Holliman,I realized belatedly—as in Meredith’s boyfriend, Greg. I startled in spite of myself. Seeing him in the flesh feltstrangely like catching a glimpse of a celebrity, someone whose reputation preceded him: he was tall and broad and gym-rat muscley in a green-and-white striped rugby shirt, wavy brown hair tucked underneath a backward Sox cap. He shrugged, looking completely and admirably unbothered by all three Kendricks staring poison in his direction, by the fact that he was clearly unwanted in this place. “Just wanderlust, I guess.”
“In that case,” Wells said, shoving past his brother and getting right up into Greg’s face, “why don’t youwanderyourself on back where you came from?”
“Wells,” Jasper said quietly. “Easy.”
He said it like he was calling off a dog, and to my surprise, it actually seemed to work—Wells’s posture relaxed a little, his shoulders coming down from around his ears. “Get the fuck out of here, Holliman,” he said.
Greg smirked. “You keep him on a pretty short leash, huh?” he asked Jas.
That was a mistake: Right away Wells was ready to go again—his chest getting bigger, hands balling into fists at his sides. He was more than a little bit drunk. “You know what, man? Why don’t you and I finally just—”
“Wells,”Jasper said again, more sharply this time. “Let it go.” His gaze flicked to Greg. “He’s leaving.”
But Wells wasn’t buying. “Let itgo?” he demanded, rounding on his brother. In the second before he schooled his expression into anger, I thought he looked legitimately hurt. “Is that what you think I should do? Or forget me, even: Is that what you thinkDadshould do?”
Jasper flinched. “Dude,” he started, “I’m just saying there’s no point in letting him ruin the whole—”
“He’s just saying, don’t be such a little bitch all the time, Wellsy,” Greg interrupted helpfully. “Girls don’t like it.”
“Can you shut the fuck up?” Jasper demanded, whirling on him. A crowd had started to gather by now, Doc and me both inching closer to offer backup. Meredith looked utterly miserable, her sharp gaze flicking nervously back and forth between Greg and the Kendricks as she twisted her hands together. I didn’t envy her, caught between both sides. “For fuck’s sake, man. Did you come here specifically to get the shit beat out of you, or what?”
“What, by you guys?” Greg laughed at that, looking almost fond of them. “I mean, you can try.” As much as I hated to admit it, he had a point. Not only did he look like he could take Wells and Jasper in a fight, but he kind of looked like he could bench-press them both and maybe me for good measure without even breaking a sweat. It was funny, though: Most of the dudes I knew at Bartley played a couple of sports, but they weren’t meatheads, and rather than being threatening, the whole aesthetic kind of had the opposite effect. It gave Greg the look of somebody who was trying hard to be intimidating. And if there was one thing I knew about these people, it was never to let any of them see you try.
Still, I couldn’t help but feel a little bit uneasy. I knew plenty of guys like Greg at school, the kind who’d spent their whole lives walking around protected by a hard shell of privilege. Jasper was that way too, sort of, though with him it was more like the candy coating of an M&M: apply a little heat, it would melt away and he’d become a regular person. This guy, clearly, was all jawbreaker.
“Look,” Jasper said now, his voice reasonable. He hated Greg, maybe, but he liked a party more, and he wasn’t about to let anyone, not even his sworn enemy, ruin this one. “Can we just—”
“Can we justwhat,exactly?” Wells asked, his face twisting into an ugly snarl. “What the fuck is your problem, Jasper? Can you pick a fucking side, for once in your life? Are you part of this family or not?”
For a moment Jasper just reeled, his reaction as physical as if his brother had decked him. “Fuck you, Wells,” he said, and his voice was so quiet.
Greg liked that: “Yeah, Wells,” he said cheerfully. “Fuck you.”
That was when Wells hit him.
It was a sloppy fight, both of them drunk and neither one of them a particularly experienced fighter, shoving each other roughly and landing the occasional messy punch. Jasper tried to pull them apart, catching an elbow to the throat for his trouble; he stumbled, letting go of his brother with a sharp, surprised cough. I jumped in to help him, pushing Wells up against the exterior of August House as gently as I could. “Dude,” I tried, “just—”
“Get your hands off me, Linden.” Wells shrugged me off, then went after Greg one more time. His fist connected with the side of Greg’s face with a nauseating crack, but Greg only reeled for what felt like a second before hitting him back.
It took all three of us—Doc, Jasper, and me—a long time to pull them apart, Meredith and Eliza screaming at them to cut it out while the rest of the party catcalled gamely; by the time they were finished, Greg’s nose was bleeding and Wells had a nasty-looking gash below one eye, his navy-blue polo ripped at the collaras he stormed off across the yard. “Oh my god,” Meredith said, reaching her hand out in Greg’s direction, “are you okay?” He batted her away.
Jasper turned to Greg then, looking more exhausted than I’d ever seen him, even during finals or after a particularly brutal crew practice. “Dude,” he said. “Just go, okay?”
Greg blinked at that, dazed or drunk or both, then nodded. “Yeah,” he agreed, “seems like it’s about that time.” He was smiling that same smug, self-satisfied smile that seemed to be his trademark, but I thought there was something hollow in his voice, like possibly the fun had gone out of it for him. He nodded at Meredith, clearly expecting her to take off along with him; when she hesitated, her gaze cutting guiltily to Eliza, he muttered something I didn’t catch and stalked off alone across the yard.
Once he was gone, Eliza clapped her hands together, sunny as a camp counselor on the first day of summer. “Well!” she said brightly. “I think it’s probably time for everybody to get the fuck out of our house, don’t you all agree?”
That broke it up, all right, people heading home or down to the beach or off to another party somebody knew about closer to town. Doc and I helped Jasper gather up the trash strewn around the deck, tossing it all into the bins hidden discreetly at the back of the pool house. “What happened to your brother?” I asked, glancing around for Wells, but Jasper only snorted.
“Oh, come on,” he said, a lightness in his voice I was almost sure he was faking. “Does he really strike you as the kind of person who helps clean up after a party?”
It was a little after one by the time we were finished; I wentupstairs to the turret and stared at the poisonous plants while I changed into a pair of basketball shorts and a T-shirt. I dicked around on my phone for a while. Finally I got out of bed. “Dude,” I muttered to myself, then went into the bathroom and swallowed a giant gulp of mouthwash. “Nut up already.”
I glanced at myself once more in the mirror above the sink, then made my way as quietly as I could down the creaking steps to the door of Eliza’s bedroom. I took a deep breath, and Iknocked.
