Meet Me Here - Bryan Bliss Page 0,38
hood again and says, “What the shit, Bennett!”
I lower myself out slowly, and Sinclair says, “Oh, hell. What happened to you?”
“It’s nothing,” I say.
“Shit. Did Will and his friends do this?” Wayne comes over and investigates my leg. “I swear to God I’ll kill those preppy assholes.”
“They didn’t do it,” I say. “I jumped off the River Road bridge.”
Wayne looks surprised at first, but then he starts nodding, his smile brighter than the Waffle House sign behind him. “So it’s gonna be that kind of night then. Hell, yes.”
I should tell him he’s wrong; it’s not any kind of night. But I don’t have the energy or the will to do it. I can’t lie about why I jumped in the river, and I sure as hell can’t tell him about the medals. So I let him stand there with his arms out, annoyed that he didn’t get to jump off a bridge, too.
“This makes me twice as pissed that you left me up there with old bee-in-his-ass Steve,” Wayne says. “That dude didn’t calm down until Will finally showed up. I should’ve let you kick his ass.”
“Will asked about you,” Sinclair said.
“Yeah, looking all sad and shit,” Wayne says, pantomiming a tear. “Broke my heart.”
Mallory is coming out of the restaurant, pausing to stare at her phone. I talk quickly, hoping to end this conversation before she gets back to the truck.
“Will’s fine. He’s not going to do anything. He and Mallory—” I have no idea how to catch them up or explain Mallory’s status.
“The way I hear it, she straight up knocked his dick in the dirt at Chris Jensen’s party,” Wayne says. “Are you sure you two aren’t—” He makes an obscene gesture, and I shake my head.
“What the hell was that?” Mallory says, putting her phone in her pocket. “Got something stuck down there, Wayne?”
“Wanna find out?”
“That would be a disappointment for both of us.”
Sinclair laughs, and, eventually so does Wayne.
“I asked your brother if you were still out raising hell,” Wayne says to me. “But he was no help at all.”
“Wait, you’ve seen Jake?” I ask.
“He was with Becky Patterson,” Sinclair says. “Over at the Wilco.”
“Becky Patterson,” Wayne affirms, elbowing me in the side. “Your brother’s living a charmed life, son.”
“Did they leave?” I ask, trying to see past the trees that fence the Waffle House parking lot from the interstate. I turn to Mallory. “We need to go.”
“Go?” Wayne says. “It’s graduation. The hell you have to go anywhere. Besides, Sin was just about to buy me breakfast.”
“I told you, I don’t have any money,” Sinclair says.
As they argue, I limp toward the door of the truck and am about to get in when Wayne runs up and says, “Whoa, whoa. Where you going, Bennett?”
“I don’t want to ruin your graduation,” I say, slowly getting in my seat. “But I need to find him. And I’m pretty sure Becky Patterson isn’t going to be able to handle him.”
Wayne giggles, elbowing Sinclair in the ribs a few times, until Mallory says, “Really? Are you two years old?”
“Damn, everybody’s so serious tonight,” Wayne says. “Listen, I don’t know what your brother’s packing, but—”
Mallory sighs.
“Sorry. Jesus. You don’t need to find him. I know where they’re going. They’re going to her house, son. Her house.”
Mallory shakes her head, getting in the truck. Before she starts it, Wayne and Sinclair jump into the bed, hitting the roof twice. Mallory opens the sliding rear window and says, “Idiots. Get out.”
“Like I’m going to sit here with Sinclair while you’re off doing . . . well, whatever’s got you all tangled. I ain’t missing another bridge, okay? This is our last hurrah and shit.”
Wayne hits the top of my truck and yells, “Deerfield, bitches!”
“Let them come,” I say, trying to force the frustration out of my voice as she glares into the bed of the pickup. “It will take another fifteen minutes to get them out of the truck anyway. And we know where he is now. So let’s just go.”
Wayne’s still hooting and hollering in the back, half drunk and shouting about adventures and destiny. When Mallory looks back one last time, I reach out and cautiously touch her hand.
“Or you could pull out really fast and hope they fall out,” I say, smiling.
On cue, Sinclair leans down and sticks his head through the window. “Are we going or what?”
Mallory tries to scowl, but I see the smile peek through as she says, “Hold on, moron.”
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