See No Evil

“No, you don’t,” he quips back unceremoniously, taking another long haul of his cancer stick.

His tone is even and sure. And like with everything else Easton does, he takes his time enunciating each word. It’s almost as if the world decided to stop just to revolve around his i

He’s always been the dark horse in our little band of brothers. Sure, he comes from money as we all do, but if you didn’t know his ripped-up jeans cost a few hundred, you’d think he bought them at a second-hand store. He probably would have—just to piss his stepfather off—if he wasn’t a vain fuck.

East might like the rebel aura he puts out into the world, but he likes to look good even more. Girls at Richfield aren’t known for fucking homeless-looking douches, but they will drop their panties in a hot minute when they realize you share the same surname with the bank their daddies deposit their weekly salaries in. Richard Price is Easton’s real-life version of Daddy Warbucks. A truth that East resents but doesn’t shy away from reaping the benefits of, either.

“A

“God, you’re such a weird freak. Get out of the car, Fi

Instead of defending myself or sticking to my lie, I do as he demands and finally get out of the car. I keep my shades on because the blazing August sun is brutal on my light-blue eyes, even at this early hour. But mostly, I keep them because I can’t deal with Easton’s crap. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul, and in this moment, I’m not comfortable in letting any fucker see how tormented mine is. Not even East.

I walk over and lean next to him against the hood, turning my back to the large estate behind us that, at one time, felt like a second home to me.

“Didn’t know you’d be here,” I say, instead of the warm greeting that a friend would expect to receive after so many months apart.

“Well, that answers the question of whether you missed me at all this summer,” he goads, knowing full well I’m not the kind of guy who goes all sentimental over anyone, even if the circumstances we’ve found ourselves in might call for it.

Easton lets out a soft laugh and nudges my shoulder with his, and it’s enough to placate my nerves a smidge.

“Fuck off, you dick. I texted, didn’t I? Not like we’re dating or anything.” I tease him, getting another low chuckle out of my best friend.

“Who are you kidding? Even if we were, you’d be too busy two-timing me with every short skirt Florida had to offer,” he retorts amusingly, letting out one last puffy ring above our heads, before stomping the cigarette butt with his foot.

I laugh at the ridiculous comment, especially considering I was too busy over the summer to waste my time or even care about getting laid. But Easton doesn’t have to know that.

“You jealous?” I cock my brow mockingly.

“Little bit. Summer in Asheville sucked balls. You could have lightened it up.”

“When have I ever lightened anything up? I’m not particularly fu

Easton could have gone anywhere in the world he wanted. He could have wasted his summer days lying on a Polynesian beach drinking mai tais or sipping sangria off the coast of Spain. He could have gone just about anywhere that tickled his fancy, but he stayed put just to make sure shit didn’t hit the fan. He can be a dick like the rest of them, but he’s loyal to a fault. And in our world, loyalty is a rare commodity.

“Anyway, that’s always been more Colt’s domain. He’s the one who’s the life of the party, not me,” I add, desperate to move away from the topic I see playing around in his silver eyes.

“Yeah, well, that fucker went bumming through Europe all summer, so I couldn’t count on him for any diversion. And while you at least texted, that asshole completely forgot he had a life back here. Not one fucking call or message,” Easton a

I understand why Easton might feel bitter at Colt’s apathy, but that’s just the way he’s built. He’s just as loyal as Easton is, even though he does act all aloof sometimes. Without question, I know where his loyalties lie—especially when it concerns his cousin Lincoln.

However, Colt has one quality we all lack. A virtue I wish we all could tap into. I might not be equipped to handle feelings right, but Colt can turn them off completely with a switch of a button. He can walk into a room and brighten it up with life and laughter, or he can just as easily walk away and not give two shits about you. He can make a person feel like they are walking on air, but if you’re not careful, he can cast the cruelest of shadows that makes you shiver in his contempt. Trust me. No one wants to be around Colt when he’s being a heartless dick. I might be an insensitive fucker, but Colt Turner can be arctic when he wants to be. Vindictive and sadistic in every imaginable way.

“Can you blame him?” I cross my arms over my chest, thinking Colt might just be the smartest out of all of us.

“No, not really. I guess it’s just easier for some people to move past shit than it is for others,” Easton explains, slumping his shoulders a bit, revealing the weight he’s been carrying for the last few months.

“I don’t think anyone is capable of moving past what we’ve done. Only try to keep it away from our minds as best we can,” I admit, bowing my head and kicking the air at my feet.

“Is that what you did?” Easton questions, his whole body turning toward me.

I lift my head and take off my shades because I sense the asshole wants to have one of those touchy-feely moments I despise. I’m not such a dick that I won’t at least give him, straight to his face, the honesty he deserves.

“Honestly? I tried to. But some shit is too hard to sweep under the rug and just pretend the big pile of crap isn’t there. Know what I mean?”

“Tell me about it,” he huffs out exasperated, ru

“Have you seen him?” I finally ask, hoping Easton will be able to prepare me for the worst.

“You mean Linc?”

“Yeah.”

“A bit. He didn’t get out much, so I kind of had to come over and see if the fucker didn’t blow his brains out like his daddy,” he replies bitterly, but the ill joke falls flat on the concrete.

“That’s not fu

“It wasn’t supposed to be. Just calling it like it is.” He shrugs somberly, making the rocks that were lying on my chest fall to the pit of my stomach, thinking of how Lincoln may be worse than I imagined.

“That bad, huh?”

“It was in the begi

“Bet she did.” I sigh out, relieved.

Ke

“You know it’s not like that, Fi