Page 4

Cody

A car door slammed, sending my heart into my throat. A second one followed, and I knew my days of peace were numbered. I crept to my window and saw Hank and Rafael approaching the house. Fuck me.

Rafael had a backwards Yankees cap, a black tank, and oversized jeans. Even from the second story, I could make out the scowl on his face. My transfixed gaze followed each step he took.

I hated seeing him again. I scoffed at his black clothes and stupid-ass swagger. He was trying so hard to look like a bad boy . That shit pissed me off. He lived in a mansion for Christ’s sake! He wasn’t a badass. I was a badass.

Mom and I lived in some of the worst neighborhoods with the worst schools for years. Did anyone ever beat his ass and take his backpack with everything in it on the first day of second grade? Did he ever cry because he couldn’t afford the equipment to play the sport he loved? Did he ask for seconds at birthday parties only to shove the food in his bag for later because the refrigerator at home was empty? No. Because he was a spoiled fucking asshole.

He looked up, and our eyes locked. I froze where I stood, the bottom dropping out of my stomach. He looked over at Hank and then at the house. His scowl turned to a menacing grin as he shot a middle finger up at me. Still a fucker.

All it took was that small gesture, and my cheeks burned with rage. Rafael had ignited a fire within me the day he ruined my mother’s wedding, a fire I had spent years trying to suppress. I feared living in the same house as him would rekindle my fury, and I didn’t know what I might be capable of if that happened.

I backed away from the window and sat at my desk to continue reading Lies in the Stardust by Brennan Henderson, my favorite fantasy writer. I wanted just three more seconds of tranquility before hurricane Rafael blew into my life and ripped my sanity to shreds.

No such luck. Mom walked in moments later. “Come downstairs, and welcome Rafael.”

I looked at her and raised a brow. “I have to welcome him?” Mom sighed and gave me a look. I aggressively slammed my book shut and rose to my feet. “Fine.”

She led the way downstairs, and we reached the first floor just as Hank and Rafael entered the house. Hank carried two suitcases. Rafael carried nothing. Naturally.

Mom shuffled over to kiss Hank on the cheek. “How was the drive?” she asked.

Hank smiled while he set the suitcases down and said, “Uneventful.”

Rafael’s jaw clenched, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed. I imagined it wasn’t uneventful for him. Rafael just moved from Greenwich, Connecticut, to New Rochelle, New York, leaving his whole life behind him, and he would spend his senior year at an entirely new school. Hank always meant well, but he had the sensitivity of a cactus sometimes.

Why the fuck do I care? Screw Rafael!

Awkwardness descended upon the group. Rafael, with his brooding…everything, looked completely out of place in our periwinkle living room with a paisley carpet underfoot. With his rough appearance, tattered jeans, and dark circles under his eyes, he looked more likely to rob us than live with us.

Mom continued her crusade to project cheerfulness. “Cody, why don’t you take Rafael’s bags to his room while I get everyone a drink?”

“No.” Rafael snatched the bags off the floor. “I’ll take my stuff up. I need to lie down for a minute.” He blew past Mom and Hank and made his way to the stairs. I moved to the side to give him space, and he shot me a look that said Don’t put it past me to cut your throat in your sleep. With that, he went upstairs to his room.

I looked at Mom and Hank and deadpanned, “Well, he seemed jolly.”