“But . . .” He pinched his eyebrows together. “You know I just wanted to see you in a bikini,” he told Addie.
“Oh, put a cork in it.” She waved her hand.
“What is this?” His eyebrows were still pinched together while he studied the puzzle case.
“It’s a Puzzle Pod Cryptex,” Addie explained. “You have to solve the riddle that I have taped to the bottom, and dial the five-letter answer to open the pod. Then you can retrieve the present inside.
Madoc read his out loud. “‘At night they come without being fetched, and by day they are lost without being stolen. What are they?’” His eyes shot up to pin Addie. “Seriously?”
He threw back his arm, raising the cryptex high above his head, when Addie reached out and grabbed him.
“No, don’t you dare!” she yelled, while he mock-scowled at her. “You’re not breaking it open! Use your brain.”
“You know I suck at stuff like this.” But then he started dialing letters, guessing at the answer.
I read mine to myself. “What gets wetter the more it dries?”
Please. I snickered and dialed in “towel.” The cryptex opened, and I pulled out a gift card to a skate shop I used to frequent in town.
“Thanks, Addie,” I chirped, not wanting to tell her that I no longer skated.
I looked over at Madoc, who was still working his puzzle with an eyebrow arched. He was struggling, and the more he struggled the dumber he was going to feel. Walking over, I took the cryptex out of his hands, my breath catching for only a moment when my fingers brushed his.
I looked at the puzzle and spoke quietly as I dialed. “‘At night they come without being fetched, and by day they are lost without being stolen.’” It clicked, and I met his soft eyes staring down at me, not the cryptex. “Stars,” I said, almost in a whisper.
He wasn’t breathing. The stern set to his eyes as he loomed over me reminded me of so many times I’d looked up at him, wanting things I was afraid to ask for.
But we were different now. I wanted only his pain, and judging from the girl he’d come home with last night, Madoc was still the same. A user.
I hooded my eyes, trying to appear bored, as I shoved the now-open cryptex back at him.
He took a deep breath and smiled, the intense concentration now gone. “Thank you.” Then he turned to Addie. “See? We’re getting along fine.”
And he left through the sliding-glass doors leading to the vast patio and pool area with his gift card to the go-kart track.
I swallowed, trying to calm the windstorm in my stomach. “So that’s it?” I asked Addie. “You’re letting him stay, after all?”
“You said you were okay with it.”
“I am,” I rushed to add. “I’m just . . . I just don’t want you to get in trouble with the boss.”
She gave a half-smile and started pouring batter onto the griddle. “Do you know that Madoc started playing the piano again?” Her eyes stayed glued to her task.
“No,” I responded, wondering about the change in subject. “His father must be thrilled.”
Madoc had taken music lessons since he was five, specifically the piano. Jason Caruthers wanted his son proficient, but when Madoc turned fifteen—around the time my mom and I moved in—he realized that Daddy really just wanted him to perform. Something else for Mr. Caruthers to brag about and show off.
So Madoc had quit. He refused lessons and threatened to trash the piano if it wasn’t moved out of sight. It was taken down to the basement where it sat with my half-pipe.
But I had always wondered . . .
Madoc did love to play. It was a release for him, or it seemed to be. He usually only practiced at required lessons, but he ran willingly to the piano when he was upset or really happy.
After he quit, he started doing stupid shit without that release anymore: hanging around that asswipe Jared Trent, bullying Tatum Brandt, breaking into the school to steal car parts, which no one knew about but me.
“Oh, I doubt his father knows,” Addie continued. “Madoc still won’t perform or take lessons. It’s more of an in-the-dead-of-the-night thing when the whole house is asleep and no one can see or hear him.” She stopped and looked up at me. “But I hear him. The light tinkling of the keys trails upstairs from the basement. It’s very faint. Almost as if it’s a ghost that can’t decide whether to stay or go.”
I thought of Madoc playing alone downstairs in the dead of night. What kind of songs did he play? Why did he do it?
And then I remembered the Madoc from last night. The one who’d insinuated that I was a freeloading slut.
And the rapid beat of my heart slowed to a dull thud.
“When did he start playing again?” I asked, looking out to the patio where he talked on his phone.
“Two years ago,” she said softly. “The day you left.”
CHAPTER 5
MADOC
Now I understood why Jared drowned himself in constant partying over Tate. Distractions were useful. If you had too much on your mind, then you could push your thoughts away with noise, liquor, and girls and keep moving forward at lightning speed. When my friend slowed down long enough to think, that’s when he got into trouble. But eventually things worked out for them. He pushed her, and she started pushing back. He kept pushing, and she finally knocked him on his ass.
Fallon and I were a lot like them. Only I didn’t love her, and she didn’t love me. I was infatuated with her once—and loved that she let me take my pubescent urges out on her—but we weren’t in love.
We were two people in a f**ked-up family taking our cues from f**ked-up parents.
And neither one of us knew how to do anything differently.
She stomped up to her room after pancakes, and I got ready for my party that was starting mid-afternoon but going ’til the next morning if I had anything to say about it.
I hoped that she’d show up, and at the same time I wanted her far away from me.
