If looks could kill. “Dexter, stop. I’m not mad.”
“Then what?”
He doesn’t respond as we walk down the hall. George and Charlie have the food we’re bringing over and we start toward the door.
“Have fun,” Mrs. Jones calls, glancing up from her book.
“Sure you don’t want to come?” George asks.
“Nah, you guys have your thing. I’ve never been much for TV.”
“We’ll be back early,” Jake says, getting his attitude in check for her. At least there’s that.
I close the door behind us and the four of us walk down the steps and into the yard.
“Are you going to answer me?” I say, not ready to let this go. I’m not sure why it’s bothering me so much. Maybe it’s because things are going well for me right now, really well, and I want to make sure Jake’s doing okay. That I’m not missing something.
“What are you two bitching about?” George asks, stopping in the driveway.
“Dex is trying to probe into my emotions or some bullshit,” Jake says. “And he won’t let it drop.”
“Well, you have been a little cranky lately,” George says, sliding his eyes to Jake. Charlie takes a step back in case his brother is about to get body-slammed for that comment. I don’t blame him. I’m not the only one with a temper around here. George, of course, doesn’t stop. “What’s up?”
“Nothing’s up.”
“It’s about Starlee,” I blurt. “They’re not—”
“Don’t say it,” Jake warns.
My intention is clear.
“Ever?” George asks, looking at me.
I shrug. Charlie shifts uncomfortably. I’m not sure he and Starlee have had sex either, but it’s not as much of a surprise. And he’s not the one acting like a dick, anyway.
“For Christ’s sake.” Jake starts toward the house, his broad shoulders tense. “You’re just a bunch of gossips.”
“No wonder he’s wound up,” George says, following him up the path. We’re nearing the porch when I spot Jake coming back down the steps, hand running through his hair. He stops before us.
“You know what my problem is?”
“Well, yeah, now we do,” George says. That kid is always looking for a beatdown. “But it’s chill. You’re not ready. Or she’s not. Right?
”
“Of course I’m ready,” he replies in a low voice. We’re just outside the house. “You heard her mom the other day. Starlee’s headed to some southern Ivy League college. I looked it up. It’s hard to get into. Expensive. The kind of school I could never get into.”
Charlie frowns. “What are you talking about? You want to go with her?”
Jake shakes his head. “No, but hearing about that school, it just kind of confirms how smart she is. How she’s got big things ahead—more than hanging out with a dumb jock. I just…I want to be better for her. Smarter. I want her to be proud of me.”
I try to follow his train of thought. “You think she’s not?”
“Why would she be? You guys all have something real—something you can count on. Dexter, you’re a freaking genius in the kitchen—you’re going to build an empire. Charlie can probably hack into the Pentagon and George is an amazingly talented artist. I can barely read. College is only an option because of football. If I get hurt or they decide they don’t need me? I’m screwed.” He swallows. “She deserves better.”
“So,” George says, massaging his temples, “if I’m following this right, what you’re saying is you’re not having sex with Starlee because you’re not good enough for her?”
“Yeah, I guess.”