2. Jockstraps + Jalapeños

By the time I finish hula-ing as Moana at a 3 year old little boy's birthday luau, it's 5pm. $250 in two and a half hours. Not bad.

The birthday boy's father had offered me an additional $100 bill, along with his phone number, but I very classily declined. Believe me, I wanted to tell him to shove that green paper where the sun don't shine, but when your business is based on your personal reputation... You think things like that through a little more before they leave your mouth.

I run home and change into a comfy grey shirt, frayed jean shorts, strappy sandals and pull my hair into a side braid, grateful to free it from the itchy Moana wig.

I'm about to call Presley to tell her to get her ass over here when my phone dings with a text from Haven, my brother.

I sigh and let him know I'm on my way. Tink is a nickname my dad gave me when I was really little. I've always been very small and very blonde, and the name just stuck. Mom and Haven are really the only ones that use it.

Haven's car is in the shop, getting a paint job or something, hence why he rode to school in my car this morning. I've never had to give him a ride from practice before.

I hop in the car, roll down the windows and blast my music as I drive to pick him up from the school field.

Today had been weird as hell.

Jayce is one of Haven's good friends and teammates and yet, today was the first day I'd ever spoken to him. We don't have any classes together and our paths had simply never crossed. The only reason I know his name and face is because I've seen him play at soccer games. The only way I know about his reputation is from Presley's constant gossip about who he's sleeping with and how hot he is.

Jayce's arrogance is impressively high. I wonder if he's even experienced not being able to get the things (or women) that he wants. I can't stand entitlement like that.

I am officially not a fan of Jayce Solis.

After the short 10 minute drive to school, I pull in to see Haven standing on the practice field and talking on the phone. It looks like all of the guys had peeled out at the end of practice, because he's the only person in sight.

I park and grudgingly get out of the car to drag my brother home.

He smiles and waves as he sees me approaching. Using his hand to cover the mic on his cell phone, he quietly asks, "Could you grab my stuff out of the locker room?" His smile is huge as he points to his phone and clearly mouths, "Brixton."

My insides jump with excitement. Is he really on the phone with our dream college? We've talked about Brixton University for as long as I can remember. His biggest dream in life is to play for Brixton's soccer team while studying law, just like our dad had. Pride wells up in my chest as I run over to hug him before dashing toward the men's locker room.

Brixton University in Northern California was our dad's alma mater. I don't remember much about our father, but I do remember that he used to take Haven, me and mom to every home game the Brixton Kings had.

Dad had gotten shot and killed when Haven and I were just 5 and 6. He was a criminal prosecutor, and when a perp he had helped put behind bars in his early days had served his time... He wanted revenge. Now, the perp is serving a life sentence and mom spends most of her time high or drunk.

I don't understand violence and vengeance. It always ends badly for everyone involved. It still hurts to think about dad.

I'm honestly pretty damn mind blown by my brother right now. I knew Brixton was his dream, but I didn't realize he was actually pursuing it. I thought he spent most of his time partying, but I guess he'd managed to get far enough in the application process to be on the fucking phone with them. He must have done his best to keep it on the down low, mainly because mom would have a conniption if she found out.

I have to say though, I'm proud as hell. Haven and I haven't been close for a while, but that doesn't mean I'm not impressed and happy as fuck for my big bro.

I bound inside the locker room, the overpowering, damp stench of male sweat and unwashed jockstraps hitting me like a huge train of man stink. It's so intense that I almost gag.

I spot Haven's bags and am about to pick them up when a voice comes from behind me.

"You know this is the guy's locker room, yeah?"

I whip around to meet Jayce's brown eyes and his smirk that I'm beginning to think must never leave his face. He clearly had just gotten out of the shower, because the only thing on him is a white towel draped low around his hips. I can't help but glance over his chiseled, tanned torso and damn, he's fit.

"Yeah, sorry, I'm just getting my brother's bags," I say, hating that I sound a bit breathless. The knot in my stomach has already begun twisting itself up.

Jayce's eyebrows pinch together in confusion. "Your brother?"

"Yeah. Haven is my brother," I say, managing to get my damn voice under control. "Haven't you been friends with him for, like, 3 years? Pretty sad that you didn't know he had a sister." I'm pleased with the level of sass in my voice. I don't want him to think I'm going to fall at his feet, like he's probably accustomed to females doing.

He nods and takes a step closer to me, smiling as he runs his hand through his wet hair. "I knew he had a sister, I just didn't know his sister was you. Fallon, right?"

"Yeah," I reply. "Fallon Rhodes."

"I'm Jayce," he says, very obviously looking me up and down. "Why don't you step out so I can change, and then I'll carry your brother's bags back out for you, yeah? Unless you'd rather stay and watch me change, of course," he says with a wink and a cheesy grin.

A small squeak escapes my mouth as I dash out of the locker room, barely making it out the door before he drops his towel. I can hear him laughing to himself behind the door.

Much to my annoyance, heat rises in my cheeks as I lean against the cool cement wall. I wanted to smack him for his arrogance. He was unrelentingly smooth, I'd give him that much. It must be a trait he'd learned from all of his... experience. Not that I can judge.

A minute or so later, he emerges from the locker room with two backpacks, two gear bags and a blindingly white smile. He's changed into a pair of navy Nike joggers and a white tee.

"I can carry my brother's stuff," I say defiantly as we start walking back toward the field, our footfalls echoing through the empty hallway. I have to walk faster than usual to keep up with his long strides.

