I suggested hanging out by the pool and everyone agreed. It worked as a perfect distraction. Turns out the best way to nurse a hang-over is to lounge around in the sun and either drink water or more alcohol. Go figure.

Tray came outside a few minutes later and sat with me, Mandy, Tristan, Erin and Jasmine. We had segregated, somewhat. Mandy, Tristan, Erin, and Jasmine were at my patio table.

The rest sat opposite us, across the pool.

After the Jasmine’s incident, Amber and Sasha were inseparable. I was thinking that her plan had backfired. Now she was stuck with Mandy and…me, I guess.

Carter arrived two hours later, complete with a one hundred foot sub.

“Hey, beautiful,” Carter greeted, throwing an arm around my shoulders.

“What’s this in celebration of?” I asked, grinning back at him. I liked Carter—remember when I slammed the door in his face?

“Uh, it’s more of a de-celebration. I have to head back to boarding school. My ‘extended’ holiday is officially over.”

“What?”

“Yeah, but don’t worry. I should be getting another ‘extended’ holiday in a few months. It doesn’t take me long to get into trouble there,” he reassured me, squeezing my shoulders and steering us away to a corner. “So, let’s talk about you and my best friend, who I haven’t seen like this since…ever.”

“What do you mean?” I grinned lightly, but dreaded what he was going to say next. I had it feeling it was going to turn into some mushy feelings crap that I always run away from. But this was Carter, so I sucked it up and waited for what he was going to say.

“He looks relaxed, Taryn. I don’t know what you do.” He laughed. “Okay, I know exactly what you do, but any girl can do that too.”

I punched him in the chest.

“No, no, I don’t need the details. I just want to tell you, as Tray’s friend, thank you, for whatever the hell that works between the two of you. He looks good.”

Not today. He looked like he was wound tighter than a forty year old virgin who learned masturbation was ‘evil.’

“Uh…yeah,” I replied, unsure of what I was supposed to say.

It must’ve appeased Carter, because he nudged me in the shoulder playfully, and then exclaimed, “Tristan! You big slut!” He took off and jumped into her lap. “I heard what you did last night.”

“You hear the news?” Mandy asked, she materialized from behind me, a drink in hand.

“You’re drinking again?”

“Oh no. This is water. My drunk fest was yesterday. I’m good, thanks,” she said dryly. “Did you hear Carter’s going back to his school. It sucks.”

“Why does he go to boarding school?”

“Because his parents think he can get a better education elsewhere, where all his friends, like Tray, are not. They’re not big fans of Tray. Actually, a lot of parents aren’t fans of Tray.”

“How come?”

Mandy snorted. “Are you serious? Have you looked at Tray? He looks like sex on a stick. Mom and Dad would freak if they found out you’re dating him. Wait, you are dating, right? I mean, you’re still not in denial? Because it’s getting annoying.”

“No.” I rolled my eyes. “We both know we’re in a relationship. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“I’m going to throw that back at you the next time you’re yelling at me about Devon.”

Touché.

I argued anyway, “That’s different.”

“No, no. No, it’s not, Taryn.” Mandy laughed. “But anyway, Carter and Tray used to be inseparable when they were younger, but…I don’t know. Tray went through some phase and he became scary. People either worship Tray or they hate him. Most parents fall in the ‘hate’ category.”

I didn’t like this conversation. I shrugged. “They just don’t know him.”

“No one really knows him,” Mandy commented. She paused for a minute, studying Tray. “I mean, I know he likes beer, sex, and pizza. That’s about it and I’ve known him my whole life.”

I was uncomfortable.

Mandy burst out laughing. “You’re in pain right now, aren’t you?” she asked. “You’re just hating this.” She laughed hysterically.

I didn’t get what was so funny.

“I love you, Taryn.” She threw her arms around me, hugging me tightly. “I really do. I was a bit worried when we were asked to adopt you, but…man…this is great. You’re great. You and me—we’re actual sisters. We fight, laugh, cry, but you’re there for me, just like a sister should be. You’re better than a best friend. Best friends can fight and that’s the end of it, but not you and me.”

