Authors: Rachel Higginson
By becoming his pimp of sorts? See, I knew it. This whole thing was about prostitution!
Besides, I was practically a stranger to him. Why in the world was he trusting
me
with his Facebook account? Weren’t these things supposed to be sacred or something?
Ok, enough obsessing over Fin. Seriously,
enough
.
I washed my hands for good measure and then found my way back to the dining room and large table where the rest of my family waited. The Freighthouse boasted the best steak in La Crosse, and rightfully so. But the décor left a little something to be desired. Everything was wood-paneled. Like,
everything
. The walls, the extensive bar, the floor, the ceiling, even the tables and chairs were in the same monotone rich wood color. It was a lot to take in.
We ate here whenever my parents came to visit us. They were satisfied with the food, and my brothers could put away semi-trucks full of all you can eat red meat, so they were also happy to eat here.
I
felt like this was what the inside of a crate felt like. It was not natural to be surrounded by this much…. paneling.
“Eleanor!” my mother cried, teary-eyed and emotional. She pulled me to her as soon as I was in grabbing-distance.
“Hi, Mom,” I said into her shoulder. My mother was tall for a woman, but not freakishly so. She had my light-brown colored hair that she kept short, refined and contained. Mine was admittedly wilder, and it had been at least a year since I dealt with any upkeep. Her eyes were hazel, while mine were my father’s blue. She was athletically built but had somehow grown more elegant with each year. While I was tiny and clumsy and…. me. She was a force of nature, head of every committee, staple of the community, model citizen. I invited criminals to live with me and then paid off the debt they originally stole from me.
“You’re gorgeous as ever,” she whispered into my hair. Even while I knew she really meant I was sloppy, unkempt and too thin.
“Thanks,” I mumbled and then wiggled out of her hug. I went to my dad next, who had his arms already opened and ready. “Hi, Daddy.”
“Come here, kiddo,” he said affectionately. He squeezed me extra tight and then literally deposited me into Lennox’s arms.
“Els, you’re late,” Lennox’s huge, muscly arms clutched me in a bear hug and instead of standing up for myself all I could do was grunt out some kind of concession as all the air left my lungs. “Miss me?”
“So much,” I wheezed sarcastically when he set me down again.
“I brought you something,” he smirked. From behind his back he pulled out a stylish bottle of some kind of alcohol. I had no chance of being able to read the label as it was in another language, and I had almost no experience with alcohol, but from the shape of the bottle and the wicked gleam in Lennox’s eyes it didn’t take a genius to figure out.
“What is it?” I laughed, knowing I would probably never drink it. He held it out to me and I reached for it, admiring the elegant characters and raised detailing on the label. I carried it over to my seat, in between Beckett and Grayson, and sat down while still trying to make out the label.
“Sake,” he answered. “It’s a Japanese rice wine; you’re going to love it.”
“Lennox!” my mother gasped. “She’s not even old enough for that yet.”
“Soon though. Right, Els?” Grayson asked in his gruff voice. He was so burly. Maybe not burly, but he radiated testosterone and manliness. If my brothers were their own mob, he was the muscle. He put a meaty hand around the back of my chair, tapping his fingers so that it felt like my entire body was vibrating. I shot him a nasty look but he just smirked in return, knowing he was being obnoxious.
“One month,” I squeaked, kind of embarrassed that my brothers were counting down the days until I could be legally intoxicated.
“Oh, life just goes by so fast,” my mother was teary-eyed again. “My
baby
is going to be twenty-one.”
I blushed deeper.
“It’s hard to believe, isn’t it Cec?” My dad asked my mom. They reached for each other’s hands on the table, squeezing tightly and gazing at me tenderly. They were an attractive couple, with my mom’s perfect grace and my dad’s easy going smile. His hair was a little more salt and pepper than the last time I’d seen him, but it only enhanced his looks. His eyes had deep laugh lines fanning out, and his trim look proved how well he took care of himself.
“Oh, our little Eleanor is growing up,” Beckett cooed in an annoyingly high pitched voice. I turned to roll my eyes at him and he grabbed both of my cheeks tightly, pinching them until my eyes watered.
“Beckett!” I gritted out through puckered lips. “Let go!” I shoved at his chest and finally he let go with a laugh. I rubbed at my sore skin, completely and irreversibly tomato-red.
“Thanks for the wine, Nox. I’ll save it for something special.”
“Like your birthday,” he intoned, sounding more like a parent than a brother. “That’s why I bought it Els. I’ll be offended if you don’t at least try it. I made a special trip to Tokyo and everything.”
“I’m sure that was just torture,” I shook my head at Lennox. That was how he was, everything he did was usually for selfish reasons, but he had this talent for making you feel like he sacrificed everything for you. He just shook his head at me, that same indulgent grin twisting the corners of his mouth. “Thank you, seriously. And I will try it. Right now, it’s the only definite plan I have for my birthday.”
“What?” Beckett demanded. “That cannot be possible! Aren’t your friends going to take you out? Help you celebrate? Force shot after shot down your throat until you puke all over yourself and pass out on some filthy bathroom floor?”
