1
*For all of the John Logan/Off Campus fans out there❤️*
Logan
By nine-thirty on Friday night, there are approximately a hundred people in our house, somebody has broken a lamp in the living room, and Dean Di Laurentis is trying to convince a girl that he invented beer pong.
It’s shaping up to be a pretty decent night.
“I’m serious,” Dean tells her, leaning against the kitchen island with the kind of confidence that should probably be illegal. “Freshman year. Came up with the whole thing myself.”
The girl, a blonde in a black tank top, looks between him and the red plastic cups arranged on the kitchen table.
“You invented beer pong?”
“Technically, I perfected it.”
“That’s not what you said.”
“History is complicated, sweetheart.”
I take a drink from my beer.
“Yeah, especially when you’re making it up.”
Dean shoots me a look.
“I’m having a conversation.”
“You’re committing fraud.”
“Jesus Christ, Logan. You ever think about supporting your friends?”
“Every day. Then you open your mouth.”
The blonde laughs.
Dean points at me. “You’re killing my game.”
“Pretty sure your game was dead when you claimed to have invented something that’s been around since our parents were getting drunk in college.”
“Thank you,” the girl says, smiling at me.
I lift my beer in acknowledgment.
Dean looks personally betrayed.
“Unbelievable.”
He turns back to her, apparently deciding that his chances are better if he ignores my existence entirely.
Fair enough.
I leave him to it.
The kitchen is packed, which isn’t unusual for a Friday night at Briar. Our house has somehow become the unofficial headquarters for people who enjoy drinking cheap beer, making questionable decisions, and occasionally setting things on fire.
That last one is mostly Dean.
The music is loud enough to rattle the cabinets. Someone has dragged our coffee table into the hallway to make room for dancing, and there’s a girl sitting on the counter eating cereal straight from the box.
I don’t recognize her.
I’m also fairly certain the cereal belongs to Tucker.
He’s going to be pissed.
I make my way through the crowd toward the living room, exchanging greetings with a few guys from the hockey team.
“Logan!”
I turn.
Matt, one of our defensemen, is standing near the staircase with a beer in each hand.
“What’s up?”
“You coming to the rink tomorrow?”
“Coach said optional skate.”
“Yeah, but Garrett’s going.”
“Garrett would show up to practice on Christmas morning if Coach asked nicely.”
Matt laughs. “Probably.”
“I’m thinking about it.”
“Ten?”
“Text me.”
He nods and disappears into the crowd.
I take another drink.
It’s been a long fucking week.
Between practices, classes, and a phone call from my sister that I haven’t entirely stopped thinking about, I was more than ready to spend tonight doing absolutely nothing productive.
So far, mission accomplished.
I find Garrett on the couch with Hannah tucked against his side.
She’s saying something to him, her hand resting on his thigh, and he’s looking at her with the same stupid expression he’s been wearing since they got together.
It’s honestly getting embarrassing.
The guy used to have a personality.
Now he spends half his time smiling at his girlfriend like she personally invented oxygen.
“Graham.”
He looks up.
“Logan.”
“You know there’s a party happening, right?”
He glances around the room.
“Really? Thought all these people were here for a book club.”
“Wouldn’t surprise me. Hannah’s got you domesticated.”
Hannah laughs.
Garrett flips me off.
“Jealous?”
“Of what? Your exciting evening of sitting on the couch?”
“Of having a girlfriend.”
“Absolutely not.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Hannah tilts her head.
“Didn’t you have a date last night?”
“Wasn’t a date.”
“What was it?”
“Dinner.”
“With a girl?”
“Generally my preferred company.”
She gives me a look.
I grin.
“Relax, Wells. We had dinner. We had a good time. Nobody’s planning a wedding.”
“Did you call her afterward?”
“It’s been twenty-four hours.”
“So no.”
“I’m starting to understand why Garrett never wins arguments with you.”
“He wins sometimes,” she says.
Garrett nods.
“Thank you.”
“When I let him.”
I laugh.
Garrett sighs and pulls her closer.
“I’m surrounded by assholes.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “But one of us is significantly prettier than the other.”
Hannah smiles sweetly.
“Thanks, Logan.”
“Wasn’t talking about you.”
Garrett throws a couch pillow at my head.
I catch it and toss it onto the armchair.
“Violence. Nice.”
“Go bother somebody else.”
“Gladly.”
