Page 39 of Brutal Prince

My mood turns dark in an instant. I stand, aim, and throw the bottle as far as I can. Marcus lets out a cackle when it hits the side of a hedge. “So close.”

I slump back in my seat. “Give me a smoke,” I say.

Marcus must have heard the tone of my voice, because he doesn’t pass back the cigarette we’ve been sharing — he lights me a new one.

Kind of hate alcohol. The early stages are fine. But now, when I’ve just about reached my threshold, there are only two paths for me to follow.

Aggression or depression.

Guess Marcus and I have that in common. Except his highs and lows come regardless of how much rum he has pumping through his veins.

“Hey, so Zak’s throwing a party after the game this weekend.”

“Yeah?”

“Black-tie again.”

“Swishy fuck.”

Marcus laughs. “You gonna come?”

“What, alone?” I glance across at him. “Or are you offering to be my plus one? Forget it.”

“You’d be lucky to have me, you fucking prick.”

I wave away the comment. As if I could go to a fucking party like some normal kid. All those girls around, all that booze around. Even if I swore not to touch a fucking drop of liquor, not get close to a line of coke…I was perfectly fucking sober when I found Indi in the woods.

I can’t risk that shit.

“You ever wish you could just go back to the way things used to be?” I ask quietly, sitting forward and resting my elbow on my knee as I drag at my cigarette.

Marcus is quiet for the longest time. “Man, you gotta get Jessica out of your fucking head.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“It is easy for me to say.” Marcus sits forward in a rush, leaning forward until I look at him. “Get over her. Shit happened, we dealt with it, it’s done.”

I let out a soft huff. “So why the fuck does it keep coming up to bite me in the ass?”

Marcus laughs. “You honestly think it will just go away? It’ll always be there, man, but you just gotta ignore it. If anyone had shit on you, it would have surfaced by now. It’s been months, bro. Christ, almost a year, actually.” He sits back in his seat, cigarette dangling from his mouth, and stares at me as if daring me to argue with his impeccable logic.

“When the fuck is the pizza getting here?” I mutter.

“I dunno. How long since you ordered?”

I twist to face him. “Me? You said you’d call.”

We stare at each other for a second before bursting out laughing.

“Ah, fuck this shit,” Marcus says. “Don’t know about you, but I’m done.”

“Yeah, fuck,” I murmur, still smiling as I get to my feet. I wobble a bit, and Marcus slings his arm around my shoulder. We hold onto each other as we make our unsteady way back to the mansion, dodging rose bushes and concrete statues in the likeness of cherubs and shit.

“You ever think what it would be like to have a brother or a sister?” I ask idly.

Fuck, what was in that rum? I’m as full of feels as a chick on her period.

“Nope.”

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