1 6
New Friends
Jalen does half of what I wanted. He drives me home, but the words apology accepted still aren't said. Nothing's said at all. It's unbearably silent between us.
"I can practically see the curiosity in your fucking eyes."
I shove the helmet into his awaiting hands. "Can you blame me? I mean, honestly, what the fuck just happened, Jalen?"
He gives a one shoulder shrug, remaining seated on his bike, ready to take off any second. I purposely step in front of his path.
If he wants to get away, he's gotta run me over.
"Who was that guy?" I decide is the safest thing to ask.
"Don't worry about it," he shrugs off.
"I didn't say I was worried," I reply, though I can't deny the nervousness I felt as Jalen zoomed off as quick as possible just to avoid whoever that was. "I just want to know who we were running from."
"We didn't run from anybody," he counters.
"No? So, you just ran three red lights for fun?" I ask in a dry tone.
He nods. "I run red lights all the time, actually."
"Of course you do." I roll my eyes and fold my arms. "But, seriously, what just happened? Why were you at a law firm, again?"
Jalen lets out a quick laugh of disbelief. "You're really something else. You beg me to talk to you. Make me feel bad for not having the time too. And then, when I'm almost late to a meeting because I had to bring you with me so you wouldn't fucking cry, you turn it into an investigation."
My fists clench at his tone, and at his words. For someone who doesn't want to be pitied or felt sorry for, he sure as hell has no problem making me feel that way.
"I'm not turning anything into an investigation," I grind out through clenched teeth. "I'm just asking questions."
"That's all you fucking do. Ask me question, after question, after question," he drags out in an exasperated tone.
"Well, stop being so goddamn shady and I won't have too!"
"Why can't you just learn to mind your business?"
I step back onto the curb, no longer blocking his path to leave. "To quote your lovely words from the other day, fuck you."
Jalen brings his hands up to his face, letting them rub over his eyes, before dragging them down, until they land on the front fork of his motorcycle. "I shouldn't have said that to you."
I examine him after he speaks, noticing just how exhausted he looks. "Is that an apology...?"
He gives me another tired look. "Was what you said earlier an apology?"
My jaw drops. "You're not sure if it was? What, me saying sorry a bunch of times didn't register with you?"
"It didn't really sound sincere," he says with a laugh, but I can't tell if there's any humor behind it.
"For fuck's sake," I groan. "I'm sorry for calling you stupid, Jalen. It will not happen again. But I am not sorry for calling you an asshole."
Jalen tilts his head to the side, like a puppy. "When did you call me an asshole?"
"Oh, must've only said that in my head. Never mind."
Jalen's blue eyes roll at my words, but it's obvious that whatever tension and annoyance that was building up between us seconds ago is gone.
"Understandable," he finally mutters. "No more questions about what just happened, okay?"
Rather than sounding demanding, he sounds pleading, so I nod my head and remain silent for a moment.
"Okay, no more questions about it," I finally say. "So, how long have you known you were dyslexic?"
Jalen sends me an incredulous look. "Were you not listening two seconds ago when I said not to ask, and you agreed with me?"
"That was about the guy in the suit, though," I state.
"No, it was about everything," he says slowly.
I shake my head. "I can't not ask questions about two things. That's just expecting too much. Pick which one you wanna talk about today."
He stares at me, no emotion whatsoever on his face. I worry for a second we'll get back to exchanging somewhat harsh words again, but after a moment, Jalen's pink lips curl up into a tiny smile. I have no idea what's gone through his head to make him bless me with such a sight, but it makes me happy nonetheless.
He's gonna answer me. I won.
"You get one question, that's it," he says with finality.
I grin widely. "Okay, give me a second to think."
The guy in the suit should weigh on my mind more, but for some reason, learning everything I can about Jalen's dyslexia matters more to me.
Clearly, my priorities are not in order.
"How did you find out you're dyslexic?" This seems like a broad enough question that'll force him to answer with something elaborate.
"Someone told me," he says dryly.
"Wait, no! What kind of bullshit answer was that?" I shout, grabbing onto his arm that's reaching for the ignition key.
"Even when I answer, you're still never satisfied," he states, looking me up and down. "You're a hard woman to please, Lyndon Prince."