I start to turn away, but Hannah catches my arm.
“Hey, is Maddie coming tonight?”
“Pretty sure.”
Garrett checks his phone.
“She said she and Liv were heading over after they finished getting ready.”
“Good.” Hannah smiles. “I haven’t seen her all week.”
“Neither have I,” Garrett says.
I snort.
“You saw her Tuesday.”
“That was three days ago.”
“Congratulations. You can count.”
He ignores me.
“Maddie’s been buried in schoolwork.”
“She’s a nursing major,” Hannah points out. “That’s kind of expected.”
“Yeah, well, she keeps forgetting to eat.”
I look at him.
“She’s twenty, Graham. Pretty sure she can operate a refrigerator.”
“You haven’t seen the inside of her fridge.”
“Actually, I have. It’s mostly yogurt, iced coffee, and whatever Liv hasn’t stolen.”
“Exactly.”
“Sounds like a balanced diet to me.”
Garrett shakes his head.
I’ve known the guy long enough to recognize when he’s slipping into overprotective-big-brother mode.
Which, to be fair, is pretty much always.
He and Maddie have the kind of relationship where they’ll insult each other for twenty minutes straight, then turn around and commit a felony if somebody messes with the other one.
It’s sweet.
In an emotionally unstable sort of way.
“Speaking of Maddie,” Hannah says, looking past me, “there she is.”
I turn.
And there, pushing through the crowd with Olivia Bennett following close behind, is the biggest pain in my ass who doesn’t currently live under this roof.
Madelyn Graham.
Or Maddie, because calling her Madelyn is a good way to get something thrown at your head.
She’s wearing jeans, white sneakers, and a dark green top, her long brown hair falling in loose waves over her shoulders.
She’s got her phone in one hand and a small purse tucked under her arm.
Liv says something to her.
Maddie laughs.
Then she spots us.
Her face brightens.
“Hey!”
She makes her way over, weaving around a couple making out near the doorway.
“Jesus,” she mutters as she passes them. “Get a room.”
“They’re working on it,” I tell her.
She looks at me.
And immediately rolls her eyes.
“Oh, great. You’re here.”
I spread my arms.
“Try to contain your excitement.”
“I’m trying to contain my disappointment.”
“Aw, Mads. Missed you too.”
She steps forward and lets me pull her into a quick hug.
I give her a squeeze before releasing her.
“Where’ve you been hiding?”
“School. You should try it sometime.”
“I go to school.”
“Showing up for hockey practice doesn’t count as attending college.”
“That’s hurtful.”
“Good.”
She moves past me to hug Hannah.
Garrett gets up from the couch and pulls his sister into his arms.
“Hey, squirt.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Still short.”
“Still annoying.”
He kisses the top of her head.
“How’s school?”
“Fine.”
“Eating?”
She pulls back and stares at him.
“Are you seriously asking me that?”
“Yes.”
“Garrett.”
“Maddie.”
“I ate dinner.”
“What’d you have?”
She looks at Hannah.
“Is he always like this?”
Hannah smiles.
“Pretty much.”
“Unbelievable.”
Garrett crosses his arms.
“Well?”
“Chicken.”
“With?”
“Food.”
I laugh.
Garrett points at her.
“Smartass.”
“Runs in the family.”
“Unfortunately.”
Liv finally reaches us, looking mildly exasperated.
“Your house is ridiculous.”
I glance around.
“Thank you.”
“That wasn’t a compliment.”
“I choose to take it as one.”
She laughs and gives Hannah a hug.
Liv’s been Maddie’s best friend since freshman year, and I’ve seen enough of her to know she’s got a mouth almost as dangerous as Maddie’s.
Which is saying something.
“Where’s Tucker?” she asks.
“Kitchen,” I tell her. “Probably trying to prevent Dean from getting arrested.”
“Again?”
“It’s a full-time job.”
Liv shakes her head.
“I’m getting a drink.”
“I’ll come with you,” Hannah says.
The two of them head toward the kitchen.
Maddie watches them go before turning back to me.
“Where’s Dean?”
“Attempting to rewrite American history.”
She blinks.
“What?”
“Claims he invented beer pong.”
There’s a beat of silence.
Then Maddie bursts out laughing.
“Oh my God.”
“Yeah.”
“Please tell me somebody believed him.”
“Not even a little.”
“That’s embarrassing.”
