Reckless: A Bad Boy Sport Romance (36 page)

But the evidence of the rims didn't put me at ease in the slightest. Apart from his obsession with his
GameCube
, everyone at school knew Darren Winters was a junkie. He would smoke, snort, huff, and inject himself with anything he could get his hands on. Rumor has it that his problem started when he was 11, when he got hooked to huffing aerosol products and paint cans in his garage.

Without thinking, I grabbed Ethan's wrists and yanked up the sleeves of his hoodie. I pulled his arms towards me, my eyes scouring every inch of his tatted arms. When I failed to spot any fresh needle marks or bruising, my eyes welled up with tears. Ethan pulled his arms away from me slowly, rolling his sleeves back down.

“Jesus, Daize.” Ethan's voice was gentle. “Mom and Dad already don't trust me – are you gonna start doing me like that, too? I told you guys I'm clean –”

“Yeah, now,” I replied coldly as I blinked back the waterworks. “Says the guy who got kicked out of high school his sophomore year to serve three years for trafficking and distribution. And you're faulting Mom and Dad for having trust issues with you?”

“I didn't mean it like that. Look, Daize. Even if I was still slangin' on the side, you know I've only ever sold it to men that were much older than I was. I would never sell to minors and fuck up some kid's life. You know me better than that.”

“Yeah, but you were sure fine with fucking up your own.”

“Yo, Daize, that's low –”

The rest of Ethan's words were interrupted by the ringing of his cellphone. He flipped his phone open, staring hard at the number on the screen. The second he looked up at me, he was saved by the bell.

“Sorry, Daize. I gotta take this –”

“Whatever. I gotta get to class anyway. Bye.”

“Alright. Daize? Congrats again on getting into
Northwestern.
I really am proud of you.”

“Yup,” was all I said to my brother before hurrying off to class.

Chapter Five: Miles

“Damn it, Miles. Will you turn that thing down? I've been rereading the same paragraph for over ten minutes now and I'm not absorbing anything, like, at all, thanks to you.”

Allison was sprawled out on my bed with her study guide in front of her and her lacy socks swinging in the air.

“Yes, Ma'am.” My eyes were still glued to the game on my desktop, but I reached for my speakers to turn down the volume.

“I'd give anything to stand in your shoes and experience the utter absence of fucks in your world. You're not planning on doing another one of your all-nighter cram sessions, are you? How are you not more concerned about the midterms?”

“Because I always wing it and average about 80 every time,” I replied smoothly in between clicks of my mouse.

“That's the kind of nonsense arrogance that's gonna get your butt in trouble one of these days,” said Allison bitterly, selecting a passage with her highlighter. “Where is Big Rob, anyway? Wait, don't tell me – late as usual –”

“
Yo. I'm right here,”
came Big Rob's faint voice from the computer speakers.

“Yeah, he's been here the whole time,” I informed Allison, dragging another hut into empty patch of land with my mouse.

“Unbelievable. Have you been there this whole time? Thought you bailed out on our study group 'cause you had a thing you couldn't get out of. Was this the 'thing'?!”

“
Oh. You were serious about that? My bad. Well, yeah – in my defense, Miles and I made plans to play Age of Empires III together on its release date months ago. We're already a day late – it came out yesterday.
”

“Yeah, Al. Cut him some slack. We're just honoring our plans. It's called 'common courtesy'.”

“Whatever. You guys are fools, and I'm wiping my hands clean of you. I'll have you know there are people out there who actually appreciate my study guides and actually
want
my excellent tutoring skills.” Allison shoved her study guide aside and sat up to stretch. “I'll just study on my own later – I'm too hungry to concentrate.”

My bedroom door swung open. Mrs. Bautista, our Chief Housekeeper for over 15 years, appeared at the doorway. She carried a large tray of grilled ham and cheese sandwiches, baked potatoes with sour cream and chives, caramel fudge brownies, and two large jugs of blue
Gatorade.
Allison took the tray from her and set it down on my bed.

“Thanks, Mrs. B.”

“Oh my goodness. Thank you so much – this looks so good. You're a godsend, Mrs. Bautista,” said Allison gratefully, stuffing a brownie in her mouth.

“Always a pleasure,” said Mrs. Bautista in her usual bubbly voice. The woman never failed to brighten up a room with just her laugh. “I know you kids get hungry after school from studying so hard all day.”

I could feel Allison's damning look on the back of my neck.

“Of course, Mrs. Bautista. We study
so
hard. Miles, especially.”

“Now, if I'm not mistaken – someone's got a birthday coming up next month. I'll be sure to make you my six-cheese spaghetti and meatballs that you love so much. And I'll whip up a red velvet cake for you to take home to your family.”

“Aw, that sounds amazing, Mrs. Bautista! Thank you so much for remembering, but you really don't have to go through all that trouble for me –”

“Nonsense. I insist.”

“Well, alright. Thanks, Mrs. Bautista. You're the best!” Allison wrapped an arm around the woman's large waist. “So, how are Michelle and Dante?”

“Oh, they're doing just wonderful!” I could hear Mrs. Bautista flushing with pride at the mention of her kids. “Michelle is starting elementary school soon, and Dante's on his first year at college – he's a Hotel Restaurant Management major. I'm very proud of them – my only wish is that their father could be around to see how good they're doing now, but they're with my sister, so they're in excellent hands.”

“That's so good to hear,” said Allison earnestly as she twisted off the cap of her
Gatorade
. “I can't imagine what it's like to have to spend so much time away from my family. Michelle and Dante are lucky to have a mom that works as hard as you do. And to put up with all that crap from von Weber Senior.”

