Page 10 of Rowdy Boy

“Yeah, I’m sure I can make that happen. But why areyouthe one asking me?”

Rhett doesn’t respond right away, instead biting down on the inside of his cheek and working his jaw back and forth as he assesses me.

“It’s… it’s a tense subject. And honestly, I don’t want her to know I asked. I’m hoping she’ll think this was your idea.”

I elbow him in the side to get him to loosen up. “You just don’t want her riding the bus with Colin McKew without you there, huh?”

He doesn’t respond to my ribbing, but his scowl tells me he doesn’t appreciate my attempt at a joke. “If I tell you something, do you promise not to tell her you know?”

I nod and keep stacking dishes.

“Her dad’s in a bad slump right now. Like, really bad. Some days he doesn’t get up for work on time or at all. She’s worried that once school starts, she won’t be there to get him out the door. If she knew I told you this, she’d be so pissed… but he’s missed so much work lately that he’s at serious risk of losing his job. She had to use almost all her savings to make their house payment last month. It’s why she can’t afford a car yet.”

I let his words marinate in my mind. Tori’s dad is a decent guy—a really good guy, in fact. He helped Rhett fix up his Prelude and looked at the Jeep for me a few times when I wasn’t sure why the check engine light was on. He’s always been kind to us; always been good to Tori. He’s the antithesis of Joe Whitely.

And yet… Tori has to deal with the blow back of shitty parental choices, too. I had no idea her dad was in such a bad way. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s not hard to hide that kind of pain.

We’re both motherless, but our scenarios are completely different. Her mom died from cancer when we were in middle school. Mine died when I was three, right after she gave birth to Joey. I never had a mother to remember: the only memories of her love come from photographs and things my Grandma Patty tells me.

“Anyway,” Rhett calls my attention back to the matter at hand. “The bus goes through our neighborhood first, since we’re on the opposite end of town from the high school. If she doesn’t have to get up so damn early to catch the bus, she can stay home long enough to make sure her dad gets out the door.”

I don’t even need time to think about it. “Got it. I can do that.”

“You have to bring it up to her.” He levels me with a stare that tells me this has been a problem for him for a while. Of course it has. My best friend wants to take care of everyone around him, always. Luckily, I bring plenty of drama and Tori has her own issues. He’s lucky to have us, really. We keep him busy.

“Understood. We’ll hang out this week, and I’ll proposition your girl for you.”

“Bro.”

I bite down on my bottom lip to hold back my laugh. No one can make a casual nickname sound like a scolding quite like Rhett.

“I’m just playing with you. I’ve got this,” I assure him.

He throws down the towel and turns to face me, crossing his arms over his chest and leveling me with his steely gaze.

“I’m counting on you. I don’t know all the details about what happened this morning… and I don’t need to know if you don’t want to talk… but you can’t pull shit like this once school starts. Especially if I’m trusting you with Tori.”

There’s the rub. And I don’t even resent the call out. He’s right. I have to get my shit together. My GPA is already shaky because of the way my credits rolled over when I transferred from Archway Prep to Hampton High last year. I don’t have lofty dreams of going to a prestigious college, but I’d like to take some classes part time and get a business degree from Holt or Akron. All I really care about is graduating and moving out of Joe’s house.

My mom’s family is well off—not stupid rich like the Whitelys, but they do well for themselves—so I get a nice chunk of change as soon as I graduate from high school. My dad loves to grumble about the lunacy of my mom leaving each of her sons separate trusts, yet he claims he’s set up his will the same way, whatever that means.

Sometimes I wonder if my mom knew we’d need a fail-safe. I don’t know much about their relationship—how they met, if they were in love—because Grandma Patty despises Joe and refuses to talk about him unless it’s absolutely necessary. But I’m grateful she left me the financial means to move out the second I earn my diploma.

“I hear you,” I solemnly confirm. And I mean it. I can’t promise him I won’t fuck this up at some point, but I understand the seriousness of what he’s asking—both with the rides for Tori and the insistence I get my shit together—and I’ll fight like hell to see it through.

That’s the thing Joe hates the most. No matter how hard he beats me down, no matter how much I falter and stumble, no matter how low I go when he tries to crush me, I refuse to break. I won’t crumble. I’ve fought too long and too hard, and I’m way too fucking close to my freedom to give up now.

I’ll get my shit together, all right. The only way I can beat him at this game is to thrive.

I flop onto my bed and relish the way the wind knocks out of my lungs on impact. What a fucking day. I got through that shift, but just barely. I owe Rhett and Tori big time.

Clinton’s closes early on Sundays. One or both of them must have sensed that Joe’s house was the last place I wanted to be tonight, so they insisted we all hang out. We didn’t go anywhere—just grabbed two huge takeout containers of tots and fries, then sat on the top of the parking garage and watched the sunset with our legs dangling off the ledge.

Tori danced around the empty parking lot catching lightning bugs, then insisted I hold them for her. Now my hands have that pungent smell that would be gross as hell if it didn’t remind me of her bright smile and Rhett’s laughter.

Once dusk settled in (and Rhett was sure I was finally sober), they dropped me off near the storage units to get my Jeep. Neither of them questioned me about last night, but the look Rhett gave me when I got out of the car told me I would eventually need to answer for some of the questionable choices I’d made over the last twenty-four hours.

Now that I’m finally home and near my phone, I’m out of excuses.