Page 1 of Almost Ravaged

Chapter one

Sawyer

This harness is doing nothing for me.

Except inducing enough underboob sweat to soak through my bra, I guess. At least my tank top is dark red and won’t glow under the black lights once we enter the arena.

The prevailing scent of stale sweat reminds me of how Atty’s hockey bag smelled before he knew about things like deodorant and body spray. It’s so putrid and thick I can taste it. Nasty.

Wrinkling my nose, I adjust the chest straps again. But I give up with a huff when they don’t budge past the curve of my hips.

It’s hopeless.

Laser tag vests were not made with women’s bodies in mind.

I wouldn’t even bother with this silly game if it weren’t for the guaranteed stop at Wild Willy’s on the way home.

That’s not true, actually. I’m here because it’s tradition.

Perhaps the last one we’ll share, Atticus, Tytus, and me.

The boys are moving north to join a new junior A team based in Verchamp this fall, while I’ll be starting my first year of university.

Which is what I’ve always wanted, I remind myself. To live on campus. To be on my own, surrounded by people who want to learn and are just as eager to soak up the university experience. Change isn’t bad, even if it doesn’t feel good right now.

I banish the somber thoughts from my mind. I can’t think about being away from the boys on a more permanent basis without getting emotional.

We have the whole summer ahead of us, and for now, all I want to focus on is today.

Ty’s birthday is tomorrow. Atticus and I will turn eighteen in twelve days. May has always been “birthday month” for the three of us. When we were younger, that meant joint parties. But over the last few years, we’ve started a tradition of our own.

We each get a day, usually on a weekend and scheduled around the boys’ practices and games. The person we’re celebrating calls the shots. No complaining from the others. No pushback. Wherever the birthday person wants to go. Whatever they want to do. It’s their day, plain and simple.

Today is Tytus’s day, and he requested laser tag and ice cream. Just like he has for the last three years.

It’s not lost on me that laser tag is actually Atty’s favorite pastime outside of hockey.

Or that Tytus doesn’t really like ice cream.

Leave it to him to figure out a way to make his day about the two of us instead of focusing on himself. He’s selfless to a fault and has been for as long as I can remember.

Ty has lived with us for nine years now. Officially half our lives.

He’s Atty’s best friend. His partner on the defensive line.

He’s my… well.

I guess that’s more complicated.

He’s my best friend, too. And sometimes, when we stand shoulder-to-shoulder against the wall in the hallway, waiting for Atty to come out of the bathroom, or when it’s my night to cook and he hangs out in the kitchen, it feels like we’re not just friends, but more.

More.

It’s a fantasy I’ve never allowed myself to fully embrace.

As much as I wish for more, it’s not an option. At least not now, while we live under one roof with my parents and my brother.

My mom and dad fought like hell to become foster parents for Ty. He may not share our last name, but they view him as a son all the same.