Linc leans his head back on the headrest, looking exhausted all of a sudden.
This new split personality that Linc’s got going still takes a little getting used to. When he’s with anyone but us three, he acts as the same carefree guy with no worries—the one he used to be before it happened. Now, the scars and damage of what we’ve done are only visible on his face when we are alone and away from prying eyes.
But then again, aren’t we all leading a double life? Aren’t we acting like we’ve got our shit together and everything is above board when, in reality, we are slowly drowning in a sea of despair? We are all wearing masks. Lincoln, Easton, Colt. Even me. We are pretending to be something we will never be again—innocent.
“Well, don’t just gawk at the sky, dude. Answer me! Are you going to sit back and do nothing? Just hand over your girl to that fucking prick?”
“She’s not my girl, East. She never was and never will be, so just drop it,” Lincoln replies in defeat.
“The fuck are you—”
“I said, DROP IT!” Linc yells this time, slamming his fists onto the table for good measure.
The eerie silence that transpires has me sweating bullets. East should know by now that Kennedy is a sore subject for Linc. Not that I understand his reasoning behind not pursuing the only girl he ever cared for. But hey, that’s Linc’s prerogative, not mine. And certainly not East’s.
As a distraction, I order some sweet tea, entirely disregarding the coffee in front of me. Easton just slumps in his seat and crosses his arms over his chest like a spoiled child, scowling around the coffee shop rather than looking at either of us.
I sip on my tea, trying hard not to get too lost in my head, waiting for one of them to set aside their differences and call a truce so we can get back to normal. That’s the thing about our little band of brothers—we can be swinging punches at each other one minute, and by the next, we’re joking around, not even remembering why we were pissed off in the first place.
“So, things with Stone aren’t going as The Society would have liked it, huh?” Lincoln asks, being the first one to break the silence.
He has always been the pacifist in our foursome, so I’m not surprised he’s the one to drop the olive branch to get us back to our norm.
“Honestly, I’m not sure what they want. They told me to befriend her, and in a way, I have. I just hope it’s enough for them.”
“Is it enough for you?” he asks cryptically.
“Just say what you mean, Linc.”
“If you’re starting to care for this girl, I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to,” he replies, sincere apprehension to his tone.
My brows furrow tightly, trying to decipher the right words that he wants to hear from me, but to be honest, I don’t know what they are.
“He’s fine, Linc. I mean, have you ever seen Finn like any girl in all of the time you’ve known him?” East interjects with a scoff, as if the idea I might fall for a girl was utterly preposterous. However, Linc’s expression tells me he’s not as easily convinced.
“Just because it’s never happened before doesn’t mean it can’t.”
“If it does, it won’t be with Stone Bennett. Tell him, Finn,” East commands, but for the life of me, the words seem trapped in my throat, unable to come out.
“Tell him,” East insists, growing more impatient with my silence.
But the only reply I can come up with is the one I know still rings true to my ears.
“I’ll do what I have to, Linc.”
Linc lets out a long exhale, his back dipping further into his seat.
“I think that doing what we had to is what got us all in trouble, to begin with.”
“Have you or Colt found out anything about The Society yet? Anything that could help us get out of this mess?” I ask, wondering if they are faring any better at their task than I am at mine.
“Not really. But the minute we do, I’ll let you both know.”
“Where is that motherfucker anyway?” Easton asks, only now noticing Colt’s absence.
And I’m the slow one of the group.
Linc picks up his phone, the first genuine smile tracing his lips, as he shows us a picture of a flustered Colt talking to an unimpressed librarian.
“Well, I’ll be damned. I don’t know what surprises me more—Colt actually doing some groundwork that doesn’t involve pussy, or that he knows where the library is to begin with.” East chuckles.
“His name is on the building,” I counter. “He should at least know where the damn thing is located.”
We all laugh at that because Colt isn’t the type of guy you’d ever expect to encounter in a place that doesn’t offer the potential of getting laid. The girls’ locker room, yes. The library, hell no.
After our laughter dies down, I can’t help but look to Lincoln one more time for guidance.
“So, how are we going to handle this in the meantime?”
“Just as we have been. Act normal and wait for further instructions.”
“Instruction from The Society, you mean?” I ask just to be clear, getting from him a stiff nod in reply.
“What if they know that Finn blew his chance with the Southie, though?”
“You think I blew it?”
“I love you, dude. Like a brother, I do. But I gotta tell ya, when a girl is ready to bounce after a fuckfest, it usually means she’s running home to finish herself off and get the orgasm you were meant to give her. Sorry to burst your bubble, man.” East shrugs, not as apologetic as his words sound.
“Why didn’t you say that shit earlier?” I grunt, annoyed.
“Because! Kennedy was here, and I didn’t want to be all crass and shit in front of her,” he counters defensively.
“It never stopped you before, asshole,” I yell.
“Guess I’m evolving.”
“Evolve this motherfucker.” I slap him over the head, which is kind of hard since he’s all the way across the table.
The jackass, instead of getting pissed at me, just laughs harder.
“Don’t worry about it. You just have to convince her that the second time around will be better. That you are going to wow her as a second act, rather than a first. I mean, sequels can be better than the originals, right? It’s not totally unheard of,” he goads.
“Funny. But what if she doesn’t give me a second chance?”
“Have you at least called her to find out?”
“I’ve texted, but she hasn’t replied. Pretty sure she’s already blocked my number from her phone,” I admit.
I mean, why else would she not reply? It’s the only plausible reason I can come up with to explain the radio silence I got from her all weekend.
“Yikes. Jesus, how bad a lay are you?”
“I’m not!” I shout at him, but the fucker just keeps laughing.
Linc, unable to hold it in, follows suit, and pretty soon, I join in, too. Because what am I going to do? Cry? Fuck that.