to where I was. Unfolding it, he took a seat.
“What’s up with you?” he asked.
“Not a whole lot,” I said, not studying him as closely as he studied me. I was too busy alternating between looking at the back door to the house while also watching the driveway.
Was Lace inside the house? Or was she out with that basketball buddy of hers?
Chad had the hots for Missy, but I knew he’d had a thing for Lace first. I’d had a discussion with him about his interest in her. One involving a threat from me should he ever cross the friends-only line with her.
“You don’t look so good,” Sager said as he clacked open the latches on his Fender case.
Refocusing on him, I watched him withdraw a small sketch pad from a felt-lined compartment in his case. “Thanks for noticing,” I grumbled.
“Drugs will mess you up. Mess up the group. Mess up everything in your life.”
“Who said I was doing drugs?” I asked.
“People talk.” Pencil in one hand, he flipped through the pages on his pad. “Heard you hit the shit pretty hard this weekend.”
“I might have,” I said noncommittally.
There were lots of portraits in his book—a dignified old lady with her hair in a bun, King, and Lace. Sager stopped on an unfinished one of me.
“Go back,” I demanded.
“Huh?” He gave me a blank look.
“I wanna see the picture you drew of Lace.”
“It’s not finished.” He flipped back, and when I reached for his pad, he let me have it.
“Looks finished to me,” I whispered. “Beautifully finished.” He’d captured her expressive eyes perfectly and her wide kissable lips. I hovered my thumb over the regal sweep of her high cheekbones.
“You can have that one, if you want. I have more.”
“Nah.” I swallowed to moisten my dry throat. I didn’t need to torture myself. I handed him the sketch pad back. “Who’s the older lady with the bun?”
“King’s abuelita.” Grandmother.
“Thought so.” I nodded reflectively. “King talks about her a lot. So do you.”
“She’s really cool. Been through a lot. Wise.” Sager eyed me for a long beat. “What’re you gonna do?”
“About what?” I returned a question for a question, and he gave me a funny look.
“About Lace?”
I frowned. “I’m done with her.”
“If you say so.” He shrugged. “But if you want some advice—”
“I don’t.”
“But if you did.” He gave me a pointed look. “Abuelita always says, ‘El amor es como el agua que no se seca.’”
Sager’s Spanish was flawless. He lived with the Acenados. They’d taken him in after some really fucked-up shit went down with his drug-dealing brother. But as perfectly spoken as his Spanish had been, I still couldn’t figure out what he said.
“What the fuck does that mean?” I asked.
“Love is like water that never evaporates.”
“Even in English that doesn’t make fucking sense.”
“True love lasts forever.”
“True love is bullshit,” I said flippantly.
But what if I was wrong?
“It’s rare,” Sager said, sketching on his pad. “I agree. But some people find it. King’s parents have. It’s not impossible.”
Did I love Lace? I had no fucking clue.
She drove me batshit crazy, and I thought about her all the time. Jacked off to her too many times to mention. I’d changed and rearranged my whole life to include her. She made my empty life seem full, and without her, it reverted to empty.
Laughter—her laughter—drifted to my ears, and my heart started pounding. My eyes burned. I leaned forward, straining to see her.
When she appeared, it was like she was surrounded by light. Her golden hair framed her pretty face, and she was wearing her schoolgirl garb. But Lace wasn’t alone. It wasn’t the basketball dude at her side. It was Bryan.
My hands curled into my palms. The light extinguished in a sudden downpour of red. I’m going to kill him.
“No hay peor sordo que el que no quiere oír,” Sager said softly.
“What the hell?” I asked.
“There isn’t a worse deaf person than the one who doesn’t want to hear. There is none so blind as he who will not see. You’re in love with Lace, War.”
“Maybe.”
“Whatever you want to believe, man. Get her back or get over her. The choice is up to you. But if you intend to get her back, I wouldn’t wait too long.”
Lace
Life was better with Bryan and me as friends. I was free to do as I liked, but not quite, since War was never far from my mind or far away. Every weekday, I saw him at school and at the house in the evening