The Strip was already packed, the sounds of engines shrieked, and the familiar scent of oil and burnt rubber eased my weary soul. The sound of Brick’s gun filled the night sky before two racers took off from the starting point, their tires squealing and exhaust and smoke trailing behind them.

  I parked next to Crow’s bike, a teal and black Hayabusa with the neons to match, pushed my kickstand down, and climbed from my bike just in time to catch Carmen in my arms when she ran into me.

  “Hey, you. Long time no see,” she purred.

  She was attractive with her toasted Puerto Rican skin and luscious dick-suckers, but I had worn her out once and didn’t plan on doing it again. I wasn’t a round-two type of man. One and done was my deal.

  My shoulders were stiff, and I held her with my arms and not my hands. I didn’t want her on me, so I quickly pushed her away.

  “I’ve been busy,” I said, stepping around her and walking toward my crew on the sidelines.

  She followed me, three of her steps matching one of mine, and making herself seem desperate as fuck.

  “Even too busy for me?” she asked.

  “Yep.”

  With that, she stopped following me, and I kept walking.

  There was no need to sugarcoat it. Carmen knew what we were doing a month ago when we did it. We were fucking—the end. There would be no second time, which was what she had agreed to before I pushed into her wet heat.

  “Carmen still chasing after your dick?” Saint asked, hitting his joint once and passing it my way.

  I took it and pulled a deep drag into my lungs. “Yep.”

  “Did you let her down easy?”

  “Nope.”

  “You’re full of words tonight. What’s with the good mood?” he asked, sarcastically.

  I was in a shitty mood, but I had to be there to make my money.

  “Nothing.”

  I took a second hit from the joint and held the smoke until I couldn’t anymore. I lifted my head and blew it into the air above me, and when I passed the joint back to Saint, my eyes caught on a familiar set of curls across the way.

  She was with Zada again, her jeans a little tighter this go ‘round and a T-shirt that looked like it fit. She was still too clean for the dirty streets of Atlanta, but at least she didn’t look like she was about to jump in her minivan and drive her heathens to soccer practice.

  8 Everly

  ERIK AND I WEREN’T TALKING. It was the first time in our entire lives we went more than two days without speaking a word to each other. It was easy since he was never home. I basically lived alone. The only time I saw him was after school when he took me home and dropped me off like a stranger.

  He didn’t say it, but I knew he was pissed because I refused to ride on the back of his new bike, and he wanted to drive it to school and show off.

  Whatever.

  He should have known better than to ask. With my anxiety levels, I could barely ride in a car with him much less on a two-wheeled death machine.

  I had never felt so alone in all my life. My panic attacks were doubling and becoming an issue even at home. I was still a ghost, pacing the floors of our old house and hoping to be seen.

  Accepting my truth was hard. I was on my own. Mom and Erik were total strangers to me, and honestly, they moved around me like I was just a wisp of humidity in their lives.

  How could my brother be so cruel as to stuff drugs in our father’s urn?

  What kind of human being did such a thing?

  It was such a terrible offense I almost forgot about the fact that he had drugs on him in the first place. Or that a group of biker boys had broken into our house and destroyed our front door. It was like something on television except it wasn’t. It was now my life. My brother was messing with things he had no business messing with.

  Drugs.

  Motorcycles.

  There was no telling what else, but whatever it was gave him the ability to do things like buy brand new motorcycles and pay a professional to replace our front door. He stood on the porch, scrolling on his new iPhone, while the guys removed and replaced the door. I couldn’t help but feel like everything about his actions, and the way he responded to people was wrong.

  We weren’t the same people we were before the move. Moving to Atlanta had been a terrible decision, one that was slowly destroying what was left of our family, but there was nothing I could do. I had no one back in Seattle to run to.

  I was stuck.

  Thankfully, the house we lived in had hardwood floors, and I was able to collect almost all of Dad’s ashes. His urn was ruined, but I still had all the pieces to it. I hoped one day I could have it fixed, but until then, I sealed the bag his ashes were in and put it into a replacement urn Erik bought.

  It was something cheap and embarrassing and didn’t help my anger toward him a bit, but at least I had someplace to keep Dad’s ashes.

  That was my life.

  A twin brother I couldn’t bring myself to be civil to and a mother who was out doing God knows what. She came home during the week to snag fresh clothes and pay a bill, but other than that, she was absent. If my father were in a grave, he would be rolling over in it. No way would he be okay with the life Erik and I was living.

  It wasn’t about the money or the things—it was about the structure and the time. We had none, and I missed that about my life.

  On Wednesday, Mom showed up at the house just after dinner time. Dinner for me these days consisted of microwave pizzas and anything easy to cook. There were no more family dinners or conversation. If anyone knew how much I spoke to my father, they would have had me admitted.

  I was in front of the sink, cleaning my dinner plate when she came dancing into the kitchen.

  “I met someone,” she said.

  No asking how I was or if I was okay. No checking on Erik. It was always straight to the guy in her life with her.

  “You met someone, like, a guy?”

  Her face lit up with a smile that made her look ten years younger.

