The Tattooed Devil Wears Chucks

The Secret is Out

Gabby.

"Mom, please?" my conjoined hands are held up in prayer, hoping to escape the house today.

"No."

She moves around the sun-filled living room with window cleaner in one hand and a cloth in the other, swinging her hips to Bon Jovi's greatest hits. A cloud of the chemical cleaner erupts from the nozzle when she sprays down the front door. It smells like an unbalanced mix of dish soap and ammonia, agitating my nostrils and making me sneeze into the crook of my elbow. My hands quickly return to their former state, needing a break from my grounding. It smells too clean in here. I need out.

"It's just a movie with Morgan, Cole, and Courtney. They weren't even the ones who got me into trouble this time!"

Her smile broadens before it finally gives way to a laugh—one I know still means she won't be allowing me out of this house. "No one got you into trouble, Gabby. You got you grounded."

That makes no sense. Had I played pool with anyone else in this damn town, I would be closer to having my freedom back by now. Because I played pool with Jackson Parker, my grounding was extended for another week. They can keep me in here for months, and I still won't regret saying yes to that game. The look on Jax's face when he realized I was going to crush him at that table was worth it. But now, I can't even go to Courtney's birthday party next weekend either.

Before she can move to the picture window, I dive between her and the couch that needs to be moved to get to it. "Please?"

"Gabs, I said..."

"No," I finish her sentence with a defeated exhale. "I heard you."

One side of her lips lift to offer me a supportive smile. It's not her that usually grounds me. It's my dad. My mom grew up in this town, and as much as she loves it, she knows it's sometimes suffocating. We've had this discussion before, and I get it. My dad is strict for a reason. Letting me off the hook wouldn't teach me anything. Mom just got away with a lot more when she was my age, clearly.

"You could help me clean?" she offers out the rag. "I'll let you choose the music."

As much fun as that sounds, I turn my heel with a groan and head for the stairs.

When I reach my bedroom at the top of the landing, I give the door a toss, allowing it to shut itself with the lighter of many slams it has had over the years. Although the small room is literally surrounded by walls of bookshelves packed to the brim, my laptop is waiting for me beneath the covers. From this, I can both read and attempt stalking Jax. Settling back into the bed, I flip the down comforter over my head to darken the surrounding space. The only right way to read Frankenstein is in the dark. I send a text off to the group chat, explaining that tonight's trip to town is a no go for me before finally settling in to begin my sulking. I'm only about halfway through the first paragraph when my door creaks open.

"Yes," I huff, knowing I'm about to be scolded and reprimanded by being forced to become a cleaning partner. "I slammed the door. I was demonstrating my teenage angst. I'm not getting out of this bed."

"Alright," Felix's voice comes as a surprise. "Guess that means more wings for Kane and me."

The laptop is pushed off of my stomach, and the covers are thrown. My brother is ready and waiting for me to leap out of the bed and into his arms. When I do, I am lifted off of my feet into a giant squeeze.

"I didn't know you were coming home!" I hug him just as tight before being placed back to the floor. Of course, he's sporting a University of Northern Iowa football sweatshirt with a purple panther on the front—I might have to steal that later. Unusual for him, he's allowed his blond curls to grow out with some scruff on his chin. I reach for it to pester him. "Did you come back to get a haircut?"