After all, it wasn’t their fists that caused the serious injuries—it was the concrete.
His father told him if he hit Clay again, he’d be grounded until his wedding day.
Wyatt didn’t see what the big deal was. It seemed like a sporting injury to him, and his father didn’t lose his marbles when Wyatt broke his arm in judo. Jules had dislocated her shoulder in karate two months ago, and she got a new video game console for her room.
Wyatt already decided the fight didn’t count. Fights with friends were okay. He fought with his friends all the time in boxing and karate.
“Are ya ever gonna accept my apology?” Wyatt asked, giving Clay a look across the breakfast table. “It’s been five days.”
Clay shrugged, looking unconcerned with the time that passed as he ate his second serving of eggs. Wyatt didn’t know how Clay could eat like that while still recovering. Wyatt’s head still had him feeling queasy even after the hospital discharged them last night. Clay had a more severe concussion than Wyatt, and he was eating like they were going to run out of food.
“You want more?” Wyatt asked curiously, while having the off thought he probably ought to stop Clay before he got legitimately sick.
Clay didn’t respond, but he did stand up and walk back to the stove. He dished himself up a third serving of eggs Henry had fixed for them because his father had been busier than usual dealing with the fallout from the fight. The people from the state had stopped by last night, but largely due to Wyatt and Jules’s whining, his father told them Clay could stay there until he healed up.
“You don’t think the state’s really gonna take ya, do you?”
“Yup. Surprised they ain’t dragged me away already.”
Clay was talking. That seemed like a minor improvement since he barely responded to Wyatt’s questions despite the two of them being together nonstop for almost a week. They even got to share a room in the hospital.
“You can’t go. We’re supposed to be buddies.”
“I’d rather go with the state.”
“Nah, that ain’t true.”
Clay gave him a dark look that said in no uncertain terms that it
was
true, but Wyatt’s theory was if he kept reminding Clay enough times of their new friendship, eventually he would forgive him.
“I said I was sorry ’bout a million times.”
“Whatever.” Clay turned back and sat at the table with a fresh plate of eggs. “I ain’t gonna be your friend. No way.”
“You can’t just take off with the state,” Wyatt argued. “Dad said they could take you to another city and—”
“Sounds good to me.”
“What ‘bout Tabitha?” he couldn’t help but bark, because if Tabitha liked Wyatt half as much as she liked Clay, he’d do anything to stay near her. “You can’t just up and leave her.”
“Tab’s fine.”
Wyatt let out a growl of frustration. His father thought Wyatt’s mouth could make a saint violent, but he hadn’t spent a week hanging around Clay Powers day and night. He
was not
an easy kid to be best buddies with. “You’re an asshole.”
Clay’s head shot up, and it was obvious he heard some sort of violence in Wyatt’s tone. “You gonna start hitting me again?”
“No, but she deserves a better fella than you.”
Clay’s eyes narrowed at Wyatt. “I ain’t her fella.”
“You sure act like you’re her fella. I saw you hugging,” Wyatt couldn’t help but grumble. The headache that wouldn’t end was making him grouchy. “She’s sweet on you.”
Then the most amazing thing happened; Clay Powers laughed. A hard, genuine laugh that seemed so strange coming from the somber, intense kid Wyatt had grown accustomed to over the past few days.
“What, Conner? You want her to be sweet on you instead?”
Wyatt shrugged. “Maybe.”
Clay stopped laughing. He looked shocked at the admission.
“Maybe you could help me out,” Wyatt mused thoughtfully when Clay didn’t have a response. “Tell her something good ’bout me.”
“Why would I do that?” He was looking at Wyatt like he’d grown two heads. “I hate you.”
“Naw, we’re best buddies,” Wyatt reminded him. “We’re supposed to help each other out and tell each other things. I told you a secret. Tell me one.”
“No.”
“You ain’t exactly easy to be best buddies with, Powers.”
“That’s ’cause I ain’t your buddy.”
“Sure you are,” Wyatt said confidently. “Now are you gonna tell Tabitha something good ’bout me or what?”
Clay was focused on his eggs rather than Wyatt’s romantic crises. Wyatt didn’t think Clay understood the gravity of the situation.