"I think you just don't know how to please a woman, Jalen Uccello," I mutter.
"Come find out," he says with a smirk.
"Answer my question properly, and I just might."
I don't miss the way his eyes slightly widen, before he quickly recovers and smirks again. "Promise?"
My stomach twists in knots, but I push it aside and hold out my pinky. "Promise."
He links his with mine, making our hands touch, and I can't help noticing how much larger and warmer his are when compared to mine. They linger together a second longer, before Jalen's pulling away and sighing.
"I was diagnosed by a psychologist when I was eleven," he starts, eyes casted down to the street. "Had a feeling something was off before that, though."
"How long before that?" I ask lowly.
Jalen's mouth opens, ready to answer, before he seems to stop himself. His eyes find mine seconds later, and though I'd usually get lost within that beautiful blue ocean, today, right now, I'm unable too. Instead, I find myself wondering how someone can manage to look so sad without shedding a single tear.
There's so much sadness in his eyes that it makes me want to cry.
"A while before," he finally says. "And that was another question, Lyndon. Which wasn't apart of our deal."
I'm ready to ask a hundred more. I can feel them on the tip of my tongue, wanting to know exactly what his dyslexia is like, since it can be different for everyone that has it. I want to know how he copes, how can he speak Italian, how did he learn to play the piano, how does he feel when he tries reading. I'm itching to ask, but I know I can't. He won't answer, and I don't want to push him. At least, not right now.
"Fine. I suppose you upheld your end, so I'll do the same," I say, slowly moving away from him and his bike, knowing I need to go google any and every thing I can about dyslexia since he obviously won't tell me. "What does that entail, exactly?"
His blue eyes watch my every step, a smirk instantly taking over his face, washing away any trace of the sadness that had been there. "It entails you finding out if I know how to please a woman."
My stomach flips, and I stop moving. "And how am I going to do that?"
His smirk widens, a glint of amusement coming to his eyes after. "I'll think of something."
"Great," I announce in a dry tone, trying to mask the nervousness and excitement I'm feeling at whatever he'll think of.
I hear a car turning the corner of my block, one that I recognize as my father's. My eyes widen almost comically, as I try not panicking at my dad finding Jalen on a motorcycle in front of our house. I may not care what he thinks, but that still won't stop him from giving his opinionâeither to me or directly to Jalen's face.
"You should go," I say to Jalen, motioning with my hand toward my father's car.
Jalen understands and nods, putting his helmet on and then revving the engine to his motorcycle. He stops suddenly, lifting the front of the helmet off so he can look at me clearly. He watches me for a moment, making me want to take my shoe off and chuck it at him until he gets the message that he needs to leave now.
"What?" I whisper-shout, not wanting to draw the attention of my father who's busting a U-turn in order to get into our driveway.
Thankfully, he hasn't noticed his daughter and the boy on the motorcycle one house down. Shows how great of a dad he truly is, huh?
Jalen hesitates, looking all around before bringing his eyes to me once more. "I'll... um... I'll see you tomorrow?"
What was meant to come out as a statement sounded a lot more like a question. I've never seen Jalen sound so unsure of himself. I've painted this picture of him in my mind as a confident, cool, good looking kid who apparently gets away with a lot more than he should because of those three things.
But right now, he looks like a regular high school teenager, unsure of himself and the world around him.
He looks like me and any other teenager out there just trying to figure themselves out.
And in this very moment, as I ignore the sound of my father exiting his car and take in Jalen's awaiting face, I realize I am totally screwed.
I can say Jalen's my friend, or whatever we've become, all I want. I can pretend I'm being logical and giving myself time to heal from my relationship with Liam. I can act like the rumors at school and Cortney's words are warning me away. But I know it's not true.
I know I've found Jalen attractive from the night we met, and now I know it's not just those good looks that are making me try to keep him around.
I like Jalen Uccello. A lot.
"Yes," I smile. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Jalen smiles back, and unless I'm imagining things due to this new fuzzy feeling I'm having, I see him breathe a sigh of relief at my words. He takes off seconds later.
"Who was that?"
I turn around, coming face to face with my father, who's standing by the front door with a briefcase in one hand and his phone in the other. His phone is held up to his ear, but his eyes are on me, letting me know who his words were directed at.
