The familiar rumble of an engine cuts through our laughter, and I feel Jinx go rigid beside me. We all know that sound. Kyle's piece of shit Camaro that he thinks makes him cool but really just makes him loud and obnoxious. The brand-new aftermarket muffler he probably stole sounds like a giant shitting into a well.
The Camaro pulls up with a spray of gravel, the thumping bass from the stereo making my teeth hurt. Kyle gets out, and my skin immediately starts to crawl as the smell of cheap pot wafts out with him. He's eighteen now, with a face full of sharp angles and mean eyes, and short, dirty blond hair that looks like Jinx's if you sucked all the light out of it. Where Jinx is sunshine, Kyle is a storm cloud.
"Taylor," he barks, not even looking at the rest of us. "Get your ass home. You've got chores."
"I already did them," Jinx says, his voice smaller than it should be. I hate how he shrinks around his brother, like he's trying to disappear. Only Kyle calls him by his real name, and it always makes him cringe.
Or maybe it's just because Kyle is talking to him at all.
"I said get home." Kyle's eyes finally sweep over us, lingering on me in a way that makes me want to claw my own skin off. "Now."
"Do them yourself, asshole," Kade snaps, standing up and conveniently blocking me from Kyle's view. Even at thirteen, he's got a commanding presence that makes people think twice. "Or are you too busy getting shitfaced with your loser friends?"
Kyle's face darkens. "Mind your own fucking business, kid."
"He is my business," Kade says, stepping forward. It's funny that Kade will call Jinx every name in the book and tease him mercilessly, but the second someone else tries it? That's when you see the boy who's been lighting fires since he was seven.
"It's fine," Jinx says quickly to Kade, already moving toward the car. "I'll just—it's fine."
"Jinx—" I start, but he's already giving me that smile. The fake one, the one that never reaches his eyes.
"I'm good, Princess. I'll see you guys tomorrow, yeah?"
He gets in the car before any of us can stop him. Kyle gives us one last look, his eyes lingering on me again. Tank growls low in his throat and Kyle throws himself back into the driver's seat in record time. The Camaro peels out, leaving us in a cloud of dust.
"Hate that fucking asshole," Kade mutters, kicking a rock into the street.
Tank grunts his agreement, the sound rumbling up from his chest like distant thunder. I know he's thinking the same thing we all are. That one day Kyle's going to go too far, and when he does, we'll be ready.
Cyrus hasn't said a word. He’s just staring off into the road after the car. His face looks like a statue’s face, more serious than I've ever seen him, and that's saying something.
"We should do something," I say, even though I know we can't.
What are we going to do? Call the cops? Tell them we think Kyle's mean to his brother? That sometimes he has bruises on his arms and makes up bullshit about where they came from? They'd laugh us out of the station, if they even bothered to show up to the trailer park in the first place.
People don't give a shit about kids like us.
Not even most of the adults in the park care. They all have their own problems, unpaid bills sticking out of their mailboxes, repairs they can't afford for the cars slowly being reclaimed by the earth.
Sometimes I'm not even sure how much Mom cares.
I came alive when we moved here and I met the boys, but it's like this place has been sucking the life out of her ever since we arrived. I wish she could find her own prince. Someone who treats her like a princess, and buys her flowers and dances with her in the living room the way Dad used to.
Once upon a time, I used to dream they'd get back together, but every year that passes, every Instagram notification I get about him and the perfect family we're not a part of, that dream gets hazier.
"Like what?" Kade's voice is bitter, drawing me back to the present. “Kyle’s a man now. He's got a job, and he's friends with that cop. No one would ever believe us over him, and Jinx won'tsay shit about what goes on in that trailer anyway. He’d probably say we’re making shit up.”
"We could?—"
"We could nothing." Kade turns to look at me, setting his jaw. "Trust me, Princess. Some fights you can't win by playing fair."
I want to argue, but something keeps me from it. Maybe the sneaking suspicion that Kade is only telling me the same thing he's told himself too many times.
The ants continue their march across our bridge, oblivious to the darkness that just swept through. I watch them carry their loads, working together, never stopping, and I wish we could be like them. Simple.
"I wish we could all just live here," I say quietly, rubbing at a mosquito bite that's already forming on my arm. Probably got me while I was distracted by Kyle. "In the RV. Just us. No parents, no bullshit. Just our kingdom."
"Yeah," Kade says, his voice softer now. "Me too."
