By Your Side. (Sequel to Art Girl and Wolf Boy)

By Your Side. (3)

Archer: Age 15

Phoebe: Age 13

~*~

Archer's POV:

"Hey, hey, where're you kids going?" Tony grabbed my arm, looking suspicious. I shrugged it off, a little miffed but not really minding him because he was Phoebe's dad. It'd probably kill her if I fought her dad over a major respect issue.

"Fishing," Phoebe motioned toward the fishing poles and crap we had. "Duh."

"Dylan's driving you?"

I sighed. "I have my permit, Tony. I can drive us."

"With an adult in the passenger seat."

I growled under my breath. "You watched me learn how to drive with my dad and excel at it."

"And?" He asked achingly. I was about to tell him off. Why did he have to be such a prick? Sure, he lost his mate, but that doesn't give him an excuse to be angry at the world. Molly'd expect more.

"I'll take them," Max said, stepping forward. Max was sixteen, a year older than me and my beta to-be. "We're headed that way anyways."

I gave him a grateful look while Tony nodded. "Thanks, Max."

"No problem Uncle. Come on young ones."

I gave him a look but he ignored it, whistling while slapping our shoulders and leading us to his car, a huge truck Marissa and him had to share. They'd just gotten it for their sixteenth birthday. I threw my stuff in the back and climbed in, helping Phoebe up after me. She was still small, but I'd gotten a major growth spurt and was now lanky.

She hopped in the truck and got settled, and I sat down beside her. Max closed the hatch and climbed in the front, his door slamming. Phoebe turned to me, her arms folded and scowling as the truck moved. "Archer..."

"Phoebe..." I said.

"What was that about?"

"What?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," she snapped. She was a little potty mouth, and as firey as hot sauce.

"No I don't."

"Archer. Keep playing and I WILL be calling your mother."

"Fine, fine. He started it!" My voice cracked and I grimaced. I could hear Max laughing in the front and hollered, "Shut up!"

Phoebe smirked, but continued. "He didn't do anything wrong!"

"He--"

"You read into things too much, Archer. For the love of God, all I want is my two favorite boys to get along. Is that too much to ask?"

"It is if he's not helping," I muttered.

She pouted.

I looked away. "That face is not going to help if I'm not looking. And he's such a prick. 'Where're you kids going?' We're holding fishing poles! Where does he THINK we're going?"

"He's just worried, that's all."

"That's what pisses me off the most."

"Hey, hey, if I can't curse, you can't either!"

"Fair, but still. I've been taking care of you since I was two."

"You've got it the wrong way around. I'VE been taking care of YOU."

"And how do you figure that?"

"Who carried you on her back when he scraped his knee when she was 11?"