CROSS (A Gentry Boys Novella)(36)

“Conway?” Stone asked and there was a note of pleading in his voice.

I wanted to hit him so badly. “So you were talking. I bet you guys had a lot to discuss one on one late at night. So were you discussing politics? Shakespeare? Enlighten me.”

He shook his head and looked miserable. “No. It wasn’t anything important. We talked about you, about school.”

“You hate school.”

He frowned. He reached for the pack of cigarettes sitting on the nightstand, but when he removed one it was broken. Stone shook his head ruefully and tossed the pack in the garbage before sighing. “I swear, there wasn’t anything weird going on. You’re just going to have to take my word for it.”

I pushed my wallet in my back pocket. “I’ve got to get to work.”

“Con.”

“No. Fuck you, Stone. Let me know when the truth feels like coming out of your mouth.”

He threw something at the door after I slammed it. Good. Let him be pissed. I was tired of being the only one who was pissed off.

I only stopped in the kitchen to grab whatever could stand in as breakfast. My mother was pacing around in there with the phone stuck to her ear and lots of “Oh my gods” coming out of her mouth. But she said it in a way that I knew she was more amused than bothered about whatever the subject was. She scowled at me as I grabbed a few slices of stale white bread. There wasn’t much more than exhaustion and the usual contempt in her expression though so I wasn’t sure she even remembered the terrible things she’d said last night.

Then she turned her back, heaved a giant sigh and dripped with self-righteous fakery as she cooed, “Lord rest her soul, poor Maggie. Got to say though I figured she’d fall to Benton’s fury a long time before this.”

No, she definitely didn’t remember last night. She wouldn’t have uttered Benton’s name so casually this morning if she did. I knew who Maggie was too. Benton’s wife, and the triplets’ junkie mother. She hadn’t been seen around town much in years and most of the time I’d half forgotten she wasn’t already dead. As I stepped out the door I felt a twinge of sympathy for Cord, Creed and Chase. The news had to hurt them. I figured you didn’t have to be close to your mother to feel pain over her death.

The screen door was open and I could hear my own mother was still carrying on in the kitchen about ‘poor Maggie’ even though all her words sounded more like gossip than grief.

“Con!” Erin waved from her bedroom window. Her long dark hair was loose on her shoulders and she wore an oversized yellow t-shirt with an unzipped white hoodie. She looked like sunshine and candy. I almost went running to her until I remembered. Then my stomach dropped and I felt sick with the burden of what I might know. She continued to call my name as I ran away.

The garage was busy and that was good because it kept my mind off things. There was some talk going back and forth about Maggie Gentry’s death until Benji Carson rolled out of his office and told everyone to knock it off. He patted my shoulder apologetically as he passed, and I felt rather guilty for not being more busted up about a relative passing out on her bathroom floor and choking to death on her own vomit. But hell, I had my own problems to deal with.

It was after lunch and I was underneath a rusty Pontiac when a shadow fell and a soft voice made me bang my head on the undercarriage before I pushed out from beneath the car.

“There you are,” Erin said with happy shyness as she waited for me to sit upright.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, wiping my oily hands on my jeans.

Confusion crossed her face. She didn’t usually stop by the garage since it wasn’t a short walk and Carson didn’t really approve of high school girlfriends showing up. But I also wasn’t usually this cold to her. In fact I never was.

“I just wanted to see you.” She held out a paper bag. “Chocolate chip cookies. Made them this morning.”

“Thanks.” I took the bag and tossed it on the nearest counter. She followed me as I headed outside. The guys looked Erin over curiously and a few of them outright leered, which ordinarily would have driven me up a wall. But today I just didn’t have it in me to care.

She was biting her thumbnail and looking a little nervous by the time we got to the parking lot.

“Con, what’s wrong?”

I shrugged. “You and Stone must have talked it all through already.”

She was startled. Her thumb dropped out of her mouth. “What? I didn’t talk to Stone at all today.”

“Yeah?” I said coldly. “What about yesterday?”

“I don’t get it.”

I crossed my arms. “What,” I demanded, enunciating each word with obnoxious precision, “did you and my brother talk about late last night?”

“Jeez, nothing important. We just happened to be outside at the same time.”

“You both thought I was a f*cking idiot, huh?”

She was at a loss. She swallowed and held her arms behind her back.

“My god, Conway. That sounds like an accusation.”

“It’s a question. One that deserves an answer.”

“Really? What do you want to know?”

“I want to know why you and my brother look like you get just a little more cozy every time my back is turned these days.”