Page 5

Crew

A fter the lady at the leasing office pretty much told us we were doomed, Lane and I took it upon ourselves to go to my dad’s house with the hope that he could find a loophole in our lease since he was a contract lawyer.

Lane pulled the lease up on his phone and read through it on the way. “I can’t believe none of us read this.”

“I read some of it.”

His eyes narrowed, calling my bluff. “No, you didn’t.”

I bobbed my head. “Alright,” I admitted. “I didn’t.”

He rolled his eyes. “Shocker.”

“My dad better find us a way out of this.”

“I’m sure he will,” Lane said casually.

I shot him a look of annoyance as I pulled into my dad’s driveway. “How are you so chill right now?”

He shrugged, undoing his seatbelt. “I don’t know.”

“I don’t get why you’re not freaking out. You do realize that if we end up having to live with those two, Kota will probably cut off our balls while we’re asleep and feed them to her pet snakes.”

“Nobody said anything about pet snakes.”

“Wouldn’t put it past her,” I mumbled, hopping out of my jeep. “She’s a snake herself.”

Lane and I walked inside, and I came to a sudden halt as my younger brother zipped past me, full of energy. I sighed under my breath.

Nate was in the sixth grade, and according to everyone, he was my younger twin. With the same curly brown hair and similar facial features, I couldn’t deny the resemblance between us. However, it was weird having someone look so much like you when you weren’t close with them at all.

“Dad?” I called out.

No answer.

As my brother ran past us again, I grabbed the back of his shirt, pulling him backwards. “Where’s dad?”

“I dunno,” Nate fumed, fighting my grip on his shirt. “Probably on the back patio.”

I finally let him go, making my way out back with Lane on my heels.

There my dad was, sitting casually on the back porch, soaking in the sun beside my stepmom, Georgia.

It was absolutely beautiful outside, which was ironic considering this was such a horrible, dreary day to me.

Between the large stone patio and the in-ground pool, the backyard was always my favorite part of my dad’s house. For the last few years since I started attending Cedar U, I had a pool party each summer, and the whole team would come over. It was the perfect spot since my dad’s house was only twenty minutes from campus.

“Nick!” Georgia exclaimed. “What a pleasant surprise.”

“Hey,” I acknowledged her.

“Hi, Lane,” she smirked.

“Hi, Mrs. Crew,” Lane said.

I had this weird, messed up theory that she had a thing for Lane. She had always been a friendly woman, but she was extra friendly and smiley whenever Lane was around. It wasn’t a longshot of a theory either considering she was only in her early thirties. My father was nearly a decade older than her, and she was a little more than a decade older than Lane and me.

Lane thought I was crazy though.

With her caramel-colored hair that always rested in perfect waves and her fragile features, Georgia was very pretty. So much so, that some of the guys made comments about her when she wasn’t around. I gagged every time. Real mom or not, it was still gross.

My dad was in his late forties, but he looked much younger than his age. It was only a few years ago that his gray hair started coming in. Some people had said before that he looked like Patrick Dempsey, which always made me roll my eyes because I personally didn’t see a strong resemblance. On the other hand, my dad embraced the hell out of it; I guess I couldn’t really blame him though. If I’d been compared to Patrick Dempsey, my ego would be knocked up a few notches too.

“Hey, son,” my dad said before his brows suddenly came in. “Aren’t you guys supposed to be moving into your new apartment right now?”

“Yeah... about that...” I said, scratching the back of my neck. I didn’t want to be the one to break the news. Nervously, I licked my lips. “Lane?”

His head was lolled towards me as he eyed me with hostility. “Really?”

“Fine,” I sighed, turning towards my dad. “We need your help.”

“What’s wrong?”

I looked at Lane again and he shook his head at me, denying my silent plea for him to be the one to explain.

“Apparently there was some change to our lease and now we’re supposedly stuck living with two girls.”

My dad’s brows lifted as Georgia’s mouth fell open.

“Oh yeah,” I added, “and the girls hate us. Like a lot.”

My dad blinked in confusion. “How the hell did that happen?”

