“The fuck?” I mutter to myself as I watch Mila out my window with some guy who’d just driven her home.
My bedroom door slams hard against the wall in a loud thud. I spin to see Grady standing there in only his gray sweats, his hair still damp from the shower he took when he got home tonight. He was out with Makai—who tutored Grady in algebra—after practice. No idea why they needed to start first day back. Maybe they’re friends now.
I’d come straight home. I’m going to confront Mila…demand to know who was first. Yeah, it’s fucking with my head now. It’s all I can think about, and I need to stop.
When those girls came up to me at lunch and told me I was Mila’s first kiss, happiness swelled inside my chest. I tried to push it down—I didn’t want to hurt my best friends—but I was ecstatic.
Then Mila shook her head, and I realized she was fucking with me.
My fists clench at the memory. I’d wanted to go over and demand she tell me I was first in front of everyone. But I’d looked over to Roman, and his face told me everything I needed to know about how he felt about not being first. And then there was the way Hunter remained quiet, not even joking with the girls or flirting like he usually did.
They wanted to be first as much as I did. Neither wanted to be second. And no one wanted to be last. If they found out they were last, it would hurt them in a way they could never come back from. I know I wouldn’t be able to come back from that.
“The fuck, Grady?” I ask as he strolls into my room like he was invited in.
“I could say the same to you, fucker. Mila’s back, and apparently you knew. Hell, I had to find out the gossip at practice today.”
We both had practice after school, but he’d been off with the defense doing their thing. Technically, I’d known since Friday she was back…I just hadn’t wanted to tell him.
I shrug and roll my eyes at him.
“Oh, shit,” Grady snaps beside me as he glances down at Mila. “No fucking way, that’s Mila?” He gives a low whistle. “She grew up, and she’s looking damn fine from here.” He nudges my shoulder with his.
“No, she doesn’t. She’s a lying bitch,” I grit out between my teeth.
Grady laughs as he places his hand on my shoulder, and I tense under his touch. “I heard about the kiss thing, man. That shit is tough. I wonder which one of you boys she picked first?”
Him and everyone else on the planet is wondering the same thing.
I turn away to peer out the window again. My view is clearer now, and I recognize Mila talking to a Lakeview Prep asshole. I grind my teeth together.
“Is that”—Grady moves closer to the window—“Asher Rossi? Oh fuck, it is.”
I look closer and, sure enough, it’s the wide receiver for the Lakeview Kings.
“She’s dating a King? No wonder you’re pissed. You’ve loved her since you could talk, and now she’s back home and with a King.”
I shove him away from my window and close the blinds. I can’t deal with this shit, not now. Grady is having a field day with this, biting his knuckle to keep in his laugh as he bounces on his toes.
“Nah, I’m sorry, man. That sucks. I shouldn’t laugh. That shit is all kinds of fucked up.”
I don’t reply. I just want him to leave. Let me spiral in my fucked-up head and heart. In the last four years, my heart wasn’t a factor, even with Britney. When Mila left, she took it with her. But Mila is back, and my heart is damaged now. I hate that I still care about her. I hate her for that.
“I’ll drive her to school. She can watch me at practice every day, and I’ll take her home.” He flexes his bicep and winks at me.
I shake my head, letting the rage settle. Grady shouldn’t be this excited after seeing Mila with Asher. Grady is one of us—he’s a Rebel. “Get out.” I shove him, and he backs up out of my room. I kick the door behind him and hear his deep chuckle when Mom yells out not to slam doors.
She’d asked me earlier about helping Mila out. But there’s no way I’m driving Mila to school. She can ride her bike or some shit.
Grady and I are eleven months apart. He calls me Grady 2.0, and for most of my life, I’ve been considered the copycat. It’s hard not to be when you’re so close behind in age. All the regular shit you do growing up, I did it a year after him. What did he expect, for me to never walk and talk?
Football, though, that’s where things are a little different. I’m QB1. I’ve wanted that position since before I could run, and I never thought it would happen until I finally had a growth spurt during freshman year. Grady’s rough and naturally aggressive. He’s a linebacker for the Rebels. I’m all about the offense, and he’s all about the defense.
The thing is, growing up, Mila was all about the defense too. So they would spend a lot of time talking football. I used to hate it. I told my dad that Grady was stealing my best friend, and he would tell me it wasn’t true. They just had some things in common, and I had to let her be friends with other people. It had been hard to share her with Hunter and Roman, and the last thing I’d wanted was to share her with my brother too.
Grady heard me complaining to Dad, and he and Mila ganged up on me and tackled me with tickles. I hated to be tickled. They’d done that a lot. I’d been small for my age. But I’m not now.
I grab my phone and bring up Hunter’s number. He answers after only two rings. “You ready to go now?” he questions. I know he’s talking about Roman, but that’s not why I’m calling.
“No, haven’t heard from Roman. This is worse. Mila is fucking a King, right now.”
I hear a strangled sound and a cough to clear it up. “You sure?”
“I just saw her and Asher Rossi. She grabbed his tee, man, and dragged him into her house.”
Hunter starts cursing while I open my blinds again. I can see right into her room. The blind is drawn, but there is a small gap, and I see movement in there.
“Oh, fuck, I can see them in her room.”
“Fuck, stop it. You were pissed at me and Roman over the kiss shit, which is total bullshit because you kissed her too. We agreed not to talk to her, then today she called you out on that stupid rumor, which could have ruined any chance at college for us all. Now you’re stalking her? You need to get over her. Come on, I’ll meet you at The Shed in ten. Not gonna wait on Roman.”
I grunt and hang up. The Shed is where Roman spends most of his nights. It’s an underground fight club, and he fights there regularly. Hunter and I don’t like it—it’s shady as all hell, and we only go there to drag his ass home after a bad fight. He said he was going tonight.
I think back to school and how Mila fucked with his head. Tonight would be bad.
The only way Roman expresses his feelings is on flesh. He makes good money fighting, and he needs it. But it’s more than that. Fighting is his release.
That didn’t make us feel any better about it. Going down there scared the fuck out of me and Hunter. The Shed is full of motorcycle clubs and gangs. We warned Roman to be careful, not to mess with any of them. But I don’t know if he’s mixed up in that or not. He never speaks about it.
There were times we had to pick him up after Arthur called. He’s the old guy who runs things down there. He would call us up to collect our boy because he’d go too far. Roman never lets us take him to the hospital, but fuck, there have been times when I sat awake for days to make sure he was still breathing.
Times like that, I bring him here. I’m glad Mom and Dad are out of the house more now. They’re gone most weekends, letting me and Grady fend for ourselves while they take mini vacations. It works out great for me. I can have parties at our place most Saturdays.
I grab my keys and shrug on a black hoodie as I make my way downstairs.
“And where are you going?” Dad asks.
I stop with my hand on the door knob. “Out with Hunter and Roman.”
“It’s late. Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”
I shake my head. “Nah, Roman’s dad is being an ass. I need to make sure Roman is good until he passes out.”
Mom comes around the corner, her hand on her chest. “Tell that boy to come here. You know he can stay here anytime. I get so worried about him living with that man. That man isn’t a father—no father treats his son that way.”
“I’ll let him know, Mom.” I kiss her cheek, and she smiles lovingly up at me as she pats my cheek.
“You’re a good friend, Jace.”
No, I’m not. If I was, Mila wouldn’t have stopped talking to me. She would be here, hanging out with me like old times.
But now she’s in her room, sucking a King’s cock to make me angry. This is the end for me. There’s no coming back from that.
I hate Mila Hart.
