The Seven 2: My Enemy's Boyfriend

As I eased the back door of my house open with quiet precision, I held my breath and slipped inside the kitchen, straining my ears the entire way for stirrings from my mother.

When I heard nothing, I exhaled in relief and finished shutting the door behind me, only for the latch to click with the faintest snick of sound.

“Hudson? Is that you?”

Damn.

I slumped against the betraying exit before answering, “Yeah, Ma. You need something?”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” she slurred irritably. “That friend of yours—Thane—he called again.”

Jesus. Of course, he had.

“Oh yeah?” I asked, feigning interest as I neared the cabinets, tapping my fingers along the countertop when I reached them. I needed some sustenance, stat.

“Yes! And this was the fifth time in the past two days,” she ranted on as I discovered an unopened bag of potato chips on the top shelf.

Thinking those would do just fine, I dragged them down and turned in search of more.

“He says you haven’t returned any of his calls in weeks.”

I certainly had.

“Will you just call him back so he’ll stop pestering me already?”

“Sure thing, Ma,” I promised. “I’ll do that right now.”

I was totally on top of it…right after never.

Spotting a half-finished package of Oreos on the counter, I snagged those as well and nodded to myself in approval. Then I moseyed my way to my room, whistling under my breath until I shut myself inside with a nudge from my foot.

Finally alone, I let the snacks topple from my arms and onto my desktop before I opened the drawer underneath. I wavered in front of it as I dug into my pants pocket and extracted a small clear baggie. Once I held it up to make sure it hadn’t sprung a leak, I flicked a finger at the contents in greeting before dropping it inside the drawer and shutting the evidence away.

And then I was ready to get comfortable.

I eagerly climbed onto my desk along with my snacks, and after opening my bedroom window, I rested my spine against its casing before letting my head fall back in dreamy relief. When a light breeze filtered in through the screen and stroked an airy finger along my cheek, I closed my eyes and exhaled.

Now this… This was the shit.

The warm air felt so good on my skin that I groaned from the pleasure of it.

Kicking off my shoes, I listened to them clomp to the floor as I stretched out my legs and crossed them at the ankles, getting good and relaxed.

Outside, the sounds of summer greeted me with a soothing melody. The neighbor’s sprinkler was running full blast. Down the block, a lawn mower chugged to life. Kids yelled happily in the distance. A car drove by on the street, its radio entertaining me with a brief snippet of Coldplay.

When I heard the tweeting of a bird from above, I let my lashes flutter open so I could peer up into the branches of the trees, where I spotted a cardinal.

Its feathers looked brilliantly red nestled between those dull, brown limbs and full, feathery leaves.

“Wicked,” I whispered, taking it all in. Life was just so fucking beautiful sometimes.

And the colors. Damn. I loved color.

I mean, the green of the grass was just so…green.

And that truck driving by… I didn’t think I’d seen white that blindingly white before.

Color was nice.

But you know what was even better than color?

Food.

Remembering I had snacks scattered around me, I pulled the bag of chips into my lap and opened the top. Closing my eyes in ecstasy, I breathed in the fresh, cheesy scent that poured out and reached my hand in to grab a handful of goodness.

After stuffing my mouth, I tipped my head back against the window frame and chewed, smiling because nothing hurt when I was like this. There was no pressure in my head, threatening to burst my skull open, no guilt thrumming through my veins, no fucked-up parents making me think every problem in the world was my fault. No worries at all. Just easy, peaceful, good times.

Satisfied, I watched the cardinal in the trees some more as it hopped around, probably looking for a place to build a home.

Must be nice to have nothing in life to worry about but finding that next perfect twig.

Felt like I’d barely taken another handful of chips when someone knocked on my door.

Ooh, visitors. Visitors sounded nice too. I even felt good enough to welcome my mom right now. She probably had the munchies too.

“S’open,” I called, lulling my head that way.

The door swung inward, and Thane swept inside.

“Hey!” I greeted with a wide smile as I waved a handful of potato chip crumbs at him. “It’s Nathaniel. Welcome, Nathaniel.”

Two years my senior, Thane was three or four inches shorter than me, yet his presence was so large I rarely remembered that. Except today… Today, he seemed tiny, like an itty-bitty pocket Thane.

He was just adorable.

Resembling the Marvel action figure, Falcon, he prowled about two steps forward before jarring to a halt and gaping at me in dismay.

“Motherfucker,” he breathed as three more guys poured in behind him, crowding the room to capacity. “You’re worse off than I thought.”

Around him, Parker, Damien, and Foster littered the floor like an infestation of grief group members descending on their lost sheep.

They’d come to collect me back into the fold, I could tell, and it was gonna suck to be them because I was going to disappoint them. Big time.

Foster’s KJ Apa smile died on his lips when he saw me, while Damien’s shoulders slumped, and his dark, Robbie Amell eyebrows furrowed with disheartened woe.

“Hey, shh…” I warned, pressing a finger to my lips, only to ruin the pose with a snicker. “You want my mother to hear that shit? She’ll break into my stash and use all the best drugs for herself if she learns I’m holding.”

