His playful edge disappears behind a scowl. “No. So, did you fuck that guy or not?”
“No,” I say. “He’s fucking brilliant, and I admire the shit out of him, but we never had that kind of relationship. And who are you to judge? Just because you didn’t fuck any of these girls doesn’t mean you haven’t sucked your way through every girl in Faulkner.”
“I don’t eat pussy,” he snaps.
Duke appears then, slinging an arm around Royal’s shoulders, Baron a few steps behind “Don’t worry, girl,” Duke says, already slurring a little. “I got you. A couple licks from this tongue, and you’ll be screaming so loud you break the sound barrier.” He wiggles his tongue at me, and Royal shoves him off.
I roll my eyes and address the leader. “Oh, sorry, have you told me that before? I’m losing track of all your rules.” I count them off on my fingers. “You don’t cum, you don’t date high school girls, you don’t eat pussy, you don’t answer questions… Anything else I should know?”
“You don’t need to know anything about me,” he growls. “You’re not my girlfriend. You’re something to play with until it breaks and then throw away. That’s it.”
“Be that as it may,” I say through gritted teeth. “When there are more guys whose dicks I’ve sucked than girls who’ve sucked your dick in any given group, you can give me shit. Until then, you might want to reign in the misogyny. Pretty sure that hasn’t been cute since the 90s.”
“Oh shit,” Baron says. “Look out. Here comes the angry feminist. The height of originality.”
“You know what’s even less original?” I ask. “A man using his dick as a weapon to intimidate women.”
“I don’t have to use my dick for that,” Baron says with a haughty smirk.
“Look, I get it, you’re all complete psychopaths,” I say. “You’ve made your point. But maybe you should reign in the Me-Tarzan-You-Jane bullshit every now and then. I am zero percent attracted to Zephyr, but he’s a genuinely good human being. He helped try to find your sister.”
The air leaves the group. For a second, my breath catches, as if her ghost has sucked up all the oxygen around us. “What?” Royal asks, his voice low and deadly.
“If you’d talked to him for a minute, you might have figured that out,” I say. “That’s why he told you who his dad was, asshole. He didn’t want a fucking autograph. He thought you might remember his name.”
For all his faults, Zephyr’s dad really did try to help, even if he was really just doing it for the money. Still. Zephyr was the only person on our side of town who seemed to give a fuck about that whole missing rich kids situation. He felt somehow responsible for what his dad did, and he wanted to help make it right because he’s Zephyr, and under the arrest record and somewhat surly attitude toward authority, he’s got a moral compass made of pure gold.
“What do you mean, he tried to help find her?” Baron asks. “Like, he was in the search parties?”
I shrug. “Yeah. Well, Zephyr was. He didn’t expect you to remember him because of that. But his dad was the one who sold a car to a couple teenagers outside the liquor store that night.”
“What teenagers?” Royal asks, and when I glance at him, he’s got that hollow look in his eyes.
I’m not about to tell him Zephyr’s dad was drunk off his ass, since that’s the kind of thing you pretend you don’t see and definitely don’t say about a friend’s parent, but these guys act like they’ve never heard this before. I swallow hard. Shouldn’t they know this? “He said he couldn’t remember what they looked like, but it could have been the kids on the news—your sister and her boyfriend, I guess. He told all this to your dad when he offered money to anyone with information that might lead to her.”
No one says anything for a second. Then Royal tosses his full beer on the ground. “We’re leaving.”
“Dude, we just got here,” Duke says. “And I totally would have taken that beer.”
That beer cost me five bucks, but I keep my mouth shut. I know when shit doesn’t concern me.
Baron puts a hand on Duke’s shoulder. “We’ve got a ride home,” he says, nodding to Royal. “Go on. I’ll look out for this asshole.”
Their gazes lock for a long moment, and I’m reminded of that moment on the field tonight, when Baron grabbed him and held him steady. I thought in the car that Duke might be the favorite and that’s why he takes the better seat, but it’s not like that. Baron may not be as loud or flashy as Duke, but that doesn’t mean he’s not just as connected, as important, to Royal. He just plays a different part in their family.
Without another word, Royal turns and walks away. The twins will probably go home with whatever piece of ass they can pick up, which means I’ll be stuck finding my own ride. I’m not too worried about it. With Faulkner High here, someone will have me covered. Duke stumbles off after a girl teetering across the gravel in high heels, and I decide it’s time to go find Jolene. Soon enough, I spot her with a drink in hand and a cigarette between her lips, surrounded by a circle of admirers.
I swear, the girl is magnetic. Can’t fault her for getting everything she can out of it.
I grab another beer, figuring the Faulkner side isn’t off limits if Royal’s not here to see, but not two minutes later, Gloria Walton comes mincing over and links her arm through mine, pulling me out of the crowd. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?” she says.
“Really?” I ask, pulling away. “Now it’s not just the Dolces keeping tabs on me, it’s you, too?”
“I’m not keeping tabs on you,” she says. “I’m looking out for you.”
“How, exactly, is this looking out for me?”
“Because there are people keeping tabs on you,” she says. “And Royal won’t like you mixing with Faulkner boys.”