She laughs. “Yeah, the Patricks aren’t the best singers. My ma always says she ‘couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket.’ To which Scotty says, ‘who carries buckets anymore?’ And so, my sister Kat started saying, ‘Couldn’t carry a tune in a backpack. It’s a real shame.’” Ash smirks. “It’s our worst thing, and it’s genetic. We all three look like my mom—which is good—and sing like her, which is really, really bad.”
“If you know you can’t sing, why were you screeching at the top of your lungs for the past twenty minutes?”
“I like to sing and thought you might be too polite to call me out.”
“Oh, my God. Such a bitch move.”
“Really?” Her eyes widen, and there’s a hopeful note to her voice. “I’d really like to be a bad bitch in public occasionally.” She makes a fish-lips pout. “But I haven’t really got it down. I’m sunny on the regular. And a rebel, quasi-outlaw, on the down-low. But bitchy? Nah.”
“Rebel quasi-outlaw? In what way?”
“That’s a ‘been friends a year’ kind of a question. But I will tell you this, because you need to know, the underground party with Tronex? Jamie and his asshole housemate will be working security, and they don’t want us there.”
“What? Why?”
“We might become—” She lifts her hands from the wheel long enough to make quote marks. “A distraction.” Dropping her hands back into position, she lowers her voice a couple of octaves to mimic a guy’s voice. “They’re veryseriousabout their work.”
I smirk for a beat and then sober. “Are you still gonna go?”
“Yeah, but I’ll understand if you want to stay home so you don’t piss off your new boyfriend.”
“He’s not my boyfriend, exactly.” I suck on my lower lip. “And I was a Tronex fan long before I was a Jamie fan.” Tilting my head, I shield my eyes from the sunlight pouring through the windshield. “If he’s working, I’ll steer clear. We won’t be a distraction.”
“Exactly.” Ash offers me her big white-rimmed square sunglasses. Where does she find these things?
I slide them on, and they’re so big they hit my cheekbones.
“If it was just War working the door, I’d tell him to fuck right off. His inability to focus is his own problem. But Jamie’s my favorite cousin, and we… kind of watch out for each other. That’s why you and I are headed to Boston to get wigs. Between them and the masks, done and dusted. Can’t be a distraction if we’re unrecognizable.”
“What’s the deal with War?”
“We got off on the wrong foot because…” Ash blows out a breath, squinting in the sunlight. “He’s a raging asshole who despises everything about me. And he’s worked hard to earn my complete loathing.” She nods and flips her hand over for emphasis. “Other than that though, we could’ve been besties.”
Chuckling, I cock my head. “Are you sure he despises you in particular? The guy’s resting face is a glare. Seems like he hates the world in general.”
Ash chuckles. “That’s on the money.” Lifting her hand from the gear shift, she gestures toward the glove box. “Grab my spare sunglasses for me, Seesaw.”
I open the glove box and find a pair of aviator glasses. After passing them to her, I watch her out of the corner of my eye.
“I’m not sure what War’s damage is.” Ash pushes the glasses up the bridge of her nose. “He wasn’t raised in Boston or Coynston, so none of us were around for whatever went down while he was growing up. But I know his dad wasn’t murdered, like mine was.” Her tone carries the most bitterness I’ve ever heard from her. “And I know his happy family wasn’t ripped apart because they were broke, with one sister having to live with relatives in Ireland and a brother forced to live an hour away with a jerk uncle. And a mom so grief-stricken she could hardly get out of bed.” Ash purses her lips, then blows out a slow breath.
Grimacing at her pain, I put a hand on her shoulder.
Ash reaches up to squeeze my hand before dropping hers back to the stick-shift. “Sorry, Seesaw.” Her tone lightens. “Didn’t mean to make it sound so grim. I’m fine. I was only three when my dad was killed, so I don’t even remember that. My family did their best to shield me while I was growing up. The hardest thing for me is that I wanted us to all live together again. Sometimes, it was just my mom and me at the house, and I missed our other three.Somuch.”
“You were really close, huh?” The pang that hits me nearly brings tears to my eyes. My own losses were so tough that any tragedy that causes family separation is like a knife twisting in my chest.
“Yeah. We’re still close.” She shrugs. “I’d do anything for them. Need a kidney? Here you go.”
And this is the girl War despises everything about? Ash’s right. He’s a raging asshole.
18
SAWYER
The party is lit, literally. Crazy flashing lights shift into neon colors and swivel between Tronex’s turntable and out onto us—his worshippers.
Ash and I bounce up and down in front of the stage, giddy with excitement. We’re both wearing black wigs, mine flows like a mermaid, hers is a chic bob.