See why I’m so uncomfortable? There is absolutely no point in this conversation. Mandy and I have bonded before, we don’t need to do it again. In my opinion, conversations need to have a purpose. They should be limited to these purposes only: 1. To argue; 2. To make plans for the immediate future (stay away from long-term planning, could lead to something more serious); 3. Sex; 4. To inform someone or be informed of something important (I will be the judge on what is considered important). If conversations do not adhere to these requirements, the only exception is if I’m amused (I will also be the only one to judge if it is funny or not).

“Anyway,” Mandy continued after her fit of laughter, “I was saying that Carter’s parents don’t like Tray. I think it’s because Tray told ‘em to fuck off. The guy hates authority. He used to be awful in the eighth and ninth grade. He was suspended almost every month. They only kept him in school because the superintendent was golf buddies with his dad. Last year he started to get better. He only got suspended every third month or so.”

She started laughing again. She had to be drinking; water doesn’t have this kind of effect.

Another stipulation: both parties must adhere to the aforementioned stipulation concerning the humor exclusion. I was not amused. According to the rules, this conversation is illegal.

“I just think it’s awesome that my sister is dating Tray Evans. Like in a real relationship. This isn’t like when he dated Jasmine.”

Okay. This conversation needed to be done.

“I have to go to the bathroom.”

I veered into the kitchen instead and grabbed some of the magical coffee that appeared out of nowhere.

“Hey.” Tray had followed me.

“Let’s go back to denying that we’re in a relationship.”

Tray grinned and hopped onto the island counter, sitting back to listen to me.

I continued, “People suddenly think they can start talking to me about this, you and me. Carter. Mandy. God knows who’s next. I don’t care about what they think. I don’t care about what you used to be like and how you’ve changed. I don’t care that you’re treating me different than you treated Jasmine. I don’t care about any of that, so why do people think they should tell me? Because I should care about that shit? Which, I do not!”

“Just tell ‘em to fuck off. It works for me.” Tray was still grinning, finding my tirade amusing. He lifted a hand to run through his hair.

My eyes fell on his bandages.

“You want me to redress those?” I pointed to his hands.

“Oh. Uh,” he paused to consider it, “nah. They should be good. If I go swimming, then yeah.”

“I suggested swimming. But no one’s swimming.”

“That requires energy.” Tray yawned. “I know I don’t have that much.” He pointed to my hands. “How are your hands?”

I’d forgotten about my cuts. I lifted my hands and looked at them. “They’re better. Not hurting, if that’s what you’re asking.” But I should change their dressings, it’d been awhile.

“You two aren’t doing it in the kitchen, are you?” Carter asked, from around the corner. He must’ve been the spokesman, because a smattering of laughs—and giggles—broke out.

It’s only funny when men giggle. Giggling girls: annoying.

Tray retorted, “If we are, you gotta pay to come watch.”

Carter turned the corner, a dollar bill in hand. “Do I know you or what?” He laughed, launching himself up on the counter, landing next to Tray. “So, Taryn, do a dance for me.”

I narrowed my eyes at him.

Tray grew silent, waiting for my reaction.

I smiled, going for sultry, when I moved up next to Carter, sliding my hands along the counter, right beside him. Then I grabbed hold of his pants and yanked him off the counter.

I stepped back as he fell to the floor, landing on his ass.

“That’s more entertaining to me.” I grinned at him. Tray lifted me up and placed me beside him.

Carter sat there in shocked silence for a moment. “The fuck—” he finally sputtered, glaring at me as he stood up, brushing off his pants.

“You’re a moron.” Tray chuckled. “When you say moronic stuff, you need to expect to be treated like a moron.”

Grant moved back to the sub, which had been left out. He picked up a piece, and remarked, “Man, thanks for the food, Carter. I get sick of Tray’s pizza all the time.”

“Hey, don’t forget KFC,” Tray balked weakly.