“For everybody involved.”
She grins.
“God, I’ve missed this place.”
Garrett looks at her.
“You were here last weekend.”
“Yeah, and?”
“You act like you’ve been gone for six months.”
“Maybe I have a very emotional attachment to your disgusting house.”
“That’s concerning,” I say.
“It’s called loyalty, Logan.”
“It’s called needing higher standards.”
She points at me.
“You live here.”
“Exactly. I know what happens in these bathrooms.”
“Ew.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Garrett groans.
“Can you two not start?”
Maddie and I look at him.
“What?” we say together.
He closes his eyes.
“Jesus Christ.”
I grin.
This is going to be fun.
Twenty minutes later, Maddie has stolen half my nachos, Dean has lost two consecutive games of beer pong, and somebody has started chanting Tucker’s name from the kitchen.
I don’t know why.
At this point, I don’t ask.
We’re gathered around the dining room table, which is currently serving as a makeshift buffet.
There’s pizza, chips, a bowl of something suspiciously orange, and a tray of nachos I specifically ordered because I was hungry.
Apparently, Maddie considers that an invitation.
“Those are mine,” I tell her.
She reaches for another chip.
“Were yours.”
“Maddie.”
“Logan.”
“Get your own.”
“Sharing is caring.”
“I don’t care.”
She pops the chip into her mouth.
“Clearly.”
I move the tray farther away.
She leans across me to grab another one.
“Are you kidding?”
“What?”
“You have your entire body in my food.”
“I’m five-four. It’s not that much body.”
“That’s debatable.”
She gasps.
“Did you just call me fat?”
“No. I called you short and irritating.”
“Wow.”
“Big difference.”
She turns toward Garrett, who’s sitting across from us.
“Your best friend is bullying me.”
Garrett doesn’t even look up from his phone.
“Good.”
“Garrett!”
“You stole his food.”
“Whose side are you on?”
“The side that wants to eat pizza in peace.”
I point at him.
“See? Reasonable.”
Maddie narrows her eyes.
“You two deserve each other.”
“Aw,” I say. “You hear that, Graham? She approves.”
“I’m touched.”
“I’m surrounded by idiots,” Maddie mutters.
She reaches for another nacho.
I catch her wrist.
“Nope.”
“Let go.”
“Get your own.”
“Logan.”
“Maddie.”
She looks at my hand.
Then at my face.
And smiles.
I know that smile.
I’ve known it since she was fourteen years old.
It’s the smile she gets approximately half a second before doing something stupid.
“Don’t,” I warn.
Too late.
Her free hand darts toward the tray.
I pull it away.
She lunges.
The chair scrapes against the floor.
“Give me one!”
“Absolutely not!”
“John!”
“Oh, we’re using government names now?”
She makes another grab for the nachos.
I stand, lifting the tray over my head.
Maddie gets to her feet.
“Are you seriously doing this?”
“Are you seriously trying to rob me?”
“It’s a tortilla chip!”
“Then why are you so desperate?”
“Because you’re being an asshole!”
“Language, young lady.”
She kicks my shin.
“Fuck you.”
Garrett looks up.
“Can you two stop fighting over food like fucking toddlers?”
“Tell your sister to behave.”
“Tell your best friend to stop being a dick.”
Garrett stares at both of us.
Then he picks up his pizza and walks away.
“Not my problem.”
Maddie watches him go.
“Traitor.”
I lower the tray.
Big mistake.
She snatches a chip, grins triumphantly, and bolts toward the living room.
I stare after her.
Then shake my head.
“Unbelievable.”
From behind me, Tucker says, “You know you could’ve just given her one.”
I turn.
He’s standing in the doorway holding a bottle of water.
“It’s the principle.”
“Right.”
“She can’t keep stealing my food.”
“She has been stealing your food for, what, six years?”
“Seven.”
“Then I don’t think you’re winning this one.”
I consider that.
“Fair point.”
Tucker takes a drink.
“Besides, you always buy extra.”
I look at him.
He raises his eyebrows.
I shrug.
“Because she’s a fucking thief.”
“Sure.”
And with that, he walks away.
Asshole.
The party only gets louder as the night goes on.
Somebody changes the music to a playlist that’s apparently ninety percent songs Dean thinks he can sing.
He can’t.
Not even a little.
At one point, I find him standing on the couch with a beer in his hand, belting out the chorus of a song while three girls record him.