As Damien winced, Foster shook his head sadly. “Ivey, man, what the hell?”

Laughing off their concerns, I waved a dismissive hand. “Guys, whatever. Relax. I’m fine. It’s just pot.” Hoping to divert their attention, I lifted my chip bag in offering. “Hey, you want some—?” Except my bag was empty. “Dude.” I blinked as I glanced inside, only to find crumbs. “Who the fuck ate all my chips?”

Oh well. I still had cookies to share with my guests.

But when I reached for them, the carton had been ripped open, and there were no cookies left.

The culprits had spread crumbs all over my chest and lap, though. The bastards.

“Find them,” Thane ordered with a stern voice as he snapped his fingers in command.

I nodded in agreement because, yeah, let’s find those cookie-thieving sons of bitches. But as soon as I haltingly slung my legs over the side of my desk to slide onto the floor and help investigate, Thane marched up to me, looking very severe as he stared straight into my eyes.

“Hudson,” he said.

I straightened my back, trying to look as official and serious as he did. “Yes, Sam Wilson?” I asked, borrowing his grave tone of voice.

He shocked the shit out of me, though, by cupping my cheeks in both hands. “It’s okay,” he assured. “We’re gonna help you.”

Around us, the other three were following Thane’s orders and tossing my room by yanking back the comforter on my bed and searching through my sheets, opening drawers, and peering inside, looking under my mattress, in shoeboxes…everywhere.

I blinked at them, distracted by their tenacity.

“Wow,” I murmured, shaking my head in wonder as I returned my attention to Thane. “You just say jump, and they all jump, don’t they? Except…” Tipping my head in thought, I glanced back at his crew with a pensive squint because they seemed short on numbers.

Let’s see. We had one, two, three…

Aha. Keene and Alec, the two youngest members of my merry grief counseling group, were missing.

“Didn’t want the kiddies to see what you planned to do to me today, hmm?” I asked, figuring my boys must be here to kick my ass for not following their special rules and attending all their special meetings.

With a bitter hiss, I rolled my eyes and muttered, “Pricks.”

“Hudson,” Thane said softly, looking all sympathetic and full of pity. “You need help. You need to come back.”

He lifted his hands as he stepped in reverse, letting me know he’d give me space. Then he said in that same calm, understanding voice, “You need to get back to another meeting. It’s been three months.”

I scoffed. “I told you; I don’t need your damn meetings anymore.”

“Yes, you do,” he encouraged softly. “You had a real breakthrough at that last one.”

“Hud—”

“Damn, Ivey,” Thane breathed as he reached out to clasp my shoulder. “I’m sorry to hear that about your parents.”

“That session only sucked because it was so raw and genuine,” he insisted. “And it was the toughest step. But it was just the beginning of getting you where you need to be. So, thankfully, the rest should be—”

Properly chastised because he was the only member of the group who hadn’t been close to someone who’d died, Thane shut his mouth and took a differential step in reverse.

Feeling the power shift between us, I slid off the desk and took an intimidating step forward to tower over him. “You don’t know what this is like. You’ve never been through it.”

“Hey,” Parker snapped, shoving my shoulder back. “Don’t talk to him like that. Thane’s got your best interests at heart, more than anyone else on this whole damn planet.”

“Hey,” I mimicked, shoving him in return. “Don’t fucking tell me what to do.”

I probably would’ve shoved him again, but Damien stepped between us. And there was just something restraining about Damien’s solid, quiet presence that stopped me in my tracks.

“If I hadn’t insisted that my family go to the beach the day my brother drowned,” Foster added softly, “he’d still be alive today.”

“And maybe my parents wouldn’t have wrecked if I hadn’t upset them the way I did as they were walking out the door,” Parker choked out before he bowed his head shamefully and looked away.

“And you didn’t kill Brett, anyway,” Thane told me, stepping forward again. “We all dare each other to do stupid shit all the time. Nothing bad ever comes of it. Who the hell knew issuing him one idiotic challenge was going to end the way it did? It was a tragic accident.”

God, I was tired of hearing that phrase.

Tragic accident.

“Come back,” Thane urged softly. “And we won’t tell your mother that you’re using drugs.”

“That is…if she hasn’t already figured it out from the smell alone,” Parker added dryly as he waved a hand in front of his face.

“Go ahead and tell her,” I bluffed with an uncaring roll of my eyes, even as my gut tightened with dread. I didn’t particularly want to add another item to the list of reasons why she hated me. “It’s just a little weed. She’d probably join me if she knew I had it.”

Thane opened my desk drawer and sighed dismally. “Except weed doesn’t come in rock form,” he told me as he lifted the clear baggie I’d just put in there and shook it tauntingly.

“Hey!” I swiped out my hand to retrieve it. “I just got that today,” I muttered, scowling when he pulled it away before I could get my hand on it. “I haven’t even gotten to try it yet.”

“And you’re not going to.” Rifling through the drawer some more, Thane fished around until he found what was left of the joint I’d smoked earlier. Taking that as well, he glanced up at me and asked, “Is there any more?”

“Dude,” I smarted back. “If you’re that desperate for a hit, I can just hook you up with my supplier. You don’t gotta steal all my shit.”

