Chapter 6

6

Atlas

Taylor takes a hit from his cart, then holds it out to me as if to ask if I want any. I shake my head. He’s a little obsessed with his legal form of cannabis, but any form of weed has never been my thing. Not that I have anything against it. In the grand scheme of things, I think it’s a lot safer for most people than alcohol, but for me, it weakens my defenses. When I’m drunk, it’s easier for me to stay angry, but when I smoke pot, it’s like I can’t hold my secrets in anymore, and that shit just won’t do. I’d much rather be locked up tight.

Taylor tries to hand it to Brenner next, who’s sitting opposite me on my couch, but he turns Taylor down too.

Not long after I got home from Activate Kindness, they came over with pizza and wanting to play video games. They got extra pepperoni, my favorite, so even though I hadn’t felt like company tonight, I’d caved.

Sometimes I wonder why they put up with me. I’m more of a loner than both Taylor and Brenner, but even when I’m grumbly, they stick around and always have my back.

“You just want me to get goofy and sleepy so you can beat my ass at this game,” Brenner says.

“No, I was just being a nice guy. I don’t need to get you high to kick your ass. Atlas too. You guys suck.” Taylor isn’t wrong. He’s got gaming down to an art.

“Fuck off,” I reply. “I can’t help it if I have a life outside Call of Duty.” Sometimes I think Taylor would rather play games than get his dick wet. He is ridiculously obsessed with his record. Which is fine, of course. To each their own, and if he’s not interested in sex, no biggie, but when we’re out, all he talks about is getting laid, so I think it takes getting him to leave home before he remembers there’s a whole wide world out there.

“Like being broody and grumpy?” he teases, clearly feeling the effects of what he’s smoking.

“Atlas is like one of those guys from teen romance movies. He just needs to work on pouting those lips a little more.” Brenner makes ridiculous kissy faces while also wrinkling his forehead in what must be his way of trying to mock intensity.

“Why aren’t you ever on my side?” I joke.

Before Brenner can reply, Taylor says, “That sparkling vampire. Atlas is like him.” He laughs. Definitely high.

“Oh my God. That’s so him!” Brenner practically bounces on my couch cushion. He’s got more energy than anyone I know.

“Keep talking shit to remind me why both of you are getting busy with your hands more often than not. Whatever I’m doing clearly works.” It’s a BS excuse. I’m the way I am because it’s a whole lot easier than dealing with how I really feel, but I can’t tell them that.

I stand, then walk over and plop down on the chair. Just as I’m pulling my cell out, Brenner says, “You think that shit will work with your stepbrother? Give me some tips, man. I want him.”

My pulse skyrockets. What the hell is it about Troy that makes everyone I know want to fuck him? Is it that boy-next-door vibe? The fact that outwardly he tries to keep the peace with everyone except me, but beneath the surface, we can all tell there’s something a little…darker isn’t the word…maybe wild…yeah, there’s something wild that wants to break free.

Clearly, I’ve put way too much thought into this, and if it wasn’t for both Dixon and Brenner saying something on the same day, maybe I wouldn’t be dissecting it.

Ignoring my friends, I let them lose themselves in the game while I check my phone. Speak of the devil. I can’t help smiling before I even read his message.

Lil Stepbro: Let me know when you’re finished with your date. Something I want to talk to you about.

I snort. He has to know I’m not really on a date, right?

Me: No.

Lil Stepbro: Stop being an asshole.

Me: How do I stop being who I am?

Everyone thinks so, so it must be true.

Lil Stepbro: Are you home?

Me: What’s it to you?

I could do this all day. I realize that probably means I’m a bad person, but Troy makes me smile when I get him all ruffled, quiets some of the frustration that’s always in my head. I know he’s been through a lot too. His mom will do anything to keep my dad happy, and I think that hurts Troy more than he lets on. Maybe even more than he knows. It’s why even though I was a dick about the whole thing, I bought him the alternator. He deserves people doing nice things for him sometimes. I just have to find a way to do them while still being me.

Lil Stepbro: Can you just tell me where you are?

Me: Zimbabwe

Lil Stepbro: I’m on my way over. We’re talking whether you want to or not.

Well, shit. This just got interesting. I like it when he gets all pissy.

“You guys gotta go,” I tell Brenner and Taylor.

“Why?” Taylor asks.

Because my stepbrother is coming over.Which shouldn’t be a reason. It’s not like I have to be alone with the guy for him to tell me how big of a dick I am.

“I’m tired.”

“It’s only eight thirty,” Brenner complains. They both live on campus, so they’re always jonesing for my shitty apartment—hence the pepperoni pizza.

“Dude, whatever. Someone is coming over.”

That language they understand. If they think I’m hooking up, they know they’d be doing the same thing as me if the situation was reversed, even when Taylor sometimes forgets to think with his cock.