Seeing him like this makes me want to scream. I'm brought back to when I was eleven, and all he did was go to work for long hours, come home to say a few words to my brothers and I, and then spend the rest of the night on the phone with clients.
That was when he'd actually bother to come home. Some nights he wouldn't return at all, and though that drove my mother crazy, and worried my poor brothers, I liked it better that way. I preferred his absence over his barely there presence.
Another reason I didn't want to come back here. I didn't want to live with him again. We're back to quick chats as he's in between business calls.
I roll my eyes and push past him, deciding he doesn't deserve to know what's going on in my life.
"Lyndon," he calls from behind me. For a second, I'm ready to turn around, feeling I've had enough running for one day. "Hello, yes. This is Nicholas Prince."
Of course he's answering another call. Nothing's changed.
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"Are you sure about this?"
The warm hand Jalen places on my lower back does nothing to ease the nerves I'm feeling. In fact, it only multiplies them, as my school shirt is so thin that I can practically feel Jalen's fingers pressing against my skin.
"How else will you uphold your end of our promise?"
I steal a quick glance at him, taking note of how soft his jet black hair looks, even the few strands that lightly fall on his forehead. I also notice how different he looks just from yesterday. He looks well rested, nothing like the troubled, tired boy I spoke with.
He looks beautiful and happy, and that makes me happy. And it also makes me worried, because I'm focusing too much on him and not enough on where he's guiding me.
"And how does sitting with your friends help me do that?" I ask, freezing in place, causing Jalen to stop as well.
He shrugs his shoulders. "You'll get to know me better."
I'm not following his logic, not seeing at all how sitting with him and his friends at lunch relates to our little promise.
This must show on my face, because Jalen sighs and pushes me lightly with his hand that's remained on me, causing us to both start walking again. "Come on, sit with me."
"I knew it," I say teasingly. "You just want me to sit with you. Don't use the promise as a cover."
Jalen chuckles. I quickly look at him again, wanting to watch his dimple appear. "Actually, I'm trying to save you from yourself. If you don't sit with me, you might go back to the bleachers, and we both know how that turned out."
I shove him away from me and scoff. "Oh my gosh, that was one time."
Jalen's laugh echoes through the hall as we reach the door to the cafeteria. "I still don't know how you were okay after that."
I bite the inside of my cheek, making sure I don't give myself away and let him know how not okay I was after that fall. I woke up this morning with a bruise on my arm and two on my leg. It doesn't help that I cringe every time I remember I was in a skirt the entire time, letting anyone who saw my fall also see my damn underwear.
Meaning, Jalen. Jalen saw it all. Twice.
"Let's just, uh, not talk about it," I finally say, picking up my pace and reaching for the door. Jalen's hand falls away from my back as we enter, but everyone's eyes stay glued to us. "Oh wow."
Jalen looks at me. "Ignore them."
Easier said than done, buddy.
At least when they look at Jalen, it's mostly admiring. Maybe some are a little curious about the mystery that he is, but still, it's never bad looks.
With me, however, it's always bad looks. I have girls I've never even see before glaring at me, and even some guys! I can't tell if the looks are from jealousy, or just pure annoyance at my existence.
I take a deep breath in and out, listening to Jalen and Malia's advice from before. As long as no one's saying anything to my face, it's all good. These people never will, so I have nothing to worry about.
"Here," Jalen directs, stopping at a table with five people sitting.
You've got to be motherfucking kidding me.
Both David and Cortney are here. The two people who actually will say something to me. Jalen's out of his fucking mind if he thinks I'mâ
"Dedra, hey!" I shout once I notice her, completely contradicting myself and taking a seat once Jalen does.
Maybe we're both out of our minds.
"Hey, boo," she greets, wrapping one arm around my shoulder in a half-hug.
"What the fuck is this?" David asks, ever so politely.
"Hey, Davey," I wave.
I have no idea where that came from, but for some reason, I'm doing everything I can to just keep talking. That'll stop me from overthinking.
"Davey," David repeats in a disgusted tone, leaning over Dedra so he can see me. "I don't like it. Try something else."
"Well, I don't like Boulevard, yet you insist on calling me it," I quickly say.
"You are really testing my patience," he states.
"I really do not care," I answer.
