Chapter 5

5

Troy

It’s hard to pin down why I’m so pissed when I walk into the main office at the metal yard.

The F I got in Thermo? The hours I dedicated trying to make sure I wouldn’t get an F? Or that Atlas is probably still deriving pleasure from knowing his stepbro failed so horribly at something? Maybe it’s not even about today. Maybe I’m still mad at Mom for discarding Brandon’s stuff like it meant nothing…like he meant nothing.

I’m sure all these things are playing into my mood, but it didn’t help that I had to drive ten minutes from the shop to buy the alternator Atlas could have just grabbed for me while he was there.

As I approach the front desk in the parts department, there’s no one there, giving me time to stew in my rage. I keep thinking about Atlas strutting around the shop without a shirt on, casually flaunting off his lean, defined muscles that he doesn’t have to do anything to maintain. Not that I’m attracted to him. Far from it. But I have eyes, and I doubt anyone—straight or queer—wouldn’t recognize what he’s got.

I think about what he said when he snuck up on me: “Waiting on a date?” He loves finding me in precarious positions around the shop just so he can get a joke in, and for a straight guy, he’s awfully into my ass.

As soon as I think that, I realize I might be projecting since I’m the one thinking about a dick in his ass, his mouth hanging open, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he lets a girl peg him. Why did he have to put that fucked-up image in my head? He’s so full of shit. He’s never done that before. But he brought it up…so does that mean he’d be willing to?

What does that even matter? God, I hate how he fucks with my head!

Atlas’s coworker Charlie saves me from my thoughts when he finally comes out of the back room. We exchange pleasantries briefly before I say, “Atlas told me about an alternator that came in today. I wanted to take a look. See if it’s in good condition for a car I’m working on. Guy goes to Peach State. Was really worried when I told him how much the part was probably gonna run him, so I’m hoping this is fate.”

I’m waiting for him to check the computer or the back, but his forehead wrinkles. “Atlas already bought that one. I rang him up just a few hours ago. I didn’t ask, but I assumed he was going to sell it to you.”

The fuck?

I was just pissed before. Now I’m seething, but I remain cordial with Charlie before heading back to my car, sliding into the driver’s seat.

Why the fuck didn’t he tell me?

I snatch his tee from the passenger seat—I discovered it after he left the shop—and I grip it tightly, taking my frustration out on it. A whiff of musk and sweat reaches me—Atlas’s scent—and before I realize what I’m doing, I’m holding it to my face.

It’s…disorienting.

I’ve always enjoyed his smell, even back in high school. Something he never needs to fucking know.

I smell it again, and a growl rises from my chest, like a hound being given the scent of its prey.

That extra whiff somehow makes things click into place.

I’m brimming with pride because I figured what he did: fucking sold the alternator to AAMCO. He’s been around the shop enough to hear the guys complaining about all the business that franchise’s been draining from our little mom-and-pop. I bet he got it in his head that the best way to fuck with me is to sell to them. Maybe he was even able to get more cash from them.

No, Atlas wouldn’t do something like that for cash or even just to piss me off. But then, why would he buy the damned alternator?

This is so Atlas—my messy, incoherent map. One minute we’re at McDonald’s, bonding over our shit parents, and it’s like I’m on a clear path to Phoenix. Next thing I know, I’m lost in fucking Siberia.

*

“You’re gonna befine,” my buddy Colin assures me.

After returning home from the metal yard, I took a shower to decompress before inviting him into my room to vent about my Thermo test.

In gym shorts and a crop top, I lie on my bed, tossing a football back and forth with Colin, who stands by my desk, sporting pajama bottoms and a mesh cap. As I spin the ball back to him, the tension in my chest eases. Throwing a ball around is my version of meditation.

“Yeah? What tests have you failed so far?”

“All right, none, but how many more tests do you have in that class?”

“Five. And there’s a project that counts for twenty-five percent of my grade.”

“Okay, well, I know you don’t suck at math, so you know that’s more than enough to get your grade up. You don’t have to withdraw over that.”

“Colin, I was already struggling on the quizzes and homework. Thermo is a different way of thinking than I’m used to. It’s abstract, and some of this shit is damn right counterintuitive. I thought if I was good at Calc, everything else would be easy, but…”

“Yeah, you’re right. You probably just found something you suck at.”

As I catch the football, I notice the grin stretch across his face. He knows me well enough to know that’s just the sort of thing that will kick my ass into gear.

“I’m gonna think on it,” I tell him, sending the ball back to him.

There’s a knock at my door, and I call out, “Come in!”

The door opens, and a head pokes inside—Colin’s stepbrother, Ash. It’s not random chance that Colin and I became so close in high school. He knows what it’s like to have some messy family shit to deal with, and it’s what bonded us. Although, he and Ash have a totally different relationship than Atlas and me.

“Ash Ketchum!” I call out as he steps into my room. I’ve called him that since he was a freshman in high school, after he attended more than a few costume parties dressed as the renowned Pokémon-catching hottie.

