According to Thatcher’s report, Banks spun around, went to grab a water bottle that Sulli unknowingly dropped, and he took an elbow to the nose.
Blood splashed against the window of her door, and Sulli screamed like she’d been eviscerated. That sound still slices me open. For a second, I thought Banks had been shot.
I swallow another rock. “I’ll have more men help us when you leave the Aquatic Center, Sul. It’ll get better.”
It has to.
How many times can she go through total mayhem before she’s wrecked completely?
How many times can I see Banks and Sulli hurt?
What about you, Nine?
I’m perfect. I’m standing.
Literally, I’m on my feet, and I fit a marshmallow on a stick. Passing the thing to Sulli, she leans over the fancy gas firepit. Flames lick glossy stones, and glass forms a tabletop around the heat. She scoots and sits more against Banks, right between his legs while his arms stay around her waist, and I take a seat on her left, the lounge chair creaking underneath me.
We’re quiet for a long beat. Watching the flames. Piercing more marshmallows on more sticks.
“I lost my virginity to Will Rochester,” Sulli suddenly says.
Blood drains out of my head. “What?” She…she had sex with Will? That means…when we had sex. It wasn’t her first?
Banks has gone motionless, his arms unmoving around Sulli. “That doesn’t make sense.” His gaze flits to me, and I bet I’m thinking what he’s thinking.
She bled her first time with me. When the three of us were in the bathtub together.
I popped her cherry. Unless…did I hurt her? I was careful. Banks and I were careful.
Did I hurt Sulli?
I feel sick.
Why wouldn’t she tell us about Will? Why would she lie?
“April Fools’,” Sulli says fast.
“Fuck,” I curse out, and she lightly slugs my arm. I capture breath into my lungs as shock wears off. “That wasn’t funny.”
Sulli tries to laugh. “I got you both, though.”
It is April 1st.
Banks ends up laughing deeply. “Yeah, you got us good. Akara almost shit himself.”
“Why are you laughing?” I ask him. “You almost crapped yourself too.”
He laughs more, his features brightening in the firelight. The vibrant noise from his lips makes me laugh, and then Sulli shares in our laughter too.
When the sound fades, a levity still remains between us.
“The triad survives another day,” Sulli says softly but with a little more hope as she roasts her marshmallow.
Beneath his bruises, Banks starts to smile. “We’re not the easy kind to drag down.” His smile vanishes as quickly as it appeared. “They’ll have to kill us.”
I shoot him a look, but he’s not exactly wrong.
“No one is fucking dying,” Sulli says adamantly. “That better be an April Fools’ joke.”
“April Fools’,” Banks banters, “we’re already dead.”
I let out a laugh. “Wouldn’t that be a plot twist? We’re fighting to stay alive, but we’ve already kicked the bucket.”
Banks tilts his head. “My heaven does include you two.”
Sulli isn’t finding humor in our death jokes. She stares haunted at the flames.
“Hey.” I nudge her arm. “Sul?”
“Don’t die protecting me,” she whispers. “You promise?” She stares from me to Banks, back to me. “Promise, Kits?”
I can’t.
I hate that I can’t hook pinkies with Sulli and be playful about a promise I’d love to keep. “I promise we’ll try not to die.”
Sulli looks heartbroken. “What if that’s not good enough?”
“What if that’s all I have, Sul?” My pulse is in my throat.
She rotates her marshmallow in the fire. “I understand…I just wish you two weren’t put in these situations because of me—”
“Not because of you,” Banks interjects. “We chose this.”
“It’s for you,” I whisper.
“Don’t die for me,” she chokes out.
Banks and I share a smile, and he’s the one who says, “I couldn’t think of a better person to die for.”
“Lady Meadows,” I finish.
She snorts into a small, rising smile and her marshmallow catches on fire. She lets it solidly char.
Banks breaks apart chocolate squares, then sees the flames. “You’re gonna need to blow that one, mermaid.”
My lips rise. “I’ve heard that before.”
Sulli elbows me softly. “Because you’re usually the one saying it, Kits.” She ends up resting her head on my bicep. I kiss her lips.
She kisses gently back and concentrates on her marshmallow. I think she’s finally letting go of tonight’s mayhem.
Good.
Really good.
I exhale a breath.
“Cumbuckets,” Sulli mutters after she blows off a flaming marshmallow. It’s charred. Unrecognizable.
“Told ya,” Banks says and hands her the marshmallow bag.
“I like it crispy, though.” Sulli appraises the singe, then grabs another stick with a fresh marshmallow. “The challenge is getting the perfect crispiness without it being a fucking hockey puck of ash.” Her face goes into full-determination mode. “I’ll get it this time.”
I smile. It’s nice seeing Sulli focused on something other than swimming or our rising popularity. These days, that’s not often. For any of us, really.
My phone rings.
I groan.
“Who is it?” Sulli asks.
I don’t even have to look. “My mom. She’s been calling all day.”
Sulli frowns deeply. “You’ve ignored her calls?”
“I’ve been on-duty all day.” Luna was in class at Penn, and I couldn’t dip out of the lecture to answer my mom’s call. I realize though, that I’ve been at the penthouse for at least an hour…maybe two.
And I’ve been off-duty in that time.
Not to sound like a dick, I add, “I texted her that I was busy.”
Banks licks chocolate off his thumb, then nods to me. “Answer it.”
Truth is that I’m not looking forward to what she has to say. It’s been months since we’ve had a real conversation. And that talk wasn’t productive or helpful. We went in circles. Mostly with her blaming me for not telling her about my relationship sooner. “I didn’t want to learn from the TV, Nine.”
It was my fault.
My fault for thinking she wouldn’t care about my love life. She’s the one who left when I was nineteen. She wrote herself out of my story. Thinking those words sends a bitterness through me that I don’t like.
My phone rings out.
Banks and Sulli continue to stare at me like I’m making the wrong choice. Maybe I am.
“Fine,” I sigh. “I’ll be a sec.” I stand off the lounge chair we share, and I leave the warmth of the fire. The warmth of them. And I pace over to the cold iron patio table. Constellations twinkle overhead, a clear night, and I wonder if my mom is staring at the same stars in New York.
Not that far away, but she couldn’t feel further from me.