Page 96 of Bring You Back

“Did you buy it with your first paycheck?” he taunts with another slide, a smile tugging the corners of his mouth as he thinks he’s won. I don’t get paid until next week, so he’s got me there. But it was a gift, so he’s still losing. “Mymom bought this,” he adds, the victorious bottom line.

I flaunt my own victorious grin as I yank the box back. “Forme.” He starts for it again, but I hold it away from his reach. “Ask nicely.” There’s a charge in my words that halts us both, a dare crackling in the air between us. He takes a moment to decide his next move, a playful crinkle forming in the corners of his eyes. He’s going to come in close, make a grab for the box, expecting me to dodge his attempt, but what he doesn’t know is that I’m not moving. My breath catches as he closes the distance—then jolts back at the sound of the front door opening.

“Dude, help me hunt,” Banks orders as he charges over with a laptop. I drop the cereal box back to the island with an eye roll as he settles his computer at the corner close to Julian.

“Moose or girls?” I smart, shoveling in a bite of my breakfast.

“Jobs,” Banks says, and I almost choke on my food. Julian pauses his opening of the cereal box that I missed him grab for again. I’m too busy staring down Banks to bother swiping it back as he tips the marshmallows and grains into his bowl.

“If you wannaworkon something, start with yourself,” I say with a spoon swirl in his direction.

Banks exaggerates a fake laugh, says, “Yeah, keep talking.”

I open my mouth again to do just that, but Banks, never knowing when to shut up, talks over me. “You guys have jobs. You’re doing shit with your lives. So I have to do shit, too, so I won’t be left behind.”

Julian pauses again, his eyes shifting and lingering on Banks a moment before closing the cereal box with a small laugh. “Still not going anywhere, man. Not all of us are leaving.”

“But don’t let us stop you from getting as far away as you can,” I add to Banks around a bite of cereal, catching Julian’s smile right before he hides it away. “Was that a grin?” I tease.

He moves to the silverware drawer for a spoon. “Nope.”

I hide my own smile as he moves to the fridge for the milk.

“I have to find something to get into besides girls,” Banks continues, the truth revealed, as Julian rejoins us to put the finishing touches on the cereal he sniped. “I’ve had all the good ones. Now I’m just recycling.”

Julian laughs, and I remark, “Oh, well, at least you’re doing something good for the planet.”

“That’s it!” Banks rejoices.

“Sarcasm. Look it up.”

“Dude, you know that little theater in town? That does all those plays and shit?”

“Yeah, man, I’ve lived here my whole life,” Julian deadpans around a mouthful of cereal, and I smile around my own.

“They’re doing some sorta”—Banks reads off his laptop screen—“community showcase. . .” His voice gets lower and lower as he lists. “. . .residents of Bellsby … undiscovered talent … eighteen to twenty-three—I can write a play!” He throws his hands in the air with a beaming grin, then points at me. “You can be my editor.”

“Hard pass.”

“You know, that actually makes sense,” Julian says with a chuckle. It makesmoresense for an attention whore to beonthe stage, but I digress, because Julian has the same thought. “Why don’t you audition?”

“When I have the chance to be themastermind?” Bankspffts. “I’m gonna be the brains behind the operation.”

“Scarecrows don’t have brains,” I remind him.

His smile drops as he looks at me. “That was funny thefirsttime, you—” He cuts himself off, his features scrunching as he racks his empty skull for what to call me.

“Yeah, I know, thinking is hard with no brain,” I say as I swirl a marshmallow in my milk.

He smacks Julian’s arm for assistance. “What’s that one called that doesn’t have a heart?”

I chuckle despite myself as Julian answers, “The Tin Man.”

“Yeah. That’s you.” Banks points at me, and I accept my title with a proud smile.

Julian shakes his head, and I spy the hint of amusement on his face before he asks him, “When’s the deadline?”

Banks’s face falls as he reads the screen. “By the Fourth.” He lights up again. “No biggie. I got this.” He laughs, a screech of excitement that causes me to wince, and moves to the cupboards, finally out of my range of sight.

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