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“Scott Weiland was arrested today,” Shane called down the stairs to Laney as he walked in the door, kicking off his steel-toed boots. “Just heard on the radio.” He headed straight into the rec room where it was slightly cooler than upstairs, the creaking sounds of the floor and then of the pipes indicating Dustin was opting for a cold shower.

“The Stone Temple Pilots guy?” Laney asked, putting down her book.

“I love that you have good taste in music,” Shane said, flopping himself down on the other velour couch. “If I have to hear that Everybody Yeah song one more time I’m going to pop my own eardrums.”

“The Backstreet Boys are lyrical artists,” she said. Shane snorted, and she started to mock-sing. “ I'm sexual…” She ran her hand over the front of her body, doing an exaggerated hip thrust up into the air. “ Yeeeeeah…” She continued to thrust dramatically.

Shane was laughing but looked a little flushed and she suppressed a grin. If she had to endure knowing he was seeing somebody (she scowled internally) the least she could do was make him sweat. As often as possible.

She was wearing a dangerously short denim miniskirt with a frayed hem, and a red and white Tommy Hilfiger tube top she’d found at the thrift shop. Her stomach and feet were bare. Normally she wouldn’t have risked such an outfit around Cary, but he was ‘gone on business’ and the early heat wave was making her feel reckless.

She let her hand drift back up her body, tracing her exposed collarbone lazily with her fingertips.

He was riveted, his body unconsciously leaning a little closer.

“What was he arrested for?” she asked.

“Hm?” Shane hummed, eyes locked on her fingertips.

“Scott Weiland? What was he arrested for.”

“Oh…” he reluctantly tore his gaze away from her skin and looked at her face. “Um… possession.”

“How original. A rock star arrested for drugs.”

Shane shrugged at her and dropped his head back, staring at the basement ceiling, flinging one arm over the armrest. She hated when he did that. His shirt would always ride up, his skin tan from working shirtless in Jerry’s yard all spring, sometimes exposing the now-muscular ridges in his stomach and the V of his hips... It made her want to use him as a plate , have every single one of her meals served on his body until the end of time.

“There’s something to be said for substance abuse and creative genius, I guess,” she mused, picking her book back up.

Shane rolled onto his side, his shirt riding up another inch, and he pursed his lips at her. “Harry Potter again? Haven’t you already read that like three times?”

She put her own hands above her head and stretched, arching her back and pointing her toes. She could feel his eyes slide to her exposed belly, the dangling silver charm in her bellybutton tinkling as she moved.

“The new one comes out next month,” she said. “I’m doing a refresh.”

“What’s it about?” he asked, his eyes travelling lower to her bare thighs. She fought to keep her breathing even. It was so rare that they were alone… Ma was always busting in and out like the gale force wind that she was, and Dustin treasured their hang-out time as much as Laney did, not often leaving them by themselves. And then there was Cary. Even with Ma home, he was a constant presence, a shadow in every room, lurking around every corner.

“A young boy with a really awful family finds out that he’s actually descended from wizards. He’s accepted into a school of magic, and there’s like… a whole secret world of wizards and witches living in tandem with normal society.”

“Sounds kind of lame,” Shane said.

“It’s really great, actually,” she said, picking the book up and flipping through it. “The kid is kind of a… not prophet, but like a really big deal in the magical world. A dark wizard tried to kill him as an infant and it backfired on him. He’s a celebrity in a universe he never knew existed.”

Shane was still staring at her thighs and she fought to keep herself from pressing them together.

“Will you read some of it to me?” he asked.

She blinked, completely taken aback. He ran his eyes slowly up over her body, the same path she’d trailed with her hand, his gaze getting stuck on her collar bone.

“Why?” she blurted.

A strange expression crossed over his face, like he was embarrassed. He stayed quiet for a few minutes, just looking at her, seemingly searching her face for something.

“I can’t read,” he finally said.

She sat up slowly, shocked not only at what he was saying but that he was sharing something so personal. Shane never shared, never talked about himself. Sometimes getting him to talk at all was like pulling teeth.

He grimaced a little and looked down at the floor.

“I mean… I can read. I’m not a moron. I just can’t remember what I read. The words just… vanish. I remember seeing that book, on your nightstand, the first day I was here. Harry Potter and ... something . I tried to read the back, see what kind of stories you like. But it just wouldn’t stick.” He looked back up at her. “It’s why I hated school. Dropping out was…” his face darkened but he shook it off “…a relief.”

Laney’s heart squeezed. She’d always assumed he’d gotten kicked out of school for fighting, or something. It had never occurred to her that he’d dropped out by choice, especially because he was so smart… Sometimes he helped her with her math and science homework and it was almost intimidating, how easily he understood it and how well he could explain it. He was always working it out in his head, and then backtracking to show her the steps.

“Well okay then,” she said, curling her legs under herself and propping the book open on the arm of the couch. He was looking at her intently. “But don’t like, stare at me while I read. And I’m not doing voices and shit.”

“Well it’s no good if you don’t do the voices,” he said wryly.

She stuck her tongue out at him and cleared her throat. “Chapter One: The Boy Who Lived…”

She could feel Shane smile, shifting his weight as he settled in, ignoring her request not to stare. There was a look of boyish delight on his face.

He seemed… happy.

She’d planned to dress indecently and flirt audaciously and if she was lucky, fenagle herself into his personal space for more than a fraction of a second. Make him sweat. She hadn’t planned on happy. That word was such an oxymoron, when it came to Shane. But as he watched her read, with a kind of youthful and unrestrained enthusiasm that was so unlike him, she found herself thinking that maybe making him happy was suddenly the only thing she’d ever wanted to do. She just wished that he wanted to do it back.

Fucking Cary.

Her stomach squirmed uncomfortably like it always did whenever she thought about Cary. She definitely didn’t want Shane to be like her brother. But sometimes, when she smoked a joint and let her mind wander, she found herself wishing that Shane would treat her a little more like Cary did. Like she was his.

The squirming feeling amplified as she realized she was hoping that the guy she liked, really liked, would act more like her brother .

Laney tried to tune out her brain, and her heart, but couldn’t help but wonder if maybe the reason why Shane wasn’t like that with her, wouldn’t be like that with her, was that she was just too damn messed up. Like the Dursleys of Number Four Privet Drive, who didn’t want their no-good nephew mixing with their son.