Her eyebrow arches. “Gwendolyn, that’s a fantastic name.”
“Shut up,” I mutter.
“I’m serious! So wait, back up. Are you saying you haven’t told your Devils?” The Devils have always been a thing. Hollis may have even dated a few herself, back in the day.
“Nope.” I tear off half the label.
“Huh.” That seems to have surprised her. “So, like, how do you plan on making this relationship work?”
I exhale loudly, admitting, “I don’t know. But I really want to.” I look up at her with a cautious, beseeching grin. “Any advice?”
She sighs and reaches across the counter to take my hand. “I’m not going to lie, Hamilton. Going against the status quo as it directly relates to our family and community comes at a cost.” She looks around the small garage apartment. “Daddy doesn’t play games, so if you’re going to take a stand, make sure you’re ready to go through with it. All the way. I’m talking building a new savings account,” she lists, “building your own connections, looking at schools, finding out who your real friends are and whether or not they’ll support you. Imagine the worst-case scenario, and plan for that.”
“Do you regret your decision?” I ask, mind whirling with all the outcomes. “I mean, you’re not even seeing that girl anymore.”
“It wasn’t really about the girl,” she replies, basically confirming what I’ve known all along. “It was about standing up for myself and getting out from under his thumb. I realized that if I caved about some girl, I would cave over and over again about everything else. School, my major, who I married. It wasn’t worth it.”
I nod. “But what about the guys? The Devils, I mean. It’s such a fucked situation, Hollis, you have no idea. She’s had run-ins with them before. We’re talking one-hundred-percent organic, pasture-raised beef.”
“She’s a feisty one, huh?” I nod again and she laughs. “I like her already. The Devils are idiots—look, no offense—they’re like every other group of bullies. It’s all about power and posturing with them. You have to decide if this is really what you want to do, Hamilton. Because if you aren’t sure, then you’re going to put Gwendolyn in a dangerous position at school. I know what Devils are like.”
Hollis is right, exposing the truth about this relationship will be dangerous for Gwendolyn. Heston is looking for an opportunity to challenge me, especially after that day I punched him. I rub my chin.
“I don’t want to give her up,” I confess.
“Then you two need to come up with a plan. Don’t make any rash decisions, but remember, sneaking around won’t work forever. Take it from an old pro. I learned that one the hard way.”
“Thank you.” I exhale, feeling both relieved and more stressed than ever. “I really needed to talk to someone who would get it, you know?”
She walks around the counter and pulls me into a hug. “No problem, baby brother. And you don’t have to be a stranger. You’ve turned out to be a way cooler person than I expected.”
I laugh. “Ouch, harsh backhanded compliment.”
“Well, I did grow up with Mother. She’s an expert at those.”
“Right?”
I hug her again and head out, feeling lighter than I have in a while. It’s not that anything’s resolved, but I do have options. And she’s right. Gwendolyn and I, if we’re really doing this, we need to come up with a plan together. Between the two of us, we should be able to figure something out that won?
?t ostracize both of us from our friends and family.
When I get to the car, I receive a text. It’s Reagan.
You coming to Campbell’s party tomorrow night? Pick me up?
I stare at the screen, and then type out a quick reply. One decision I can make is to cut things off with Reagan for good, and tomorrow seems like the perfect time to do it.
23
Gwen
Just when I think I’ve survived Thanksgiving, my mother drops a bomb.
“I have a surprise for everyone,” she says, which makes Brayden and I share an uneasy glance. The twins are still young enough to like surprises, but we both know better. “I’ve invited some special people over for dinner tonight.” Dread pools in my stomach and I know what’s happening before she even finishes speaking. Her eyes flit nervously toward me before she says, “All of your ‘moms’ are getting together to celebrate a second Thanksgiving.”
“You,” my voice is perfectly flat, “have got to be kidding.”
The twins glance at one another, their expressions unreadable to anyone but themselves.