You'll Just Know

Chapter 13-Brit

*A/N-So I'm sorry I haven't been on here much. I just don't know how easy it's going to be to write for me. I may update this book from time to time, so please keep checking back. I hope you are enjoying this, because I love writing it! Hope you like the new character. Let me know what you think! Love you guys!

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“I still don’t know why you’re forcing me to go to Alabama with Lucas!” I snarled, lugging my heavy suitcase towards the front door. I tended to overpack when traveling. “I don’t want to go to some stupid college where I’m just going to sit around in a dorm all day.”

My mom looked at me with exasperation. That shut me up. Had her hair always had those gray roots? Were there always bags under her eyes? She had aged in the weeks after David’s death. I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I just-I don’t know why it’s so important that I be there. Why would he even want me near him? He hates me.”

My mom shook her head. “Lucas doesn’t hate you, Brittany. He’s just having a rough time. Give him a break. You know what I think is the real reason?” my mom leaned in close, “I think he needs someone to be there for him.”

This thought of my mom’s surprised me. I hadn’t thought of it that way. “But why me?” I whined, knowing I sounded like I was twelve. 

“Because he cares about you, sweetie. He—“

The doorbell rang before she could finish. I glanced up, my stomach immediately churning at the thought of the boy I had recently called ‘cold-hearted.’ I wasn’t sure exactly how he would treat me.

My dad strode out of the living room just my mom opened the front door. The tall, lean boy was not who I had expected to be peering at me. He had sandy hair, brown eyes, and a freckled nose and cheeks. My parents appeared to be in shock as well. 

However, the boy didn’t seem to notice. “Hello Mr. and Mrs. Conoway. My name’s Miles Scott. Nice to meet you both.” He reached out confidently and shook my father’s hand. Impressed, my mother turned to me, “Miles, this is—“

“The package,” he said, holding out his hand for me to shake, “Brittany, right? Luke’s told me a little about you.” I awkwardly shook his hand, which he grasped firmly. I couldn’t help but notice the long sinewy muscles in his fingers, forearms, and biceps. We let go, and then I was glancing up at his encouraging smile. I couldn’t help but smile back. 

Just then, Lucas—the devil himself—loped up to the front door. Both boys stepped into the house as my mother hugged Lucas tightly and my father shook his hand, and then hugged him as well. I waited for him to acknowledge me, but he was too busy talking.

“I see y’all have already met Miles. Sorry, I was moving some stuff around in the back. Thanks for the help, by the way, Miles,” Lucas added sarcastically.

“No problem,” Miles replied quickly, a twinkle in his eye as he winked at me. I smirked at him, which at that moment, was when Lucas glanced at me. 

“Hey Brit,” he murmured, before stepping towards me and giving me a stiff, one-armed hug. However, my parents didn’t seem to notice. 

“Luke, son, did you and Miles want to stay for lunch? Rachel made some spaghetti, if you boys want some,” my dad offered.

“Sorry, Rob, but I think we better get back on the road—“

“We’d love to, sir!” Miles exclaimed, cutting off Lucas before he had a chance to fully reject the offer. 

“Wonderful!” My mom smiled, the happiest I had seen her in weeks. I glanced at the two football players. Lucas was glaring at Miles, who seemed unaware—or perhaps was ignoring—his penetrating gaze. I felt a smile creep onto my lips. I liked the boy who enjoyed getting under Lucas’ skin. We would get along just fine.

The boys stayed for another two hours, before Lucas decided it was time to leave. “It’s going to be a long trip, and coach is going to be mad if we don’t make it back real quick,” he said matter-of-factly, standing up and taking his dishes and snatching my mother’s off the table to take to the kitchen. Miles stood up too, grabbing his plate before sneakily stealing mine before I could stop him. He grinned as I opened my mouth to protest, which made me snap it shut. 

In the conversations that my parents and Miles had mostly participated in, I had learned that he was a born and bred Texan from a small town in the hill country. “Everything’s bigger in Texas,” he twanged. 

Lucas had chuckled, “Then why am I taller and bigger than you?” 

“You’re the exception, Luke. ‘Sides, what I lack in height and width, I make up for in—“ Lucas had cleared his throat, kicking Miles under the table I had assumed by the way Miles groaned and was silent. My parents were oblivious to what he had been saying, but I couldn’t help but cover a laugh. Miles had smirked when he heard the quiet giggle. Lucas hadn’t even glanced in my direction.

“Well, Miles, it was nice to meet you. Such a polite young man. Glad that Lucas has a friend like you,” my mom said, pulling Miles into a hug. Yep, she was a hugger. She then gave Lucas a huge hug, murmuring something into his ear that I couldn’t hear. He nodded, his jaw tightening as he met her eyes. My dad shook both of their hands, before helping them lug my stuff to the truck. I told both of my parents goodbye, and gave them each a kiss, promising I would answer my cell and text them every day.

“Love you!” I said as I climbed into the backseat of Lucas’ truck.

“Love you too,” they both replied, waving as we pulled off down the road.

“Damn your parents are cool, Brit,” Miles said without warning, turning around in the passenger seat to look at me. 

I shrugged. “They’re kind of embarrassing sometimes,” I murmured, noticing the ease of which Miles’ called me by my nickname. Like he had known me my whole life. 

He turned back around to face the front. “If my parents were half as cool as yours, I wouldn’t want to leave.”

“I didn’t want to leave,” I spat out before I could stop myself. Immediately my gaze went to Lucas, who’s hands had tightened on the wheel. 

“You didn’t? Then why are you with us now?” Miles asked, once again oblivious to the tension between Lucas and me. 

“Lucas wanted me to,” I replied curtly, watching him for any kind of reaction. A muscle in his jaw jumped. 

“Wait, so are we taking her against her own will?”

Lucas shrugged.

“Dude, so we’re like kidnappers. Cool,” Miles grinned wickedly. “Can I tie her up?”

I sensed a double meaning behind those words, which Lucas seemed to notice as well.

“Shit, Miles, don’t be such a dick. She’s still in high school,” Lucas said between his teeth. 

“Oh, damn. When’s she turn eighteen?”

“Hello? I’m still in the car,” I tried to stop the sassiness in my voice, but it just wouldn’t go away.

“Oh sorry, Brit. When do you turn eighteen?” Miles turned back towards me. The sweetness in his face forced some of my attitude away.

“July 1st,” Lucas and I said in unison. I raised my eyebrows. The guy remembered my birthday?

“Ooh, so you must be one of the oldest in the class,” Miles said, not missing a beat, “I guess we’ll have to throw a party for ‘ya since you’ll be staying with us.”

“Oh that’s not necessary—“

“It’s completely necessary. But we got a couple weeks to plan it. Not that we’ll need much planning—“

“Damn, Scott, when did you become such a girl?” Lucas chuckled. 

Miles smirked, flipping down the visor so that he could see me in the mirror. “Since a beautiful girl decided to walk into my life,” he replied, winking at me before shutting the visor. I blushed a deep, scarlet red.

Lucas gagged.