ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʙᴀᴅ ɢɪʀʟ // $ᴜɪᴄɪᴅᴇʙᴏʏ$

7

Scott

I waited for a text from Ari letting me know he was done dropping his drunk infatuation back home where she belonged, but it didn’t come.

This thing with Clover, it wasn’t like him.

I was about to call the motherfucker when I heard his car pull up outside.

I’d already opened the door when he reached my doorstep. He brushed past me without a word, and I followed him on through to the kitchen to grab the beer we didn’t finish at the bar.

I handed him a bottle and he slumped himself against my kitchen island.

“They’re gonna throw her onto the streets,” he said, and I sighed.

“Not. Your. Problem.”

“I can’t just turn my back on her, not like that.”

“So call an agency who can help.”

He took a swig of beer. “I doubt she’ll cooperate. She doesn’t trust anyone.”

“You tried. That’s all ya can do.”

“I guess you’re right.”

He didn’t believe me, and I knew it. It was written all over his face. In my cousin’s sweet deluded mind he was on a one-man mission to eliminate all this girl's problems.

For all my sighs and grimacing and talk of cold, hard reality, I admired him for it.

“You gotta let this go, bruh,” I said and the guy practically flinched.

“I’ll let it go when I know she’s safe.”

“And if she ain’t safe? If she ends up slumming it on the streets?”

He shrugged. “Then I’ll keep trying.”

“You’ll follow her around the back alleys like a stalker? Bring her a hot soup every evening?” I stared at him. “Or smuggle her into your bedroom and hope your neighbors don’t talk?”

His eyes flashed with disgust. “I never would.”

I couldn’t help but smirk. “If you say so. That girl’s all woman, Ari. She’s definitely all of twenty-one, in spirit as well as in body, give or take a few fucking days.”

“She was my parents' foster kid.”

“A pretty one.”

I was underplaying it. For all I’d heard about Clover, the descriptions didn’t do her justice. She was stunning. Even a dirty bomber jacket and grubby boots couldn’t hide that. Her eyes were green and piercing, her nose had a pixie quality about it that matched the rest of her. She was feral, and totally not the kind of girl either of us should have been ogling.

“She’s beautiful,” Ari said, and his eyes had this worryingly wistful quality about them. “It’ll get her into trouble.”

“More trouble.”

He groaned. “Eli Stevens is a waste of space, we both know it. She’d have ended up in his bed tonight if I hadn’t stepped in.”

“You ain’t know that.” I took another swig of beer.

I was talking to a brick wall. My cousin’s whole body was tense. His brows were heavy and his shoulders looked rigid. I was never worried about him, not really, because he could always hold his own and figure his shit out. I was the one who made the impulsive decisions. I was the risk taker.

“Are you gonna be ight?” I asked him.

He held up a hand. “Of course.”

Ari didn’t have many friends. He had me and he had the other G59 members– touring around the country, a drink out with them for birthdays and the occasional party where he'd get so fucked up he'd end up on the floor, but that’s about all. Being with Krystal for so long cut off his already limited social circle, and to be honest, I was surprised they didn’t survive since the two of them were so ingrained in their relationship. I thought they’d be together forever, for better or worse. The split came as a shock.

I thought he was good with it, and good with being single, but this thing with Clover lead me to believe he wasn't so happy with his life outside of our music after all.

He’d say it was ridiculous. He’d say he was too engrossed in the music to socialize all that much outside of it. Plus, he’d say he had family. He maybe saw his parents every couple of months before Clover went to live with them– they surprised us all when they opted to start being foster parents– but started seeing more of them, only because of her.

I picked up my tablet and thumbed through my Instagram when my cousin sighed at me.

“Seriously, Scott, what ya think I’m gonna do? Elope with her? She’ll be at my parents’ for a few days and then I’ll do my best to hook her up through another agency.”

“And that’s it? No smuggling her into your house?”

He smiled like I was crazy, but he was the crazy one those past few months. “Nah.”

“Fine.” I put my tablet down then finished up my beer. I opened the fridge as he finished his. “You having another?”

It was nice to see him relax a little. “As long as you don’t mind me staying over.”

I handed him a fresh beer. “When have I ever minded you staying, bro?”

He pulled his keys out of his pocket and my front door key jangled on his keyring. “I’ll make myself at home. Scope out your porn subscriptions on your big screen.”

He was joking but it made me smile. “Might as well get the best out of them, I pay enough. At least it might keep you outta trouble.”

Somehow I doubted that.

Call it instinct, but there was a twist in my gut. Something that told me a disaster was about to happen.

It eased off a little as we moved to the living room and kicked back with beers and blunts as usual. Talk of Clover finally eased up.

We drank and smoked and made the same old inside-jokes we’d always made. We talked through the same old stories we’d relived a thousand times, and at the end of it all, when it was past five in the morning, we headed upstairs, Ari passed out with his clothes and shoes still on in the guest bedroom.

I was gone a couple hours later before he woke up, speeding out of the driveway. My mom had called about an emergency with my younger brother, Justy. He was in the hospital in Houston with a concussion.

I fired off a text to Ari as soon as I reached my mom and dad's place to pick them up.

Justy in the hospital. Explain later. Watch the place for me. Don’t do anything fucking crazy.

I just hoped he'd take the advice.