Page 23 of Jerk

Mac approaches the fountain as the smoke from my cigarette rises towards the sun.

“That won’t be a problem.”

He plops beside me before he pulls the cigarette from my fingers. “I saw you two yesterday, and it looks like a problem.”

The day swirls back in my mind. Skate to her throat. My chest against her back. My fingers inside her. Heat rises to the surface of my skin, a twitch in my pants.

“I was handling business.” Leaning back, my eyes scan the quad. Students hang out on the manicured grass or the pristine stoned paths. Everywhere but the fountain. This is ours.

“Stay away, Rye,” Mac repeats. Fucker doesn’t believe me. “She’s batshit. You know this. The only thing she’ll bring to The Crowns is more drama, and we have enough. Don’t think with your dick.”

Ember approaches us, reminding me that Mac is a hypocrite. “You did last year. Worked for you.”

He laughs. “You think you andHannahwill work?”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head.” Krystal’s with Ember, the two of them walking towards us with a look of worry on Ember’s face. “I have bigger things on my mind than fucking your ex.” But even saying those last three words brings a shiver up my spine.

Disdain.

Yesterday wasn’t supposed to happen. I never thought Hannah and I would end up in the Coach’s office entangled with each other. It wasn’t planned. It was improvised. I just hope she learned her lesson.

“Gentlemen!” Gray’s voice comes from my other side, the Crown trio reunited on our campus throne. His hockey stick hangs off his shoulder, reminding me once again what Hannah took from me. “Students want to know when the next party is.”

“Or will your new girlfriend try to burn that down too?” Mac asks.

“You sure you’re not jealous?” I land the next question, plucking my cigarette out of Mac's hand. Ember and Krystal stop in front of us, their conversation coming to a halt. My eyes move between them, their bodies rigid, my sister’s shoulders high. Something's up. “Will you two tell me what’s going on, or would you rather cower around us?”

“The police are here,” Ember says. Mac stands up, but Ember puts a hand out, tempering him. “Not for me this time.”

“It’s Dad,” Krystal speaks up, and that’s the last thing I want to hear. “It’s about the fire.”

My eyes narrow. “Why would he care?” He knows about the fire, but he's too busy travelling the world and fucking stewardesses to care. So, why is he involved now?

“Why does he care about anything?” Krystal taps on her phone. “Did he not call you?” To solidify their truth, a few cops enter the quad, their eyes scanning the students around them.

“Yeah, but I do the thing any level-headed person would and not pick up.” There’s judgment in my tone, and I hope she hears it. “Did you forget how things work in The Hill? Or did you forget who our parents are? You know, the ones who shipped you away at fourteen?”

Krystal shoves the phone in my face, a voice note already playing. I can hear our father’s voice loud and clear.

“I will ruin the asshole who threatens to burn our family history! When the cops show up, they’ll deal with you all. They burned our headlines! You will not get away with your careless?—”

I hit ‘pause’ on the voice note. Family history? Headlines?

“Did he say what he’s missing?” I ask. “Or is this just the usual abuse?”

Krystal scrolls up on her phone while I rack my brain for my father’s big emergency. My mom’s office was filled with her work. Designs. Contracts.

Then it hits me as Krystal speaks again. “He’s looking for the news article from?—”

“Eighty-eight,” I finish. The one where his business went international. Something tells me he’s not as concerned about that as he is with embarrassing me again.

He’s still making me pay for whatshedid.

“Here they come,” Krystal says, the officers making their way towards us.

We all straighten up. Especially Ember, as Mac stands in front of her. Knowing my father, he likely sent the cops to put on a show. Another tactic to put us in our place. If he wants a show, I’ll give it to him.

“Mister Rowen.” The officer looks me over, aviators on his porky nose. “We’re here in regards to the fire at the Rowen Estate on Paradise Row. Is it my understanding that this was your gathering?”