“I should probably buy a shovel.” I shrug, and the next laugh that leaves Boone is lighter and more genuine to his easy-going nature. “You alright?” I ask him.
“I will be, eventually.” Boone nods, his hair falling around his face from its brushed-back, professional-looking form. “I can see it in her; his days are numbered.”
“You’ve been saying that for six years, Boone.” I take a swig of my own beer as he pops what looks like a crab cracker into his mouth.
“I know my girl,” he says, and I believe him. “She’s fed up.”
That’s a scary thought, Kaia Keegan at the end of her rope.
“Reaper looked like she was having fun,” Boone notes after a long beat of welcome silence. “Can’t believe you put that on for her.” He points to the dress shirt.
“I did it because Day wouldn’t leave it alone,” I scoff.
“That’s such a load of crap,” Boone laughs, poking me in the chest with his finger. “You came because you have a crush on Reaper.”
“Nope,” I shake my head. “Friends. I came here as her friend.”
“Rhea Drake has plenty of fucking friends, Bri, none of them spin her around on the dancefloor until she’s dizzy and weak in the knees.” Boone pushes with a wicked grin, and I hate the way the memory warms the base of my chest.
“She drank half a bottle of gin tonight. The dizziness wasn’t me,” I argue.
“Nah, Bri. You’re rewiring something in that girl's brain whether you mean to or not,” Boone says. Too observant for his own good. “Just don’t do it if you don’t mean it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I scowl. I’m not doinganything.
“It means make sure you know what the wordfriendmeans before you cross any lines.” Boone smiles at me, and I want to argue, but I hear him, and I nod. “You should listen to me. I know a thing or two about being a friend…”
“Hah,” I bark, “you poor, sad son of bitch.”
“She looked like a fucking angel tonight.”
“Kaia Keegan has never been an angel,” I argue, and Boone gives in to the statement without a fight.
“You know I couldn’t imagine doing that to Day,” he says after a few more snacks, and sets his beer down to clean off his fingers. “Just not showing up. Especially for something like this? If she won that award tonight, I’d drag Dad down here at gunpoint just to make him witness the incredible person she grew up to be.”
I draw in a short, painful breath of cold air between my teeth.
“We can just stop at gunpoint and leave it there. He doesn’t really deserve the rest,” I say.
“Yeah, I guess he doesn’t…” Boone chews on the thought.
Our parents weren’t the greatest, even before we figured out what was going on with Sunday. Dad only got worse after that. Spewing garbage that she just needs to get her head right and believe that he’s not sick. Such bullshit.
“But I get what you're saying.” I lean against the tailgate. “I heard her talking to her Mom on the phone, and I couldn’t do that, to Day… to Daisy?” I huff.People really need to stop making her sad.
“Yeah, well, luckily, we all have you.” Boone nods, “and Day has never felt like that, ever, Bri. And it’s because you took care of us.”
“Like a bull in a china shop,” I laugh, and he smiles.
“Semantics,” he huffs, “it’s why we push so hard, you know. Because we know, we might not have always gotten it, but we know now. How much did you carry after Mom and Dad bailed?”
“You were just kids,” I say.
“We,” Boone corrects. “We were all just kids, but you stepped up, and it’s our turn to do that for you. With your hands, with Daisy.” He sighs, “But you have to let us. You can’t do it alone, even if you think you can.”
“I’m doing just fine, Boone.” I shut him down.
“You can say that shit to Sunday all you want, Bri, but Iknowyou aren’t.” Boone steps forward and pokes me in the chest above my heart. “We’re pretty different a lot of the time, but we’re still connected, and I feel all that hurt radiating off of you, but you won’t just find a way to let it go.” He pauses, “Isn’t it heavy?”
