“Yeah,” said Gabriel. “Nick took the car.”
Michael didn’t even look up from the screen. “Huh. Didn’t you do the same thing this morning?”
“Don’t talk to me like I’m a little kid.”
Now his brother’s eyes flicked up. “I’m sorry, was that a mature adult punching the front door?”
Gabriel took a step forward, ready to let loose with something biting and acerbic, something that would start a fight to take the edge off this anger.
But then he realized he might—just might—be able to work this out.
He dropped into the chair across from his brother. “Would you let me borrow the truck?”
Michael laughed, but not like it was really funny. “The last time you ‘borrowed’ the truck, I got a call from the cops at three in the morning.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Gabriel paused. “Please.”
Michael was already looking back at the laptop. “I need the truck this afternoon. I was going to run to Home Depot.”
God, like he couldn’t do that later. “Come on, Michael. Please.”
Now his brother really looked at him. Gabriel never asked him for anything. Ever.
“Where do you need to go?”
Gabriel warred with telling the truth—but Michael was more likely to say yes if he knew it was for school. “I’m picking up someone from my math class. We’re coming back here to study.”
“Try again.”
Gabriel sighed. “Really.” At Michael’s raised eyebrows, he emphasized, “Really. Why would I make that up?”
Michael studied him for an eternal minute. Then he closed the laptop. “Okay.”
Gabriel almost fell out of his chair. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.” Michael stood. “Let’s go.”
Wait a minute. “You’re not—”
“Driving? Yeah, I am. We’ll pick up this someone, I’ll bring you back here, and then I’ll go to Home Depot.”
This was some kind of punishment. Or retaliation. Had to be. “Look, if you’re just going to grill me about the fires—”
“No grilling. We can’t afford for something to happen to the truck.” Michael was already heading for the garage. “This is the best you’re going to get. Take it or leave it.”
Gabriel couldn’t believe he had to get a ride from his brother. Christ, this was humiliating. They’d always had a car. He’d never needed to beg a ride to pick a girl up.
Especially to study.
He felt about thirteen. Maybe Michael would offer to take them for ice cream, after.
“Hey,” he said when they were halfway there. “I need you to do me a favor.”
“Another one?”
“Please don’t be mean to this girl.”
“Aha.” Michael glanced over. “I knew this had to be a girl.”
“Look . . . just . . . she’s not like that, okay?”
“So not only do I have to play chauffeur, but I have to be nice, too?” Michael’s voice was full of sarcasm, but it lacked the usual edge.
Gabriel didn’t trust this new niceness—but if he snapped at Michael, his brother might abort the whole operation. “Maybe it would be best if you just didn’t talk to her at all.”
Michael fell silent for a while, and trees raced by. Finally, he said, “How bad is it?”
“How bad is what?”
“Math.”
“It’s fine,” Gabriel lied. “I just don’t want to fall behind.”
Michael glanced over. “You think you’ll be able to get back on the team?”
“Damn it.” Gabriel scowled. “I can’t believe Nick told you.”
“He didn’t. I’ve been waiting to see if you’d tell me yourself.”
Like that would ever happen. “Chris, then?”
Michael shook his head. “Your teacher called.”
“She what?”
“I don’t know why you guys are so surprised when the school calls me.”
Gabriel couldn’t believe this. “God, I hate her.”
Michael fell silent again, but this time it was weighted, like he wanted to say something. Gabriel wasn’t about to give him an excuse to lecture, so he kept his mouth shut and stared out the window.
“I used to hate it,” Michael finally said. “Your teachers would call me all the time. Especially in middle school. I mean, these were people who’d taught me, and four years later, they’re calling to ask me to control my little brothers. Every frigging day, another hassle. A fight. A missed assignment. Come in and sign this form, come down and fill out this paperwork. It used to make me nuts.”
Boo-hoo. Gabriel didn’t look away from the window.
He wondered if Michael was looking for an apology. He wasn’t getting one.
“By the time you and Nick hit freshman year, I thought it would settle down. But then I had middle school teachers and high school teachers calling me. I remember that October, I was trying to figure out how the hell to file a tax return for the business, and Vickers called me up to tell me Nick had gotten in a fight in the locker room.”
Vickers was the guidance counselor. Gabriel remembered that day, one of the few days Nick had actually been involved in a fight, when he wasn’t just taking the fall for Gabriel.
It wasn’t really a fight at all. Seth and Tyler had cornered Nick after gym class. They’d beaten the crap out of him.
Gabriel had switched places with Nick the next day. Seth and Tyler backed off after that.
He’d had no idea Vickers ever called the house.
“I hated that stupid cow when I went to school there,” Michael said. “I used to think she was useless. So when she called up to whine about Nick, I went off on her. Told her I was sick of her and every other teacher always getting on my case, setting me up to fail. I completely lost it. I’m surprised she didn’t hang up on me.”
Michael hit the turn signal for Compass Pointe. “When I finally shut up, she said something I’ll never forget. She said, ‘We’re not setting you up to fail. We’re calling because we want to help you succeed.’”
Gabriel stared at him for a long moment, waiting, hoping there was more. But his brother didn’t say anything else.
Gabriel rolled his eyes and looked back out the window. “That is the dumbest story I’ve ever heard.”
“All I’m saying is, I don’t think your teacher is trying to hassle you.”
“Yes. She is.” But Gabriel kept thinking of Nick’s comments about graduation.
He kept thinking about Layne’s expression when she’d figured out he was cheating.
It made him want to shrink down in the seat.
Michael glanced over. “At least you’re doing something about it.”
“Whatever.”
Michael sighed. “Which house?”
Gabriel pointed. Layne’s house was immaculate in the sunshine, all white pillars and stone facing that reminded Gabriel of her comment about a serial killer living there. Perfect landscaping, too, though he’d bet Michael had already spotted twenty areas where the workers had cut corners and used crap plants.
Gabriel was unbuckling his seat belt and trying to figure how to spin the transportation issue, when Layne came flying out the front door.
Jeans. Forest-green turtleneck. Braid. Glasses. After the getup she’d been wearing last night, it reminded him of those superhero cartoons he’d watched when he was a little kid. The ones where only a few select people got to know what hid behind the meek-mannered exterior.
How had he never realized how hot she was?
She hesitated halfway to the truck, noticing that he wasn’t alone. Gabriel slid out of the cab.