Page 68 of Forever Then

“Whoa, whoa, guys. Everyone, calm down. I meant no harm,” McDormand says, but the cocky smile that spreads across his face is the final nail in his coffin as I clench my fist. “But she’s not gonna be sixteen forever, man.”

Nope, I was wrong.Thatwas the final nail.

Faster than I can react, Drew pushes Henley aside and lunges at him. Arms outstretched, I step between them to prevent the collision. I turn toward my best friend to plead with him to let it go just as his fist flies, meeting me square in the eye. A drunken, poorly aimed fist intended for McDormand.

My head knocks back with the impact. “Dammit, Fisher!”

Deaf to anything other than his own fury, Drew pushes past me. The rest of the guys flood in on all sides to keep them separated.

“My sister is off limits. Do you hear me? That goes for all of you. Not my sister. Not now. Not ever. Off. Fucking. Limits.”

Half an hour later, we’re back home. After he’s puked in the lawn, I help Drew up the stairs and to his room.

“I didn’t mean to punch you, I swear. McDormand’s a prick,” he mumbles, so close to passing out his lips barely move.

“I know. We’re cool. Sleep it off.”

He’s unconscious before I’m out the door.

My reflection in the bathroom mirror reveals the swollen sensitive flesh around my eye already darkening with what is sure to be a nasty bruise.

I toss and turn in bed for an hour, restless, mind circling the confrontation with Drew in the kitchen to the events at the bar tonight. I know I put his mind at ease when we spoke, but his message to McDormand—to all of us—was heard loud and clear.

Thank God I’m moving to Chicago tomorrow.

Sleep continues to allude me. At 1am. I decide it’s time to burn off some steam, so I throw on my swim trunks and head downstairs.

I leave the exterior lights off as I wade quietly into the water, careful not to make too much noise. After about a dozen laps, I stop at the deep end, clutching the pool ledge to catch my breath. The sound of the sliding door pierces the hum of the otherwise quiet night air.

“Midnight swims are supposed to be my thing.” Gretchen stands on the porch, towel in hand, wearing denim shorts and an over-sized t-shirt.

“Couldn’t sleep,” I say.

“I just like the quiet.”

“I get that.” I quickly climb out of the pool, grab my towel and throw on my shirt, not bothering to dry off first. The cotton immediately clings to my wet chest. “I’ll leave you to it then,” I add as I head for the house.

“I didn’t mean you had to leave. You can stay.”

The plea in her voice makes me stop. Thankful for the darkness that shields the uncertainty in my face, I make myself say, “I should probably try and get some sleep.”

She gnaws on her bottom lip.

I stride the final step toward the door. “Night, Fish.”

Before I can get the door open, she asks, “Did I do something wrong?”

I look at her over my shoulder. “What?”

“You’ve been here for a month and have barely spoken two words to me.” I turn to face her fully, chin dipped to my chest as I rake a hand through my hair. “It feels like you’ve spent the last four weeks avoiding me. And now you’re leaving tomorrow.”

Guilt cleaves my heart in half.

“It’s been four years and I was really excited for both of you to be home this summer and then you get here and it’s…weird. I get that you’re seven years older and I’m just a kid, but…you never used to ignore me.”

“Stop,” I command, stepping out of the shadows to move in closer. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

She does a once-over of my face and I realize too late what she’s seeing. “Oh my God, what happened to your eye?”

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