Don't Tell My Brother

Chapter 31 - Promises to Old Friends and Debts to New Ones

It was past eleven as Lucas rode the bus home with Mona, yet oddly enough he wasn't that worried. Mona was explaining, in great detail, some nuance of the fabric of space and time, and Lucas had to focus all his attention on keeping up. It didn't leave a lot of room for worry, especially because he was pretty sure he'd arrive late enough to miss Mallory, but before his parents got home. He rested his head against the bus window, watching the streetlamps flick by, listening to Mona with a small smile on his lips. It had just been a really, really good night. Even if Damien's friends kept him on edge, and he was pretty sure April had been serious when she'd suggested they go to a spa together, and Mona and Christina had had the same conversation topic for over an hour, it'd been good. He felt a kind of warmth in his chest, a soft, candle-like warmth, even though he hadn't touched a drop of beer. He felt happy.

When he arrived home the lights were on, but his parents' car wasn't in the driveway yet. Not that he thought they'd be angry at him, (on the contrary, they were always very enthusiastic whenever he went out late because he did it so rarely) but they'd ask a lot of questions Lucas didn't really feel like answering. There was, however, a convertible he didn't recognise parked out the front.

Maybe he could just sneak upstairs, he told himself as he slid his key into the lock. Mallory and Mark would probably be busy (or 'busy', but he hoped to God it wasn't that kind of busy), so if he opened the door as quietly as he could and crept up the stairs, he'd be able to avoid them.

Unfortunately, Lucas' luck had run out. He opened the door slowly, carefully, and yet it still nearly hit Mallory in the face. She flinched back just in time, and her look of surprise changed to a narrow, calculating glare as she looked Lucas up and down. But, much to Lucas' relief, she didn't say anything.

Probably because Mark was right behind her, holding her coat.

"Call me when you get home safe, okay?"

"I'm driving, Mark, it's not as if I'm about to crash the car. But fine." She held out one manicured hand. "Coat."

Mark handed it to her, and Mallory nudged past Lucas without even deigning to look at him. As rude as this was, Lucas was relieved. Mallory would leave quietly. There'd be no fuss.

But Mallory paused in the doorway, and finally those green eyes met Lucas' own.

"Hope you had fun with Damien." She didn't sound as if she meant it.

With a small wave and a satisfied smile, Mallory stepped outside, letting the door slam shut behind her, leaving them both in the carpeted hallway. Again. This entire night was giving Lucas some serious déjà vu.

"Now, Mark, don't—"

"So you were with Damien." It wasn't a question. "Not Mona, but Damien."

"Technically, I was with both of them."

A look of surprise crossed Mark's face at the odd combination, but he quickly shook it off. "I thought I told you he was bad news."

Lucas was too tired for this. The lights in the hallway were too bright on his weary eyes, and he just wanted to go to bed. "We're not having this stupid argument again. You don't get to tell me what to do, and I'm not going to let some dumb football rivalry decide who I'm friends with."

Not wanting to let this go any further, Lucas ducked past Mark and began to climb the stairs. Unfortunately, Mark followed him.

"It's not about football. Damien's a bad guy. He was a terrible boyfriend to Mal when he never even deserved her, she was always way too good for him—"

"Is this what it's about?" Lucas rounded on him at the top of the stairs. "You're mad because he dated Mallory and you're so far in the friendzone you're practically the mayor of the place. Is that it?"