the car accelerated away from him, his blood burning in his veins.
Clive was taking Amber to the nightclub.
A second later Buff was at his side. “That was Breezie, wasn’t it?” he said, smacking his palm with his fist. “I can smell his stink.”
“Tonight,” was all Aaron managed to say, his stomach turning queasy at the thought of Clive forcing himself on her, “we’re going to the pier. We have to stop a girl from ruining her life.”
***
Amber picked up after the first ring.
“Hey,” she said, as if Aaron calling her was totally normal.
“Amber, could you promise me something?”
She was silent while Aaron continued to fiddle with his car door in his driveway, trying to get it to latch.
“Probably not,” she said finally.
“Promise me you won’t go out with Clive tonight.”
“Let me guess, you’d rather I go out with you?” she said.
“Sure, whatever. I’ll take to a movie or something.”
“I didn’t say I would go out with you.”
“Look—” Aaron held the phone against his ear with his shoulder, “you might end up in a situation tonight where you could get hurt.”
“Then protect me,” she said.
“Amber, just promise me.”
“No.” And she hung up.
***
Calling her was a mistake, Aaron decided that night, as he scanned the swaying mass of halves grinding against each other inside the Pelican nightclub, their sweat glittering under green lasers and disco balls, because even if Amber hadn’t been planning on it, now she would probably come here just to spite him.
But what worried him even more was the way he’d risen to Clive’s taunts after school—how protective he’d felt toward her—when the odds seemed increasingly slim that they were halves. In fact, he wasn’t sure he even wanted Amber as his half; she’d be a nightmare.
Yet here he was at the Pelican because she meant more to him than he cared to admit, and if Clive date raped her in a filthy nightclub eight days before her birthday, if he scarred her like that, the loss she and her half would suffer for the rest of their lives was unthinkable. Aaron couldn’t let that happen.
He spotted Dominic dancing with Tina Marcello against the far glass walls. Clive would be near them. “Over there,” said Aaron.
Next to him, Buff pulled on his red and white rugby hoodie.
“Seriously?” said Aaron.
“I didn’t come here to dance, Buddy. Breezie needs to know what hit him.”
“Whatever. Just hold him off while I take care of Selavio.” Aaron straightened his leather jacket and plunged into the crowd. He focused on the rainbows cascading down Dominic’s back to stay oriented as he squeezed around pairs of bodies. In the sweaty fog, someone knocked him in the jaw—and he froze.
He had walked right into Clive, and the guy still hadn’t noticed him. It was too perfect.
Aaron reached for his shoulder, his heart thumping, and yelled, “Surprise!”
But right then a gap opened and he saw exactly what he dreaded most. She was rubbing up against Clive’s torso in a club dress with tiger stripes, lips shining with lip gloss, her arms draped seductively around his neck like they were already halves—Amber Lilian.
Clive whipped around to face him.
***
Aaron had three inches on Clive. It should have been an easy fight. A few punches. He could have broken Clive’s nose, knocked him out cold.
Instead he just stood there, stunned by the sight of Amber, as Clive attacked.
Aaron had been struck off guard before, knocked to the ground even. He had taken blows from other seventeen-year-olds, kicks, punches in his jaw. They didn’t faze him.
This was different.
The strobe light split Clive’s movement into frames. His fist burned in the white flash, a blur, before it smashed into Aaron’s jaw.
Pain rattled his teeth. Aaron toppled backward, dizzy, and hit the floor. Clive knelt over him and coiled his arm back again, ready to strike with his full weight. Aaron rolled, crawled through someone’s legs and jumped up. His ears still rang from the blow.
People scattered, shouted. Aaron tackled Clive in the stomach, pinned his neck. Clive squirmed out of his grip, a sour musk rising from his armpits.
Somebody’s hands closed on Aaron’s shoulders, dragged him backward.
“She’s not your half!” Aaron yelled, but it was pointless. More bodies crowded around him, grabbed and shoved him, their ugly faces hardly human. He flung off their hands, only to suffocate in their hungry perfume. Everything was in black and white. An entire club filled with shadows, halves of people herding him backward.
Aaron never took his eyes off Amber. She was the only thing real.