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Broken and Screwed 2

Page 1

   


PROLOGUE
My brother was buried today.
I was standing in the back of the church. There was a special word for it, but we rarely went so I didn’t know. I didn’t care either. It was where I stood. People came and said their goodbyes. Angie and Marissa had sat beside me. They were good friends. I suppose. Angie’s family came to the funeral. Her mom hugged me, patted me on the head, and then they left. Justin was there too. He was Angie’s boyfriend, but he sat in the back with his friends. He took her hand now and led the way to his truck.
I watched from the church as she bent forward once they got inside his truck. Her shoulders were shaking so I knew she was crying. He moved over to comfort her. Then I looked to the left where Marissa had parked. She was watching them too, but she wasn’t alone. The new boyfriend came over and kissed the back of her neck. They got into her car and drove off while Angie was still crying in Justin’s car.
It struck me as odd.
Angie was crying, but she barely knew my brother. And I knew Marissa was leaving to have sex. That’s all she talked about before the funeral. Angie told her to shut up, but it never worked. Marissa ignored her and did what she wanted to do.
“Hey.”
Jesse stood next to me and followed my gaze. He grimaced. “Your friends suck.”
I frowned. “No, they don’t.”
“Yeah, they do. But don’t take my word for it.”
“They’re upset.”
He snorted, rolling his eyes. “They shouldn’t be. They didn’t know Ethan and they should still be here for you. Where are your parents?”
I shrugged. “They’re here somewhere.” But I knew they weren’t. They left almost immediately after the ceremony. That was normal now. Since the accident, they hadn’t talked to me. I knew my mom was grieving. I could hear her crying at night. My dad was with her, but sometimes he ignored her. He spent the nights on the couch. She stayed in their room and I sat on the stairs, between them. No one went near Ethan’s room. And Jesse had stopped staying over so his room sat empty. I stayed in his room that first night, but I didn’t sleep. I just laid there and waited until morning.
Glancing up at him, I saw the frustration in his dark eyes. His black hair had been combed to the side earlier, but it was sticking up. He raked a hand through it and pulled at it when he was really pissed. It was a mess now. His dark eyes flashed from anger as he scowled. With high cheekbones, his f**k-off attitude, he was lethal.
I asked, “Where’s your dad?”
Jesse rolled his eyes. “Fuck. You think he’d come to this?”
“Yeah.”
He snorted. “He wouldn’t come.”
But he paused. I heard the small inflection and I asked, “Did you tell him?”
“No.”
I understood. Malcolm Hunt was a big deal in the Hollywood scene, but he was almost nonexistent in his son’s life. Hence the reason why Jesse had been living with my family since his own mother died four years ago. Sometimes I wondered if Malcolm Hunt even knew his son never stayed in their huge mansion, but Zala probably covered for him. She was their housekeeper, but she doted on Jesse. I knew she had more so since Ethan’s accident. I saw her at the hospital a few times with him. I’d never admit it, but I was jealous of Jesse. I wished Zala would hug me at times or bring me food like she did with him.
“Screw this shit. Do you want to leave?” He glanced around. The corners of his eyes were stretched tight and his frown was a fully formed scowl now. The tie he had worn had been ripped out. I saw it peeking out of his pocket.
“Go where?”
“To get drunk.” He jerked a shoulder up. “I don’t care. We can go to the house. No one will be there.”
“What about Zala?”
“Are you hungry?”
I shook my head. “No.” I didn’t remember the last time I was hungry. No, I did. Before the accident. I wanted pizza when we went to Justin’s party. Angie and I raided his family’s kitchen and baked a homemade pizza. Lots of cheese.
“Why’d you ask about my housekeeper then?”
“I don’t know.” I was lying. I lied to everyone now. It was second nature, though I didn’t know why I had started.
“Let’s go. Everyone took off.”
I glanced towards the basement. They were serving sandwiches and potato salad, but I wondered who was even going to eat it. Jesse was right. The only people who lingered were the ones who went to this church. We didn’t. Some of Ethan’s classmates stayed, along with this football coach. As Jesse crossed the parking lot towards his black Ferrari, there was another group that congregated around the church’s picnic tables. I saw their paper plates and a part of me relaxed. At least someone stayed for the food. For some reason, that mattered. Ethan would’ve wanted people to enjoy a meal for him.
“Hunt!” one of the guys called out.
Jesse ignored them and gestured to the door. “Get in.”
As I did and reached for my seat belt, they were still watching us. One girl had stood from the table and stared at me, looking sad. She had long blonde hair and was pretty, like a real life doll. I asked, “Who are those guys?”
“No one.”
“Who, Jesse?” I could tell they weren’t ‘no one’.
“Jeremy Benson. Stay away from him. He’s bad news, Alex.”
Nothing more needed to be said. Benson and his friends were known for drugs, boozing, and getting arrested. I was glad that Jesse had ignored him now. He drove out of the parking lot and gunned the engine. Jesse had always been a speed demon, but it was worse since Ethan’s death. However, no one said anything. Jesse Hunt got away with almost anything he wanted. His dad gave enough money to the local police department and who else would step in to stop him? Maybe Ethan, but his best friend was dead now.
My brother was dead now.
“What’s wrong?”
I’d never get used to it. Ethan was supposed to be next to us. No, that wasn’t right either. Ethan was supposed to be where I was sitting. I should’ve been in the back seat and my brother would’ve been lecturing Jesse on the laws, how he needed to follow the set speed limit. Jesse would ignore him, but he’d grin and slow to a more reasonable pace. Then the two would laugh about something, curse at each other, and we’d head back to my home. Ethan never knew it, but sometimes Jesse and I touched hands. We never held each other’s hands. Jesse had a girlfriend, but not anymore.