Garrett looks ready to commit murder.
“Get down!”
Dean points at him.
“You’re ruining the moment!”
“You’re standing on my couch!”
“Our couch,” Dean corrects.
“Get the fuck down!”
“Fine, Dad.”
He hops off.
Garrett mutters something under his breath.
I clap him on the shoulder.
“Parenthood looks good on you.”
“Shut up.”
“Maybe Maddie can teach you how to braid hair.”
He gives me a look.
“Keep talking.”
I grin.
Across the room, Maddie is dancing with Hannah and Liv.
They’re laughing about something, and Liv has both hands in the air while Hannah tries to copy whatever ridiculous move she’s doing.
Maddie notices me watching.
She points at me.
Then makes a dramatic come-here gesture.
I shake my head.
She rolls her eyes.
A second later, she’s pushing through the crowd toward me.
“Come dance.”
“No.”
“Come on.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Why?”
“Because I have dignity.”
She looks over my shoulder toward Dean, who’s attempting to climb back onto the couch.
“Really? You live with that.”
“Exactly. Somebody has to maintain standards.”
Maddie grabs my wrist.
“Logan.”
“Maddie.”
“One song.”
“No.”
“Please?”
I narrow my eyes.
She’s giving me the same expression she used to give Garrett’s mom when she wanted something.
Big hazel eyes.
Ridiculously innocent face.
Complete bullshit.
“You’re not fooling anybody.”
She smiles.
“It’s working, though.”
“No, it isn’t.”
She tugs my arm.
I don’t move.
She tugs harder.
I sigh.
“Jesus. Fine.”
“YES!”
She practically drags me toward the living room.
I go because it’s easier than listening to her complain.
And because, frankly, I could use another drink.
For the next few minutes, I endure whatever terrible song Liv has requested while Maddie and Hannah dance around us.
Dean appears out of nowhere.
“LOGAN!”
“What?”
“Bro!”
“What?”
He throws an arm around my shoulders.
“This is our song!”
“I don’t think we have a song.”
“We do now!”
I look at Maddie.
She’s laughing so hard she has to grab Hannah’s arm.
I point at her.
“This is your fault.”
She gives me two thumbs-up.
“Love you too, Johnny!”
I flip her off.
She blows me a sarcastic kiss.
Garrett appears beside Hannah, wraps an arm around her waist, and pulls her against him.
“Having fun?”
Hannah nods.
“Your sister’s trying to kill Logan.”
“Good.”
“Everybody’s very supportive tonight,” I mutter.
Garrett grins.
“That’s what family is for.”
By eleven, I’ve lost track of how many people have come through the front door.
I haven’t had enough beer to make that my problem.
Dean, on the other hand, has apparently decided the night needs a competitive element.
Which is how we end up with a group of people gathered around the kitchen table playing some bastardized combination of flip cup and trivia.
I don’t know who came up with the rules.
I’m pretty sure nobody else does either.
“Okay,” Dean announces, holding up his phone. “Next question.”
Maddie sits on the counter beside Liv, swinging her legs.
Garrett stands near the refrigerator with Hannah tucked under his arm.
Tucker is leaning against the sink.
I’m sitting on a stool, trying to figure out why I’m still participating.
Dean clears his throat.
“What year did—”
“Wait,” Maddie interrupts.
Dean looks up.
“What?”
“Can we ask normal questions?”
“These are normal questions.”
“Your last question was how many girls you’ve kissed.”
“That’s important information.”
“To who?”
“Historians.”
Liv laughs.
Tucker rubs a hand over his face.
“Just ask the question, Dean.”
“Thank you.”
Dean looks back at his phone.
“What year did Garrett Graham first meet John Logan?”
I blink.
“That’s not trivia.”
“It’s personal trivia.”
“You’re making this up.”
“Correct. That’s how games work.”
Garrett snorts.
Maddie straightens.
“Oh, I know this.”
“Of course you do,” I say.
She ignores me.
“Junior hockey. Garrett was sixteen.”
“Fifteen,” Garrett corrects.
She frowns.
“No, you were sixteen.”
“I was fifteen when we met.”
“You turned sixteen that season.”
“Exactly.”
Maddie looks at me.
“Back me up.”
I take a drink.
“He’s right.”
She gasps.
“Traitor.”
“You’re bad at math.”
