Warren sits up and rests his elbows on the table, leaning forward with an eyebrow raised. He has huge shoulders and tribal tattoos snake their way around his impressive biceps. “When?”
“This weekend,” Declan says. He pushes his sunglasses down over his eyes and lowers his voice. “I’ll have some real good stuff ready, and I wanna move it quick. It’s risky, but there’ll be good money in it. Your rent is due, isn’t it, Liam?” Liam nods, falling victim to Declan’s smooth convincing.
Liam is a walking stereotype. There are bags under his eyes and his stubble is unruly, and the fact that he has two fucking phones laid out on the table in front of him is an absolute giveaway. He also twitches every once in a while, and I honestly can’t tell if he’s high or if he’s sober. “Count me in,” he says.
“Sorry, guys, gotta get back out there,” Kaleb says as he rises to his feet for what feels like the fifth time. “What’s up with everyone needing a hookup today? It’s fucking Tuesday,” he mumbles, and without another word, he turns around and walks off, keys to his truck in hand.
“Hear that, Tyler?” Declan says, angling his jaw toward me. I can’t see his eyes behind his dark shades, but the corner of his mouth does quirk into a smirk. He rubs his thumb against his index and middle finger. “Dirty, dirty money.”
Warren fires me a look, cocking his head to one side. He looks me straight up and down, then he asks, “What’s a rich white boy like you doing here anyway? You obviously don’t need the extra cash.” He scoffs and throws a pointed glance over his shoulder toward my car, parked not even a hundred feet away from us in one of the south parking lots. Then, he narrows his eyes at Declan. “Portwood, how do you evenknow this kid? ’Cause he looks like a cop’s son or some shit to me. I bet he’s voice recording us right this second.”
“Relax,” Declan orders with a minute shake of his head. “He’s cool. Been fucking with me since, like, what? Freshman year? Isn’t that right, Tyler? I can trust you, can’t I?” He edges in closer to me and lifts his sunglasses, his dark eyes studying me. He’s still smirking.
I reach for my cards and toss a fifty-dollar bill onto the table. I don’t even care if I win or lose this game, I just don’t want these guys thinking I can’t keep up with them. I’m younger, sure, but I’m probably slicker. “If you couldn’t trust me, you wouldn’t have asked me to come out here,” I state.
Declan’s smirk grows and he sits back again, lowering his shades back over his eyes. He gives me a small nod and then focuses his attention back on his own cards.
“That ain’t explaining why he’s here,” Warren speaks up, but I wish he would stop questioning me. Why ishehere? I bet it’s for the money, and not because his life is a fucking mess like mine.
“Man, what does it matter?” Liam asks, rolling his eyes. Still can’t tell if he’s stoned or not. “Let’s just get this round played.”
But Warren won’t stop pursuing an answer, and I honestly don’t know why he gives a damn. “You know, us guys only get involved in this shit when we don’t have any other choice. So, Tyler with the flashy sports car, what left you with no options? Did Daddy stop paying for all your shit?”
I throw my cards down and shoot to my feet, pressing my palms down flat on the table. My jaw is tight as I lean toward Warren, narrowing my eyes at him as fiercely as I can so that he gets the memo not to say anything more. “Daddy’slocked up, asshole.”
Usually, I would never square up to anyone twice my size and nearlya decade older than me, but there are some things that I can’t stay rational about. Like whenever Dad is brought up. No one knows the truth about why he’s really in prison, which means no one knows how agonizing it is when I’m reminded of him. I snap way too easily.
Warren doesn’t so much as bat an eyelid at me, nor flinch an inch. “Well, that makes sense then,” he says slowly, looking up at me, laughing. “You’re following in his footsteps, bro.”
There it is—the snap. My chest tightens and I grind my teeth so hard my jaw aches as I launch myself at him, swinging my fist straight into the corner of his mouth. I don’t even register what I’m doing. I have learned by now that when I snap, I am uncontrollable. The adrenaline floods through me as Warren jolts back in his chair, and then he scrambles to his feet, hoists up his pants, and raises his fists.
“Oh, cut it the fuck out,” Declan groans. He sighs and stands up, stepping in between Warren and me. Liam watches silently, and I decide then that, yes, he’s high.
My glare is fixated on Warren as I breathe heavily, my heart pounding in my chest, and his nostrils are flaring angrily. He wipes a spit of blood from his mouth and shakes his head, dropping his fists.
At the same time, I hear a voice yell, “What the hell are you doing?” and when I glance up, my heart almost stops when I see Dave marching across the sand toward us. Two thoughts run through my mind at once: One, what the hell is Dave doing here at the beach? And two, my stepdad cannot come over here right now, not when I’m standing next to fucking Declan, who deals a lot more than just a hand of crap cards.
“Declan, I’ll hit you up, okay?” I splutter quickly, and before Dave can get any closer, I break into a sprint and head over to him instead. At this point, I’m willing to let him yell at me, just so that we can get away from here.
“What the hell was that, Tyler?” Dave asks, his voice raised. He throws his hands up in frustration and stares at me in disbelief. I never fail to surprise him. It’s like whenever he thinks I can’t get any worse, I go ahead and prove him wrong. “You’re grounded, which means you’re supposed to be athome. Not here! Are you gambling?” He takes a step around me to look back at Declan and the others, but I step closer to him, blocking his view. He doesn’t need to know who Declan is. Ever.
“We’re just messing around. It’s only a game,” I explain, lying through my teeth.
“A game where you throw punches? Huh?” He gets all up in my face, his eyes wild. I’ve figured by now that either Dave has a tough love sort of approach to parenting, or he just hates me. “Did you just blow a bunch of money? Is that why you’re pissed?”
“Yeah, I lost,” I lie, stepping back from him. Lying is much easier than admitting I threw a punch because I can’t bear the thought of my dad, though I’m sure if I told Dave this, he’d understand. At least I’d like to think so. He knows how badly my dad hurt me when I was a kid.
Dave pinches the bridge of his nose and inhales deeply. “Get in your car and follow me home. Right now,” he orders.
“Dave, c’mon—”
“No,” he cuts in. “I said rightnow. You’re going home to your mom.” He grabs my shoulder and firmly guides me across the beach, back up to the parking lot where both our cars are parked. I don’t put up a fight and I don’t glance back over my shoulder either, because I know Warren is probably laughing his ass off at me being escorted home by my fucking stepdad. Now I really do feel like a kid, so I keep my head low. Once we reach our cars, I shrug Dave’s hand off my shoulder and pull open my door, sliding inside. But Dave slams his hand down on the roof of the vehicle before I can close it again.
“Straight home, Tyler,” he says firmly, fixing me with a look. “I know you’ve got a lot to deal with, but you can’t keep doing stuff like this.”
I roll my eyes at him as I pull my door shut. He really thinks I’m going to take off as though I’m scared of him? I really don’t have the energy, and honestly, I don’t even care that much. I was planning on heading home soon anyway.
It’s only a fifteen-minute drive back to the house, but it feels like forever, mostly because I am stuck behind Dave, and every time we are stopped at a set of lights, I can see him glaring at me in his rearview mirror. I pretend not to notice, and I play my music too loud with my window down all the way back to Deidre Avenue.