Fallon affected my body in weird ways.
But only because she’s different, I told myself.
The last time I saw her she was sleeping on the leather couch in the theater room wearing only my T-shirt. She had twisted her lips up as she rubbed her nose in her sleep, and I remember thinking how much I couldn’t stand her during the day but how much I wanted her when she put her forked tongue away at night.
Everyone at school thought she was a freak. They definitely thought she was a lesbian. And none of the guys thought she was hot.
Pretty? Sure. Even with the beanies that covered her head and the glasses that hid her eyes.
But not hot. Her piercings were scary to them, and her clothes were an embarrassment to any guy calling her his girlfriend.
Only I knew the truth. I’d seen her without the clothes—accidentally of course—and I knew what she covered up.
But that was two years ago. She wasn’t sexy to me anymore.
Now she was lethal. Despite her pale Irish ancestry, her skin was golden with the most beautiful sprinkle of freckles across her nose and under her eyes. Her hair had been colored. Whereas before it was a dull, light brown, now it was about three different shades of brown with some modest chunks of blond blended in.
Her green eyes stood out more than I remembered, and it took clenching every muscle in my body this morning to look like I wasn’t checking her out. Seeing her walk into the kitchen in her pj’s, looking like she’d been blissfully f**ked all night long, made me hot.
But what-the-fuck-ever. That ship between us sailed long ago, and there was no way she’d redeem the damage she’d done.
“No one drives.” Addie pointed a finger at me as I set up my laptop and hauled my speakers outside onto the patio in preparation for the party.
I gave a halfhearted salute and shooed her away. “Go watch your reruns of The L Word.”
She rolled her eyes before walking up the stairs to her bedroom on the third floor.
We weren’t that pretentious that we kept the servants so far away from us. It was just that Addie was our only live-in, and the third floor was like an apartment in itself, complete with a kitchen, two bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a living area. It wasn’t always like that, but my father had it converted for Addie when he realized he wouldn’t let her go in his lifetime.
Fallon had taken off on her sport bike late this morning and had come back around one. Other than that, I hadn’t seen her. And by three thirty, my house was slammed with just about everyone from my graduating class. Jax arrived early on, helping me set up and put out the food I had had delivered. I saw Jared’s car parked on the side of the house, which meant Tate and he were in their room—the one I gave them so they could have “alone time” without her dad on their case.
Screw him. They’re in love, and I loved them like family, so mi casa es su casa.
“Come on, dude. Hurry up,” Jax pressed, carrying the tap for the keg while I grabbed the cups. Everyone filtered in and out of the house and in and out of the pool, enjoying the balmy afternoon.
“Jamison,” I called out to Ben, who was in the pool hitting on Kendra Stevens. “Don’t even think about it, man. I’ve already been there,” I teased.
“Shut up, Madoc. You wish,” she shot back, flying her hand across the water, trying to splash me.
“Hey, you were good, baby.” I shrugged, following Jax to where the keg sat. “For a fat chick, you didn’t sweat much.”
Ben’s eyes bugged out and Kendra screamed, “Madoc!” She kicked her skinny legs on the raft, spilling her drink.
I turned back to Jax, who was silently laughing so hard his face was turning red.
Pulling the seal off the keg and plugging in the nozzle, Jax poured about five bags of ice into the bucket around the keg, while I began pumping and pouring out the first few cups of foam.
“Hey, Madoc.” Hannah and her friend Lexi came up to my side. “Jax.” They nodded to him while he did no more than nod back.
“What’s up, ladies?” I asked, taking a gulp of beer.
“Are you having a good summer, Madoc?” Hannah asked as if we hadn’t just seen each other last night.
“Absolutely. You?”
“Pretty good so far,” she answered and put her hands on her hips, making her chest more prominent. “How’s your summer, Jax?”
“Couldn’t be better,” he mumbled, still loading ice.
“Oh, I think it’s going to get a lot better.” She trailed a hand down his back, and I saw him stiffen. Her meaning was clear. “See you around,” she taunted, and she and Lexi walked off.
I laughed again under my breath and took another gulp.
Jax was getting a lot of attention at school, and with Jared off the market and me leaving for college, I was pretty confident Jax could handle the workload. It really depended on his mood, though. Sometimes he went all predator with a seek-and-destroy mentality. Other times he acted like he’d rather pull out his toenails than talk to certain girls.
“Resistance is futile, Jax.” I slapped him on the back. “Don’t let them scare you. Just enjoy the ride.”
“Give me a break.” He stood up straight, throwing the empty bag aside. “I’ve been ha**ng s*x longer than you. I just don’t like women like that.” He stared off into the crowd across the pool. “They see me as a toy.”
I handed him a beer. “And what’s wrong with that?”
His jaw twitched, and his voice was quiet. “I just don’t like it.”
Jax wasn’t scared of women by any means, and while I knew he’d had a hard life, I often wondered if I really knew what the hell “a hard life” was like. I’d caught on after more than a few clues that Jared and Jax’s dad—who was currently in jail—had abused them physically. Jax more so, because he grew up with the man, whereas Jared had only spent one summer with him.