He peered up at me with a look I recognized and understood all too well.
I didn’t falter. “It was your choice to go away to college. No one put a fuckin’ gun to your head, ordering you to move to Ohio. You’re leaving her… with me, because you chose to. So if that’s eating away at your conscience, it’s no one’s fuckin’ fault but your own.”
He scoffed. “That girl over there," he gestured toward Alex, who was still draped over Cole, "is my fucking world, and don’t you ever forget that," he roared through gritted teeth.
I chuckled, shrugging. “I’m not the one leaving her, Bo," I declared, adding fuel to the fire.
He jerked back like I had hit him. “Tread carefully, Austin,” he sneered, standing, taking a step closer to me.
I stood too. We were a foot apart. It didn't matter that there were people everywhere around us, neither one of us backed down. For a few seconds in time we forgot that we were brothers, best friends, playing on the same damn team.
“Get the fuck out of my face, Lucas,” I cautioned through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw, ready to knock him on his ass if needed. “She’s better off without you here, but don’t you worry, Bo. I’ll take care of our girl.”
“You, son of—”
“Hey…” Alex wobbled, stepping in between us. “What’s going on?” she slightly slurred with a lazy smile.
I pulled her toward me before she fell, bringing her into my arms. She rested her head on my chest and wrapped her arms around me, sighing contently.
Lucas glared at me one last time before stepping back, surrendering his hands, placing some much-needed distance between us.
“Where you going, Bo? You’s not supposed to leave until tomorrows. I don’t want you to leaves,” she jumbled; completely oblivious to what was going on with us.
“I’ll always come back, Half-Pint.” Lucas backed away, pointed his finger in my direction and warned, “Don’t fuck it up.”
Alex peered up at me, distracting me from Lucas. She had glossy eyes, rosy cheeks, and a sluggish smile. Obviously, having a hard time focusing on my face.
“You changed, Austin,” she said out of nowhere, catching me off guard.
“Half-Pint—”
“You used to be such a nice boy. A very, very, very nice boy. You’s not that boy anymore and that makes me sad.”
“Alex, you’re drunk.”
She slowly nodded. “I don’t like new Austin’s. He uses girls and causes troubles. That’s not you. Not my boy. Brings him back.” She hugged me closer, her face pressed into my chest. “Mmm kay?”
I kissed the top of her head. Looking over at Lucas who hadn’t moved from the place he stood. Only confirming her boy was gone.
And he wasn’t coming back.
<>Briggs<>
“Oh, come on, Esteban! Just watch the movie with me," I coaxed, patting the couch next to me. “It’s Friday night, and we both know you don’t have any friends,” I teased. “What are you going to do? Go hide out in your room? Come on, I know you want to. What guy wouldn't want to watch The Shining?”
He raised his eyebrows.
“It’s almost Halloween. I’m trying to get into the spirit. Hang your gun up and take a load off. See what I did there? Gun, load?” I wiggled my eyebrows.
He chuckled, shaking his head.
“My uncle’s gone and who the hell knows when he’ll be back this time. So, you don’t have to play guard dog for me tonight. I ordered a pizza. I have popcorn, gummy bears, and snow caps,” I said, pointing to the assortment of snacks on the coffee table. “All food groups. Plus, we don’t have to go anywhere. Now sit down and watch the damn movie with me.”
He looked at me skeptically and then sat down on the other couch.
“When did you become so bossy?”
“Peer pressure. I’m around my uncle all the time. I’m far too sensitive," I stated, pulling my blanket over me and popping a gummy bear in my mouth.
He laughed, big and throaty. I smiled, biting my lip.
“Why do you pretend you don’t like to hang out with me? I’m kind of a big deal.”
“I’m not your fri—”
“Yes, I know. We’re not friends. You work for my uncle… yada, yada, yada, I got it. But," I paused for effect, “you’re my bodyguard-slash-driver, so that means you work for me, too.” I grinned all proud of myself.
“When did you get so smart?”
“It comes with age.”
“You’re fourteen.”
I shrugged. “Yeah, but I’ve been through a lot. It’s kind of like dog years, so I’m really like a hundred and something,” I explained, counting on my fingers.
“Ninety-eight,” he answered.
“That’s what I said."