Page 107 of At Whit's End


Font Size:

Okay, dial it down a notch, badass.

“Better head over there before they close up shop.” I steer his body with my hands on his shoulders. His friend follows close behind us until we’re a safe enough distance from the bullies for him to comfortably head out to find his parents on his own. Then it’s only Jonas and me, and his entire body visibly relaxes.

A minute later, the two of us are stepping up to the food truck window and ordering ice cream cones and a caramel apple. There’s a brisk autumn nip in the air tonight, but I’m not one to turn down an opportunity to eat ice cream.

“You need a ride home?” I ask.

“Well, Dad said he would, but…”

Weird. I thought Whit was pretty firm about Alex not bringing him here.

Looking down at Jonas, I take a long lick of vanilla soft serve. The last thing I want is to overstep and make Whit feellike things between us won’t work. “All right, let’s go find him.”

He pouts. “I’d rather go with you.”

“Then we should tell him I’m taking you home, so he doesn’t think you were kidnapped.”

Jonas huffs but leads the way as we start across the noisy, neon fairgrounds. Amid a crowd lined up for the Ferris wheel, we find his dad. Alex runs a hand through dark curls, and he’s so focused on talking to a woman I presume is his girlfriend, he doesn’t notice us until Jonas is popping up in the middle of their conversation.

“Hey, J. Ready to go?” Alex asks.

“Colt’s gonna give me a ride.” Jonas flips his hand in my general direction.

Alex looks me up and down with a steady glare. “So you’re still around, then?”

Oh, that look tells me he knows I was the one behind Whit’s phone call.

“Sure am.” I lick my ice cream, forcing a pleasant smile. “Jonas asked me to take him home, so we came to let you know.”

“And Whit’s okay with—”

“Yup, she knows,” I lie.

I literally drive this kid around more than you do.

“Okay…well, hey, J. Thanks for hanging out with your boring olddadfor a bit.” He slaps a hand down on Jonas’s shoulder, his fingers curling like talons.

Maybe it’s my mind playing tricks on me, but I swear he emphasizes the worddadon purpose. His eyes slice to mine for such a brief moment, probably nobody but me notices.

“Yeah.” Jonas shrugs Alex’s touch away. “See you later.”

“Next weekend? Maybe we can bring your video games over to our place and play together?” Alex asks, hopeful. Pretending not to notice—or be affected by—the clear indifference in his son’s attitude. “I’ll get pizza. It’ll be fun.”

I’d feel bad for the guy if he wasn’t such a loser.

Jonas shrugs and I catch him looking at me in his periphery.

I clear my throat. “My mom’s waiting back at my truck so I can give her a ride, too. We should probably get going.”

Alex goes in for the most painfully awkward hug with Jonas, which quickly devolves into an uncomfortable pat on the back instead.

“Nice seeing you,” I say before getting the hell out of there.

Jonas, thankfully, is quick to follow. By the time we spot my mom and brother in the parking lot, I’m shoving the last bit of ice cream cone into my mouth.

The place is half empty now, dimly lit with a handful of streetlights, and Betty lets out a yip when she sees us. Rather, when she sees her kid. I usually get an excited bum wiggle after I’ve left her back at the truck, but she’s launching off the flat deck and barreling toward Jonas. Her tail’s wagging so hard, it might fly right off. Good thing Jonas put on some muscle over the summer, or she’d be knocking him flat on his back when she crashes into him with frantic kisses.

Mom leans against my truck, smiling as we slowly approach with Betty in tow. “This must be the Jonas I’ve heard so much about.”