Page 63 of Requiem

It strikes me as funny, as I hit the halfway marker to the academy, that today will be Sorrell’s first dayeverat Toussaint. I can’t stop laughing.

Callum and Seb wait for me by my usual spot in the parking lot. They’re wearing their Toussaint Academy lacrosse team shirts; the moment I lay eyes on them and I see their perfectly styled hair and their crisp white Adidas sneakers, I realize that Lani was right—Ihavebecome a jock. I hang out with jocks. I play a fuckingsport.

Callum’s on me as soon as I kill the Mustang’s engine. “Well? Did the old man kick your ass?”

I slam the car door. “Why would he kick my ass?”

“’Cause you nearly got suspended for three weeks! I’m amazed you’re even allowed to step foot on school property.”

Hah. I only got involved in that fight because Callum’s big mouth got him into shit with Jonah, the one person at Toussaint you don’t want to antagonize, and he needed his friends to drag his ass back out of it. I got one hit in,onegood hit, and Jonah went down like a sack of shit. Naturally, I was the only one of the three of us Principal Ford saw throwing hands. Callum and Seb had bolted. I’d stayed, knuckles smarting, skin split open and bleeding. I hadn’t bothered to take off after my friends. Some sick part of me hadwantedthe punishment.

“I can go home if you want me to,” I say mockingly, snaking an arm around the back of Callum’s neck. He struggles against the headlock I put him in, escaping after he jams his elbow into my side, forcing me to let him go.

Seb groans, leaning his weight against the side of the car. “Don’t do that to me, Merchant. If you’re gonna bail, at least take me with you. I don’t think I can stand another second of this asshole acting like the big man. Anyone would thinkhewas the one who knocked Jonah out. If I have to hear about the sound Jonah’s head made when it cracked off the ground one more fucking time, I’m gonna officially lose my shit.

“You’re jealous,” Callum proclaims. “You just wish it had been you who’d knocked him out. Instead, you just stood there with your thumb stuck up your ass.”

“Fuck. When did we start squabbling like girls?” I’m bored of their bullshit already and the day hasn’t even started yet. To avoid suspension, I’d had to apologize to Jonah in front of his fucking parents. I’m reallynotsorry for knocking the tool out; feigning sincerity as I apologized for my actions had been really fucking difficult. I’m beginning to think I should have just taken the suspension and chilled at home for a couple of weeks. At least there, I wouldn’t have to listen to my friends bickering like eight-year-olds. I’d have missed too many games, though. Missing out on games means no scholarship, and since Lorelei is insisting I go to a west coast school and won’t pay for me to study music at Juilliard, then I’m really going to need that scholarship.

The bell rings. “Come on.” I grab both of my friends by their shoulders, urging them up the steps, into the building. “We got about three minutes before we’re in shit.”

They allow themselves to be steered toward the entrance, but they continue with their chatter as they go. Relentless. They’re fuckingrelentless. “Marcus is throwing the First Night party tonight. He told me he’d break my nose if I even thought about gatecrashing,” Sebastian says. Marcus, Seb’s brother, has been planning this First Night party for his senior year since he enrolled at Toussaint. As Juniors, we’re definitely not invited. I couldn’t give a shit about Marcus’ dumb party, but Sebastian would love nothing more than to attend. Dude worships the ground his brother walks on. Idolizes him at every turn, even though he’s a cocksucker of the highest order. Crashing this First Night bullshit has been on Seb’s agenda since he found out about Marcus’ plans two years ago.

“We need dates,” Callum says, as we push through the double doors, walking into Toussaint’s main hallway. “I heard they were gonna be getting into some freaky sex shit. Be pretty fucked if we rocked up to the party and didn’t have anyone to partner up with.”

I tune all of their chatter out.

I’m not going to any party.

I brushed Callum’s comment off earlier, but Iamin serious shit with my father over the Jonah incident. I don’t board at Toussaint like these punks. Why the hell would I, when I live so close? There’s no way I’ll be allowed out of the house past dark for the next few weeks. And even if I was allowed, I wouldn’t bother testing my father’s patience by attending what already sounds to be a shit show in the making.

“What about you, Merchant?”

Sebastian is looking at me expectantly. “Sorry. I spaced. What about me?”

He shakes his head, then repeats his question nice and slow, obviously unhappy about having to do so. “Who…are you…going…to ask…to the party?”

“Sorry, boys. It’s my parents’ anniversary. They’re gonna be out all night. I’m on Lani duty.”

“Your folks are loaded, Merch. They can afford a babysitter. You arenotmissing this party,” Sebastian states.

“Take it up with my father. I’ll shoot you his contact info.”

This shuts him up. Sebastian’s just as big as me. He’s packed on a heap of muscle over the past year and a half. Doesn’t matter how tall he gets, or how much muscle he packs on, though—he’ll always be scared of my dad. Paul Merchant is a slim man. Physically unimposing. Reserved. Quiet. But you do not fuck with him. He’s a serious man. He commands respect and gets it. My father only has to glance sideways at Seb with the hint of a frown on his face to make my friend quail. It’s hilarious to watch him squirm, poor bastard.

“No need to get sassy,” Seb mutters. “Why don’t you just ask your old bestie to come as your date? I heard Little Miss Sunshine is back from the East Coast—”

I shove Sebastian ahead of me, through the classroom door. Callum follows behind. Once we’re all seated—me in front of Seb, Callum at the desk directly to my right, I address Seb with more manners than he deserves. “First, to repeat myself, I’m not going to the party. Second, don’t call her that.”

“Why not?” He laughs nastily. “Wasn’t she always justthesunniest?” His tone stinks. Sorrell walked around with a thundercloud over her head and a scowl on her face, which made her look like she was about to throat-punch the closest person to her and then set fire to the building. Her eyeliner, even at thirteen, was always aggressively thick. She refused to take shit from anyone. I adored every angry little detail of her.

Other people didn’t find her hostility quite so charming.

But it was more than that for Seb. He couldn’t understand why I wanted to spend so much time with a girl. One I was just friends with, especially. He moved to Sumner to attend the middle school partnered with Toussaint, packed off to board up here when he was only eight. He and I met at junior lacrosse practice and became fast friends. He wanted to hang out all of the time, wanted to do ‘dumb guy shit.’ Sorrell’s presence had irked him even back then. He’s been running amok ever since she left; I’m sure he’s just hating that she’s back now.

As if reading my mind, my friend jabs me in the back. “Just remember,” Sebastian says. “This is the start of junior year. We don’t have time for distractions. Not even fromfriends. The team matters more than anything else.”

I don’t always want to throttle Seb. Just most of the time. The dude’s so fucking petty. I give him what I hope translates to an understanding smile. “Of course, dude. No distractions. No old best friends. Noparties…”

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