We stare at each other for a moment, before David looks toward Jalen and then leans back, placing a casual hand over the back of Dedra's chair. "I already told you, you're on my shitlist, Boulevard. You're just making it worse for yourself."
I turn to Jalen, wondering what that look they exchanged was about, but his eyes are still on David.
When I turn back that way, I see Malia reaching across the table to place a hand on both mine and David's. "Settle down, children. It's pizza day."
David let's out a laugh at the tone she uses. Dedra puts her own arm around David's shoulders after, saying, "Come on, let's go get the food."
David looks at her in shock. "Why? Mike will do it."
He motions with his head to another table, and I notice it's the kid from our health class, whom David had getting him his food yesterday.
"We're capable of getting our own. Come on," Dedra demands.
Across the table, Malia lets out a dainty laugh. Dedra's attention snaps her way, anger clear as day in her dark eyes, but the second they land on Malia's own dark brown, the fire within her simmers out. Malia raises one perfectly arched eyebrow, and that's all it takes for Dedra's shoulders to drop, turning back to David with a pout.
David groans in annoyance, but rises from his seat seconds later. "We'll go get the food. You assholes want anything? No, okay, cool," he quickly says before anyone can answer. As he and Dedra begin moving, he stops behind my seat and places a hand on my shoulder that I immediately shake off. "Are you thirsty, Boulevard?"
I turn and look up at him. "No, Davey, I am not."
"Could've fooled me," he says with a wide grin before finally leaving.
Malia's directly across from me, so naturally, I turn to her in shock first. I'd expect her to at least acknowledge my existence and maybe comment on what David just implied, but rather than being a friend, or hell being a fucking cousin, she refuses to make eye contact, focusing on her phone.
When I look at Jalen, I feel myself ready to scream, or cry, whichever comes first. Because he's looking at Cortney, who's sitting on the opposite side of the table with some girl I don't know.
"There's a home game tonight?" Jalen casually asks her.
He cannot be serious right now. Is he really talking to her?
Cortney looks at him, and I expect her to make googly eyes or blow him a kiss or run and throw herself in his lap, but instead, she merely narrows her eyes and replies in an uninterested tone, "Yup."
I can't help letting my eyes stay in her direction, confused as to why she's acting like a completely different person. The Cortney I saw in the hallway would've told me to leave by now. This Cortney hasn't even looked my way.
"Does this one count toward the championship?"
Jalen, stop fucking talking to her!
I can't tell who I want to smack more. Him, for not shutting up, or myself, for even caring.
Ugh, fuck it. I'm allowed to care. I like the damn boy, and he told me he was single. So why is he talking to her?
"Tonight's the first one," Cortney nods at him, letting her eyes linger longer this time. Still, I see no interest. No care to keep the conversation going.
This is when I notice she's wearing a cheerleading uniform, and so is the girl across from her. And at the table right next to this one is a bunch of other girls in the same maroon uniform.
Jalen nods back, before directing his gaze to me, effectively ending that conversation. He looks unbothered, as if that whole interaction was completely normal.
And I'm left more confused than ever. Why would Cortney come at me like that in the halls, but not care to say more than five words to Jalen now? Especially while I'm here?
"You like pizza?" Jalen asks me with an innocent smile.
I realize he's motioning toward David and Dedra, who are already returning with a couple plates of the food. I guess that means they skipped that long ass line with no problem, and ended up bringing back for everybody.
"Bon appétit, bitches," David announces as he drops the plates onto the table.
Dedra giggles, taking the seat next to me again, wrapping an arm around my shoulder once more and saying, "Dig in."
So I do, ignoring all my new questions and the eyes of everyone in the cafeteria following my every damn move.
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I finally go home around five o'clock. I've realized Dad's begun making a habit out of getting home at the time we do from school for a quick lunch. I'm tired of seeing his face, so when Dedra asked me to go with her to get her nails done, I happily agreed.
Now, all I want is to eat something and head to bed. I'm tired as hell.
"I thought you bought a plane ticket back to Florida," a voice announces obnoxiously from the hallway to our bedrooms.
I turn in that direction, seeing my baby brother leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, face scrunched up in annoyance.
"Is that what you want me to do?" I ask as I kick off my flats and make my way to the kitchen.
