Sawyer
“You should come upto the campus. There’s tons of parties and they’re all co-ed.” There’s enough background noise, it’s hard to hear Scotty over it.
“I think I’m gonna go up to Hilltop.” I don’t know why I haven’t told him I’m working there.
Maybe Val told him already?
“What? Why? That place is so lame. Did I mention that the girls here are all our age andhot?” His long groan emphasizes the last word.
“I thought you had a girlfriend?” I mumble.
Putting him on speaker, I let my phone fall on the bed while I pull on a clean shirt.
I made a point of showering plenty of time before work.
“Nah. Her and I decided to take a break.” His laugh sounds fake as shit.
“Oh geez, man. I’m sorry.” I bet she dumped him hard.
“It’s all good, plenty of fish and all. So you coming up?” The begging lilt makes me pause.
On one hand it’d be fun to hang with my buddy. I just don’t feel like going up to his campus to try and meet anyone over a keg.
The crappy part is that the only woman I’m interested in flirting with calls me “kid”.
Maybe she’ll take me seriously someday?
“Damn, dude. I woulda if I knew ahead of time. I’m supposed to keep an eye on Sophia.” Well, I’m not.
In fact, she’ll probably be irritated to even see me there.
But she’s also the only person who knows I’ve been going up there to help out sometimes. I just don’t think she realizes it’s a regular thing.
“Man. I should come your way. At least your sister is fine. Bratty, but I could think of something that would shut—”
“Later, man.” Clicking off the call, it falls back into my mess of blankets. I know Sophia would never tolerate him in a million years.
He’s tried. Many times.
It’s almost hilarious how often she’s shot him down.
A rapid knock hits my door milliseconds before it flies open.
“Fuck, Soph. I got no pants on! Shit.” Scrambling, I grab my jeans from the edge of my mattress and hold them up in front of my boxer-briefs.
“Whatever. I couldn’t see anything if I tried.” She rolls her eyes and keeps coming in with a giant foam cowboy hat. “I need your help fixing this strap. It’s anemergency!”
“How?” I snap, tugging on one leg of my Wranglers. “Want me to just shit out a hot glue gun?”
“You’d be a lot handier if you could.” Her tone drips with sarcasm. “Don’t you have something from all those model kits you still have stuffed in your closet? Or did you huff it all?
“Only to try and forget we’re related,” I mutter, finally buttoning my jeans.
But I stick my head into the dark storage and dig out an old bottle.
When she flops her butt onto my bed, my phone slips off the edge and clatters onto the floor.
“Seriously?” I pick it up, then sit next to her.