Grant ignored him. “Too bad you gotta go back to boarding school. You should not go, like your parents would ever know. Aren’t they in Europe? Just have Taryn sneak in and steal all your contact info. They wouldn’t have a way to get a hold of your parents.”

“What?” Carter looked at me, interested.

“No,” I said automatically. “No. No.”

“You could do that?” Carter asked.

“No. I can’t. Not anymore. No.”

“That would be awesome. I wouldn’t have to go back and my parents wouldn’t cut me off.”

“I’m not doing anything. No.” I shot Tray a pleading look.

He laughed.

“Seriously, Taryn—”

“No, are you not listening to me?! I said no. I’m done.”

A very loopy looking Mandy piped up, “I won’t let her. So you can hate me. But Taryn’s not allowed to do anything illegal…like that.”

“Go find a computer genius, promise him whatever he wants and have him do the computer stuff. I don’t think you need help breaking into your school’s offices. You just need someone to hack into their system.”

“I could do that.” Carter was thinking pensively. “In fact, I could do that from here. I know some guys that could do it.” He took off, darting out to his car.

Tray and Grant were grinning.

“What?”

“He’s just going to threaten ‘em,” Tray answered, laughing. “Carter’s not big on public relations. He’ll threaten ‘em, they’ll report him, he’ll get in more trouble, and the dudes will get their asses kicked in the end.”

“He might get an extended suspension then. He gets what he wants either way,” I mused.

Just then Amber, Sasha, and another girl came into the room giggling—see annoying!

“What’s going on?” Amber asked pleasantly. She tended to downplay her stuck-up, bitchy, goddess-like persona around the guys.

Sasha was quiet.

“Not much,” Mandy answered her.

“We should go to the diner. Or to Sers,” Amber suggested, glancing around the group.

“Let’s go to Sers and rent a boat,” Jasmine added. “That would be a lot of fun.”

What the hell is Sers?

But everyone wanted to go to Sers, so the decision was made and everyone left.

Outside, Mandy pulled me towards Tristan’s car. “Hold on. I gotta grab my purse,” I muttered, darting towards the pool-house.

“Okay. We’ll wait,” Mandy called after me, moving towards the white Rolls-Royce.

Tray was doing the same when I entered his bedroom. I saw him stuff his wallet in his back pocket.

“What the hell is Sers?” I asked, looking around the room.

“It’s a rec center on the lake in town,” Tray answered distractedly. I watched him as he searched around the room for something. He lifted up a pillow, but put it back down.

“I plugged your cell in.”

“Oh. Thanks.” He lifted up a shirt and there it was.

“I did that when you were beating the shit out of that dumbass punching bag,” I murmured, looking for my purse.

I looked up, grabbing my purse—which was in the corner—and found him looking at me. “What?” I stopped, slinging my purse over my shoulder, to have it cross my body.

“Nothing.” His eyes didn’t reflect nothing, but I let it go.

“Okay.” I shrugged, moving to the door.

But Tray stopped me, he grabbed my hand and pulled me to him. Bending his head, he kissed me, his hands resting on my hips, holding me firmly against him.

When he lifted his head, he said, “Thanks.”

“For what?”

He didn’t say anything, but grinned, leading the way out.

I followed him out and headed towards Tristan’s car. The backdoor was open with Mandy half sitting outside. “Let’s go, Taryn. She’s riding with us, Tray.”

Tray lazily lifted a hand in response, already heading to his own vehicle.

When I climbed in beside Mandy in the backseat, Tristan sent me a small smile before starting the car. Erin sat in shotgun.

“Mandy, have you talked to Devon lately?” Erin turned and asked. She looked at me, then immediately looked away. I guess I still made her nervous.

He left yesterday. Define ‘lately.’

I tuned the conversation out. Mandy had launched into a story about how she drunk-dialed him last night and he was not amused. The guy’s getting ready for the play-offs. He probably needed his sleep. I could sympathize with him.

