“I’ll be back by seven,” Tyler says as I fall into step beside him, the camera recording both our faces in that lazy, sunlit afternoon light. He glances sideways casually, but there’s a spark in his eyes.
“How about we go to Kim’s birthday party tonight?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think I’ll make it. Sunday school ends around six, then I’ve got a couple of weed orders to drop off, and…” I hesitate, adjusting the strap of my bag. “I’m meeting Nate at the treehouse at nine.”
That stops Tyler cold.
He turns to face me, eyebrows knitting together.
“You’re meeting up with Nate?”
His voice is tight like he’s trying hard to keep something level.
I lift the camera slightly, avoiding his gaze. “Yeah. Why?”
“The jock, Nate? The one graduating today? Your stupid step-brother’s friend?”
I sigh. “Tim’s not my stepbrother, Tyler. Stop calling him that.”
“Well, he will be,” Tyler snaps. “With the way your mom and his dad are playing house.”
I roll my eyes and look away, trying not to let his words stick. He’s not wrong, but still, it makes something in my chest pull tight.
Tyler keeps staring at me, like I’ve just told him I joined a cult.
“Why the hell are you meeting Nate at the treehouse? Alone?”
“He wants to talk,” I say, then my voice drops a little awkwardly. “He says he feels bad. About trying to kiss me the other day in the school bathroom.”
“He also wants to buy some weed,” I add with a shrug.
Tyler is staring now—really staring. His mouth is slightly open, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing.
I rub the back of my neck, heat crawling up my cheeks.
“He said he likes me. I don’t know if I feel the same. I haven’t decided.”
“Lucas,” he says, and it sounds like he’s searching the entire earth for patience. “Nate is part of that friend group that’s made your life hell since middle school. He’s Tim’s friend. Why the hell would you even talk to him, let alone go all moony-eyed over him?”
“I’m not moony-eyed,” I snap, a little too fast. “I don’t have a crush on him.”
But even as I say it, my cheeks go warm, and I hate that Tyler notices.
He arches a brow. “You’re literally blushing.”
I shake my head quickly. “No, I’m just… hot. The sun’s out. It’s not a crush. He doesn’t bully me. Not like the others.”
“And Clara?” Tyler says. “You know—his girlfriend?”
“They broke up last week,” I mutter, almost under my breath.
There’s a long pause. The air feels heavier now, like the sun’s shifted behind a cloud.
Tyler runs a hand through his hair and lets out a dry, humorless laugh.
“You know, you’re one of the smartest people I know. But sometimes, just sometimes, you make the most stupid decisions, and it pisses me off.”
“You’re not my mother, Tyler. It’s not your place to tell me what and what not to do,” I snap. Sharper than I intend.
