He frowns at me, but there’s a sadness in his eyes. A heaviness to them, and I can’t remember if it was always there, or if it’s a recent development. “I’m fine.”
That’s what he said that night, too.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“I know.”
“But I don’t like keeping this secret,” I admit.
“Don’t worry about me, Shayne. I’m a big boy.”
I shake my head, frustrated. “You’re putting me in a shitty situation.” I try a different approach.
“Yeah, well, no one asked you to stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.”
I frown and he rolls his eyes. “I have it handled.”
I nod, walking away, knowing we’re at an impasse.
“Shayne,” he calls out.
“Yeah?”
“I’m glad you’re okay,” he says, his tone uncharacteristically sincere.
“Back at you.”
Class after boring class, I try to do what Thayer said. I try paying attention to my surroundings, but I don’t notice anything different from any other day. Taylor still gets her jabs in when she can, and if anything, with Holden and Christian flanking me, I draw even more attention than normal. This is exactly what I wasn’t looking forward to. The icing on the cake is when Thayer’s waiting for us in the parking lot, standing in front of his car after school. “That’s definitely going to feed the rumor mill.”
“See you at home.” Holden laughs, nodding his chin to acknowledge Thayer before he heads toward his Rover.
Home.
Those stupid butterflies are back at the sight of Thayer standing there in black jeans and black shirt, his lightning tattoo on full display, hands stuffed into his front pockets. I walk over to him, holding my binder to my chest. “I could’ve caught a ride with Holden.”
“You could’ve,” he agrees, opening the door for me.
“People are going to talk.”
He shrugs. “Let them.”
Shayne
That’s pretty much how things go for the next week. Holden takes me to school and Thayer picks me up most days. They come to my games and even tried to go to my practices until Coach made them wait outside on account of distracting my teammates. Thayer had someone out to fix the window and it was like new after two days. Surprisingly, the only loss was my grandmother’s expensive rug, which we tossed, and a burn mark on the hardwood. I’ll worry about how to explain that to my mom later.
Every night we hang out together, sometimes with Christian, sometimes it’s just the three of us. Thayer brings me into his room after everyone goes to sleep, and every morning, I slip out of his bed, thoroughly fucked, before Holden and Christian wake up to get ready. We don’t talk about my brother. We don’t talk about Danny. We don’t even talk about who has it out for me after the first couple of days. It’s become our new normal, and I’m starting to dread going home in a few days.
The bell rings, announcing the end of the day, pulling me from my thoughts. I stand, gathering my things, and when I walk out into the hall, I’m surprised to find that Holden’s not magically there, waiting for me. Good. Maybe he’s finally realizing I don’t need security detail at school, of all places. I make my way through the crowded hallway, heading to get my jacket out of my locker. It’s Friday, so I don’t want to leave it over the weekend.
People start to whisper and laugh, all eyes on me. Dread unfurls inside me. What now? I roll my eyes, pushing past them, but I stop short once I see why they’re reacting.
Brother Fucker is spray-painted in bold black letters across my locker. Instinctively, I search out Taylor. She might not have thrown a firebomb through my window, but this…this is her brand. And when I see her smug face, I know I’m right.
“Defacing a locker with spray paint and slut shaming? Lacks creativity and originality, but it is a classic mean girl move. I give it a solid C.”
“If the shoe fits,” she preens.
Anger boils in my gut, and I feel myself reaching my breaking point. There’s only so much a person can take before they finally snap. I crowd her space, backing her up toward the row of lockers on the opposite side of the hall.
“You’re pathetic.”
“Me?” she shrieks, her eyebrows hitting her hairline. “You’re the one who’s obsessed with your stepbrother. Seriously, Shayne. It’s creepy.”
Heat crawls up my neck and to the tips of my ears. I drop my backpack