It’s Joker.
Henri purses her lips. “It’s against the law to talk on cell phones while you’re driving.”
“A lot of the stuff I do is against the law, kid. This is pretty minor in the big picture.” I don’t know why I told her that. Maybe to get her to settle down, but it doesn’t. Instead, she looks intrigued.
Joker interrupts our moment of bonding. “You gotta come back from camping. We got Church, and Hangman wants everyone there.”
Shit, I didn’t want to take Henri to the clubhouse. It’s not a place for kids. Well, it is for the club’s kids, but that’s different. They know how the world works, they’re part of the future of our club. “I can’t.”
“Fuck, you can’t. You’re not exempt from our shit just because Oscar can’t get along with some kid.”
No point in arguing with the VP. He carries as much authority as Hangman.
“Got it,” I say in my dead voice, then hang up. The bastard’s right and besides, Selkie didn’t protest when I raised the issue earlier. I look over at Henri. “We gotta go to the clubhouse. I have a meeting.”
“Meetings are boring,” Henry replies. “I’ll fall asleep.”
“You’re not goin’ to the meeting.”
“Mom says I have to go everywhere with you.”
“We’ll be sharing the same air and there are kids at the clubhouse that you can hang out with while I meet with my club.”
“Max,” she sneers.
I glance over at her as I crank up the speed. Not a surprise she knows Max because he goes to the same school. “What’s wrong with Max?”.
She rolls her eyes. “He’s Oscar’s friend.”
And also more obnoxious than Oscar so I don’t know why she doesn’t have a hate on for him too.
“Other kids too. Sean.”
“I know Sean,” she says. “He’s a dweeb.”
“Be nice to him. He’s had it rough.”
“Whatever,” she says as she looks out the side window. “It’s all boys though.”
“Max has a sister. Brielle. She’ll probably be there. You can play with her.”
“I don’t really play anymore, Brody,” she says in the same tone her mother uses. “I hang out.”
“You got choices on what to call me, kid,” I reply as my irritation rises. “You can call me Mr. Brody, or Nate or Eight, but you call me Brody again, I’ll tie you to a toilet and lock you in a bathroom stall.”
She’s quiet for a moment, then, “Fine. I’ll call you Eight. It’s the best name anyway. But you have to stop calling me kid.”
She’s right. Respect goes both ways. “Henri, then.”
She shakes her head. “I want a nickname like you.”
“It’s a road name, not a nickname.”
“I want a road name.”
Christ, does it ever stop? No wonder Selkie’s half nuts. “Fine. What’s your road name then?”
“Hmmm,” she replies. “Hawwww,” she adds with a smirk, then her eyes light up. “Eleven. I want to be called Eleven.”