  “Yeah. He’s sweet and so good-looking. We’ve only been seeing each other for two weeks, but I think it’s serious.”

  Two weeks?

  We had barely been in Georgia a little over a month.

  How could she do these types of things so quickly?

  “Mom, it’s been two weeks. You couldn’t possibly know if he’s the one.”

  “Trust me, hon, when you know, you just know. Anyway, I want you guys to meet him. He needs a place to crash for a bit while he’s looking for a rental, and I thought—”

  “You’re not serious,” I snapped, cutting her off.

  I knew exactly where our conversation was headed, and I was not okay with some strange man my mom was banging squatting in our home.

  “Stop, Everly. It’s just until he gets a new place. Two weeks. Tops.”

  “Mom, I don’t feel comfortable …”

  “I pay the bills in this place. I make the rules,” she said, cutting me off and dismissing me.

  She stood from the table and left the kitchen without another word. It was only then I noticed she was wearing tight jeans that barely covered her bottom and a tiny black tank top. She was dressing like a seventeen-year-old girl, which made sense since she was acting much younger than that.

  Her nails were done. Her make-up thick, and she had adopted a new way of doing her hair that was honestly a bit embarrassing. I never said anything about these things because I wanted her to be happy, but she was going too far by bringing some strange man she had only been banging for two weeks to live with us. Erik was not going to be happy about it.

  If he even noticed.

  “He’s coming over tomorrow night for dinner.” Her voice echoed from her first-floor bedroom. “I’m telling you, so there are no surprises. I’ll tell your brother to be here for dinner, and I know you’ll be here.”

  Her words struck my heart.

  She was right.

  I was always home.

  “Wear something other than your PJs. Do you have a nice top or something?” she called out.

  I looked down at my Elmo PJs and shook my head. I only wore actual clothes when I left the house, which these days was only for school.

  “I’m sure I can dig something up,” I answered.

  Then I went upstairs and dug through my closet, knowing I wouldn’t find anything but out of style jeans and T-shirts that were too big.

  The next day, I went to my two classes and then stayed in the library studying until school was out. Except when I went out to the parking lot, Erik’s car was nowhere to be found.

  He had left without me. I texted him and waited for nearly twenty minutes for him to respond, but he didn’t. I bit the bullet and called my mom, but I got her voicemail. I left her a message letting her know I needed a ride and then I texted to be sure she got it.

  “Hey, girl, are you waiting on your ride?” Zada asked from my side, making me jerk.

  I nodded. “Something like that. My stupid brother left without me, and I’m trying to reach my mom.”

  “I can give you a ride home if you need one. I’m supposed to meet Reggie at five, so I have time to kill.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She nodded. “Yep. Come on.”

  I had never been so relieved to run into Zada.

  The drive to my place didn’t take long, and soon we were pulling in only to see my mom and my brother’s cars waiting out front. There was also a new car I had never seen before. It looked like something I would see at The Strip—an old tricked out Honda.

  Maybe one of Erik’s friends?

  Also, had my mother and brother really forgotten and ignored me?

  “Thank you so much for the ride,” I said, opening the car door.

  “Of course, girl. Any time. Hey, listen,” she said, catching my attention before I closed the door. “We’re going back out to The Strip Friday. You should come. We had fun last time.”

  I laughed.

  “I was so out of place.”

  “Not true. You’re just new. Think about it, okay?”

  I nodded. “I will. See you in class tomorrow.”

  I shut the door, and she pulled away, leaving me at home with the strangers I lived with. I passed the unfamiliar car and peeked inside, but the windows were tinted dark, and I couldn’t see.

  When I stepped through the front door, I was confronted with the sound of laughter coming from the kitchen. I followed the sounds, and when I stepped into the kitchen, the laughing stopped.

  Erik’s eyes grew large. “Oh shit. I forgot to go back and pick you up from school. I left early today. How did you get home?” he asked.

  I rolled my eyes, tossing my bag onto the floor, and went to the sink for a glass of water.

  “Zada,” I answered, downing the glass of water. I set the empty glass on the counter. “Whose car is out front?” I asked.

  “That’s mine,” I deep voice answered.

  I turned to find a young guy at the table I hadn’t noticed before. I was so angry with Erik and Mom I hadn’t even seen the guy.

  He was obviously one of Erik’s friends. Tall and tan with shaggy dark hair and bright green eyes. He was wearing loose jeans and a dark T-shirt that showed his tattooed-covered arms. My eyes trailed over his chest before landing on his face and his brow piercing.

  He smiled and flicked his tongue, his tongue ring clicking against his front teeth.

  Then I got the shock of a lifetime.

  “Everly, this is Will, my new boyfriend,” Mom said, standing next to the stranger and grabbing his hand.

  Her smile was broad, and her eyes were glassy.

  She had to be on something. No way was she serious. He looked young enough to be her son. He put the word boy in the boyfriend.

  “Yeah, right,” I said.

  Mom’s smile dropped. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I mean, he’s one of Erik’s friends, right?”

  Erik snickered at the side, sitting at the table and stuffing his mouth with chips.