“I’m literally studying medication calculations.”
“Terrifying.”
She points at me.
“Keep talking and I’ll tell them about the tournament in Boston.”
I freeze.
Garrett starts laughing.
“Oh, shit.”
Dean’s head snaps up.
“What tournament in Boston?”
“Nothing,” I say.
Maddie grins.
“Oh, it was something.”
“Maddie.”
“John.”
“Don’t.”
She turns toward Dean.
“So, when Garrett and Logan were teenagers—”
I stand.
“Maddie Graham.”
“—they went to this tournament in Boston, and Logan had apparently decided he was God’s gift to women.”
Dean looks delighted.
“Continue.”
“I was sixteen,” I protest.
“Exactly,” Maddie says. “And there was this girl at the hotel who he thought was really cute.”
Garrett is laughing so hard he’s leaning against the counter.
I glare at him.
“You’re supposed to be my best friend.”
“Sorry, man. This one’s too good.”
Maddie continues.
“Anyway, Logan spent the entire weekend trying to impress her.”
“I talked to her twice.”
“You tried to do a backflip into the hotel pool.”
Dean doubles over.
“NO.”
I point at Maddie.
“That was Garrett’s idea.”
“Bullshit,” Garrett says.
“You dared me!”
“And you did it!”
Maddie is wheezing.
“The lifeguard kicked him out.”
“Because the pool was closed!”
“Because you almost landed on a twelve-year-old!”
“I did not almost land on a twelve-year-old!”
Tucker looks at me.
“Did you at least get the girl’s number?”
I stare at him.
Maddie answers before I can.
“Nope.”
Dean slaps the counter.
“OH MY GOD.”
“Can we move on?”
“She gave him her friend’s number,” Maddie adds.
Garrett loses it.
Dean actually bends over, laughing.
Liv wipes at her eyes.
Even Tucker is grinning.
I look around the kitchen.
“You’re all dead to me.”
Maddie beams.
“Love you, Johnny.”
I point at her.
“Keep it up, Graham. I’ve got stories.”
Her smile falters.
I grin.
“Oh, yeah.”
“Don’t.”
“Remember that summer at Garrett’s house when you decided you were going to become a professional skateboarder?”
Her eyes widen.
“Logan.”
“And you tried to jump the curb in front of the driveway?”
“John.”
“And you ended up in Mrs. Graham’s rosebushes?”
Dean makes a strangled noise.
Maddie slides off the counter.
“I’m going to kill you.”
“You cried because you thought the roses were dead.”
“I was fourteen!”
“You apologized to the bush.”
Garrett is laughing again.
“She did.”
“I hate both of you!”
“Aw, come on, Mads.”
She lunges toward me.
I catch her around the shoulders before she can smack me and tuck her into a loose headlock.
“Say you’re sorry.”
“Eat shit!”
“Wrong answer.”
She grabs my forearm.
“Garrett!”
Garrett doesn’t move.
“Nope. You started it.”
“YOU’RE MY BROTHER!”
“Should’ve thought about that before bringing up Boston.”
I mess up her hair.
She makes a noise of pure outrage.
“LOGAN!”
“Apologize.”
“NEVER!”
I release her.
She immediately spins around and punches my arm.
Hard.
“Ow!”
“Good!”
I laugh.
She starts fixing her hair, glaring at me.
“You’re such an asshole.”
“And yet you keep coming back.”
“Only because Garrett lives here.”
“Sure.”
She flips me off.
I blow her a kiss.
Dean looks between us.
“Jesus Christ.”
“What?” Maddie demands.
“Nothing. It’s just like watching two twelve-year-olds fight over the front seat.”
“She’s worse,” I tell him.
“HE’S WORSE,” Maddie says at the same time.
Dean raises both hands.
“Point proven.”
Around midnight, the crowd begins to thin.
Not dramatically.
There are still enough people in the house to violate several fire codes.
But the music gets turned down, the drinking games start falling apart, and somebody finally cleans up the beer that was spilled near the kitchen door.
I’m leaning against the counter talking to Tucker about tomorrow’s optional skate when Maddie appears beside me.
She’s checking her phone.
And smiling.
I glance at her.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’ve got that weird face.”
She looks up.
“What weird face?”
“The one you make when somebody tells you there’s free food.”
She elbows me.
“Shut up.”
I grin.
“Blake?”
Her smile widens a little.
