“Don’t tell me what to do!” Ryker had yelled, throwing a wrench on the ground.

“I’m your big brother,” retorted Heath.

“By a whopping eighteen months, dickhead. That don’t mean shit.”

“Yeah, well I’m bigger than your punk ass, so shut your fucking head up and do as you’re told!”

While they made almost every situation tense with their never ending sibling rivalry, there were good times too. They had looked out for each other, never letting an issue sit on the side without assistance. Except for the criminal part, they did practically everything together; and aside from fighting, Heath was clean and had badgered Ryker to be the same.

That obviously didn’t go well at all.

“Who are you?” came a feminine voice.

I turned around and came face to face with a beautiful brunette, dressed in a miniskirt and tight white top. Her boobs were pushed up high, practically touching her chin, and her face was caked in bright make-up. She looked like your typical Hedley gem that prowled the streets at night.

I didn’t respond to her, and when she came a few steps closer, I saw the gritty look in her eyes. She put a hand on each hip and said slowly, “I asked you a question, little girl.”

Little girl? I frowned and stared daggers at her. I was eighteen. I wasn’t a little girl, but I couldn’t really blame anyone for thinking so. My body hadn’t developed as much as other girls my age. My breasts were small and I was very skinny. Mom once called me a “late bloomer.”

She smirked at me while her eyes travelled my body, scrutinizing my black board shorts and baggy white t-shirt. Her brows shot up and a look of distaste took over her features.

“If you be thinkin’ for a second that he gonna go home witchu instead of me, then you be smokin’ somethin’ heavy.”

I cringed at the verbal diarrhoea she was spewing. Girls like her made up ninety percent of the female population at my school, and they talked like they belonged in a ghetto kindergarten.

Clearly she was intending on going home with Heath, which was fine. I had no qualms with that. If he liked half-naked girls who couldn’t string two words properly then that was his prerogative. It wasn’t unusual either. From what I’d seen, he wasn’t tameable, and he wasn’t a relationship kind of guy.

“I just need to talk to Heath,” I told her, trying to avoid an argument. I wasn’t big on confrontations. I avoided them at all costs mostly because they made me anxious and shaky.

“And what makes you think Lawson gonna wanna talk witchu?”

Bloody hell, my ears ached. I heaved a shrug. “Maybe because he knows me?”

She let out an unladylike grunt, sceptical of my words. “We’ll see bout that,” she muttered defensively. She crossed her arms and leaned against the front of the truck, staring in the direction of the entrance. She snuck in dirty glances at me and I was fine with it so long as she wasn’t talking.

When Heath finally came out, he was talking to a bunch of guys. One of them was Matt, one of Ryker’s closest friends, looking pretty good in a muscle shirt and gelled up blonde hair. He still paled next to Heath. He had thrown on a shirt, but his hands were still corded in red boxing tape and his body gleamed with sweat under the moonlight. I heard his laughter as he said goodbye and made his way to the truck. His steps slowed when his eyes met mine and then flickered to the girl that was suddenly standing up straight and smiling brightly at him.

“Hey, Lawson,” she said, reaching for his arm.

“Hey,” he mumbled to her, but his focus was right back on me.

I took a step forward and waved at him lamely, opening my mouth to talk when she interrupted with, “I bet on you, you know. You gonna make it up to me?”

Heath wasn’t looking at her. He was staring hard at me with confusion on his face. “You alright?” he asked me.

I nodded stiffly. “Yeah, I’m alright.” In the physical sense, anyway. “I need to talk to you, though.”

He glimpsed around the empty streets. “Al, you’re not alone, are you?”

Al. God, I hated when he called me that. It made me sound like a boy.

I nodded again. “Yeah, I am.”

He exhaled, a look of irritation crossing his face. “It’s a real dodgy place here. You shouldn’t be alone.”

“I’m alone,” piped the girl, her hand still wrapped around his arm. “You gonna take care of that, Lawson?”

Directing his irritation at her, he snapped, “Do I know you?”

She looked unperturbed by his tone and giggled. “We met at the last party we was at. Hit it off and everything. You promised me a date. Don’t remember that?”

I watched her bat her eyelashes and stick her chest out. God, this was awkward.

“I haven’t been to a party in months,” he retorted, glaring at her now. “And I don’t promise people dates. How about you get on your way now?”

She blinked at him and then let go of his arm. “I ain’t lying –”

“Then you have me confused with someone else.” His face was hard, but he softened his tone as he added, “Hon, I’m not picking anyone up. That’s not my thing, alright?”

She didn’t respond for a moment. She was clearly not expecting that kind of reaction. She almost looked wounded.

“Go and have a good night,” he continued.

Embarrassed, she hurried away, her heels clacking against the pavement in haste. I felt a little bad for her. She obviously had her hopes up, and she had every right to given how pretty she was. I watched her fade away in the distance, impressed by his kind decline. I’d seen some awful rejections in my time.

“What’s going on, Allie?” he then asked, focusing back on me. I guessed letting girls down was a common occurrence for him because he was completely unaffected by it.

“No ‘hello, how are you’?” I asked light-heartedly.

He tilted his head to the side. “Since when have you ever come up to me before? This is not you. We’re not close. Something’s obviously up, and I don’t like beating around the bush.”

“Beating around the bush,” I repeated thoughtfully. “Interesting saying, that.”

“Allie.”

“I need your help.”

“Okay,” he said cautiously, “continue.”