Her father sat stiffly at the foot of her bed. “Kinley, my dear girl, do you realize you have missed three SAT study sessions? Just because you’ve taken a break from your psych course doesn’t mean you can take a break from your life.” He paused and drew a package from his jeans. “Here. A little gift. Enjoy.” Mr. Phillips patted her on the head and rose from the bed. He paused at the door, for just a moment. “By the way, they’re getting a friend of mine from the college to finish the professor’s course. It will resume next week. Remember to prepare.”
And then he was gone, without any well wishes. He was just gone.
He just wanted his perfect daughter back.
So do I, Kinley thought bitterly. She tore open the little package and dumped the contents onto her bedcover.
It was a tiny, tiny earpiece. The smallest she’d ever seen. State-of-the-art, really.
And another flash drive.
As if anything could replace the information on the one she had lost to Tyler.
Tyler
Thursday, June 25
Jacob slammed his hand into the wall. “What do you mean?” He breathed heavily, his face turning a mottled red.
“Calm down,” Tyler whispered. He grabbed his brother and pulled him out of the kitchen and into the backyard, away from their parents, who were watching old reruns of America’s Next Top Model in the den.
“What do you mean you can’t get it?” Jacob was standing close, and obvious panic was lurking just beneath his skin.
“I tried, dude,” Tyler said. “There was a cop staked out.” He lowered his voice, glancing toward the neighbors’ house to make sure no one was outside. “He freaking walked up to my car and asked me what I was doing there. I barely got out.”
Jacob paced back and forth in the backyard, trampling a pair of their mother’s prized yellow tulips. “Shit. Shit, Tyler. What are we going to do? I have the St. Andrews meet coming up.” He clasped his hands together and blew into them, like it was cold instead of midsummer.
“There’s nothing to do,” Tyler said gently. “Jacob, we’re done. We can’t get it, okay? You need to stop.”
Jacob sat down on the grass and started rocking, and before Tyler realized what was happening, his older brother was crying quietly on the lawn, picking up little threads of grass.
Tyler squatted down. “It’s okay, Jake.”
Jacob glared at him through his tears. “It’s not okay. I can’t swim without them.”
“You’re not going to tell Mom and Dad, right?”
Jacob looked up at his older brother, and for a second, Tyler was reminded of when Jacob really was his brother. When they’d ride through the neighborhood together on matching bikes until their mother called them in for supper. When they played Crazy Eights on Jacob’s bed until Tyler was tired enough to fall asleep. When they would sleep on the floor of the den and watch scary movies after their parents had gone to bed.
How had everything gotten so screwed up?
Jacob wiped his nose on the sleeve of his T-shirt. “You have to figure out a way, Tyler. I won’t tell Mom and Dad, though.”
Tyler nodded. “Thanks, bro.” He reached out and clasped his brother’s shoulder.
“I’ll tell your probation officer.”
Tyler’s whole body felt like he’d just been covered in hot, wet cement. He let his hand fall.
Jacob would tell . . . Jacob would do . . . what? He’d send his own brother to juvie? Into the military? For a drug? Because he was pissed off??
Tyler felt sick.
“You’d do that?”
Jacob returned his gaze steadily. “Well, you’d ruin my life like that. My whole career. My chance to transition out of community and into a Division One school. So yeah. I guess I would.”
Tyler’s blood went hot-cold and then hot again. “You know, they drug test a little more hardcore in D-One.”
Jacob jumped up. “What are you saying?” He lurched closer, his breath warm on Tyler’s face.
“I’m saying that it’s a lot harder to be an addict when everyone’s watching. No one cares when you’re the big fish at a stupid community college. But when you’re competing at a high level? It’s just a matter of time.”
Jacob smiled. “Then you better get me the good stuff, little brother. Because when I go down, you’re going to go down right along with me.”
“Why wait?” Tyler asked, raising his voice. He felt strange and reckless. “Let’s just do this now. Let’s tell everybody.” He laughed, and it hurt in his stomach. “My dickhead brother’s a cheat, everyone! And I help him do it!”
“Shut up,” Jacob said.
“What? Why?”
“Shut up or I’ll kill you.”
Tyler stopped. He stared at his brother. Into his eyes, which were cold and hard and unfamiliar.
A lot of killing going around these days. Some deep, sick part of Tyler wanted to laugh again, but he couldn’t.
“You’re going to do this for me, Tyler,” Jacob said. “You’re going to call your little friends and you’re going to figure this out. Don’t test me again.”
“Fine.”
The word hurt to say.
Because he couldn’t. He wouldn’t.
Jer was being staked out by the cops, the number-one people he wanted to avoid on account of being involved with Stratford.
But if he didn’t return, and his brother actually told, then he’d end up in the exact same position.
Unless he could get the drugs, he was screwed. He was done. But Jacob wasn’t his brother right now. He was someone else.
But Tyler knew what to do.