TROUBLE, A New Adult Romance Novel (The Rebel Series) (13 page)

I nod, saying nothing else.
 
It feels good to share a little bit of my secret like this.
 
What’s the harm in saying he was a jerk?
 
It’s not like they know who it is.

“What’s his name?” Teagan asks.
 
“Anyone we know?”

Her words yank me out of my foggy haze.
 
All this pink … it made me drop my guard.
 
What was I thinking?
 
“No.
 
No one you know.”
 
I stand up and smear the tears off my face with the palms of my hands.
 
“Oh, man. I’m a total mess of hormones right now.” I plaster a fake grin on my face.
 
“Are there any towels unpacked yet?
 
I need to wash my face.”

Quin and Teagan exchange a look. I’m expecting the third degree to start happening but instead Teagan just points.
 
“Bathroom in the middle of the hall has everything you should need.”

“Great.
 
Thanks so much.”
 
I rush over to kiss them both on the cheek before beating it out of there.

Once inside the bathroom, I lock the door and lean against it.
 
I’m breathing like I just ran a marathon, and I feel like I just escaped something really awful.
 
It makes me wonder when I’ll ever feel free again instead of like a prisoner.

I take my time getting cleaned up and coming back out into the main part of the house.
 
I’m relieved to find that everyone is too busy moving furniture to pay me any mind.

About an hour later, after I’ve had a quick nap and finally put the last piece of my clothing into a drawer, Mick shows up in my doorway holding out his phone.
 
“Call for ya.”

I walk over and take it from him gently.
 
“For me?”
 
Just the idea makes me nervous.
 
Is it Colin?

“Some girl named Charity, I think?
 
Got my number from Colin.”

I’m momentarily stunned.
 
But then my brain kicks in.
 
“Oh!
 
Thanks!”
 
I put the phone to my ear.
 
“Charity?
 
Hi, this is Alissa.”

“Hey, girl.
 
You sure are hard to find, you know that?
 
Anyway, I’m on break at school so I only have a minute.
 
I just wanted to see if you’re available to meet me for a soda or a water one of these days.
 
I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said, and I think we could do something about this adoption thing.
 
Together, I mean.
 
Like you just helping me and stuff or whatever.”

The idea of being able to help someone like I’ve been helped fills me with instant happiness.
 
Mick looks at me funny as I respond.
 
“Sure, I’d love to.
 
Maybe I can ride with my friend when she goes into work.
 
That’s just up the street from where I met you that one time.”

“Excellent.
 
Works for me.
 
And I have my grandpa’s car, so if you want, I can come get you.
 
If the whole riding with the friend thing doesn’t work out.”

“Okay.
 
I should be fine.
 
We can discuss everything over a soda.”

“Tomorrow okay for you?”

I shrug.
 
“I think so.
 
If not, I’ll call you back. What time?”

“Three.
 
I have about an hour then.”

“Great!”
 
I’m probably way too excited about the prospect of an ice water with a friend, but so what.
 
“See you tomorrow.”

“You too.
 
And don’t forget to keep your feet up.
 
Helps with the puffy ankles.”

“Thanks for the reminder.
 
Bye.”
 
I press the red button and hand the phone over to Mick.
 
“Thanks.”

“Who was that?”

“Just a friend.”
 
Someone I can help.
 
Someone who knows what I’m going through.
 
Suddenly, my life doesn’t feel quite as desperate.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

DINNER ENDS UP BEING PIZZA, wings and beer.
 
I stick with pizza and water.
 
My stomach isn’t much into hot sauce and I’m pretty sure turning my baby into an alcoholic in the third trimester is not a good idea.
 
We’re sitting around the family room eating off paper plates when Colin walks in.

“Where’ve you been?” Mick asks.
 
“We could have used your help lifting the furniture.”
 
His tone is missing the anger it usually has when talking to Colin.

“Working.
 
Finishing up that Nova as requested.”
 
His words are for Rebel, but he’s staring at the pizza boxes.

“Help yourself,” Teagan says, gesturing to the food.
 
“Beer’s in the fridge.”

“No thanks.
 
I’ll just stick with water.”

My heart leaps up into my throat and sticks there when he takes his two pieces of pizza and comes over to sit on the arm of my chair.
 
He swipes my bottled water off the table in front of me and helps himself to a huge swig of it.
 
I’m afraid I might faint at his familiarity.
 
It’s way to comfortable and warm.

“Ew, cooties,” Quin says.
 
She walks into the kitchen and comes back with a fresh bottle of water for me.
 
“Here, sweetie cheeks.
 
You can have your own. Wouldn’t want you swapping spit with pure Trouble, now would we?”
 
She smiles, but I swear there’s a devil inside there just having a ball over my discomfort.
 
I’m actually kind of sad to have my own water.

“Ha, ha.
 
Very funny,” I say, wishing I could come up with something snappier.
 
But I don’t want to let her know that she’s shot an arrow right into the center of my heart.
 
I totally want to swap spit with Colin.
 
It’s no use denying it anymore, but the very least I can do is act cool about it.
 
To be a pitiful pregnant mess hanging onto his very shadow would be the worst kind of nightmare.

“She likes my cooties, don’t ya, Liss?”
 
He nudges me in the shoulder with his elbow, acting all casual about it.

I look away.
 
“No thanks.”

Mick laughs.
 
“You sticking around for the game?”

“Maybe.
 
Who’s playing?”

“Spain and Brazil.”

“Yeah.
 
I’ll stay.”
 
Colin looks over at Rebel.

I pretend that the arrangement of olives on my pizza is very, very critical to its enjoyment while I listen for Colin’s next words.
 
He seems … nervous or unsure of himself.

“Yo, Rebel.
 
I was thinking … are you using the attic?”