  “I just met him,” Erik said. “Be a little more open-minded, Ev. He’s nice.”

  “Sorry,” the green-eyed stranger said, stepping forward with his hand out for me to shake it. “I’m Will. Your mom told me all about you.”

  God, I could only imagine the stuff she told this kid.

  I reached out and took his hand; it was warm and hard against mine. “Nice to meet you.”

  I quickly pulled my hand from his and wiped it on my jeans. His eyes followed my movements, and he smiled.

  “Right,” Mom said, breaking the awkward moment. “How about we eat?”

  It was then I smelled garlic bread. She had cooked—something she hadn’t done since we moved.

  I was quiet during dinner, listening as Erik and Will talked about cars and the local hangout spots I knew nothing about. Mom sat to the side and smiled at the two of them hitting it off, but I couldn’t believe Erik was okay with Mom dating a guy just a few years older than him.

  Okay, so Will was twenty-six, but still.

  After dinner, everyone left me to do the dishes. The old house didn’t have a dishwasher, and even though I had never done dishes before the move, it was easy to catch on.

  Once I finished, I went upstairs instead of joining them for a movie in the living room. It was nice to have Mom and Erik home, but it was weird having a young guy lying in Mom’s lap while she played with his hair.

  Mom dating anyone was weird for me, but this guy was so young.

  After I showered, I went into my room and listened to music while I went over my notes for a test the next day. With my earbuds in, I almost didn’t hear the knock at my door. I tugged the buds from my ears.

  “Come in,” I called out.

  When the door opened, it was Will standing there.

  “Hey,” he said.

  I set my book to the side.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, I just wanted to make sure we were cool. You didn’t seem too thrilled about me being here.”

  I shrugged. “Whatever makes my mother happy. It’s her house, not mine.”

  He chuckled a bit, and the sound was deep and scratchy. It sounded older than he was.

  “Sure, it’s her house, but it’s yours too. Anyway, I hope we can get along. Your mom’s a special lady, and I care about her. I want things to work out.”

  I nodded, but I had nothing to say to that.

  “So, if there’s anything I can do to make this change smoother for you, let me know.”

  He was trying.

  The least I could do was try, too.

  Again, I nodded. “Thanks. I’m sure it will work out.”

  I attempted a smile, but my lips felt stiff.

  “Okay, well, goodnight, Everly.”

  “Goodnight, Will.”

  He stepped back and closed my door.

  Weird.

  The entire situation was bizarre, but I guessed all that mattered was my Mom’s happiness. Her dating a younger guy wasn’t my business, and I could maybe get along with the guy someday.

  Who knew?

  Turning off my lamp, I pulled up my blanket and settled into bed.

  9 Everly

  WILL WAS WAITING out front to pick me up after school the next day.

  I didn’t like that.

  When I saw him standing there against the side of his car waiting, the girls smiling at him as they passed, I quickly turned to go back inside, but I wasn’t quick enough.

  “Everly,” he called out, stopping me. He jogged up to me with a smile. “Hey, I thought I would pick you up from school, and maybe we could grab an ice cream cone or something.”

  Was this guy serious?

  “Where’s Erik?” I asked, feeling unsure.

  His smile dropped. “I told him I had you, so he left with some blonde chick. My bad. I didn’t think it would be a problem. I thought we could use the time to get to know each other, so things weren’t so weird back at the house.”

  Again, he was trying.

  It was the least I could do.

  I nodded and started toward his car. He followed, and when I reached his car, he moved in front of me and pulled the door open for me.

  It was odd, but again, I smiled in appreciation and climbed inside.

  Once I was in the car, my anxiety peaked.

  What if he was kidnapping me?

  What if he took me out to the middle of nowhere and raped and murdered me?

  It happened every day.

  The fact was, I didn’t know this guy. It was awkward.

  Thankfully, he did as he said he would and drove us to a local ice cream shop. I ordered a simple vanilla cone. Sitting at the small table across from him, I licked at my ice cream and looked around the shop.

  It was a cute place. It had been around for many years, and there were black and white photos of the family who owned the place over the years—beehives and cat glasses as far as the eye could see. The pictures popped against the bright colors of the rest of the décor.

  When I turned to face him again, he wasn’t eating his ice cream. Instead, he was watching me eat mine. Quickly, he turned his head and went back to work on his dessert.

  “Does Mom know you picked me up?” I asked, suddenly feeling as if I were doing something wrong.

  He nodded and swallowed. “Yep. She suggested it.”

  Of course, she did.

  She loved making my life uncomfortable.

  When we pulled up to our house, I had never felt so relieved. I climbed from his car, literally because he had it lowered, thanked him for the ice cream, and disappeared inside before he even closed his car door.

  When Friday came, Will was once again waiting outside for me. I didn’t want to go through the awkwardness again, so I lied and told him I had a ride. Thankfully, Zada was still there and went along with my lie.

  “Okay, well, I’ll see you back at the house. It will be just the two of us tonight, so maybe we can watch a movie and pop some popcorn.”

 

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