Page 29 of Attractive Forces

“Yes. I’m Jake Stenton.”

“It’s Mrs. Janey from Lakeside Intermediate. I’m sorry to bother you, Jake, but I can’t reach your mother, and Aaron gave me your number.”

“What’s wrong?”

“There was an incident after school involving Aaron. I’m going to need someone to come down here and pick him up.”

Oh god. Shit.

Logan pauses, his knife poised halfway between the butter and the bread on his plate.

“Okay, I’ll get there as soon as I can.”

I disconnect the call and press my fingertips to my forehead. What should I do? Should I interrupt Mum at the diner?

“What’s wrong?” Logan asks.

“It’s Aaron. I need to collect him from school.”

Logan sets down his knife. “I can drive you.”

“Are you sure that’s okay?”

“Of course it is.”

“Thanks.”

He grabs his keys. “To the Aaron rescue mobile, we go.”

Unfortunately, Aaron doesn’t share the same view that we’re gallant heroes come to rescue him.

Of course, once Ms. Janey tells me all about the massive fight Aaron started behind the gym after school, I’m not feeling particularly noble or gallant toward my brother, who won’t meet my gaze while Ms. Janey talks.

Instead, my mood setting is hovering somewhere around murderous.

Aaron’s hardly got a mark on him this time. His fighting technique is obviously improving. To be fair, he’s getting a lot of practice.

After Ms. Janey releases us with the promise to call Mum tonight, we walk in silence to Logan’s car.

It’s lucky we live close to the school because the deathly silence extends while Logan drives us home.

Logan keeps shooting me concerned glances, but I can’t unclench my jaw enough to give him even a small grin in return.

We pull up in our driveway.

“What do you say to Logan for bringing you home?” I say to Aaron as he opens the car door.

Aaron just gives me a withering glare as he climbs out. “I’m not five.”

Something inside me snaps.

I’m so sick of my brother and all the shit he’s doing. I’m sick of the way he’s acting out. Yes, we’ve been put in a goddamn-awful situation, but he’s making it so much worse.

“Really?” I climb out of the car and glare at him over the roof. “Because you’re acting like a five-year-old at the moment. So, excuse me if I feel I have to remind you of your manners.”

Aaron turns and storms toward the front door.

“Fuck you,” he throws over his shoulder.