After a short drive to the opposite side of town, we reached Sers. The place was huge, complete with tennis courts, sand volleyball courts, and a diner. The giant rec center sat on the lake with a fifty-foot dock. I could see about twelve boats and a few Skidoo jet-skis anchored to it. On the opposite side of the dock, there were paddle boats pulled up on the beach. The best thing about the place? An Olympic size, indoor pool with three diving boards.

Plus…the place was packed. Mandy was right. Everyone had skipped today and they all seemed to have the same idea.

I saw Larkins at one of the tables with his hacky-sack buddies.

As we walked closer towards the table area, I saw Aidrian Casners and Crystal Fairs at another table. They were surrounded by a bunch of other students.

This was school without the classes and teachers.

Then a thought came to mind, and I looked into the furthest corner and saw Molly, Kayden, and Angela.

“I’ll be back,” I remarked, veering off in their direction.

Kayden saw me first, sat up straighter and gave me a small grin. It vanished immediately, but it was a grin nonetheless.

“Hey, guys!” I cried out, sitting next to Molly.

“Hi.” Molly brightened.

I zeroed in on her neck. “You are dating Larkins!” I accused her. “No way are those the same ‘love bites’ from the party. No way in hell.””

She blushed, ducking her head.

I loved this girl.

“He asked me out last night.”

“On a date?” What had they been doing before?

“Yeah. He wants to take me to the play-offs in the cities this weekend.”

“That’s great!”

“It’s…it’s for the entire weekend,” she whispered, looking back up—still blushing.

Wait a minute. “Are you guys skipping school too?”

“No. We were let out. Principal Marshalls said we might as well enjoy the day since everyone else is. We get credit for our classes though.”

“Oh,” I murmured. “So you don’t want to be around Larkins for the entire weekend?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?” I was clueless.

“Because,” she paused, looking uncomfortable, “things might…you know…”

“Oh.” Understanding dawned. “Miss Molly, are you saying that you might be tempted for things to…progress?”

“Yeah,” she whispered, her body turning an alarming shade of red.

Angela and Kayden were—shockingly—silent. I can’t imagine what their advice would be.

“Do you want to…you know?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean it’s nice, right? I don’t really want to go to college a virgin and I only have one more year before I graduate, to…you know…”

“Practice?” Was that the word? It sounded cold.

“Yeah.”

“Molly,” I sat up, growing serious, “you can have sex when you want to have sex. I think that you need to be able to talk about sex before you have sex though.” She opened her mouth, but I continued, “You need to be able to talk about everything involved in having sex, without blushing.”

“There’s more than…?” The girl was seriously struggling.

“There’s contraception, STDs, positions—‘cause there’s a lot more than just the missionary position—oral sex…the list goes on and on.”

I really think Molly’s going to have a heart attack. She was hyperventilating.

I added softly, “Larkins is a great guy. If you don’t want it to…progress…just tell him. The guy’s crazy about you, he wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable at all. Trust me.”

“But you—”

“What about me?”

“You’re with Tray Evans. I mean, do you guys…?”

Holy fuck. I was a bit taken aback by this conversation. There was a huge difference between myself and Molly.

“Yeah, we do,” I said bluntly.

“Is he, does he…?”

“What?”

“Does he ever…you know,” she took a deep breath, “put his hands…down there?”

How far was Larkins going?

“Yes, he does. Do you want Larkins to do that?”

“I don’t know…sometimes.”

“Do you guys talk before you do that?”

“No!” she was horrified. “Do you?”

“It’s different.” And it was—I was on a whole other level than Molly. I knew I could tell Tray point-blank that I was uncomfortable with something and he’d stop, no questions asked.

Did Larkins know she didn’t want that?

“Larkins might be going there, but he might be thinking it’s what you want,” I suggested. “You guys should talk. You need to talk.”

Why the hell was I feeling responsible for this girl and her sex life?

“Sometimes it’s…nice.”

“Tell him what you want,” I said bluntly.

Molly looked a little more appeased and maybe a little bit relieved.

Kayden and Angela looked like they wanted to disappear.

