“You’re so green with envy right now, if I spat on you, you’d melt away,” I mutter under my breath.
Standing out here and posturing isn’t going to do anythingother than make us late, so I’m the first to look away and climb into the car.
“The hell is that supposed to mean?” He snarls.
I can’t help the quirk of my lips as I slam the door shut behind me. Of course he wouldn’t get that reference.
I meet Mirabelle’s eyes and there’s a bright sort of curiosity in her expression. She must be feeling how good it feels to actually talk back to Jett, even if the reference was a little silly.
Jett grumbles as he gets into the driver’s seat. Then, probably to get back at me, he starts playing screamo music at the maximum volume.
Mirabelle stiffens beside me, her eyes going wide.
Shit, she’s probably never heard music like this before.
I pull out my phone and open my notes app, typing away a message for her to read as Jett pulls off the farm.
I rest my phone on my thigh, facing her before tapping it.
She’s so observant. Her eyes immediately fly to my phone screen.
Sorry, Sugar. Jett’s being an ass. The music is just to freak us out. Try to ignore it.
Easier said than done, considering the bass feels like it’s bouncing back and forth in my skull.
To distract her, I type up another little message.
I’ll have to show you this movie sometime. It’s called The Wizard of Oz. It’s pretty old. My mom used to like it, I think. The evil witch of the west was green and she died when water was thrown on her.
Her eyes fly up to meet mine and I can see the smile she’s trying to bite back.
My lips quirk up ever so slightly in response.
I know it’s silly. Just had to share it with someone.
With her. There’s no one else I’d rather share anything with.
I think I need someone to be proud of me whenever I talk back to him cause I never used to.
Her eyes scan across my phone screen before her gaze darts back up to meet mine. I don’t need our bond to be complete to see how proud of me she is.
I don’t think it was ever a decision, on my part, to take care of her. It comes as easily to me as breathing. But I know my heart is in good hands with her.
Jett leaves us alone, for the most part, on the drive to the fight night. I have a pounding headache by the time we make it to the abandoned warehouse, where the night is being held.
But honestly? That’s not the worst shape I’ve been in after pissing off my brother, so I’d say things went as well as they could.
The headlights from his pick-up truck cast dark shadows across the tall buildings. There’s already a decent crowd of cars parked behind the building in the makeshift parking lot.
I feel something prickling at the back of my spine. The stack of cash I have tucked into the inside pocket of this zip-up hoodie feels like it’s burning a hole through the fabric. I don’t know whether it’s just paranoiaor something, but I don’t like the idea of parking in the general parking area.
When our dad was with us, he always insisted we park with the transport trucks.
“You sure we want to park here?” I yell over the music.
“Huh?”
“Shut that shit off!”
