One likes to fight. One hides the truth. One keeps them all in line.
Nadia, Jax, and Angelo are triplets from the imaginary city of New Canton. Their parents have been selling drugs for years, absent from their lives. As a result, the teenagers hav...
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We walk side by side, along the train tracks, towards the bridge. The Biology textbook is clutched against my chest.
Jax punches my arm which causes my feet to lose balance and wobble to the side.
"What was that for?" Groaning, I step back onto the tracks.
"Don't hold it like that, you look too vulnerable. What if one of the DeHauser's came outta nowhere and punched you? Your hands aren't ready."
Does Jax not know why he's here with me? Did he suddenly forget that he's won over $10k street fighting?
Reluctantly, I move the textbook on its side and hold it between my hand and hip. "Stupid," I mutter under my breath.
"Watch it," he fires back with another punch against my arm.
We walk along in silence for another few hundred feet. The train tracks are starting to break apart which means we're near the end and close to the bridge.
"How come you didn't ask Angelo to come, too?"
I squint and look at Jax, the golden setting sun burning into my eyes. "He's soft. Sometimes. On the inside, maybe?"
Jax nods in agreement. "Yeah, you saw the way he checked my pupils the other night? Nobody has willingly cared for me like that besides him."
I kick a rock and stop walking. It takes Jax a few steps to realize I'm behind.
"What?" he dumbly says with a blank stare.
"I care about you. I care about both of you," I say, almost aggressively. But it's true and I'm offended he thinks that way.
"Oh god, Nadia. I was just saying, it wasn't anything deep like that," he says with his arms out in defense.
I take a few steps closer to him but I don't say anything. Instead, we keep walking, and the textbook comes back against my chest.
•••
We reach the meeting spot near the bridge and nobody is there yet except us. I hand Jax the textbook and run into a Dunkin' Donuts across the street to pee and grab a chocolate glazed.
Once I'm done with my business, I see Jax with Wyatt DeHauser — the most average DeHauser who is enrolled in his first year at community college. They seem to be talking about something and it looks civil. Again, which doesn't surprise me, because Wyatt is the most reasonable of the four. I almost feel a wave of relief.
After checking for traffic, I jog across the street and meet the two of them with the donut in my hand.
"Thanks, sis," Jax says with a cheeky smile. He takes the donut right from my fingertips and proceeds to take a giant bite before giving it back to me.