Knox pushes off the wall and steps into the kitchen as well. "It's what Mom was worried you'd end up doing. Why were you out so late?"
I glance at the time on the stove and then out the window. "Am I high, or is it not five o'clock and still bright out?"
Knox rolls his eyes, and for a second, I see Noah. Damn, we all look like triplets.
"Why do you have to be such a pain?" Knox asks, but it sounds rhetorical, as he turns away to grab a water bottle, clearly not expecting an answer.
Too bad, I'll give him one anyway.
"Why do you have to act like you're my parent? Take the stick out of your ass, for once."
"Sticks and asses, my two favorite topics," Noah says giddily as he enters the kitchen from who knows where.
I ignore him and start gathering the ingredients to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
"Lyndon, we need to talk," Knox says seriously.
"Uh oh," Noah says in a stage whisper. "I think he's breaking up with you."
I begin making my sandwich, turning toward Knox with a pout and saying, "Please let me eat before you ruin my appetite with your bullshit."
I watch as Knox clenches his fists, but it's nothing new. He's always easily angered by Noah and I. He may look like us and Dad, but he's just like our mother.
"The only one ruining anything around here with their bullshit is you, Lyndon," Knox says in a louder voice, making me stop spreading the jelly on my bread and look at him confused.
"Woah, cálmese," Noah says jokingly, reaching a hand out toward Knox.
Our baby brother dodges Noah's touch, walking closer to me as he says, "I've been hearing way too much shit about you in school. And now, it's all about our family."
I drop my knife and sandwich. "What about our family?"
I glance toward Noah, who's amused expression from earlier has dropped, seriousness and worry only present on his face, just as it is on Knox's and mine.
Once again, the three of us look eerily similar to one another.
"I keep hearing people talking about the Prince family, and who our parents are, and why we moved. They're saying some fucked up shit about Malia and Titi Talia, too, but apparently that's been going on for a while. More people care about the Prince's now."
"Is there anything specific that they're saying?" Noah asks in a harder tone, quickly going into protective mode the minute his family's involved.
"Just that it all started because of Lyndon messing around with some guy," Knox practically spits out the words, looking at me with annoyance after.
Before I can smack that look off of Knox's face, I'm being tugged away by Noah, who's grip on my arm is pressing roughly into my bruise.
"You are messing around with Jalen?" Noah asks, completely pissed off.
"Ouch," I yelp, pushing him away to get his hand off my bruise and because his tone is annoying me. He doesn't know Jalen, he only knows the rumors.
"Lynnie," he stresses the syllables, wanting an answer.
"No," I say, technically not lying because we aren't messing around. I like him, but I have no idea how he feels about me, and I'm too damn scared of the answer to even think about asking. "But we're friends, so we hang out around school. Relax."
"Just being friends with him, or any of them, isn't good, Lynnie," Noah says. "They seem fishy."
"Fishy?" I ask with a laugh. "The fuck does that mean? And, aren't you friends with Daniel and Elijah? Newsflash, they hang around them, too!"
"You know what group I'm talking about," Noah states, no trace of humor on his face. "Jalen, David, and Malia."
"Our dear cousin?" I ask mockingly, knowing damn well how fishy she is.
Noah sighs, glancing at Knox who's listening to our every word with confusion. He turns back to me, voice low and worry clear as day in his almost-white eyes. "Why does it have to be him?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Total lie. I know what he means, but I don't have a reasonable answer. I can't explain why I like Jalen, or want to be around him. I just do. What's so wrong with that?
"Literally, anybody else but him would be fine," Noah continues on, ignoring my answer. "How about Elijah?"
"How about Elijah for what?" I ask, confused.
Noah takes in my confused expression and rolls his eyes, sighing heavily. "Oh come on, Lynnie."
I shake my head, not getting where he's going with this. Does he think Elijah's an option for me romantically? The idea is almost laughable. Elijah never acts differently toward me. We're just friends.
"I'm so lost," Knox announces, ending the staredown Noah and I were currently having. "What are the kids at school even talking about when they say you're messing with some kid? What happened to you and Liam?"
I roll my eyes instinctively at his name. "We broke up."
I hear an exaggerated gasp from the front door, making me groan in annoyance, Knox perk up with happiness, and Noah's eyes widen at what's about to happen.