“Well, Lane spilled his drink on one and then—”

“Not that,” Lane finally spoke. “He probably means what the hell happened with our lease.”

“Precisely,” my dad said.

“Oh, Lane,” Georgia said, sounding heartbroken, “you spilled your drink on a girl?”

Wincing, he replied, “It was an accident.”

Her voice came out smooth. “I’m sure,” she said, her eye wiggling.

I did a double take. Did her eye twitch or did she just wink at Lane?

“Nicholas,” my father pushed.

I hated that he still called me that.

I started going by Crew during my freshman year of high school. My coach at the time, Coach Riddleman, didn’t care a single bit about our first names. He referred to everyone as their last name only. To him, our first names seemingly didn’t exist. So, after being called Crew for the entire year, it stuck, and I started introducing myself as Crew to everyone I met from that point on.

To this day, only my parents and Coach Palmer called me Nicholas. I think Coach Palmer only called me Nicholas though because he knew it pissed me off. Freshman year, I tried correcting him once, and he told me to shut my smartass up before making me do extra drills after everyone else got off the ice. After that day, whenever he called me Nicholas, which was always, I just rolled with it.

My father’s harsh glare forced me out of my thoughts. Goddamn, was I the only one that noticed that weird interaction from Georgia?

I sighed, shaking it off. “The lady at the leasing office said they sent out an email back in February explaining that they messed up the amount of two-bedrooms they had available and that they changed our lease to a four-bedroom. But none of us got the email.”

“Well, did you read through the lease before signing it?”

I exhaled deeply out my nose, rocking back and forth on my heels. The freaking office lady asked us this same question and it made me feel even dumber hearing it the second time around.

“I’ll take that as a no,” Dad said, not sounding surprised. But then he shook his head with a small sigh. “Nicholas, I hate to say it, but this is kind of your fault then. You’re twenty-two. You’re an adult. And I’d like to think I’ve taught you better than to sign contracts without reading through them first. This was a dumb move.”

I let out a huff as my dad turned towards Lane.

“And what about you, Lane? Did you read the lease?”

Now Lane seemed uneasy being the one in the hotseat. “I...” he trailed off.

“Lane,” my dad groaned. “How could you stoop down to Nick’s level? You’re supposed to be the responsible one!”

“Hey,” I interrupted. “What’s wrong with my level?”

“A lot of things,” my dad replied before looking back to Lane. “You’re the smart one. C’mon, now.”

Sighing, Lane stood with his head down. “I know.”

Immediately, Georgia scolded my father. “Oh, honey. Leave Lane alone.”

My dad and I both rolled our eyes, but for very different reasons.

“Well, do you have a copy of the lease with you?” he asked.

“I do on my phone,” I answered.

“Let me see it.”

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and brought the lease up.

He began reading through it but was interrupted when my phone buzzed in his hand from a text. His brows came in. “Who’s Marla?”

“I dunno,” I shrugged. “Some chick.”

Dad let out a scoff, shaking his head as he began reading again.

Like he was one to talk.

He was the reason I didn’t do relationships. Well, correction— both him and my mom were the reason I didn’t do relationships.

I was only ten when their marriage fell apart. Dad was cheating on Mom and Mom was cheating on Dad. Yet they were somehow pissed at each other even though they were both having affairs at the same time.

Yeah. Riddle me that.

After a very messy and bitter divorce, they both ended up getting remarried within the same year and both had another kid shortly after. Just like that, I went from being an only child to having two new siblings.

I didn’t get much attention after that from either of my parents, considering I was entering my teen years and my siblings were both toddlers.

It created a lot of distance between my parents and me, and all the separation did was give me the space to think about how unpredictable relationships were, which was why I steered clear from them.

My dad suddenly winced.

“What is it?” Lane asked.

“Doesn’t look like there’s much you guys can do,” he said, handing the phone back.

“What!” I panicked. “I thought you’d be able to find us a way out of this!”

“Your only way out is if you had a solid, legal reason.”

“Such as?” I asked.

He exhaled, thinking. “Some examples would be if your landlord violates the lease or the apartment is unsafe or you’re the victim of domestic violence, etcetera.”

