Still Waters by Ash Parsons Page A

Cyndra’s voice was singsongy, like we’re so close now she can say anything and it won’t be misunderstood. Like that was just a joke:
Don’t get mad, I was just playing.
    We left her house and drove to the party. It didn’t take long, which was good, because each time the Mercedes came to a stop, I nearly jumped out. Because when her slender legs worked the pedals and her hand gripped the stick shift, it reminded me of how competently she’d controlled me.
    We parked and walked to the front of another mansion. This one was white, with gaslights flickering along a path and on either side of the door. It looked like an old house, but you could tell it wasn’t. Music blasted inside. I slowed my steps, falling behind Cyndra as I texted the address to Clay.
    At the door, Cyndra ran a hand into her hair. “Why are you dragging?” she asked, waving me forward.
    “I just wanted to get a picture of the view.” I leered at her as I slid the cell back in my pocket.
    Cyndra giggled and brushed the front of my new shirt like it had something on it.
    “All right, then. Showtime.”
    Her bright eyes made me dread the moment when she told the others that she’d won the bet.
    I told myself I didn’t care.
    It wasn’t like I loved her or anything pointless like that.
    My head thumped in time with the music.
    I followed her inside, past throngs of people and outside toward the back of the house, where more kids stood around a crystalline pool. There were kids I didn’t recognize and some I did.
    Beast, Dwight, and T-Man were by a keg, clutching plastic cups, standing with their legs as far apart as possible without looking completely ridiculous. Michael leaned against a low wall, his arm around Monique. His black eye was darker, but less swollen, and did nothing to mar his looks. His eyes widened momentarily at my jaw, but he didn’t mention it.
    “Cyn. Ice. You’ve arrived,” he said instead.
    “Hey, Ice.” Monique waved her eyelashes in my direction but didn’t budge from Michael’s side. She licked her lips, and for a moment I actually looked forward to when Cyndra told her the bet had been won.
    “Jason.” Michael lifted his arm off Monique and held out his hand. I shook it and he dislodged Cyndra long enough to give me a one-armed hug.
    “We need to talk.” I spoke through gritted teeth. Remembering my father in the doorway.
    “How’d you get that shiner?” Monique asked me. “I thought you were invincible.”
    Crossing my arms, I leaned against the wall. Felt Cyndra’s heat next to me.
    “Shut up, Mona.” Michael stepped away from the girls. “Come on, Ice. Let’s get you set up.”
    I followed him back into the house and over to a bar. Some girls had climbed on top and were dancing. One waved her shirt as she tossed her head around.
    I grabbed Michael’s shoulder. “Wait.”
    He turned, moved back against the wall.
    “Why the hell did you send Cyndra to my house?” I shoved him. A controlled threat. “I should blacken your other eye.”
    Michael’s eyes tracked down to my jaw. The muscles around his eyes eased.
    If he turned that pity-filled gaze up, I
would
punch him.
    He kept looking at my jaw. “Your dad.” His voice was soft. More confirmation than accusation. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
    “Bullshit.”
    He shifted his wounded gaze up. “I mean I didn’t know he’d react like that. To her picking you up. I mean, that’s crazy. I’m sorry.”
    My fists squeezed. Eased.
    “I really didn’t think.” His gaze was open and steady. A slight furrow to his eyebrows. “It won’t happen again.”
    I dropped my arms. Nodded.
    A clean smile, wide and easy, shined from his face. He squeezed a quick hand on my upper arm. It felt brotherly.
    I stifled the surge of pleasure it gave me. Stepped back from his grip.
    “We’ve got to meet someone, but he won’t be here for a little while. Let’s get you that drink while we wait, all right?” Michael walked to the bar and poured two