Page 112 of Bring You Back

I snort, but otherwise ignore that, driving the hinting home with,You should try it.

I’m always nice.

I roll my eyes, then send,Where are you?

The court with Mason.

Ah, Mason Crabbs. So much I can say about that guy, including an overused joke about his last name. He was on the basketball team with Tommy. He’d made some comment once about how he wanted to put his fingers inside the rips of my jeans and lift me like a bowling ball. So, a month later for his birthday, he got just that: a bowling ball wrapped in a box and delivered by yours truly right to his front door. He stopped the comments after that, at least to my face.

Take a break,I text Tommy.You can’t force it. You’re overworked. Rest until you miss it.

Already tried that,he says, reminding me of the days I’d seen him without the ball.Didn’t work.

I sigh for him, sorry for what he’s grappling with. Having nothing else to offer on the subject, I focus back onrisks, deciding to tell him,I teased Reyna about you two going to the caves. She turned bright pink and showed some severe denial.

Which wouldn’t have been Reyna’s reaction to the thought if she hadn’t already thought about it herself at least once. Tommy’s aware of this, and I’m aware that he’s going to make another excuse, but herfavoriteneeds to know the possibility of her having thought about him.

Dots appear on my screen as he responds. Then disappear. Appear. Disappear. I laugh down at my phone, and his text finally comes through once I’m stopped outside my destination.She was embarrassed.Then,Gotta go.

Bawk, bawk,I text before pocketing my phone, leaving it at that, and walk inside my favorite place to be. Oh, and look, my favorite person is back. “You’re here again,why?” I question Banks with a glare at Reyna, meeting her behind the counter that Banks now leans across.

“We’re making plans,” he says, then clears his throat.

I grab the pen beside the register and jab it into his shoulder. “Get off the counter.” He leans back and swats at the pen as I yank it away and toss it at the trash can behind me.

“I think that was our only one left,” Reyna notes with a worried look toward the trash, and I laugh as “Blister in the Sun” starts playing through the speakers.

“Hasn’t he hadenoughof this damn song?” I complain through a groan.Because I sure have.

“It’s Mitch’s favorite,” Reyna says, as if that isn’t obvious by his constant playing of it. When it’s not nineties music, it’s Mitch’s obsession with Violent Femmes.

“Oh, like you,” I tease, and she gives me an unamused look.

“Hey, you’re bitch enough for this,” Banks pipes up, eyes on me. “Help us get back at Lucas.”

Reyna laughs, fills me in. “Landon destroyed his skateboard, so we’re thinking of some revenge.” She widens her eyes.

“As you should,” I say with a firm nod before addressing Banks. “But since it involves helpingyou, I’ll pass.”

He points at me. “One day, you’ll admit it.”

“Admit what?” I ask with a face, then mentally curse myself for engaging him.

“That we’re the same,” he says like it should be obvious. “I’m mean, you’re mean, and if you’d justadmit it, we could put our heads together and really be something.” He punctuates this pipe dream with a smile and a brow waggle,blah, blah, blah,that leaves his face when he has to clear his throat again.

“He has a point,” Reyna chimes in with a teasing grin, and I roll my eyes at them both.

“It’s simple,” I say, unable to help myself at the thought of Landon walking away from his crime unscathed. “He took something from you, so take something from him. He destroyed your skateboard, so destroy his. He deserves it.”

The two are silent as they study my sharp stare, take in my sharp words. Reyna’s eyes make a slow slide to Banks whose mouth is forming a slow smile at me. “That’s what I was thinking,” he says, then turns a beam to Reyna. “So, I’ll yank him off and hold him down while you destroy the board. We’ll do it right in front of him.” He slaps the counter, settled. Then clears his throat.

At the same time Reyna’s hesitant, “Uh, I don’t think—” leaves her mouth, I cut in with, “Will you stop that?”

Banks eyes me. “What?”

I mock his throat clearing.

“I got shit in my throat!”

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