"You and Liam broke up? Bebita, what happened?"
My mother's voice only makes me more annoyed, because I really don't want to talk about it, especially since she's using her what's wrong baby voice. Acting as if her moving us here isn't what's caused all my problems.
"Nothing, Mother. We grew apart," I announce with a twirl of my hands, before reaching for my previously abandoned knife and sandwich.
"Are you okay, Lyndon? Did you two get into a fight?" She pries.
"Nope, Ma, just broke up out of nowhere," I answer absentmindedly, focusing on cutting my sandwich in half evenly.
"Was it recent? Are you just taking a break?" She keeps going. "I wish you'd told me as soon as it happened. I know how happy you were. Liam's a great guy."
Noah scoffs from behind me. I look at him with a harsh stare that I'm sure says say anything and you die, motherfucker.
Mom catches the interaction, now turning her investigating to Noah as she asks, "You know what happened?"
Noah looks between Mom and me, settling his gaze on me and then bringing it to my sandwich.
Oh, what a fat fuck!
I subtly nod at him, making him turn toward Mom and say, "They grew apart." Noah then passes her, takes the plate from my outreached hand, and leaves the kitchen, dragging Knox by his t-shirt behind him.
At least it's just me and Mom. I won't be double teamed by her and her little twin.
"Are you really okay, Lyndon?"
No, I am not okay. I wasn't okay when you said we were going to move, I wasn't okay when we actually did, and I certainly am not okay now that we have.
"Yeah," I murmur. "Life goes on."
She places the bags she was holding onto the counter top, making my curious eyes peek inside. Mom blocks my view with her arm. "I got excited and did some early birthday shopping."
I blink, then remember the next birthday coming up is mine. Granted, that's still a few weeks away, but it's the closest one out of everyone else in this house.
"Are those presents for me, or Noah?" I ask as I begin making myself another sandwich.
"No presents, just some decorations," Mom announces, grabbing the bags and moving into the living room to make sure I don't peek.
"Decorations?" I question before licking peanut butter off the knife.
"Lyndon Alessandra, be careful!" Mom shouts when she sees what I'm doing.
I raise my hands in mock surrender, turning to drop the knife into the sink before nodding toward her bags once more.
"Yes, decorations. I wanted to throw a party and invite your friends from back home."
Mom smiles as if this is the greatest idea ever, as if she's spent days planning it out and became so excited by it she couldn't stop herself from starting to prepare.
It sucks that I'm gonna pop that balloon of happiness right now.
But oh well. She did it to me first.
"I don't want that," I state.
"What?" Mom questions, smile still present as she tries to make sense of what I said. "I figured we could fly Beatrice and Jessica up here. I'm sure their parents will say okay. Of course we'd pay, and I'd have to go over every detail with Jessica's parents..."
Mom trails off, laughing as I'm sure she's remembering how unbelievably overbearing the girl's parents are, but that laugh dies down she sees my face. My stone cold face at the mention of Jessica's name.
"I said I don't want that. I don't want them here," I tell her.
"It won't just be them. We can invite any friends you want. We'll have limits with room space, but I figure I'd give you and Noah ten as your limit. Five and five each."
"Mom," I say firmly. I wait until she looks at me before saying as clearly as I can, one more time, "I do not want any of them here. Ever."
She looks shocked and confused, and maybe I should stick around to explain, but I don't feel like it. And that petty part of me that I like to pretend doesn't exist believes that my mother doesn't deserve the explanation.
I don't want to talk about it with her. I've never felt comfortable confiding these things to her.
Bea was who I always went too. Hearing my mom mention her coming here makes me want to cry, because I lost my best friends and my boyfriend because of this move. Sure Bea stills texts me every day to see how I'm doing, but I never answer. She knew what was going on, but she never told me. I can't forgive or forget that.
Plus, I don't need too. They're all in Florida, where they need to stay. I'm here. With new people and... new friends. I don't care what Noah or Knox say, or how weird Malia acts, or how annoyingly rude David is. I still have Daniel, Elijah, Rachel, and now Dedra as my friends.
And Jalen as... my friend. Yeah, just my friend.
I'm fine now without anyone from Beach Way, so I ignore my mother's confused face, grab my plate, and head to my room.