Rich Prick – Tijan Page 0,99

mom told me that recently,” he added. “I thought it was an affair, but it wasn’t. Not really. My mom and dad were going to get a divorce. I’m guessing they’d been struggling for a while. She told him she was pregnant before your mom did. That’s why he and my mom tried again.”

Shit.

This sucked.

My insides felt scraped, like an ATV had been joyriding over me.

“Did you talk to your mom?” he asked. “Find out why she lied to you?”

Yeah. Right. Like I was going to tell him how that conversation went? “You first.”

His face clouded instantly. “Why are you like this? I’m trying. I’ve been trying—”

“I tried first. Remember that?”

He stilled. “Yeah.”

And I had tried. When this first came out, I’d approached him twice. He wasn’t receptive either time, and since then, well, forget him. That’d been my motto, and that was around the same time my anger had started to bubble up. I’d been pissed, then angry, then livid, and I’d been running on furious ever since. I was trying to get back to the pissed level, but it took work. A lot of work.

“I’m sorry I was an asshole to you first,” he said, still not looking at me. “Can we, just…I don’t know. This is hurting Taz, and I didn’t get it until last night. It made her night that you talked to her for a while. Seeing that, I started thinking differently.”

I wanted to gut myself. With a plastic knife.

But…

“You were nice to Aspen last night,” I told him. “Thank you for that.”

He let out an abrupt laugh, shaking his head. “I bet that killed you to say.” He pulled his helmet off, and he was grinning. “It wasn’t hard. She’s a nice girl. Got no clue how the fuck you ended up with her, but it is what it is.”

I knew that. At this point, I was certain everyone knew that. I didn’t need him to say it. But whatever.

This felt weird. Uncomfortable.

I was sitting here, on top of a cliff, having a talk with my brother.

I still hated him. Except I didn’t, actually. Not really.

I rolled my eyes. “Lay off your dad.”

He turned to me. “How’s that your place to say?”

I looked right at him. “Because he beat the shit out of the guy who used to lock me in closets. He’s there for my mom. You have a good dad. Don’t take that for granted.”

We stared at each other, neither backing off. Eventually he sat back, and his shoulders dropped. “I’m supposed to go easy on my dad because he didn’t beat my ass? You kidding me?”

I shrugged. “He was unhappy. You do shitty things when you’re miserable, but trust me, you got the better dad.”

“Whatever,” he snapped, looking back out at the beach. “I’m sorry for your shit, what you—never mind.”

I felt a kick at his words. We both knew what he meant, and yeah.

That was enough said on the topic.

Some other ATVs were starting to come our way.

None of them seemed to know what they were doing—driving around, jerking and awkward. Someone was going to spill.

Cross shook his head. “I saw you before. There’s a ridge down there, and I knew it was you. You’re good at this stuff.”

I didn’t answer, but he wasn’t waiting for a response. “Someone’s going to flip their ride and get impaled.” He laughed. “We’ll have to take ’em to the hospital.”

I grunted. Probably. Everyone liked to show off until they were in the back of an ambulance. And I was betting it’d be one from my group.

“I heard you’re going to Cain,” he said after a moment.

I frowned. “Who’d you hear that from?”

“Are you?”

I nodded. “I’m going to be on their soccer team.”

He cocked his head. “You play soccer?”

Another nod. “I rock at soccer.”

He didn’t reply, his face an impartial wall, but I was learning to read my brother. He was surprised, and a little impressed, if I was getting him right.

“Listen,” he said. “I don’t know if I’ll talk to you again all summer. But we’re doing a party at the end of August. The four of us are renting a house. We’re doing a preview party for that project Aspen’s parents are working on. You’re invited.”

“You’re asking now to get Taz off your back, aren’t you?”

He jerked up a shoulder, shoving his helmet back on. “Maybe.”

I laughed. He was. And I knew I wouldn’t see him the rest of the summer. He’d live his life with his friends. I’d do mine with