Page 21 of The Golden Boys
Another ball goes in and I snatch it back while swallowing the last of the brownie I wolfed down.
“Good for you,” I say with a disinterested sigh. “You should probably take off then. You know, enjoy having the day to yourself. Guess I’ll see you when I see you.”
Before Ricky can even get a sentence out, I climb a few of the porch steps, heading toward the back door. Only, the light hold on my wrist halts me. The touch is gentle, but acts as a reminder of being grabbed by West earlier. I snatch away and my eyes dart toward Ricky and I’m fully aware that I’m projecting anger meant for West toward the wrong guy. However, I’m too proud to apologize.
His head cocks and I know what he’s about to say. “You good? I wasn’t trying to upset you. I just need you to hold up for a sec.”
An exhausted sigh escapes and I force my frustration to subside. At least momentarily. “It’s just been a long day,” is the only explanation I give, which is an understatement if I’ve ever heard one.
Staring out at the rusted garage door where my rim hangs, I prop myself against the rail. Ricky’s staring, but I refuse to meet his gaze. Instead, I focus on the black web of telephone and electrical wires that zigzag back and forth from the roof of the house, to the wooden posts that tower in the alley.
“I think—”
“Not in the mood to hear what you think,” I cut in, still refusing to meet his gaze.
“You don’t even know what I was gonna say,” he counters with a laugh.
It’s so hard to rattle him, which I used to loveandhate. But when he’s pushed, there’s a ruthless side no one, including me, wants to see.
When I don’t take the bait, he takes a different approach. One I didn’t see coming by a mile.
“Wouldn’t expect a girl who’s about to lockdown the king of the north to be in such a shitty mood.” There’s an undertone of amusement in his voice that annoys the hell out of me. He’s grinning when I finally level a look down on him from the steps.
“What’sthatsupposed to mean?” The words fly from my mouth like fiery darts, filled with suspicion.
Before answering, he pulls the phone from his pocket and scrolls. When the screen is turned toward me, my stomach sinks at the sight of that pink and black, tiger-striped icon.
“Folks seem to think there’s a hookup in your future,” Ricky adds.
So many thoughts flash in my head, most of which would end in an angry rant about what I just went through after orientation, but these aren’t the kinds of things I share with Ricky. We aren’t friends. We aren’tanythingbut exes, so I hold it all in.
Jules, on the other hand, will certainly be getting an earful the second I make it inside the house and dial her number.
“Following gossip apps now, Ruiz? Seems a little beneath you.”
He laughs, but it’s a bit more subdued than before. Like, maybe his ego is slightly wounded with whatever he thinks he knows about this whole West situation. I’ve been super cold toward Ricky these past few months, so there’s some guilt lurking beneath the surface, prompting me to ease up a little.
“It’s not like … whatever they’re trying to portray. Trust me,” is all I say, but I leave out the part about those bastards separating me from the herd to threaten me.
I don’t need Ricky’s pity or whatever reaction he might have. My problems are not his problems, despite what he thinks.
“If you say so,” he replies with a slick grin, like he thinks there’s more to this story. I suppose there is, but it’s nothing like what he’s imagining.
“I’m not talking to you about this,” I say, shutting down that portion of the conversation.
There’s a brief standoff where I feel him wanting to press, but he refrains, which is lucky for me. Instead, he changes the subject, but of course he brings up the oneotherthing I refuse to discuss with him.
“Your brother’s still asking for you. Every time we talk, actually,” he adds. “He says it’s important, but he refuses to talk about it over the phone or in letters. Says it has to be face-to-face.”
Sighing, I lift my gaze to the sky. “And like I keep telling you, Hunter made his own bed, and he will lie in it alone. It’s bad enough he left me to deal with everything on my own. I’ve got Scar to look after, plus work, and school in a few days,” I ramble. “He should be here. He knows how our parents are, so he should’ve thought enough of me and Scar to be better.”
“Don’t say that,” Ricky cuts in. “You know he wasalwaysthinking about you.”
My stare turns cold. He’s always sticking up for Hunter, good or bad, right or wrong. There’s such a thing as being loyal, and such a thing as being an enabler. Sometimes, I struggle to decide which role Ricky fills in Hunter’s life most often.
“If he cared, if he really wanted what’s best for us, he’d be here,” I conclude. “Period.”
I can’t admit this out loud, but I’m also one-hundred percent sure I couldn’t stand seeing my brother like that—locked in that place, knowing he’ll be there for decades without any chance of release. I prefer the memories I’ve managed to hold on to.