Rebel stares at his brother for a few seconds before turning to look at Teagan.
 
He says nothing, but she speaks up.

“It’s full of dust and rat turds.
 
Why?”

“I was up there the other day and it actually has some great light coming in from those skylights and the round window under the gable. It would make a great painting studio.
 
If you’re not using the space, I’d rent it from you.”

“What about your apartment?” Quin asks.
 
“Don’t you usually paint there?”

“Yeah, but it’s getting too crowded.
 
And covered in paint. Got some on my stereo the other day.”

“Doesn’t bother me,” Rebel says, going back to focusing on his pizza.

“Me neither,” says Teagan. “But you’d have to clean it up when we move out.
 
I’m not losing my part of the security deposit because you destroyed the upstairs.”

“Not a problem.”
 
Colin looks to Rebel.
 
“We cool?”

Rebel nods.

No one seems to realize what a bad idea this is but me. I squirm in my seat, wishing someone would ask me for my opinion.
 
I mean, I know I’m not paying rent, but I live here too.

“What’s the matter, Alissa?
 
You have a problem with Colin painting here?”
 
It’s Quin again.
 
She’s like a darn termite in my brain, eating away at my thoughts and making it impossible for me to just live anonymously in this place.

“Well, you know … paint fumes aren’t good for babies.”

“You won’t smell a thing,” Colin says.
 
“I’ll open a window.”

“And attics aren’t good for your lungs.
 
You know, with all the dust and rat … excrement.”

“A little rat shit never hurt anyone,” he says.

I can hear the smile in his voice, but I can’t look at his face.
 
I focus on the fireplace mantle over his shoulder.
 
“I’m pretty sure it can.
 
It can cause diseases.”

“As long as I don’t go blind, I guess I’ll be fine.”

I sigh out in annoyance.
 
He’s totally not getting the hint.

“If he hasn’t gone blind by now, it ain’t never gonna happen,” says Mick, snickering.

Colin throws a pepperoni at his brother.
 
“Shut it, shrimp.”

“Come on over here and say that to my face, painter pansy.”

Colin drops his pizza on my plate and leaps up off the chair.
 
Mick is gone and out the back door before I even have time to blink.

The two of them are wrestling on the back lawn by the time we all reach them.
 
This time, though, they’re laughing as they exchange insults.

“Painter pansy? Painter pansy?
 
I’ll give you a painter pansy.
 
How ‘bout this, grease monkey?
 
You like that?”
 
Colin is shoving Mick’s face into the grass.

Mick bucks his brother off his back and dives on him before Colin can roll over.
 
“Grease monkey?
 
How about this?
 
You like that?
 
Fucking twinkle toes I-need-a-painting-studio freak.”
 
He smashes a handful of weeds and dirt into the side of his brother’s face.

“Oh … my … goodness,” Teagan says, shaking her head.
 
“Brotherly love.
 
Another reminder about how lucky I am to be an only child.”

“Not all brothers are as idiotic as these two,” says Quin.

No sooner are the words out of her mouth than I hear, “Mickeeeyyyy!” being shrieked over my shoulder.
 
I turn around in time to see a small boy with his arm wrapped up in a sling flying through the house towards us.

I step to the side so he can run past me and not plow me over.

“No, Jersey!” Quin yells, grabbing the back of his shirt and halting his entry into the wrestling match.

He falls back with his shirt bunched up around his neck.

“Stop!” she yells. “You’re not supposed to wrestle until your arm is better.”

I look at him and then around behind me.
 
There’s no one else there.
 
“Where’d he come from?” I ask, a little bewildered.
 
This place is suddenly a madhouse with Jersey yelling and struggling against his sister’s hold.

“He’s probably here with her dad,” Teagan says, leaving to go to the front of the house.

I stay and watch the scene unfold.
 
My house was never this noisy or out of control, ever.
 
It’s like I’ve stepped into an alternate reality, and it’s not entirely unpleasant.
 
It’s just … different.

As soon as Mick sees Quin’s brother, he stops and gets up.
 
Jersey sees it and strains his arms out towards Mick.

Colin grabs Mick by the ankle and yanks him back down, oblivious to what’s going on since he still has grass and dirt in his eyes.

“Quit, man!” Mick yells.
 
“It’s Jersey.
 
Quit!”

Colin freezes, his hand on his brother’s leg.
 
When he sees the newcomer, he sits up and then stands, running his fingers through his hair and brushing the dirt away.
 
There are several streaks of brown soil across his nose and forehead.
 
He looks at me and then at Mick, waiting for him to make the next move. He’s breathing heavily, his chest moving in and out.
 
I can’t stop staring.
 
If he takes his shirt off, I will surely faint.

Mick goes over to Jersey and offers up a fist for bumping.
 
“J-man, what’s up, my brother?”

“Nothin’. Dad says I get to come visit for thirty minutes, no more, no less.”
 
He’s grinning from ear to ear.
 
“I wanna go to your house, but Daddy says I gotta come here.”

“I’m not at my house, so I’m glad you came here.”
 
Mick lays his arm over Jersey’s shoulders and turns him towards the house.
 
“Want some pizza?”

“Yeah!
 
Pizzzaaaa!”
 
Jersey takes off, brushing past me like I’m invisible.

This house is too far away for Jersey to sneak over here without getting a ride.
 
As I’m trying to puzzle through how he’s actually here alone, I catch the voice of an older man in the house.
 
I assume that’s Quin’s father.

Now that I kind of know what’s going on, I can breathe normally again.
 
For a minute there, I thought we were going to have a major family drama on our hands.
 
It’s already bad enough that Quin’s brother and mother have been barely out of the hospital and have bad burn scars to deal with.
 
I can only imagine what they’d do if the kid ran away.
 
He seems like a really big handful.
 
It makes motherhood even more frightening than usual.