Wild Wind: A Chaos Novella (Chaos #6.6)(48)

“He’s what?”

“He does chicks. He does dudes. He does dudes and chicks together. He does trans. He fucks whoever he thinks is pretty. And he thinks a lot of people are pretty.”

Well, that answered a question that hadn’t been burning in Jag, but he had it.

“The fact remains it’s uncool to call people names,” Archie went on. “Especially people who have been awesome with you.”

“Yeah,” Jag agreed.

“I think Mal looks up to you,” she told him. “He asked me the other day when you were coming around again.”

That surprised Jag.

“No shit?” Jagger asked.

She shook her head. “No shit.”

“Is he in the library?”

“The what?”

“The library, your book section.”

She smiled at him. “I dig you call it that.”

“I dig you dig that, baby. But can you answer the question?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Last I saw of him, he headed in there. He reads. This is another reason I know something is up. When he gets into his head, he gets into it with a book. Problem with that is, we have homework time right after school and he starts reading and doesn’t do his homework. Which is how this all began. I asked him about his homework, he wasn’t cool with me. Fabe waded in. And it went south from there.”

Jag drew in a breath to gain some cool at the thought that Mal gave her shit, then he bent, touched his lips to her forehead, and made his way to the library.

He found Mal in that mini-maze of shelves, sitting in an old armchair, nose in a book.

He didn’t miss Jag showing, his eyes flicking Jag’s way, then he made a point of ignoring him, shifting in the chair to send a shoulder Jag’s way.

Jag tamped down his annoyance and evened out his voice when he said, “Soda fountain, bud. Now.”

“I don’t want nothin’,” Mal mumbled, not meeting Jag’s eyes.

“I didn’t ask,” Jagger replied. “Let’s go.”

There was more belligerence in it when Mal turned fully to him and snapped, “I told you, don’t want nothin’.”

“Ass to a stool, I’m making you a malt.”

“I don’t got money for a malt,” Mal retorted.

“I’m buying,” Jag offered.

“That’d be awesome, if I wanted something. But…I…do…not.”

“So sit with me while I have a cherry Coke.”

With that, Mal lost it.

“Why can’t you just fuck off?” he bit.

And Jag immediately leaned over him, it was threatening, and he meant it to be, but it was the wrong call.

Mal lurched back into the seat, his eyes widening in fear.

Okay, where did that response come from?

Jag eased back an inch physically as well as with his attitude and again modulated his voice when he said, “I give a shit. I was at work, Arch texted, and I jumped on my bike to listen to what you might have to say. You don’t have anything to say, all right. But I’m havin’ a cherry Coke and I’m makin’ you a malt or whatever you want and we’re gonna just be. But we’re doing it together. You with a guy who cares and me there to listen if you decide to talk. So, will you go to the soda fountain with me?”

Mal took a minute with that before he nodded.

Jagger straightened, and Mal slithered out of the chair.

They walked together to the fountain, or Jagger walked, Mal slunk.

He didn’t miss Archie watching them, Joany standing beside her.

Archie looked worried. Joany looked irritated (and worried).

They were part of Mal’s village.

And so was Fabe.

Mal just needed to get that.

That and the fact that you didn’t shit in your village.

“Hop up,” he muttered when they got to the fountain.

Mal hoisted himself up on a stool.

Jagger went behind the counter. “What do you want?”

“Chocolate shake, made with syrup, not chocolate ice cream.”

That was specific for a kid who didn’t want anything.

Jag didn’t comment on that.

He put his hands to his hips and stared at the stuff behind the counter, primarily the old-fashioned three-rod shake machine, then he looked at Mal. “Do you know how to work any of this shit?”

Mal stared at him open mouthed a second, then he cracked a smile.

Okay, the smile was good.

But Jag didn’t comment on that either.

Out of nowhere, Archie ordered, “Sit down, you goof, I’ll make your stuff.”

Jag watched Mal clam up completely in the face of Archie.

He then gave her a look.

She mouthed, “I’ll hurry.”

Jag rounded the counter, sliding a finger across her hip as he did, then rested his ass on a stool by Mal’s.

She didn’t lie. She hurried.

Mal avoided watching her.

It wasn’t that long ago Jag had been Mal’s age so he knew what was going on with this.

He was crushing, huge.

So much, whatever was fucking with his head had come out in an ugly way, a way that he’d disappointed her, and now he was embarrassed he’d acted like a dick.

When Jag had his cherry Coke, Mal had his shake, and Arch had taken off, he let Mal have a couple of swallows before he admitted, “All right, kid, I lied.”