“So theoretically,” I tipped my head, “let’s say one of the girls cuts off our balls in the middle of the night and—”

“Crew,” Lane chided.

“What?” I shot back. “It’s a very big possibility.”

“God, you’re so dramatic,” he huffed, shaking his head.

With a seemingly careless shrug, my dad said, “Sorry, boys. Let this be a good life lesson to read your damn contracts from now on.”

Lane sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Alright, well I guess let’s head back.”

“You know, it’s not too late for us to leave the country.”

“Lane’s right,” my dad announced. “You are dramatic.”

“Whatever,” I mumbled. “Let’s go.”

“Bye boys!” Georgia called with a smile as we walked out, her eyes on Lane. “Good luck!”

I stayed silent as we got into the car. Not that it was Lane’s fault, but this wouldn’t have happened if we’d just renewed our lease at the hockey house. I wasn’t mad at Lane for the unfortunate series of events that had just occurred, but I was a bit irritated that he wasn’t bothered by it at all.

Pretty much what I was gathering was that he was more affected from spilling his drink on a girl than he was by us being forced to live with her and her demon friend.

As I started driving, he pulled a classic Lane and hit me with the same line I’d heard from him dozens of times before.

“Everything’s gonna be fine.”

“This is a fucking disaster,” I replied.

“I’m sure it won’t be that bad.”

“Yes, it will. This is a fucking disaster.” I bit my bottom lip so hard that I was surprised it didn’t start spurring blood. “I’m locking my door at night.”

“So dramatic,” he repeated, looking out his window.

“No, I’m not,” I said surely. “This is a fucking disaster.”

***

After nice guy Lane made me help him bring some of the girl’s stuff into the apartment, I wanted nothing more than to just sit the fuck down.

Preferably, I’d go take a nap or something, but now was the time for us to have our “group discussion.” And to be honest, even if we weren’t having this talk right now, I’d probably go to the hockey house to nap instead of my own damn bed. Being around the girls, particularly Kota, for this long was disrupting my sanity.

I was pretty sure the only girls I’d been around consciously for longer than a few hours at a time were my mom and little sister.

I gave a small sigh as I stepped into the living room, and when I saw Kota and Bridget sitting on the only couch in the room, I gave another.

“We should get another couch,” I muttered, grabbing a stool and spinning it around, resting my arms on the backrest as I sat.

“You could just sit on here with us, you know,” Kota said. “We don’t have cooties.”

“Debatable.” Not to mention that the only way I’d fit on that couch was if I was smushed between them.

As Bridget spoke, I could tell she was trying her best to be assertive. You didn’t need to study her hard to know she was fairly shy and reserved. It seemed like her feisty side only came out on rare occasions. Like when she had beer poured all over her. I held back a snicker at the thought. Poor Lane.

“Look, if we’re stuck living together, then all we can do is try to get along and lay down some basic ground rules,” Bridget said.

“Such as?” Lane asked.

Kota and Bridget traded a glance before she spoke again, using her fingers to list things off. “Stay out of each other’s way. Clean up after yourself. Don’t eat each other’s food.”

Lane nodded, “Fair enough.”

I took it upon myself to add the obvious. “No hooking up with each other.”

Kota scoffed as if the idea of touching Lane or me was disgusting. “Yeah, as if that would happen anyway.”

“You two are gonna have to try to get along,” Lane said sharply.

Pointing at Kota, I whined, “She always starts it.”

Defensively, she leaned forward. “Do not!”

Bridget waved her hands through the air in annoyance, her voice a rippling groan. “Geez, I feel like we’re your fucking parents. Both of you, shut up!”

I snapped my mouth shut, certainly feeling like a child from the tone of her voice. I gave Kota another scowl when she wasn’t looking before hastily standing. “Alright, fine. We’ll try to get along. Are we done now?”

Bridget gave a small shrug, seemingly returning to her shy side. “I guess so.”

“Cool,” I grumbled, pushing the chair back to the kitchen island. I gave Lane a desperate look. “I’m going to the house for a while.”

I didn’t bother asking if he was coming before I left.