Silas seems to come to, his glassy eyes slowly taking in my room. “Where the fuck are we?” His voice sounds scratchy. I’m not surprised he doesn’t recognize my room since he’s never been here. Hell, Camille has only been here a few times even though we’ve been dating since senior year.
Margaret drops down beside him. “We’re at Ben’s house.”
Silas seems to focus on Margaret. “We were in that truck.”
She nods.
He tries to sit up but falls back against her. “Shit, my head hurts.”
God, what a fuckup.
I pick up a towel off the floor and toss it to Margaret. “I’d rather he not bleed all over the carpet.” I watch as she mops up his face.
These two are a disaster. Silas is the definition of an entitled asshole who knows money solves all problems and consequences don’t apply to him. Daddy has always fixed everything and always will. Margaret is from my part of town, lives a couple of streets away, and latched on to Silas their junior year of high school and hasn’t let go.
There are a lot of similarities between Margaret and me, and it’s not lost on me that most people in this town lump us together when discussing the Everett kids’ dating choices. It’s clear Randall would prefer both his kids spent time with people he considered socially equal, but there’s no one that fits that description in this town. The Everetts are in a class all their own.
There was a big push for Camille to keep her options open once she started college at Tulane. And it would have been easy to do since I went to LSU, but somehow we’ve managed to stay together. Although I’m not sure our relationship will survive the summer while she bounces through Europe. Her calls and texts are growing more and more infrequent.
Randall likes to ship both of his kids off for the summer. Silas is supposed to be working on some cattle ranch in Texas but he keeps sneaking back to town to see Margaret any chance he gets.
“Somebody tell me what happened!”
Silas looks at me, his face washed in confusion, then turns to Margaret. “We got in that truck.” His memory seems to stop at that moment.
I pinch the bridge of my nose and force myself not to lose my shit on these two dumbasses. “I’m guessing y’all were in an accident?”
His hands go to his head and he grips his hair, groaning in pain. “Why were we in that truck?”
“How much did he drink? And what did he take?” I ask Margaret. “And whose truck were you in?” Silas drives a jacked-up Jeep, not a truck. Margaret doesn’t have a car.
She ignores me, focusing on Silas. “You wanted to get food. Remember?”
He jerks his head up. “If I fucking remembered, would I ask you why we were in it?”
This takes the air right out of her.
“Okay, let’s settle down,” I say. “She’s trying to help you, Silas. Don’t be an asshole.”
Margaret throws her hands up, defending him even though he doesn’t deserve it. “It’s okay, Ben. He’s confused. And hurt.”
I can’t keep watching this without knowing what’s going on. “Margaret, you can either tell me what happened or y’all can crawl right back out of my window and find somewhere else to go.”
Silas turns to her as if he’s as curious about the answer as I am.
“We were at Paul Granger’s—”
I interrupt her and turn to Silas. “Your dad will lose his shit if he finds out you’re hanging out at Paul’s.”
“Let her finish.” And now he’s taking up for her.
She glances at me then gives her full attention to Silas. “Everyone was there—Grant and Emily, Jack, Nathan and Sam. Partying. You wanted to stay behind when the others left to go to the gin.”
The cotton gin is right outside of town, where high school kids hang out since there’s nothing else to do here.
“Silas, aren’t you supposed to be in Texas right now?”
He lies back on my floor, covering his face with the towel.
