“What’s that, h-h-history?” Tommy mocks.
Anger crosses Liam’s features. “F-f-f-f-f.”
I’m pretty sure he’s trying to tell Tommy to go fuck himself, but he can’t even do that right.
Frustrated, Liam tries to leave, but the circle of people surrounding him won’t let that happen.
And that’s when everything goes from bad to worse.
Quick as lightning, Tommy pulls down Liam’s pants.
Unfortunately for Liam, Jace skimped on the laundry this week and he chose the worst night to go commando.
The laughter in the gymnasium increases by several decibels and a few chaperones rush toward the circle.
But it’s too late.
“Holy shit, he’s a girl!” Tommy yells. “No way does that itty-bitty thing qualify as a dick.”
More laughter.
My chest tightens. Second-hand embarrassment must be a legitimate thing, because I’m positive I’m experiencing it.
Tommy plays football too, and I’ve seen him in the locker room.
He isn’t packing more than Liam.
Or any of us for that matter.
But no middle school boy is going to stand up and announce that in front of a bunch of girls.
And most middle school girls wouldn’t know the difference anyway…because they still haven’t seen one so there’s nothing for them to compare it to.
It also doesn’t help that there’s a draft from the fans, and he didn’t start going through puberty until a few months ago.
But none of that matters.
From this moment on, Liam will forever be known as the stutterer with a baby dick.
It will follow him everywhere for the rest of his life.
Hell, it might even follow me.
Panic claws at my chest. As much as I try to distance myself from him, there’s no denying we’re identical twins.
It’s safe to say if everyone makes fun of him for having a small dick…they’ll assume I have one too.
I can’t let that happen.
So I join them.
“Anyone got a magnifying glass?”
“Good one,” Tommy says before the teachers usher him away and break up the commotion.
Shame courses through my system as Liam pulls up his pants and runs out of the gym.
I could have stopped it. I could have stuck up for him.
But I didn’t.
I’m about to leave, but Jace spots me. Given the expression on his face, I assume he saw the tail end of what went down with Liam.
“Where’s Liam?”
Or not.
I shrug. “What do I look like, his keeper?”
“Cole,” he grits through his teeth.
I paraphrase Tommy. “He ran home crying like a little bitch.”
“Why?”
“I’m not sure,” I begin. “Tommy and Liam left the gym for a few minutes. When they came back, Liam was crying and Tommy was grinning like a cat who ate a goldfish.”
It’s not exactly a lie. It’s just not the whole truth.
“Shit.”
“It gets worse.” I wince. “Tommy started pointing and laughing at him. Calling him a prissy fag. Pretty soon everyone else joined in.” I avert my gaze. “Liam tried defending himself, but he was so upset he—”
“Got stuck on the first word.”
I snort. “More like the first letter. It was pretty brutal, even I felt bad for him.”
I’m about to tell him the full extent of it, but the disappointment in his eyes feels like acid to the face.
Jace is the only person I care about in this world now that our mother’s gone.
If he finds out what Tommy did…and that I did nothing to defend Liam.
Or worse…that I actually participated.
He’ll hate me.
Just like everyone else.
“Liam is so mad at you,” Bianca says the moment Jace and I walk through the front door.
I wanted to patch things up with Hayley, but Jace read me the riot act about being a shitty brother to Liam and forced me to come home with him.
A lot of good it did me. The bastard ratted me out.
Jace looks at me. The disappointment is back.
“It’s not my fault he ran out of the dance crying,” I shout. “Blame Tommy DaSilva.”
I’m so tired of everyone constantly reprimanding me for Liam’s problems. He does it to himself.
“Not you.” She looks at Jace. “You.”
Jace looks surprised…that makes two of us.
Unlike me and Liam, Jace and Liam get along great.
So great Jace denies his real feelings for Dylan. Which is a heaping pile of bullshit if you ask me. Anyone with a pulse can see Dylan and Jace are perfect for one another.
“Me?” Jace questions. “Did he say why?”
Bianca thinks about this for a moment before replying, “Nope.” Smirking, she looks up at the ceiling. “But he did ask me where the bat was.”
As if on cue, there’s a loud crash upstairs.
Well, shit. Looks like Liam isn’t a pussy after all.
I let out a wolf whistle. The drama train express has officially left the station. “I’m gonna take a guess and say you pointed him in the right direction.”
Bianca blows on her nails. “Duh.”
“Thanks a lot,” Jace mutters before charging up the staircase.
I’m right behind him. “What did you do?”
I gotta hear this. Jace and Liam never fight.
“I have no idea.”
I don’t buy it. Given Liam’s taking a bat to shit, he must have done something.
“I’ve never seen him so mad before,” Bianca whisper-shouts behind us.
That makes two of us. Which means she needs to stay on the couch where it’s safe.
Jace and I turn around. “Go downstairs.”
Pouting, she slinks down the staircase. “I hope Liam takes a bat to your balls.”
Glass shattering assaults my ears when Jace opens his bedroom door.
My mouth nearly hits the floor as I step inside. His room is completely ransacked.
The jerk even managed to destroy Jace’s most prized possession, a giant computer monitor.
“What the hell are you doing?” Jace shouts.
Bat in hand, those angry eyes swivel to us. “T-t-taking s-s-something you l-l-love aw-w-way.” Liam swings again, attacking the tower this time. “Maybe n-n-now you’ll k-k-know w-w-what it f-f-feels lik-k-ke.”
Jace looks every bit as lost as I am. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I didn’t take anything away from—”
“Dylan,” Liam seethes, moving on to his Xbox. Various pieces of plastic and metal propel across the room. “I s-s-saw you two k-k-k-kissing in t-t-the c-c-c-loset.”
Mic. Drop.
Well, shit. Go Jace. Finally.
“About damn time,” I tell him.
For years, Jace has been stuffing his feelings for Dylan down in hopes of not hurting Liam, who laid some stupid claim to her the second Jace brought her home.
“S-s-shut up,” Liam screams, his voice breaking.
Jesus Christ. What a baby.
I hold up my hands, attempting to get a handle on the situation. “Bro, you’re acting like a psycho. Put the bat down.”
“No.” He hits a stack of video games next. “You k-k-knew how m-m-much I l-l-loved her.”