I shot him a fast glance to see if he was serious, “Um,” I looked back at my parents, waiting for them to jump in with lectures on all things moral high ground, but they were just laughing at him. He was so spoiled! I shot him another glare, “Um, no. Britte’s younger than me and I’m
not
making plans with Colton.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” Grayson growled.
“Britte’s
younger
than you? She’s younger than
you
?” Beckett half shouted. That was a bizarre response.
“Yes,” I replied before he continued to get louder.
“Since when?” he demanded. He looked a little panicked. Beckett was the laid back, take everything in stride type. He played ball well and hard and gave his little athlete’s one hundred and ten percent. But the rest of Beckett was…. shallow. He never got upset unless it had to do with me and a boy, or me and some injustice done to me, or me and…. anything. But even Lennox and Grayson couldn’t cajole him into a fight with them. He just smiled and laughed at them whenever they tried. Eventually they gave up and turned their brotherly bonding of teaming up against little brother into a serious competition between the oldest two. But now Beckett looked more than riled up…. He looked panicked.
“Since, always. What is with you?” I whispered in an attempt to settle him down.
Beckett ran a rough hand through his hair and glared down at me. “First of all, I was counting on her to take you out and show you a good time. Some friend she makes. SEcond of all, I know I’ve seen her at parties around campus, getting lit up and going home with randoms. She’s obviously a bad influence.”
“Ok, you just said you wanted her to take me out? And now she’s a bad influence for going to a few parties?” This was really confusing.
“Britte’s a party girl?” My mom asked, sounding subtly out-raged. “But she seems like such a nice girl, with a good head on her shoulders.”
“Doesn’t she want to be a surgeon?” My father asked dumbfounded.
“Gah!” I growled in frustration. And then I mimicked Beckett’s misplaced outrage, “First of all, mom and dad, Britte
is
a good girl. Beckett’s out of his mind for painting this picture of her. She’s been to a few parties, but she is by no means a party girl. School comes first for her,
always
. Even over our friendship. Trust me. And sEcond, Beckett have you lost your damn mind?”
I swung around to face him, letting him feel the full force of my anger when the entire table fell silent.
“Cursing? At the dinner table? Eleanor,” my mother chastised.
Oh no.
How had I let that slip out??
“Sorry,” I mumbled and then dived for my water. Damn- the table-silencing mother of all curse words. Someone pull out the bar of soap.
Luckily the waitress stopped by at that moment and began taking our orders. I hadn’t yet looked at the menu, so while everyone gave theirs I glanced at the dinner specials, picked out the first chicken dish listed- just to be contrary- and then pretended I had been ready the entire time.
After the waitress collected our dinner orders and a few more drink orders from, well, everybody but me, Beckett squeezed my knee under the table. I waited until Lennox started telling stories about his trip to China before I acknowledged Beckett.
“What?” I whispered harshly.
“You’ve never cussed in front of Cecelia and Drake before,” he whispered back as if I didn’t know. He loved using my mom and dad’s first names, as if he were too cool for parents. They let him, because he was disgustingly spoiled.
“Give me a break; you say worse stuff all the time.”
“Yeah, I do. But they already know I’m a screw-up. You’re their perfect daughter, valedictorian, track star, accomplished artist. You’re not supposed to say bad words.”
“Oh please, that’s such a double standard,” I growled. “And I was
not
valedictorian! I was salutatorian. That’s like sEcond place. That’s like losing.”
Beckett snorted loudly at that.
My mom shot us a dirty look in the middle of Lennox laughing through the punch line of one of his stories. I plastered on a smile and turned away from Beckett so I could pay attention better.
“Bad words now, Els, really?” Grayson started in as soon as I was facing his direction. “What exactly has gotten into you?”
“Are you kidding me right now?” I hissed.
“This is about Hunter, isn’t it?” Beckett accused, back in my ear again.
“Oh no,” I muttered, shaking my head in defeat.
“Are the rumors true, Els?” Grayson demanded. “Are you dating him?”
“What?” I squeaked.
“That’s what everyone’s saying,” Beckett actually sounded disappointed in me.
Beckett
was disappointed in
me
!
“That I’m dating Fin?”
“Oh so you
are
dating him, huh?” Grayson sounded murderous.
“Stop it, both of you-“
“I will kill him, Ellie,” Beckett’s rage was escalating too. They were like rabid wild animals on the scent of a new and unaware prey. “If he’s laid a finger on you, just one, slimy, degenerate finger on you, I will
kill
him.”
“Oh, my gosh.” This was getting out of hand.
“Has he forced you to do anything you’re not comfortable with? You can be honest. We won’t hurt
you
.” Grayson’s voice dropped to that deadly octave that only dangerous males could make convincing. The one that created mental images of baseball bats and bloody knees.
“Stop it, seriously!” I hissed at them. Which in turn grabbed the attention of my parents and Lennox too, mid-punch line even. That was kind of an accomplishment. “I’m
not
dating Fin.”