“You suck, Atlas,” Taylor says, but he still ends the game. “Have fun. You should teach us how to brood. Does this work?” He pulls a funny face like Brenner did earlier, that looks like he’s trying to take a shit, and I can’t help but laugh.

“Yes. That’s exactly it. You should do that to everyone you want to sleep with.”

“Bet.” He pumps his brows.

Taylor throws his arm over Brenner’s shoulder and gives him a noogie, the two of them cracking up. I have way more fun with them than I let them know.

“Thanks for the food,” I say, and we bump fists.

They bail, and I sit there trying to figure out what has Troy so bent out of shape that he has to come over. Maybe he just wants to get the alternator right away. I assume he went to the metal yard and knows I bought it. He probably thinks I’ll fuck with it or something, which I would never do.

My fingers tap a beat against the arm of the chair while I wait for Troy to show up. When there’s a knock at the door, I call out, “Come in.”

Troy doesn’t hesitate, pushing inside. “You have the fucking alternator.”

“Do I? I can’t remember if I do… Maybe…”

He runs a hand through his hair, an edge to his movements he doesn’t usually have. Something is different about this. He’s really upset, but it can’t be just about the alternator.

“You enjoy this too much.” There’s a bite to his tone that rubs me wrong.

“Let’s not pretend you don’t enjoy giving me shit too.” I shove to my feet.

“Yeah, but did you ever consider I have a lot going on? That I’m stressed the fuck out? Then you had me making an extra trip to the metal yard only to find out you bought it and probably sold it to someone else!”

I try not to flinch at his accusation. I know I’m a dick, but am I really that bad? He thinks I would buy the part, tell him about it, and then sell it to someone else? I would never do that. As much as I hate anyone having that much control over my emotions, it hurts that he thinks I would. “Fuck you, Troy.”

“Fuck me? Fuck you. I’m not the asshole here.”

Apparently, I am. Even more so than I thought. Hearing him say that makes me feel lower than it should, so I shut it off and try not to feel anything at all.

Without a word, I walk to the hallway, open the closet, and grab the box with the alternator. “Here’s your part. Your big bad stepbro bought it for you.” When he looks from it to me but doesn’t take it, I set it down. “You can go now.”

“You didn’t buy that for me.”

“Oh, now you’re a mind reader?” I toss back.

“What am I supposed to think when you sent me there for a part you already bought?”

Again, a sharp stab of hurt pierces my gut. I might like to get under his skin, but none of it is supposed to be cruel. Selling a part out from under him would be cruel. “Not that I would tell you, get your hopes up, buy it, and then sell it to someone else—definitely not that. Maybe I’m wrong here and it was a bad joke, and maybe I should have told you before you drove out there, but I assumed you’d see it as me giving you shit.” That’s what we always do to each other.

His gaze softens, forehead wrinkling like he’s deep in thought. When the corners of his mouth turn down, I’m pretty sure he realizes I wouldn’t go that far. Maybe it’s just that he has so much going on, he wasn’t thinking clearly.

“Fuck…fuck.” Troy tugs on the strands of his hair with both hands, then walks over and sits down on the couch. “I’m a dick.”

“That makes two of us.” Because I am, in fact, a dick. So maybe he was right in thinking that about me after all.

He chuckles softly. “You can’t really blame me. It’s not like you do that many nice things for me for no reason.”

I was pretty sure I could blame him, and also, that I did do nice things for no reason. But part of it is my own fault. People don’t know about Activate Kindness. Troy doesn’t know that while he thinks it was just me being a hothead when I got into the fight at his frat party, that it was really because I heard a homophobic prick say something about Troy. That shit wasn’t going to slide. Not around me.

“I’m just freaking the fuck out. This Thermo class is kicking my ass. I studied like crazy, and I still got an F. I’ve always been good at math and science. I just get it, so I don’t know what the hell I’m missing here. And then you saw my grade, and I’m sure you got a huge laugh out of that. On top of the alternator, and Mom packing up Brandon’s things, and—You know what? Never mind. I don’t want to get into this. Last thing I need is for you to use it against me.” He stands and starts walking toward the door, without his alternator, but I step in front of him. “Move,” Troy orders.

My thoughts are suddenly going in a direction I’m not sure I like. The thing is, Troy is smart as fuck. I know he can figure out this Thermo shit. Sometimes he just needs a little push, something to inspire him.

An idea forms in my head, one that part of me wants to totally pretend I never had because it would mean letting him know something about me I don’t want him to know, something that makes me feel raw and seen. It’s no secret that I don’t like opening up, showing people the real parts of me, and volunteering is one of my biggest secrets. The people who matter—Glen, Ellie, Troy, my friends—I just don’t know how to let them in. There’s already enough shit between me and Troy, enough complicated feelings. The last thing I want is to give him this.

But then, this is who we are, Troy and me. We make dumbass bets and do stupid shit. He’s clearly a fucking mess because Troy is perfect and has probably never gotten an F in his life, and though I’ll never admit it, I don’t like to see him this way. “What if I have a way to help you?”