Ash’s eyes widen behind his thick-rimmed glasses before he says, “Did you convert your Alpha Theta Mu shirt into a crop top?”

“We got a bad batch of spirit-wear last week, with the letters too high. I made ’em work.”

“You certainly did,” Ash says, his eyes drinking me in. Ash is bi and recently single from the girl he was seeing through freshman year, so I’ve noticed him doing a lot more looking around lately.

“Did you just come in here to compliment his shirt?” Colin asks.

“Ooh, so jealous.” Ash winks. “I actually need you for one of my TaskFrat challenges,” he tells Colin.

TaskFrat is a series of task games orchestrated by the Peach State frats, largely inspired by the British television series Taskmaster. Ash is a real whiz and participates in all the major events, but I usually stick to the big TaskFrat Xtreme Games in the spring.

Speaking of whiz…

“Hey, Ash, know any brainiacs who passed Thermo?”

A cocky smirk sweeps across his face. “You’re looking at a brainiac who passed Thermo.”

“Huh, really?” I glare at Colin. “Your stepbro didn’t mention this.”

“I can’t keep track of all the stuff he does,” Colin says.

Ash approaches Colin. “So cute when you pretend not to know everything about me.”

“Hey, baby bro, you think you could help my dumb jock buddy with Thermo? Apparently, he sucks at it.” He grins, just eating this moment up.

“Well, that’s funny because I need you for TaskFrat, and I guess if you aren’t going to help me…” Ash starts for the door.

I’m about to suggest I step in when Colin says, “Fine. You make a mockery of me tonight, but then you help my friend with Thermo. Deal?”

Ash’s brow creases. “You help me with them for the rest of the year, and I’ll do it.”

Colin chuckles. “Fine.”

“Sucker. I would’ve done it for free.” Ash spins Colin’s cap around and lowers the bill over Colin’s eyes. “Now come on.”

“What’s the challenge?” Colin asks as he fixes his cap. “Last time I helped you, I wound up naked, crawling through a kiddie pool of Jell-O.”

“You can’t blame anyone but yourself for going commando. And we won’t know the challenge until we get there, so throw on some briefs, and let’s get going.”

“Can I have ten?” Colin asks.

“I can give you twenty. You’re welcome to come watch, Troy,” Ash says, with a not-so-subtle wink and a smile.

“Thanks, but I have something to tend to.”

He and Colin agree on where they’ll meet up before Ash heads back out.

“Dude, I think your adorable stepbrother might have a crush on me,” I say as I toss him the ball.

His gaze wavers. “I will neither confirm nor deny it.”

I laugh. “Has he told you that? Wow. I would never tell Atlas anything he could use against me.”

“I didn’t say he told me anything,” Colin cleverly replies to keep from disclosing what I’ve already intuited from his obvious stepbro.

“It’s cute seeing you keep his little secrets. You guys are proof that stepbrothers can get along. I don’t know why mine has to be such a fucking asshole.”

“Come on. You guys have known each other for…what, like five years?”

“Six. And lived under the same roof for four of them.”

“That’s a long-ass time. You may get under each other’s skin, but you can’t tell me you don’t have your own things. Maybe some secrets you keep for each other?”

My thoughts return to high school, seeing Atlas around the halls, that cocky grin as he reveled in knowing I was wearing the lacy panties. I’d never wanted to resort to physical violence as much as I did every time he looked at me, loving that he was the only one who knew the dirty secret that represented his victory over me. Even thinking about it all these years later stirs my rage, but just as quickly, I reminisce about the day I got to enjoy the same satisfaction as he walked around after I’d marked his ass with my name…like he was my property.

Yeah, we do have our little secrets, but I doubt they’re the same as the sort Colin and Ash would keep.

“Why are you making that mischievous smile?” Colin asks.

“What?” I ask, my cheeks warming. “I was just thinking about some of the shit we got up to in high school. It wasn’t all bad, I guess.”

“You guys talk plenty for as much shit as you give each other.”

“You and Ash give each other shit.”

“Eh, it’s different.”

Don’t I know it?

“It gets me thinking,” I tell Colin. “You familiar with the myth of Atlas?”

Colin looks thrown as he tosses the ball back to me. “Huh?”

“The Titan who led the gods in a war against Zeus. He was punished by having to carry the heavens on his shoulders.”

“I’m familiar with that story.”

“Sometimes my stepbrother acts like he’s got the heavens on his shoulders, and he’s not happy about it, so he’s just thrashing about to punish anyone near him. What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I definitely don’t talk about my stepbro like that.”

“Shut the fuck up,” I say as I send the ball back to him.

We share a laugh.

Colin might have helped me cool down a bit, but I haven’t shared with him the dick move Atlas pulled on me today. It’s something I intend to confront him about, and when Colin heads out, I hop up and head over to my dresser, where I set Atlas’s tee. I guess if he’s being a dick to me, I don’t have to worry about returning it.

I grab my phone off my desk and text him: Let me know when you’re finished with your date. Something I want to talk to you about.