a kid anymore. I’m eighteen. You can kick me out of the house, but you can’t tell me where to go, or what to wear, or who to date.” I’d made a conscious effort to keep my voice calm, and it threw her for a second. We’d had some pretty good screaming matches during my teen years, but I was not going to let her reduce me to a hysterical teenager. Not anymore.
Her mouth pursed together as she seemed to be formulating her reply. “We’ll see what your dad says about that.” She spun around sharply on her heels and left the room.
When Mom was done dealing with me she was always more than pleased to hand me off to Dad. It was pretty damn cowardly, but frankly, I was done trying to fit into his mold for the perfect daughter.
Chapter 7
Clutch
It was rare for me to lose my appetite, in fact, if there was a word that meant rarer than rare then that would’ve been the term to use. I’d freaked out both Nix and Scotlyn when I’d hardly touched my burger at lunch. They knew the reason behind it though, and, thankfully, neither of them had brought it up. There wasn’t much to talk about. Taylor and I hadn’t seen each other in months, and we’d both been caught off guard. I was sure that her stunned reaction had come from fear that she’d broken the ‘stay away from Clutch rule’ and with Jason standing right there. My reaction had been my usual— construct the wall and try to ignore the fact that every inch of me had reacted to her presence. I guess that hadn’t changed. Although, the putting my fist through a wall thing was new.
I turned up my street deciding that I needed a long workout session in the makeshift weight room I’d created in the garage. My hand was sore, but a little pain and sweat seemed just what I needed. I glanced up the street and did a double take when I saw that Barrett was helping my neighbor drag the empty cans back up to her house. He was shirtless, which, knowing my brother, was probably on purpose. Apparently, he’d decided chivalry and a bare chest were a good mix.
Aimee waved at me as I pulled into the driveway. She was wearing that same glowing smile that I’d seen on so many girls who Barrett had taken the time to talk to. Only hers still came with that sad, lost glaze in her eyes. My brother didn’t wave, and I was sure that he would rather not have had me catch him in his act of garbage can valor.
My knuckles and fingers throbbed as I slammed shut the car door. “How’s it going, Aimee?”
“Great, James.” She was one of the few people who called me James. Aimee was that kind of person, the kind who called people by their proper names. She was polite and well-mannered, and she was stuck with a lazy, classless asshole. “Barrett was kind enough to come out and help me bring in the trash cans.”
Barrett finally grew his pair enough to turn around and face me. He waved briefly and then returned his attention to Aimee.
I went inside. Food wrappers and empty beer cans littered my coffee table, and the blankets were on the floor where Barrett had apparently thrown them, deciding that the bedroom was too far to travel to on foot. The front door opened and Barrett stepped inside without making eye contact.
I crossed my arms and watched him slink toward the couch. “I guess you think if you don’t look directly at me then I won’t be able to see you.”
“No, but I can already sense a lecture in the air,” he waved his arm around. “You reek of it.”
“And you reek of the neighbor’s trash can,” I lifted my nose and sniffed, “and some of my expensive aftershave. So, you had time to put on aftershave but not a shirt?”
He shrugged and it was that kind of kid brother shrug that was not going to sit well with my mood. “A guy likes to smell good when he’s taking in the garbage cans.” He plopped on the couch and propped his feet between an empty beer can and an open bag of chips.
I picked up two of the cans and crushed them in my hands,
Her mouth pursed together as she seemed to be formulating her reply. “We’ll see what your dad says about that.” She spun around sharply on her heels and left the room.
When Mom was done dealing with me she was always more than pleased to hand me off to Dad. It was pretty damn cowardly, but frankly, I was done trying to fit into his mold for the perfect daughter.
Chapter 7
Clutch
It was rare for me to lose my appetite, in fact, if there was a word that meant rarer than rare then that would’ve been the term to use. I’d freaked out both Nix and Scotlyn when I’d hardly touched my burger at lunch. They knew the reason behind it though, and, thankfully, neither of them had brought it up. There wasn’t much to talk about. Taylor and I hadn’t seen each other in months, and we’d both been caught off guard. I was sure that her stunned reaction had come from fear that she’d broken the ‘stay away from Clutch rule’ and with Jason standing right there. My reaction had been my usual— construct the wall and try to ignore the fact that every inch of me had reacted to her presence. I guess that hadn’t changed. Although, the putting my fist through a wall thing was new.
I turned up my street deciding that I needed a long workout session in the makeshift weight room I’d created in the garage. My hand was sore, but a little pain and sweat seemed just what I needed. I glanced up the street and did a double take when I saw that Barrett was helping my neighbor drag the empty cans back up to her house. He was shirtless, which, knowing my brother, was probably on purpose. Apparently, he’d decided chivalry and a bare chest were a good mix.
Aimee waved at me as I pulled into the driveway. She was wearing that same glowing smile that I’d seen on so many girls who Barrett had taken the time to talk to. Only hers still came with that sad, lost glaze in her eyes. My brother didn’t wave, and I was sure that he would rather not have had me catch him in his act of garbage can valor.
My knuckles and fingers throbbed as I slammed shut the car door. “How’s it going, Aimee?”
“Great, James.” She was one of the few people who called me James. Aimee was that kind of person, the kind who called people by their proper names. She was polite and well-mannered, and she was stuck with a lazy, classless asshole. “Barrett was kind enough to come out and help me bring in the trash cans.”
Barrett finally grew his pair enough to turn around and face me. He waved briefly and then returned his attention to Aimee.
I went inside. Food wrappers and empty beer cans littered my coffee table, and the blankets were on the floor where Barrett had apparently thrown them, deciding that the bedroom was too far to travel to on foot. The front door opened and Barrett stepped inside without making eye contact.
I crossed my arms and watched him slink toward the couch. “I guess you think if you don’t look directly at me then I won’t be able to see you.”
“No, but I can already sense a lecture in the air,” he waved his arm around. “You reek of it.”
“And you reek of the neighbor’s trash can,” I lifted my nose and sniffed, “and some of my expensive aftershave. So, you had time to put on aftershave but not a shirt?”
He shrugged and it was that kind of kid brother shrug that was not going to sit well with my mood. “A guy likes to smell good when he’s taking in the garbage cans.” He plopped on the couch and propped his feet between an empty beer can and an open bag of chips.
I picked up two of the cans and crushed them in my hands,
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