“That's sweet, Allison. I knew there was a reason I've always liked you. You know, you and Miles have always been –”

“Not that again, Mrs. B. It's never gonna happen.”

“I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm going to have to agree with Miles.” Allison winked at Mrs. Bautista, nudging her on the side. “Besides, Miles has his eye on a completely new girl now.”

“Is that so?” Mrs. Bautista returned her wink. “And who is this special lady?”

“Daisy Clarke. She's a real nice girl, too. Plus, she's really pretty, super smart, and an all-around respectable girl.”

“Really? Why, that's great news!”

“Isn't it?”

“You guys make it sound like I've only been dating King Kong's slutty daughters up to this point.”

“Well...” said both of them in unison behind my back before breaking out in a fit of giggles.

“Alright, you kids have fun,” said Mrs. Bautista, heading for the door. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Will do, Mrs. Bautista.”

“Thanks again, Mrs. B.”

“So, you wanna get in on this, or what?” Allison called out from behind me. “None of this food's staying on the plate for long – fair warning.”

“Alright,” I spoke into my microphone. “Yo, Big Rob, I'm gonna take a break.”

“
Cool, cool. My mom's been yelling my name for the last five minutes, anyway. Peace.”

I saved my game progress and joined Allison on the foot of my bed. As Allison started working on her second baked potato, I grabbed myself a hot toasted sandwich. I scarfed down the cheesy sandwich in four bites, mulling the thoughts circling in my head.

“So you think Daisy's a good girl?”

“I do.” Allison beamed at me, wiggling her eyebrows in turns. “Why? You've never cared about what I thought about the other girls you've dated.”

“Yeah, yeah, shut up. I don't really know if we have anything in common. What if shit gets awkward tomorrow night?”

“Oh my goodness. Can it be true? Is Miles von Weber actually getting nervous before a date?”

“You're a tool,” I snapped, flinging a pillow at her. Allison caught it in midair without flinching. The stupid grin on her face only grew wider. “I'm serious. Maybe you're right. Daisy's a nice girl – I don't want to say something to offend her, or do anything to screw up the night.”

“And you're a nice guy,” said Allison. She dropped the smile on her face, her voice turning serious. “Don't sweat it. Daisy's a big girl – she can make her own decisions. There's a reason she agreed in the first place – and, she hasn't even called to cancel yet, so I think you're in the clear.”

“True. I still can't believe I've never noticed her before. Good thing she put that skinny-ass thug in his place. That waste of space deserved every little bit of that humiliation.”

“You mean Malcolm Radley?”

“Malcolm Radley?” I repeated as I reached for a brownie. “Why does that name sound so familiar?”

“You're kidding me right? We went to school with that kid before
Stonewall
. He tried to get everyone to call him M.R., but everyone just called him Malcolm Ugly? I mean, that's super lame, but then again, we were 9.”

“Holy shit. That's Malcolm Ugly?”

Malcolm was this runt of a kid that got bullied all the time back in elementary school. He was always smaller than the other kids, with his growth spurt delayed until some time in high school. He was a little prick, too – always trying to start fights with bigger kids, overcompensating for his size.

I never really knew the kid, but I distinctly remember walking in on him in the bathroom one time while he was in the middle of getting his balls duct-taped up his ass. The kids at
Marigold Heights
were fucking brutal. I ran out and grabbed the nearest teacher as soon as I could, but the damage was done. The poor kid had to undergo hours of surgery to graft the skin that came off with the tape. That was pretty much the last I ever heard of him again. I didn't even realize he was going to
Stonewall.
The dude looked different, but time obviously hadn't made him any less of a dick.

“Yup, that's him.”

“Jesus. He was an annoying little cunt – once a cunt, always a cunt, I guess.”

“I wouldn't say that. What he did to Derek was unforgivable, but I'd say he's more misunderstood, than anything.”

“And why do you say that?”

“Oh, I don't know.” Allison shrugged behind her
Gatorade
bottle. “My mom told me he's had it rough. Malcolm's mom left him with his alcoholic dad the minute he was born. His dad blamed him for his mother leaving, and would throw him around relentlessly. Hookers and random women were in and out his house every other day. The nurse at school started getting suspicious about all his bruises and broken bones. His neighbors would also find him running around naked, hungry, and crying while his dad left him alone for days on end. CPS was called, but my understanding was that nothing was done until his dad beat him so bad, he was sent to the hospital and had to be on life support. After he recovered, he moved in with his grandmother, and he was home-schooled until high school.”

“Wow.” My throat turned scratchy and dry just listening to that horrific story. “That's fucking terrible. Poor dude.”

“Yeah, well. Life is better to some of us than most – you of all people should know that.”

Knowing she was right, I kept my mouth wired shut. I hated it when Allison put me in my place. But at the same time, I was grateful, and loved her for it. She was definitely one of the good ones – she knew just how to see past the bad, and always managed to find the good in everyone. Apparently, even assholes like Malcolm Radley.

Allison picked up her bag from the floor. She took out a red velvet pouch, where she stored her tarot cards. I stroked my chin as I watched her take out her deck and tuck her legs under her.

“Whoa. Is Madame Alizon back in business already?”

“Shut up. I haven't done my readings this month. I've only got time for a quickie.”

I resisted the urge to snort at her – for a smart girl, she was way too into these hippie-fortune-teller-new-age bullshit.

“My bad. By all means – you do your thing.”

As Allison shuffled her cards, she mouthed a question silently to herself. She took three cards from the deck and laid them face-up on my bed. The first tarot card was “The Sun.” Her second card was “The Ace of Swords.” But the moment she revealed the last card, the color drained from her face.

“'Ten of Swords',” I read aloud as I cranked my neck to the side.

“It's – it's upright.”

“And that means...?”