Shit. My gut tightened up. I nodded. “I’ll handle it.” Raising my voice, I yelled, “LOGAN. Let me in.” I waited. Nothing happened. I added, “Now.”
The door burst open and Logan glared at me. “What? So you can accuse me of doing drugs? I’m not an idiot. I know not to touch that shit.”
He moved to slam the door shut, but I blocked it and went inside. Nate followed, but when I saw no one was in there, I told him, “Give us a minute?”
“For real?”
I nodded. “Yeah, just a minute.”
“Okay.” He shrugged and gestured outside. “I’m going to start getting wasted.”
As soon as he was gone, I shut the door. Logan was sitting on the bed, his arms crossed over his chest, scowling at me. When I locked the door, he started, “Not cool, douchebag.”
I fought back a grin. He’s a year younger than me, but he looked like a little boy at that moment. “You have any friends hiding in here?”
“No.”
He said it too quickly. “I mean it. I’m going to get real personal here. You want our shit exposed to your buddies?”
The scowl disappeared and he rolled his eyes. “Are you serious?” Letting out a big huff, he went to the closet and opened the door. “Get lost, guys.” Two of his friends, one was the younger Smythe, scrambled from behind a pile of blankets. They darted around me and out the door, slamming it behind them.
I locked it again and wasted no time. Logan had returned back to the bed, but he dropped his attitude. I asked, “Who’s doing the drugs?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Logan.”
“I don’t. I don’t touch that shit.”
“You’re the leader in your grade. You would know. Who does them?”
“I don’t know. I really don’t. I mean, there’s a few guys, but we don’t hang out with them.”
“Little Smythe is going home stoned. His brother is blaming you. Is this going to be a problem? I need to know so I know how to handle Jared when he comes at me again.”
“It’s not me. It’s really not. Derek has other friends. He doesn’t hang out with just me and the guys.”
“His other friends are shady?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “I don’t hang out with him, but I can’t tell Derek not to hang out with them either.”
“What are their names?”
He squirmed on the bed and rolled his eyes. “Come on. I can’t do that.”
“I’m not going to narc to the cops or anything, but Jared’s going to ask for names. I have to give him something. He can handle it from there.”
“That’s the same thing. Derek’s brother will go after them. He’s like you,” he frowned, “but nicer.”
I grinned at that. “Give me the names, Logan. I’d want to know if it was you.”
He groaned. “You’re killing me.”
“Then handle it yourself.”
“Yeah, right. And do what? I can’t tell people who aren’t my friends not to do drugs.”
“No, but you can tell your friend not to do drugs. If he hangs out with them, he doesn’t hang out with you. What your friends do comes back onto you. You’ll have to deal with it at some point. There’s nothing wrong with protecting yourself. That’s all you’re doing.”
He lifted his hand and swept it through his hair, messing it up. Then it dropped and his shoulders slumped down. “Really? You’re going to make me do this?”
“Either you handle it or I will. I don’t want you anywhere around that crap and I won’t let some prick say you are.”
Logan gazed up at me, seeing I meant what I was saying. He sighed and looked back down to his lap. “I’ll do it. I will.”
“Good.” I went to the door, but turned back. “It’s you and me, Logan. You got that, right?”
“I do. Yeah.”
When I saw that he did and he wasn’t fighting me, I sighed in relief. We dealt with so much shit at home. We couldn’t control that, but dealing with school and our friends—that was something we could control. I was determined not to let anyone else push us around. One way or another, I was going to protect us.
6
DINNER WITH HELEN
I was at dinner with my mom when my phone buzzed. It was from Nate. Good to go, but come through the basement door. Mom’s pissy ‘cause of her party.
I responded back, With my mom. Be there soon.
Is Logan coming?
No. Out with that girl.
Shit. That’s been going on for a long time now.
Yeah. Too serious for Logan. I laughed to myself.
Ha. Hurry. I got beer.
”Is that Nathaniel?” Helen asked as she folded her cloth napkin, brushing the corner of her mouth, giving me a warm smile.
I shook my head, putting my phone away. “Why the hell do you call him Nathaniel? His name’s Nate.”
She grimaced. “Mason, language. Do you always have to curse in my presence?”