“Alright. I’m going to go,” I announced. You could only be socially charitable for so long. And sometimes…talking was too much work. Plus, this conversation did not fall under any of the four requirements or the exception clause.

That was my rationalization and I was sticking to it. I wasn’t going to feel guilty about not talking to the rest of the Invisibles.

I marched over to Larkins and grabbed him by the back of his shirt. “Come,” I ordered.

As we turned the corner, I asked, “What are you and Molly doing?”

“What are you talking about?” He looked confused, but a seconds later I saw a flicker of awareness in his eyes.

“Do not play with me.” I crossed my arms, glaring.

“Fine. We’re…this is embarrassing.”

“Tough,” I barked.

“We’ve been,” he looked down, his foot playing with a rock, “I don’t know. We get together and do things—”

“Do not push her to have sex with you,” I stated fiercely.

“No!” He looked up in terror. “I would never.”

“You need to talk to her about what she wants to do.” I was relieved. For some unknown goddamn reason, I was irritable and I didn’t know why which pissed me off even more.

“How do you…?”

“You ask her what she wants to do, what she likes or doesn’t like. She doesn’t like your fingers going where they go sometimes.”

“Oh God.” Larkins blushed, looking like he wanted to die. “Can we not have this conversation? This is seriously—”

“If you can’t talk to me about sex, you shouldn’t be having it with her,” I reasoned. “If you can’t talk to me, it’s going to be ten times worse with Molly. I’m making you talk about it, she’s not going to.”

“Fine. Can we be done now?” he asked stiffly, looking really uncomfortable.

“Fine.”

Larkins ran, an all-out, full on sprint. It made me smile.

“Hey, bitch.” I sighed. There goes my good mood. I looked behind me and Aidrian Casners had wandered up, with Crystal and another girl behind her.

What? Were they going to tag-team me?

“Yeah?”

“I know what you pulled last night.”

I grinned cockily. “Ah…fond memories.” I sighed mockingly.

“I’m going to let you slide on that one—once!” She puffed out her chest. “You got my tickets?”

“I do. Your date will be at your house to pick you up at six-thirty, with the tickets.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not supposed to do anything with him, am I?”

“Yeah.”

She froze.

I grinned. “No ditching.”

Aidrian relaxed. “Fine,” she shrugged, nonchalant, “but, if he don’t show with those tickets, expect you and me at war.”

“Oh, it’s expected.” I was amused. Crystal was right—Aidrian was entertaining.

“I see you came in with that slut, Tristan,” she commented casually.

“Yeah?” What was she getting at?

“I’ve always hated her, ever since the fourth grade when she thought she was too good for Rawley. Her and that Amber bitch.”

Two of my favorite people. I was warming up to this girl every second.

I saw Crystal was fighting off a grin.

“Yeah,” I said, nodding in agreement. Are we having a conversation? An actual conversation? Why?

Have I mentioned I’m not a trusting person?

I might not be trusting, but I’m able to appreciate the humor. And Aidrian Casners, talking to me, a casual, civil convo—was funny. It fit the exception stipulation.

“Amber Lancaster’s always thought she was the bomb. Seriously. The girl’s a fucking junior, she should stay with the juniors.”

“Like you stay with the seniors,” I murmured. Umm…she did know Tray was a junior too, right?

“Exactly, Aidrian went off, feeling appreciated, “I mean…she’s always been on my back, trying to one-up me. She just thinks she has the right. I should teach her she doesn’t have the right to anything. Her brother’s pretty hot.”

“Good luck with that.” I patted her on the arm, finding that more amusing. Crystal had turned away, I saw her shoulders were shaking with restrained laughter. “I’m going to go.”

“Oh…sure…yeah.” Aidrian came back to earth, realizing she had just confided in me—of all people. She yelled at me when I turned away, “Hey. Tickets. Tomorrow or it’s you and me.”

I rolled my eyes and resumed walking.

Mandy and the crew had taken residence at a table close to the dock. Tray, Grant, and some other guys were in a boat, looking around.