“I’m serious, Powers. I got to go steady with that girl.”
“Forget it.” Clay finally huffed, as if willing to do anything to shut Wyatt up. “Her mama would never let her hang out with a piglet.”
“She would if you helped me out,” Wyatt pressed before he added, “I mean, that ain’t the reason we’re buddies, but I got to find a way to get her to like me, and you’re the best one to help.”
Clay rolled his eyes, looking disgusted by the entire topic.
“What?” Wyatt questioned self-consciously.
“Nothing.” Clay grunted as he went back to eating, the air of sadness around him nearly choking the air out of the room.
“No, tell me. What?”
Clay lifted his gaze to Wyatt and seemed hesitant before he shrugged. “I’m pretty sure she already likes you.”
“Really?” Wyatt grinned triumphantly, but then he really took a moment to notice how miserable Clay seemed, and he couldn’t help but try to reach out to his friend. “Hey, I know you’re down because of your mama, but I ain’t got one either. That’s why we’re good buddies.”
Clay sighed tiredly and reminded Wyatt for what had to be the millionth time. “We’re not buddies.”
Wyatt knew with absolute conviction Clay didn’t mean it. They didn’t suffer through two very painful concussions together to walk the other way once they’d healed up. Those were battle wounds. It was like surviving a war together. Wyatt just chose to forget they’d been on opposing sides. He knew Clay was supposed to be his best friend. It felt like destiny.
Just like he knew he was supposed to grow up, be sheriff, and marry Tabitha McMillen.
Part Four
The Vigilante
A pit bull is like a fighter. Every so often it needs to taste blood.
—Barry McGuigan
Chapter Eleven
September 1992
Tabitha missed riding the bus with Clay.
Even after he got stuck in the foster system, he still bused to school. Probably because most of his foster families didn’t want to spend any more time with him than they had to. Now the start of ninth grade had him in one of those in-between stages where no one wanted him, and he was back living with the Conners.
So Tabitha was riding the bus alone because the sheriff always dropped the twins off before school, and Clay along with them. The last time he was with the Conners, it took them months to find him a new place to stay, so it looked like Tabitha was going to be busing alone for her first many weeks of high school.
How very unfortunate.
She sat in the back, reading her book and avoiding making eye contact because she’d never learned how to make friends. She was still upbeat because Brett started getting rides to school now that Vaughn had somehow gotten a beaten-up older-model car. Not having him on the bus bullying her when he got bored was very refreshing.
Only the first streaks of pink were starting to stretch across the sky, but the bus was nearly full because the buses started on the bad side of town earliest and worked their way to the few spoiled rich kids whose parents were somehow too busy to drive them in the morning.
She didn’t bother to look up when it stopped, so she was surprised when Terry Dower was suddenly standing over her.
“Can I sit?”
Tabitha blinked in surprise at the older boy, but grabbed her backpack and slid over anyway. “I thought you had a car.”
“My parents sold it.”
“Oh.” Tabitha shoved her old backpack down to the ground as Terry sat. “I guess that sucks.”
“It does,” he agreed and let his head fall back against the headrest. His eyes were closed as if he were hiding from life.
Tabitha studied him, surprised by any number of things, not the least of which was Terry riding the bus. His family was one of the richest in Garnet. He had been driving around in a very nice Honda Prelude, and she couldn’t possibly imagine what happened to make his parents sell it.
“Is Maple’s not doing good?” she asked curiously.
“It’s the only grocery store in town. Can’t do anything but good.”
Tabitha noticed she wasn’t the only one amazed by Terry being there. Everyone was looking back to the two of them, whispering under their breath in scandalized shock.
She wanted to ask why, but she didn’t. Terry looked miserable, so she just picked her book back up and started reading. She was good at giving people the space they needed.
They were five minutes closer to school before Terry asked, “Do you and Conner got something going on the side?”
Tabitha made a choked sound of shock. “Excuse me?”
Terry shrugged, a blush staining his cheeks despite his tan still left over from summer. He ran a hand through his dark hair and seemed to be choosing his words. Then he leaned in and spoke in a low voice only Tabitha can hear. “I notice he’s always hanging out with you, but you ain’t going out with him. I was just wondering if y’all were sneaking round or something.”