“Yeah.”
“What’s Prince Charming up to?”
“Don’t call him that.”
“Sorry. His Royal Highness.”
“Logan.”
“What?”
She shakes her head, still smiling at her phone.
“He wants me to come over.”
I take a drink of water.
“Now?”
“Yeah. He just got home.”
“Thought he was busy tonight.”
“He was out with some friends.”
I nod.
I’ve met Blake Harrison enough times to know he’s not exactly my favorite person.
He’s one of those guys who’s always perfectly polite when people are watching, always dressed like he’s on his way to an interview at his father’s company, and always seems mildly annoyed when Maddie spends time with us.
But whatever.
He’s her boyfriend.
She’s happy.
That’s what matters.
“You heading out?”
“Probably.”
“You need a ride?”
She shakes her head.
“He said he’ll come get me.”
“Good.”
She puts her phone away.
“You sound disappointed.”
“Devastated. Who’s going to steal my food now?”
“Dean.”
“Dean pays for his own food.”
“No, he doesn’t.”
“Okay, fair.”
She laughs.
Then looks toward the living room.
“I should find Garrett.”
“Good luck. Last I saw, he and Hannah were making out in the hallway.”
“Ew.”
“Exactly.”
“Can you tell him I’m leaving if you see him?”
“Yeah.”
“Thanks.”
She starts to walk away.
Then stops.
“Oh, wait.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“What?”
“Can I borrow a hoodie?”
I stare at her.
“You’re wearing a jacket.”
“It’s thin.”
“Then buy a thicker jacket.”
“Logan.”
“Maddie.”
“Please?”
I sigh.
“Why do you always steal my clothes?”
“Because they’re comfortable.”
“You have clothes.”
“Yours are better.”
“That’s because I have taste.”
She gives me a look.
“You own a shirt that says Beer Me.”
“It’s a classic.”
“It’s a crime.”
I shake my head.
“Go get one.”
She grins.
“Love you!”
“Yeah, yeah.”
She disappears upstairs.
Tucker watches her go.
Then looks at me.
“You realize you’re never seeing that hoodie again.”
“I know.”
“Why’d you let her take it?”
“Because otherwise she’d stand here whining for twenty minutes.”
He considers that.
“Fair.”
I check my phone.
A message from Jules sits near the top of my notifications.
Jules: You alive?
I smile.
Me: Unfortunately.
Three dots appear almost immediately.
Jules: Good. Need you to call me tomorrow.
My smile fades a little.
Me: Everything okay?
A pause.
Jules: Yeah. Just wanna talk.
I stare at the screen.
Then type back.
Me: I’ll call in the morning. Promise.
She sends a heart.
I put my phone away.
Tucker is watching me.
“Everything good?”
“Yeah.”
“You sure?”
I nod.
“Just Jules.”
He doesn’t push.
That’s one of the things I like about Tucker.
The guy knows when to ask questions and when to leave shit alone.
“Tell her I said hey,” he says.
“Will do.”
A few minutes later, Maddie comes back downstairs wearing my favorite navy Briar hoodie.
Of course.
Of all the fucking hoodies in my closet, she picked that one.
I point at her.
“No.”
She looks down.
“What?”
“Not that one.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s my favorite.”
“Mine too.”
“It’s not yours.”
“Details.”
I hold out my hand.
“Give it back.”
She steps away.
“Nope.”
“Maddie.”
“Logan.”
“Pick another one.”
“Too late.”
“You’ve been wearing it for thirty seconds.”
“And we’ve already bonded.”
I stare at her.
She smiles sweetly.
“You wouldn’t separate us, would you?”
“Jesus Christ.”
She laughs.
“Thank you.”
“I’m billing you.”
“Put it on my tab.”
“You already owe me three hoodies and a phone charger.”
“Two hoodies.”
“Three.”
“The gray one was a gift.”
“It was not a gift.”
“You said I could keep it.”
“I said you could borrow it.”
“Same thing.”
I shake my head.
“Your definition of borrowing is criminal.”
“Call the cops.”
“Maybe I will.”
She pats my cheek.
“Love you, Johnny.”
I swat her hand away.
“Get out of my house.”
“Gladly.”
She’s still laughing when Garrett appears in the doorway.
“Where are you going?”
“Blake’s picking me up.”
Garrett glances at the clock.
“It’s midnight.”