“What’s going on?” I asked, dropping next to my sister.

“The guys are renting a boat. We’re waiting.”

“We’ve been waiting forever,” Amber complained. “I’m roasting.”

“So go get wet,” Tristan snapped, sending a glare her way.

“Why don’t you?” Amber shot back.

I didn’t get the problem.

“Yeah, I’m gonna go,” I announced, standing up. I left my clothes and purse with Mandy, who solemnly swore to protect everything before I walked towards the pool in my black bikini.

“Hey, you.”

I’m so popular. I just love being popular.

I looked over and saw a guy gesture to me, walking quickly to intercept me. He was covered in tattoos and wore a polo shirt over some trendy faded jeans. His hair was styled into a mohawk.

“Yeah?” I asked when he grew closer to me.

“I want to talk to you.” He gestured across the center, to a private corner.

“Why?” I was standing in a bikini, defenseless. Did he think I was stupid?

“It’s about your sister. Mandy Matthews, right?” he tossed over his shoulder, all business, already moving ahead of me.

I followed, reluctantly.

When we get to the corner, I asked, “What’s this about?”

“Look, your sister owes me five grand.”

What?!

“What?!” I cried out, startled. “For what?”

“That’s between me and her. But you tell her, that if she doesn’t pay, I’m going to cash in my debt.”

I was seeing red.

“You push drugs?” I asked cautiously, letting my anger simmer.

“You fucking think I’m going to tell you that?” He grinned, so self-assured.

I didn’t like him. In fact, I was quickly starting to hate him.

“Who do you work for?” I asked, ignoring him. “You work for Galverson? Or Jace Lanser? Or someone else? Because I really hope, for your sake, that it’s someone else.”

He was shocked into silence.

Well, that was all the answer I needed. He was probably a small-time player, but he knew who the big guys were.

“You do know what happens to anyone who pushes drugs in Rawley, right? Or did you just start up?”

“Whatever, bitch…” Ah…the infantile defense mechanism—throwing insults when you had nothing intelligent to say. Nice.

“You need to re-evaluate your position and start spilling. Now,” I said firmly.

He didn’t say anything.

Fine. It’s not like I could assault him so instead, I said, “ “I am going to find out who you are. I am going to find out everything there is to know about you. I’m going to know where you sleep, where you eat, who your friends are, and your worst fears. Then I’m going to find out what you’re selling my sister, and when I do, I’m going to be bringing war to your front door. Trust me.”

“You’re a bitch,” he snarled, but he was re-thinking his strategy with me. Watching me, he could see the steel resolve in my eyes.

“If you don’t want me to destroy you, you better start talking now. And I mean, right now!”

“Holy…jeez…your sister’s been coming to me for two years. She’s getting a fucking vitamin from me. That’s it.”

“Vitamin R,” I stated.

The guy’s eyes widened.

Oh yeah, fucker. I knew what Vitamin R was for.

“What’s she doing on Vitamin R?” I demanded coldly.

“I don’t fucking know. Ask your sister. But she owes me five grand and she better cash in or—”

“Or what?” I wanted to know. I really wanted to know. Please tell me, asshole, because your life is over. Right now.

“Or—” He’d grown silent, just watching me.

“You better run,” I stated, fuming, “and you better run far, because getting whatever Mandy owes you is the least of your problems now.”

“You’re psychotic,” the guy whispered, watching me warily.

“What’s your name?”

“Oh no. No fucking way.”

“I’m going to find you anyway and I’m going to be more pissed off that it took me longer than it should have.”

“Jenkins,” he finally spat out, “Mark Jenkins.”

The name was familiar, but I couldn’t place it.

“Run,” I taunted coldly, furious.

He took one last look at me and then left; at first at a casual pace, and then—he ran.

I turned, slowly, and saw my sister laughing and bouncing up and down. She was grinning at whatever Tristan had just said. I watched as she picked up her phone and looked at it. A small frown appeared on her face, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared, her mask firmly in place, looking perfect.