“No,” she said a little too quickly. “He’s Clay’s best friend. They train all the time together for the circuit, and Clay’s my friend, so—”
“No, I see him looking at
you
.” Terry gave her a sharp, penetrating glare. “And I see you looking at him too.”
Tabitha rubbed her fingers against her palm, feeling the smooth scarred skin as a reminder. “I don’t like Wyatt Conner.”
“But what if you did? How would you ever be able to date him? You know his daddy wouldn’t put up with him going out with a McMillen any more than your family would want you hanging round the sheriff’s son.”
Tabitha could only gape at him. “You’ve put a lot of thought into this.”
“I just—” he started and then looked away as if trying to find some sort of courage she didn’t understand. Then he turned back to her, his shoulders tense with determination. “If you ever wanted to date Conner, I could help you out.”
Tabitha didn’t want to date Wyatt.
At least that was what she told herself as she felt the scars on her hand once more, but she couldn’t help but ask, “Why would you want to do that?”
“We could help each other out.” His dark eyes were still bright with resolve. “You’re different than the folks round here. You’re always writing and reading. Like an artist. Aren’t artists supposed to be different than other folks? More understanding.”
Tabitha leaned into Terry and confessed, “I have absolutely
no idea
what you’re talking ’bout.”
“Forget it.” Terry huffed and fell back against the seat. “It was a dumb idea anyway.”
“I don’t even know what the idea is.” Tabitha’s mind was still reeling. This conversation was like trying to put together pieces of a puzzle, and she knew she was missing key facts. “Is this because of your car?”
“Fuck my car,” he growled. “And fuck my mother. I don’t need it.”
Tabitha fell back against the seat and looked ahead, still trying to understand what she was missing. This whole situation was beyond odd. She and Terry weren’t even very good friends. He was two years older than her, and until now he’d been one of those older high school boys she saw in passing but didn’t talk to very often. He was nice, he was handsome, but he was also rich and had very little reason to associate with her.
“When have you been watching me and Wyatt?”
Terry wasn’t very sports minded, so he wouldn’t have been likely to see them at the rec center. True, they ran into each other around town, but to say they hung in different circles was an understatement. The only other place she saw him was at Maple’s, where she would often do shopping for her mother. Sometimes Wyatt and Clay were with her, but not always.
Then something occurred to her, and she turned and asked, “Are we that obvious?”
He gave her a look as a disbelieving laugh burst out of him. “Wyatt’s been hounding you since elementary school. Everyone knows it.”
“It hasn’t been that long.” She felt her cheeks get hot. “Just ’cause we talk don’t mean—”
“Look, I don’t care who you wanna date.” Terry cut her off with another long look. “Not like I got any place to be giving people hell on impossible relationships. I just thought I’d help you out if you wanted to make your move.”
“Make my move?”
“Wyatt Conner ain’t exactly hard on the eyes,” Terry said in a low voice. “He walked onto the varsity football team this year as a freshman. He’s won a million karate trophies, and he’s got that confident stride like his daddy. He talks, and people listen. Every cheerleader in this school is gonna be crawling all over him now that he’s in high school.”
Tabitha’s shoulders slumped, because she couldn’t deny the white-hot rush of jealousy that surged through her at the thought. How could she compete with all those pretty and pressed girls Garnet churned out so easily?
Now that they were in high school, Wyatt was finally going to get himself a real girlfriend. Tabitha tried to tell herself it was a good thing, because Wyatt hadn’t dated in middle school. He focused on sports and pestering her…relentlessly.
She understood why Clay gave in and just started calling Wyatt his friend. He was a hard fella to say no to, but she knew falling for him was a bad idea for all the reasons Terry had stated. More so, she had gotten over her childish hero worship of Wyatt Conner.
While she wished she hadn’t rashly burned her stories, especially when she saw the lengths he’d gone to make up with Clay after that fight, she was glad for the sharp wake-up call that Wyatt was just as normal as anyone else. He bled the same and made the same dumb mistakes as other boys did. He was bold and cocky, a total show-off, and sometimes he said the dumbest things she’d ever heard in her life, but she was still inexplicably drawn to him.