* * *
Whit
It’s December twenty-first. This semester lasted four months, and what a crazy four months it’s been.
Ty took a risk—a crazy risk—and it paid off. Despite all they’ve been through, he and Phoebe couldn’t be happier. And I couldn’t be happier for them. He’s always been the quiet leader of our group. As the oldest—he has me beat by five days—he sees himself as our protector. There’s no doubt we need it, but I’m damn glad Phoebe’s here to protect him too. Even the strongest among us need to be taken care of.
And Knox? Our honorary baby brother has gone from Wild Child to Family Man in the space of a month, but it’s been an amazing transition to witness. Fucker got his ass arrested right after Thanksgiving, found out he had a kid, and now he’s committed to his woman and their baby. Again, they’ve been through some shit, and honestly, I think they still have some issues to resolve. But I’m not playing Love Doctor tonight. Nope.
Tonight is for my boys.
The girls, including baby Rose, are at our friend Ian’s place doing their Secret Santa thing, and drinking cookies and mulled cider.
We’re at The Chapel eating wings and drinking beer. Happy fucking holidays. I’ll head home to my mom’s the day after tomorrow, but I wanted to spend a little time with my found family first. Besides, avoiding Lucy isn’t easy. She’s like a damn magnet. I’m drawn to her, though I know it’s stupid. No matter how many times she rolls her eyes at me or huffs at my stupidity or corrects me for shortening her name, I can’t resist going back for more. Some idiotic part of me longs for the day when she won’t see me as a cartoon-version of myself. But tonight is not a night for pining over what I’ll never have. Hell, I’ve been doing that on the regular lately, so I deserve a night off.
I look around the room—Ty’s on his favorite recliner, and it looks decidedly empty without Phoebe curled into his side. Booker’s sprawled out on the floor, eyes on the pro hockey game. And Knox is lounging on the sofa across from me.
“Who needs more food?” I ask, standing and stretching. Turns out they all want more of my wings, and refills on their drinks too. Book pops up from his spot on the rug and follows me into the kitchen, refilling his water glass before helping me pile four plates with food.
“Wings are killer, as always, man.”
“Thanks,” I tell him. It’s always nice to hear how much my friends love the food I make for them. But that's certainly not why I do it. Feeding people is how I show them that I love them. Ty looks out for all of us, Knox is the most loyal person I know, and no one has a kinder soul than Booker Zabek. Me? I cook.
“You heading out Sunday?”
“Nah, I’m flying out Monday. My parents and sisters are already out in Colorado, so a few more days here is no big deal. And the less I have to witness my dad and Fallon going at it, the better,” Booker grumbles.
“Things still touchy there?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he sighs as we take the plates and drinks back to the living room.
“What’s up?” Ty asks, sensing the tension.
“Nothing new,” Book tells him. “My dad and Fallon are at it again, and while I don’t blame her at all for standing her ground, I switched my flight to Monday, so I’ve got one fewer day to spend with the fam.”
“One fewer day means less time on the ski slopes,” Knox reminds him, taking a drink.
“Their fighting...it drains me, I guess is the best way to put it.” Booker shrugs, and then continues. “I can’t relax when there’s so much underlying tension. Sure, my dad will play nice for the holidays—and the fact that a bunch of other families from church have homes in Vail means we won’t be alone. And I have no doubt my mom will bribe Fallon to act like everything’s fine. But it’s not,” he shakes his head. “It’s bullshit.”
Ty, Knox, and I all share a look. The three of us swear like Merchant Marines in a cussing contest, but Booker never swears. Never. Doesn’t take the Lord’s name in vain or even mutter the word damn when he stubs his toe. Nope. Our golden boy is pure through and through. Very, very pure, I’m beginning to suspect, so this outburst is majorly out of character.
“Damn, Book, you ok?” Knox asks, his voice surprisingly gentle. He wears fatherhood well and it’s softened him up a bit.
“Yeah, sorry,” he laughs. “Didn’t mean to shock you guys. It’s just... She hasn’t had it easy, you know? And he makes everything harder for her. Me, I can handle it, whatever. But Fallon? She doesn’t deserve his mandates and dictates and condescension.”
“Book, you don’t either,” Ty says, his voice laced with concern.
“I know,” Book says. “But it’s different. Fallon...it’s just different.”
It’s not, but we all nod, just to keep him talking. It’s been way too long since Booker opened up like this, and it’s clearly overdue. Hell, the last time I can remember him venting about his family like this was back in high school. The four of us were at Knox’s house, raiding his mom’s liquor cabinet. Well, Booker was drinking Gatorade. And he was bitching that his dad was forcing him to come to Bainbridge, instead of allowing him to go up north to play hockey at a school in Vermont. Ty had been accepted to the same school—they had a great lit program, apparently, and I’d applied too. But there on the back deck of Knox’s house, we all shared a look, and in that moment, we decided, fuck it. If Book was going to BU, so were we.
“He’s still hell-bent on your sister coming to BU?” Knox prompts.
“Yeah, and she’s not having it. I get it—she feels like he’s controlled every aspect of her life, and he has. And there’s a school she really wants to go to—McLaughlin, I think? It’s way the hell out west and a vast majority of the student body is deaf. My dad threw a fit. He wants Fallon here, where he can keep an eye on her, and he wants her to have an interpreter. And both of those things are the exact opposite of what she wants. And like I said, I get it. But he doesn’t. And neither of them is budging. My mom is, of course, in the middle. And Emersyn…” he shakes his head at the mention of his youngest sister.
I laugh, too. “Let me guess, Em told your dad to fuck off.”
“Yeah, that's exactly what she said, so you know how that went over. He’s got her set up with some spiritual guide from church. It’s just...a lot, you know? But never mind the Zabek family drama. What’s up with you guys?”