“Yes, Garrett. Very good.”
“Don’t be a smartass.”
“Don’t ask stupid questions.”
He gives her a look.
She gives him one right back.
For a second, it’s like watching somebody argue with a mirror.
Then Garrett sighs.
“Text me when you get there.”
“I will.”
“And don’t forget your—”
“Phone, keys, dignity. Got it.”
I snort.
Garrett points at me.
“Don’t encourage her.”
“Too late.”
Maddie hugs her brother.
He squeezes her tight and kisses the top of her head.
“Love you, squirt.”
“Love you too, idiot.”
Hannah appears behind him.
“Leaving?”
“Yeah. Blake’s coming.”
Hannah smiles and hugs her.
“Text me tomorrow?”
“Of course.”
“Good. We still need to talk about next weekend.”
Maddie nods.
“Absolutely.”
Liv comes over from the living room, holding a red cup.
“You abandoning me?”
“Blake’s picking me up.”
Liv raises an eyebrow.
“Ah.”
Maddie gives her a look.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Liv.”
“I said nothing.”
Maddie narrows her eyes.
Then hugs her.
“Don’t do anything stupid.”
Liv laughs.
“I’m at a hockey-house party. That’s a pretty big request.”
“Fair.”
She turns toward the door.
I follow her because somebody should probably make sure she doesn’t trip over the mountain of shoes piled in the entryway.
And because I want my fucking hoodie back.
At the front door, Maddie slips on her sneakers.
I lean against the wall.
“You know, I’m starting to think you only come here for free food and clothes.”
She looks up.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?”
“Sometimes I come for the free alcohol.”
I laugh.
“At least you’re honest.”
She straightens.
Then looks at me.
“Hey.”
“What?”
“Thanks for letting me steal your hoodie.”
“You didn’t exactly ask permission.”
“I did.”
“After you’d already decided to take it.”
She shrugs.
“Technicalities.”
I shake my head.
“Just don’t spill anything on it.”
She glances down at the navy fabric.
“Like what?”
“Anything.”
“Blood?”
“Especially blood.”
“Vomit?”
“Jesus, Maddie.”
“Coffee?”
“I’m begging you to stop talking.”
She grins.
Then steps forward and throws her arms around my middle.
I hug her back automatically.
“See you later, loser,” she says against my chest.
“Later, brat.”
She pulls away.
And because she’s Maddie, she reaches up and deliberately messes up my hair.
I stare at her.
She laughs.
“Bye!”
Then she’s out the door before I can retaliate.
I step onto the porch.
“MADDIE!”
She turns around halfway down the steps.
“What?”
“You’re dead next time I see you!”
She gives me the finger.
I laugh.
“Love you too!”
She grins and heads toward the driveway, where a car has just pulled up.
Blake’s car.
She practically skips the last few steps.
He gets out, and she throws her arms around him.
He kisses her.
She smiles.
I watch long enough to make sure she’s safely at the car, then turn back toward the house.
Garrett is standing in the doorway.
“She’s gone?”
“Yep.”
“Blake picked her up?”
“Yep.”
He nods.
Then looks at me.
“Is she wearing your hoodie?”
I sigh.
“Don’t.”
Garrett bursts out laughing.
“Again?”
“I’m starting to think your sister has a problem.”
“She’s been stealing your shit since she was fourteen.”
“Yeah, and somehow I’m the one who’s always surprised.”
Garrett shakes his head.
“You know she’s never giving that back.”
“I’m aware.”
“You could stop letting her take them.”
I stare at him.
He stares back.
Then we both laugh.
Because we both know that’s never going to happen.
Maddie Graham has been stealing my food, my clothes, and my patience for the better part of seven years.
At this point, I’m pretty sure it’s a hobby.
Garrett claps me on the shoulder.
“Come on. Dean’s trying to convince Tucker to let him jump off the garage roof.”
I close my eyes.
“Why?”
“Something about proving he could survive a fall.”
“Of course.”
“He’s got a mattress.”
“That makes it worse.”
“Yep.”
I follow Garrett inside.
Somewhere upstairs, Dean shouts, “I’M TELLING YOU, IT’LL WORK!”
Tucker yells something back that sounds a lot like absolutely fucking not.
Garrett sighs.
I grin.
Just another Friday night at Briar.
And if I’m lucky, by the time I wake up tomorrow, the house will still be standing.
