‘We won’t be far.’ He winks, and suddenly a whole different feeling replaces that emptiness. I’m just not sure it’s one I should be feeling for someone I’ve known almost my whole life.
‘Wait till you see what I’ve got on the ’stang.’ Jace claps his hands and rubs them together. ‘I haven’t installed the new sound system yet so it’s still all over the seats.’
‘It’s all good, I’ve got the truck.’
‘Will you stick around and help me with junior tryouts later?’
Ryker gives a lopsided grin. ‘You didn’t check the chat, huh? Tryouts got moved to tomorrow. We’ve got practice instead.’
‘Oh, hell yes, I’m not in the mood for it today.’ He sighs his relief before looking at me. ‘You riding with the prince?’Jace asks. I chance a glance at Ryker, and the look in his eyes almost has me saying yes.
‘No. I was just saying I need air.’
‘Alright,’ Jace says easily, fishing around in the key bowl on the hall table. ‘I’ll lock up.’
With a nod, I head out, getting halfway across the lawn before the front door slams shut. I’ve already made it to the next block when the Mustang passes, its rumble so loud that I hear it through my AirPods and feel it in my chest.
Jace hangs out the window, one hand on the steering wheel. ‘Make good decisions!’ he mocks in his best impression of Ma. I blow out a laugh as he takes off down the road, but frown when I realise Ryker’s vehicle isn’t following. I take the earbuds out of my ears, and the only sound accompanying the slow morning is a low purr coming from behind me. I look back, seeing Ryker’s glossy black Raptor ghosting along the parking lane.
‘What are you doing?’ I ask when he stops beside me.
The window is cracked halfway, but the tint is so dark, I can barely see him inside. ‘You sure you don’t want a lift?’
I shake my head. ‘I’ll be sitting down all day. I like the walk. I’ll meet you there.’
He says nothing and I wish I could see his whole face to understand what he’s even thinking.
The truck bunny-hops from coasting in low gear, and a laugh bursts free from me. ‘Go,’ I urge. ‘You can’t crawl the truck all the way to campus. I won’t be far behind.’
It’s not unusual for me to walk on my own, so when he continues to linger, I ask, ‘What’s going on?’
Ryker doesn’t answer for a moment. ‘We’re just … running out of time now. There’s only a few more weeks we can go in together.’
That small pang hits me again. He’s right. But after breathing in the smoke all morning, I really need fresh air.
‘I’ll come with you tomorrow, and every day after that. Just let me walk today.’ I try to compromise.
He fixes me with a hard look. ‘Every day?’
‘Every day.’
‘Deal.’ Seemingly satisfied, he slowly takes off, picking up the pace until he’s out of sight.
Ten minutes later, I near the large fountain in the centre of town. Across the square, the staff at Margarita Daze Grill – or MDs – are busy setting up chairs. Next door, Paradiso, the old record store that doubles as a cafe and cinema, won’t open till later this afternoon.
Booker Bay is a small town, so small that our university and high school combined almost take up the entire south side, along with the lighthouse. They’re state-of-the-art institutions with no expense spared on the basketball courts, ice rink and football field. It wasn’t a question of money, but one of space. Still, developers found a sliver of vacant land for new apartments and townhouses.
The only way to get to our little pocket of sand is through our neighbouring metropolis, Empire City. There’s one bridge that connects our island to them, and to the rest of civilisation. It’s funny, the bridge that connects us is also a reminder of how divided we are. The colleges, Booker Bay University and Empire City University, have a famous rivalry. Booker Bay is far from poor. We have green lawns, open space, marbled staircases, fancy porch lights and families cooking outside on extravagant grills. But Empire City is next level, and they know it.
I’m nearly at the fountain when erratic movement catches my attention. I turn and spot a huddle of boys. They looka few years older, probably my brother’s age. Their jerseys have the ECU logo, a hawk, embroidered on the left pocket.
ECU students don’t usually come over the bridge, but they’ve been everywhere lately. Probably because every year, close to Halloween, there’s The Prank, a chance for the Booker Bay Kings and Empire City Hawks players to get in each other’s heads before basketball finals. It’s never just a single prank. It’s a week’s worth of buildings getting spray painted and campuses getting trashed.
One of the boys dodges to the left, and I see a small brown dog cowering at their feet. The boy on the left raises a stick and, before he can bring it down, I’m nearly on them.
‘Hey! What are you doing?’ I shove them to the side, feeling heat rush to my cheeks, and bend down to scoop up the quivering dog.
Pa’s words ring clear through my mind. ‘Never turn your back on an enemy,’ so I quickly jump up and turn to face them.
