“Why did you tell Brando about Ace?”
“He asked.”
“How could he ask about something he didn’t know about?”
“That’s the way our arrangement goes.” He shrugged. “I tell him things he doesn’t know about.”
“You’re a tattler.”
“Names can’t hurt me. Neither can punches. I have an older brother.” He seemed so unapologetic, so carefree, so irritatingly proud.
“What does he give you in return? For the information?” I took a step closer to him.
He pushed back a locker. “Nothing.”
“Why do it then?”
He lifted his hands. “Loyalty. He’s like family. And I refuse to talk about it anymore. If you have an issue with our arrangement, take it up with him.”
Our eyes locked, ping against pong, until Violet blew through, her presence causing our game to come to a hesitant end.
Violet wrapped her arm around his, tugging him closer. “So, are you coming with us this weekend,Sandy?”
I hugged my books tighter to my chest. “Us? This weekend?”
“We’re going to another party by the tracks.” Violet smiled at Mick. After it faded, she turned to me, her eyes widening in a way that clearly communicated she was sending me a subliminal message—pay attention, it screamed. “I dare you—”
“We’ll see.”
“I dare—”
“We’ll see,” I interrupted her again. After Brando had brought up dancing again, the decision weighed heavily on my mind, and I wasn’t sure if I was up for all of the loud music and drunken immaturity. He had given me something to stew over. Something my mother had been on pins and needles about.
“Well,” Violet said in a huff. “Don’t say I didn’t ask you.” She gave Mick a peck on the cheek. “I’ll see you both later.” Moving away, she was quickly swallowed up by the surge of the crowd.
I went to follow Violet, but before I could get too far, a hand wrapped around my arm and stopped me.
“Ace.” I blinked.
“Scarlett.” A big white smile blossomed on his face and brightened his tan complexion. The color was much different than Brando’s. His was more golden, where Brando was more bronze. “Can we?” He nodded toward the wall, where a spot had cleared.
“Actually,” I said, pointing to nowhere in general, “I was just about to grab lunch and then read.” To prove the point, I lifted my current romance novel, then quickly turned it over, not wanting him to get the wrong idea about my intentions. The cover wassteamy.
“Lucky me. I’m headed that way myself.” His Texan accent came out clear and strong. It might have been an endearing quality, under different circumstances.
I studied him for a moment. He studied me.
“Scarlett!” Mick came barreling down the hall, bumping into people. “Scarlett!” He came to stand between Ace and me. He grabbed me by the arm, tugging. “We need to talk.”
Ace stepped in front of him. He ticked his mouth. “We have plans. Let the lady go.”
I stepped in between the two, who glared at each other. People were starting to slow, to take notice.
I looked at Ace. “I…need to talk to Mick. I’ll meet you for lunch in a few.” If felt rude to just dismiss him all together, though something inside of me told me to. Still, years of ingrained politeness caused me to falter.
“I’ll wait here.” Ace nodded to the spot where he stood. “He can have a few minutes with you, but you’re mine for lunch.” He seemed to be speaking through Mick to me; not once did his eyes waver.
Taking Mick by the arm, I all but dragged him from the tense scene. When we were far enough that I knew Ace couldn’t hear, I stopped. But I still had to bump Mick to get his attention. His eyes were still locked in silent battle with Ace.
