Give Me Hell (Give Me #4)

“Well, I am,” I announce, shaking off the weird feeling I get from staring into his eyes.

Putting together a new plate of food, I set it opposite the table setting laid out for Jake in the freshly cleaned dining room. I’m shovelling in a fork load of spaghetti when he takes a seat, having surrendered to my mother’s bullying tactics.

Jake picks up his fork and shifts the spaghetti around on his plate, ignoring me.

“Where do you go to school?” I ask, still feeling unsettled as I finish chewing.

“Banks Public,” he says to his food.

“That’s high school.”

“Wow. You’re smart.”

I ignore the jibe. It’s nothing compared to what my brothers dish out. My skin is Teflon after years of smartass remarks. “How old are you?”

“I just turned twelve.” Jake finally looks at me, his head lifting slow as if it weighs a tonne. “You?”

“I’ll be eleven soon. I’m having a pool party,” I boast because surely that makes me cooler than cool. I have a brand-new swimsuit to wear too. “Do you want to come?”

His eyes drop back to his plate. “No.”

“Fine,” I reply, my hackles rising at his cool, disinterested tone. I don’t know why I asked him anyway—a complete stranger. Looking at him is giving me weird jitters. I pick my plate up and stand from the table. “You wouldn’t fit in anyway. It’s for cool, fun people and you’re a bit of an ass, aren’t you?”

“Mackenzie Valentine!” I cringe at my mother’s tone. “Upstairs now. I’d like a word.”

I set my plate back down and follow her up the stairs and into my room. “I cannot believe you,” she starts off then places fingers to her temples. “Actually, I can.” My mother drops her arms and begins picking up my dirty clothes off the floor. “You’re a rude, selfish little bully. I know your brothers goad you into trouble, but you need to be bigger than that. You need to find that sweet girl I know is inside you somewhere and bring her out. Jake is staying with us for a few weeks, and I want him to feel welcome.” Mum sweeps from the room but not without one last parting shot. “After tonight’s entire fiasco, I’m cancelling your birthday party.”

I die a little bit inside. “Nooooooo! Mum—”

She gives me the hand. “Not another word, Mackenzie. After you apologise to Jake, you can make up the trundle bed in Jared’s room for him to sleep on.”

After stomping down the stairs, I offer Boy Wonder a stilted apology. He’s still seated at the table, his plate of food uneaten and shoulders slumped. My heart gives a twinge, but I fight not to care. He ruined my birthday. It’s a wonder I don’t follow it up with a punch to his face.

Later that night I’m in bed asleep when an odd thumping noise wakes me. A curse follows. I scoot back on my bed, on immediate alert. My eyes scan the darkened room, focusing on a moving shadow. My heart pounds a furious beat. “Who’s there?”

“It’s me,” comes the quick reply.

Boy Wonder. Of course. I glance at the clock. Two a.m. glares back in digital red. “What are you doing in my room?”

“I wanted to say sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“About your party.”

“And you had to say it now?”

There’s silence for a long moment. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“So what?” I brush a mountain of long blonde hair from my face. “If you can’t sleep, then stuff anyone else who’s trying to?”

“God. You’re like a damn cactus. I’m trying to apologise here.”

“Well, you can shove it,” I hiss, furious all over again. Mum is always bringing home random strays. Granted, the majority have been babies or toddlers so someone of Jake’s age is something new, but I don’t like it. I don’t like him. He’s managed to ruin my life in the space of one night. “I don’t care about you or about your stupid apology because it doesn’t fix anything.”

“I guess you’re right.” Jake’s tone is so flat my stomach squeezes into knots. “I’ll see you in the morning, then,” he says and bumps his way from my room, closing the door behind him.

I’m left feeling disquieted. He’s made me angry for myself, but there’s a sad kind of emptiness in him that tugs at my heartstrings. The ache of it is strong enough to keep me awake for another hour before I eventually find sleep again.

But when I wake, I don’t see Jake in the morning like he said. He’s gone and the ache that eased through the night begins to throb anew.

Around noon I chase Jared down in the living area to question him. “Didn’t Mum tell you?” My brother pauses his game of Mario Kart and looks up. “The state turned up this morning and took him.”

“Why?”

“He was only here because his father had a brain anyadoodlewhatsit.”

“Anyadoodle what?”

He frowns at me like I’m stupid. “Aneurysm.”

“Oh my god.” My legs wobble and I sink down on the sofa. “Is his father okay?”

“I don’t think so. I don’t think his brain works right anymore. I heard they’re going to admit him into some kind of care facility when he leaves the hospital.”

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“Why would anyone tell you? It’s none of your business.”

“Well, if it’s none of my business, how do you know?”

His expression turns smug. “I heard Mum and Dad talking about it late last night. He was going to stay with us until they tracked down his relatives, but apparently Jake doesn’t have any. Anyway, he’s probably going into some kind of boy’s home.”

“What about his mum?”

Jared shrugs. “I don’t know. I didn’t hear them mention her. Maybe she’s dead.”

Having given me the facts, Jared un-pauses his game and continues his race. I watch blindly, unable to move. My mind is on Jake. All I can picture is him getting taken away and facing a future alone, those eyes of his so flat and empty.

“I wanted to say sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“About your party.”

He was apologising over my stupid birthday party after his whole life had completely fallen apart. Guilt has my stomach rolling over.

“I’m such a bitch,” I whisper.

“You got that right,” Jared throws out cheerfully, focused on his game.

“Go fuck yourself,” is my retort as I leave the living area for my bedroom. Taking a seat at my study desk, I sit down and pen Jake a letter. When I’m done, I fold it carefully, seal it in an envelope, and write JAKE ROMERO in block letters across the front.

“Mum?” I call out, jogging down the stairs.

“In the office!” she calls back.

She’s sitting at her desk, tapping the keyboard when I drop the envelope in front of her. “Can you give that to Jake?”

Mum looks at it, then at me. “Oh, honey. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“What?” I frown, folding my arms. “Why not?”

She releases a deep sigh, swivels her chair to face me, and takes off her reading glasses. “I worry about bringing these kids home. Here. Of you being exposed to their…” she pauses for a moment as if trying to find the right word “…troubles.” Mum tilts her head, green eyes revealing concern. “I don’t want you getting attached.”

My chin juts out. “I’m not attached.”

“Either way, it’s not a good idea.”

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