Page 8 of Owen Gardner is Losing It

“Doubt it,” I said, tying my shoes. “And neither do you, so…”

“Brother, the wall between our rooms is very thin, and you sent out a mass invite on the internet. You and your dipshit friends aren’t being very discreet about any of this. You’re supposed to keep that stuff in private messages, idiot.”

I ignored him, standing up to spritz myself with cologne. I was hoping he’d exit my room so I could grab a condom without his judging eyes, but he crossed his arms and leaned against my doorway, making himself comfortable. “Two kegs.” He clicked his tongue. “Maybe you can lose your virginity and do your first keg stand all in the same night.”

“Fuck off.”

“Who’s the unlucky girl?”

“Nobody you know,” I said, glancing down at a text message from Beth. Her brother was picking up the Smirnoff for her, and then she’d be on her way to the cabin. I offered to pick her up, but she wanted to have her own car there, which I could respect. I slid my phone into my back pocket and glared at Jake. “Can you leave?”

“Nah. You’ve got something I want.”

“Which is…?”

“Cold hard cash, baby,” he said.

“What are you talking about?”

“That tutoring money. I know you’ve got a lot saved up now. And don’t say you don’t, because I just heard you telling Xander you’d chip in for those kegs.”

“What the hell makes you think I’m going to share any of that money with you?

A grin slowly stretched across Jake’s face in a way that reminded me of the Grinch, or perhaps Mr. Burns fromThe Simpsons. It made me want to smack him. “Because if you don’t, I’m telling Mom and Dad what you’re up to.”

“Yeah? I’m not you. They trust me.”

“Wanna bet?” He laughed. “Mom will pull you out of there by your ear and you know it.”

I slowly inhaled. “I’ll just lie and say I didn’t know there was going to be alcohol.”

Jake shifted his feet. “Okay, then I’ll tip you guys off to the police.”

“Why would you do that?”

“I need money,” he said slowly, drawing out each syllable. “And you’ve got it.”

Jake had a job bussing tables at the local Applebee’s until about two weeks ago, when he got fired for clocking in late too many times. He could’ve gotten a replacement job, but no, he’d rather exploit his little brother. “So you’re blackmailing me.”

“Just trying to survive.”

“You’re a piece of shit.”

“What do you choose, little brother?”

I knew I wasn’t going to win this argument, because Jake was the most headstrong person in our family. We had a history of ratting each other out, too, and I knew he wasn’t bluffing. With a sigh, I opened my top desk drawer, where I kept my savings in a clasp envelope. “How much?”

“Fifty ought to do it.”

“Fifty dollars?!” I put the envelope back in the drawer. “That’s two sessions’ worth.”

Jake just smirked.

With a frustrated sigh, I pulled the envelope back out, reaching for a couple of twenties and a ten and handing them to him.

“You made the right choice.” He slapped my shoulder hard and gave me a shit-eating grin. “Anyway, see you at the party.”

“Wait, what?” I gripped his arm. “You’re coming to this thing? What the fuck?”

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