He didn’t think my joke was funny, though.

“That’s it,” he growled, shoving both the crack and marijuana into his pocket. “This has gone far enough. I’m getting your mother. Right now.”

“No!” Dodging in front of him to block the exit, I yanked my pocketknife from my jeans and flipped it open in warning. “Don’t you dare fucking bug my mother.” My chin trembled before I added, “She’s been through enough of my issues. Besides, I know what I’m doing.”

“Man, you’re one of us,” Foster said, his voice pleading. “Don’t do this.”

“We’re worried about you,” Damien said.

“Then, let me help you with that,” I told him, spreading my arms wide in invitation before bowing to His Highness. “I quit. I’m out of the group. There.” I waved the knife at him in a shooing gesture. “Now you can own the most fucked-up crown and be king of the grief group again. Enjoy.”

“Hudson,” Thane started pathetically.

“No!” I snapped, glaring at him. “I’ve had enough. I told y’all; I’m done. Now get lost.”

“Alec and Keene won’t—”

“Out!” I bellowed, pointing the blade toward the door.

“Hey!” my mother’s voice returned just as harshly from the other end of the house. “Keep it down back there or your friends will have to go.”

Parker lifted his hands in dismay and looked to Thane for help. “And now he’s stealing my sarcasm too. What the hell?”

“Oh, buddy,” I warned him with a threatening shake of my head. “I already killed one friend. Keep it up, and we’ll make it two.”

Parker only snickered with smug challenge. “Bring it.”

“Done.” I stepped toward him, ready to throw down.

When I started to lift the knife again, Thane dived between us. “Okay, alright,” he relented, lifting a pacifying hand at both me and Parker to keep us apart. “We’ll go,” he told me. “We’ll leave.”

“Thank you,” I breathed, heaving out a grateful breath.

It was about damn time.

Every damn day. Why did he think I’d started to hide behind a protective haze of illegal smoke? Why did he think I was trying to kick him out so fervently right now?

“You’re only fourteen. You have your whole life—”

“We are. We’re going. But I just… I want you to know we’re always here if you need us. And you’re always welcome back. No matter what.”

“Great. Fine.” I waved them away. “Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on your way out.”

“Don’t take too long figuring this out,” Foster said, glancing at me sadly as he went. “I miss you, man. I miss relaxed, chill Hudson who isn’t bothered by anything.”

I ground my teeth, refusing to admit I missed him too.

Parker just sniffed and shook his head before following Blondie into the hall.

Damien stopped silently in front of me before leaving next, and he surprised me with a big bear hug, not seeming to care that I was still holding a weapon.

That got to me the most. My throat closed over, and my eyes burned. When he finally pulled away, his gaze sought mine, but it took me a second to find the courage to look back.

When I did, he smiled sadly, letting me know he cared.

And fuck.

My high was gone.

The pressure—that dreaded weightiness that never stopped trying to push its way out from the inside of my head—crept back in, threatening to consume me.

I hated the pressure. The pressure hurt.

It ruined my mood and made me have awful thoughts. Made me do awful things, like pull knives on my best friends.

I needed to stop the pressure at all costs.

Almost wanting to call Damien back as he followed the other two out the door, I swallowed thickly, then glanced at Thane, who lingered last.

I didn’t know how to tell him I was doing this for his own good without making him think he had to stay longer and try harder, so I didn’t even bother.

“Well?” I demanded roughly, hoping he’d hurry the hell up before my chin wobbled and ruined everything.

Pain littered his gaze, and his shoulders slumped. “Love you, brother,” he whispered before he left with the rest.

And then the door clicked shut after him, and I was all alone, already missing them.

“Fuckers,” I muttered, heaving out the pent-up emotions I’d been keeping in and hating this feeling they’d put inside me. I wiped my arm across my burning eyes. But God…

The weight of their disappointment dragged at my conscience and irritated the pressure. Dropping the knife to the ground, I gripped my head and tried to squeeze out whatever was in there, invading my thoughts.

I wanted my friends back. After three years of sharing our deepest, darkest secrets with each other, we’d come to be like family. I loved the assholes. I didn’t want to lose them.

I’d rather cut my own wrists than let that happen.

Which made everything just… suck.

I swept out a hand and knocked my empty cookie package off the desk and onto the floor.

When that didn’t leave a satisfying enough impact, I kicked the side of my desk, only to stub my toe.

“Fuck.”

With a wince, I retreated to the bed and slumped onto my mattress, propping my ankle on the opposite thigh to check the damage.

But there wasn’t even a red mark.

The pressure was growing steadily in my head, though, pushing at my temples and threatening to crack right through my skull.

I needed some relief. I needed it now.

Slipping my phone from my pocket, I called a number that was already on my most-recently-called list.

Seconds later, a familiar voice answered. “What? You got a problem with my last batch or something?”

“Hey, Bones,” I responded, closing my eyes in anticipation of that next glorious escape from the pressure. “No, nothing like that. It was fine. I just… some friends took everything I had, is all. So I need to make another purchase, if you can hook me up again.”