“Have you heard about it? Dracula’s castle?” I asked. It sounded ridiculous out loud.
He shook his head and I continued to explain. “It’s not really a castle, but it’s this big stone tower that everyone says was haunted.”
“IS haunted!” Austin argued.
“Ishaunted,” I said, rolling my eyes. I had gone to Dracula’s castle at least five times with Austin since we’d moved here. I didn’t know if the story about the kid getting electrocuted at the top was really true, but the old tower had earned a reputation for being haunted by ghosts. “Actual ghosts!”is what everyone said. There were all kinds of stories.
“Anyway, so it’s a tower and people drive up there at night to drink and try not to get caught,” I explained to Kael.
“She’s acting like she’s cool now, but she’s always the first one to run back to the car.” Austin held up his drink to Kael and Mendoza, laughing.
“Oh, fuck off.” I shot him a look—more laughter followed.
Mendoza started to taunt Austin. “Oooh, looks like sis has grown up since I saw her last,” he said, picking up a bottle of dark liquor from the table.
“Shots, anyone?” he asked the room.
Everyone took a shot of warm liquor. Everyone except Kael, that was. There were shouts of “To Austin!” and “Welcome back, bro!” Austin gave a mock bow to acknowledge his friends as they celebrated his return. I wasn’t sure if any of them knew that he had been arrested. Looking around at these guys . . . well, I wasn’t sure if any of them would even concern themselves with something as trivial as a night in jail. But maybe I was being hard on them.
We all migrated back to the kitchen to cheer Austin’s return to Fort Benning. I put my shot glass in the sink and gathered up a few more. A guy in a bright blue T-shirt that saidBottoms Up!grabbed his glass back from me and went for a refill. Definitely a soldier. He was with a younger-looking guy wearing a brown band tee. Also a soldier. I kept forgetting how removed I had become from life on post. Sure, I still saw soldiers at work and at the grocery store. I still smiled at them while going through the gate to the Great Place, but I didn’t have any friends who were soldiers. Not one.
Not unless you counted my client, Stewart. She was the closest thing I had to an Army friend. But even though I liked and respected her, even though I felt close to her, I couldn’t really claim her as a friend. As Mali liked to remind us, clients were not our friends.
I turned on the hot water and rinsed out a few shot glasses just for something to do. I was glad Austin didn’t see me. He would have made some crack about my beingresponsible. It wouldn’t have been a compliment. God, it was so weird having him back, being at my dad’s, being surrounded by all these people. No doubt about it: this was Austin’s world, and I was only visiting.
I wasn’t the same person as I was before he left, though. It felt good to remind myself of that. And Austin, as much as he gathered people around him, he latched onto them, too. Which was risky in his case, because he was often the one to run, like our mother. And he often left broken hearts behind, also like her.
I walked over to Kael, Austin, and Mendoza.
“Another?” Mendoza asked.
“No way.” I shook my head and held up my hand, the universal symbol forno, thanks.
My stomach still burned as the tequila settled inside me. Mixing vodka and tequila was definitely going to have me suffering tomorrow. The flavor was strong—pretty good, but so strong compared to the cheap vodka diluted with sweet cranberry juice that I usually drank.
“Come on. Anyone?”
Austin’s eyes were on Kael, who was also saying no. He didn’t need to put his hand up or shake his head. Apparently, “no” is all the answer you need when it comes from a guy.
Austin turned to Mendoza and refilled his glass. “He’s trying to get as many shots in as possible before his wife calls for bedtime.” Austin heckled him.
By the way Mendoza smiled when my brother teased him, I could see their bond. He was a nice guy, this Mendoza. I could feel it. It was never easy to predict the people I would meet through my twin, because he never had a type. Soldiers were usually involved, but that could be more of a geographical thing. Mostly strays. Mostly friendly. But every pack had a few wild cards.
“Well, she did let him come out this week,” another male voice taunted. I turned around to see the guy in theBottoms Up!T-shirt holding his shot glass in a way that was slightly menacing. He had a square face, tiny lips, and a bad crew cut.
Mendoza laughed still, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Not like it did when he had joked with Austin. The guy in the T-shirt snickered, pointing a Bud Light bottle at Mendoza. “How many kids you got now, anyway?” This question was delivered with a straight face.
“Three,” Mendoza replied, humorless now. Something shifted in the room. I could feel it. Kael stiffened next to me. Austin inched closer to the two jerks.
“Three? That’s it? I thought I saw you driving out of the commissary with like ten—”
“You’re not funny, Jones. Neither are you, Dubrowski. Comedy’s not your thing. Now move along or get out,” Austin snapped, pointing his chin toward the door. His eyes may have been glassy, but he was fully present. He wasn’t having any of their shit.
The room was silent, except for the obnoxious intro music to the video game that was playing on a loop in the background.
“Chill, we’re leaving anyway,”Bottoms Up!said.
No one made a sound as Jones and Dubrowski set their beers on the counter, opened the back door, and left. Mendoza and Austin stared at each other for a second. I tried not to look, but I caught a glimpse of it.