"I know you can, but I have no problem carrying it for you, if you'll let me?" He says with undeniable sweetness in his voice. The kind gesture seemed very out of character for him.

I look at him quizzically, not sure if I should believe his helpfulness or not. "Thanks," I say with a curt nod. Why does he care whether or not I carry Haven's things?

"So, if Haven is your brother, how come we've never met before?" He somehow manages to lift a hand to ruffle his hair, even with four bags piled over his round shoulders.

I shrug, not caring to explain that I'm just antisocial. "I've never really met any of Haven's friends. My brother has a lot of them, and he isn't home very much. He parties a lot."

"And you just sit at home, is that it?" He teases, the gold hues in his brown eyes shining in the early evening sun. "What are you, too high-strung to have a little fun?" His tan skin looks darker in the dimmer sunlight, causing his smile to look even whiter. A light breeze picks up and I smell the edgy yet warm scent of clove and perique that's no doubt coming from him. Ugh. Why does he have to smell so damn nice?

"What? No!" I scoff defensively, even though his assessment is basically right on point. "I party. Just not with my brother, or guys like you." I intentionally slather the last words in sting.

He chuckles and shakes his head, causing a couple small water droplets to fall from the ends of his dark hair. "Too bad. A guy like me could show a girl like you a real good time," he says so casually that it causes the knot in my stomach to double in size.

I can feel myself getting curious. Fuck. This is bad. Abort.

With a surge of self-control, I elect to ignore him. We're almost to Haven and I can't wait to get away from Jayce and his freakish man powers. He's legendary for intoxicating women, and I refuse to be one of them. I'm worried that if I'm around him too much, my resolve could eventually wear down and I'd become yet another notch on his belt. We walk in silence for a few more seconds before he speaks up again.

"Have you looked at what I got you?" His voice is curious.

I force myself to not meet his gaze. "No," I say with finality as we walk up to Haven.

Jayce's face is uncaring as he shrugs.

"Can we go now?" I ask Haven bluntly as he ends his phone call.

"Damn, J. What'd you do to piss her off?" Haven chuckles at my tone and taps my arm playfully.

Jayce shakes his head and meets my eyes with a stare so intense I want to look away, but I don't. "Couldn't say," he says innocently as he hands Haven his bags. "She's a feisty one, bro."

I narrow my eyes at Jayce, annoyed by how he can give any sentence a sexual connotation.

"Tell me about it," Haven laughs obliviously. "Great job today, man." He gives Jayce a bro hug before Haven and I finally start walking to my car.

Right as I'm about to duck into the driver's seat, I glance over my shoulder to see Jayce, still standing in the same place, the curious sparkle back in his eyes. He's looking at me with a mischievous smile on his face as he raises his hand in goodbye.

I huff and duck into the car without acknowledging him.

This year is off to a frustrating start.

"So. Brixton?" I ask Haven as soon as we're out of the parking lot.

"Yeah!" I can hear mountains of excitement in his voice and I can't help but smile.

"When did it happen?"

"I applied at the beginning of summer, but I guess they've been keeping an eye on me for a while," his brows furrow together as he says, "I never realized how highly regarded and involved dad was at that school. Did you know that they went out of their way to cover all of his funeral costs?"

"Damn, what?" I exhale, floored by the statement. Since when did colleges pay for their past student's funeral? "I didn't, but that's insane... Have you been accepted?"

"Not yet," he says, but his green eyes light up regardless. "They're wanting to see how we do this season, and I think they want to see whether or not I can keep my grades consistent this year."

"I didn't even realize you'd applied," I'm slightly offended that he'd kept such a huge, exciting thing from me for three months. We had both grown up dreaming about attending Brixton together.

"I didn't want to say anything unless I got accepted, but it's nice getting to be excited with you. Almost feels like old times," he beams at me. "Just don't say anything to mom." His expression darkens.

"Trust me, I won't," I chuckle.

"I'm thinking of going to Adam's Friday night. He's having a party..." Haven's eyes flit towards me for a moment. Adam is one of Haven's teammates. He's a rich kid and his house is always empty because his parents are always gone on business. "Would you want to come?"

I'm surprised by his question - Haven hasn't invited me anywhere in a long ass time. This is the most we've talked in years, and it's really nice. I didn't really realize how much I missed his friendship. We were close when we were younger, but as soon as we were old enough to start working, mom had made us get jobs and we had slowly grown apart.

"I'd really like that, actually," I say, jumping at the chance to rekindle a relationship with my brother, despite the fact that I'm sure I'll only be at the party for about an hour before I get people-d out. "Can Presley come, too?"

"Totally," he smiles. "I've missed you, sis."

Tears well up in my eyes and I look out the window before he can see how much his comment means to me. "I've missed you, too."

We pull up to the house, and I see Presley's empty car parked by the curb. I smile, loving how she feels comfortable enough to just show up at my house even if I'm not there.

Our house is the smallest in our neighborhood. It's a faded yellow with a bright red door and white shutters and trim. The summer after my dad died, mom had painted the entire thing yellow in an attempt to force the house to make her happy, instead of reminding her of dad every time she pulled up. I don't think it worked.

Inside, the walls are covered in her paintings. She's an amazing artist, has been for as long as I can remember. She makes enough to cover the mortgage and her daily drug fixes, but that's about it. Anything else, including food, is up to me and Haven. Hence, why I started a business as soon as I realized how limited the earning power of a young teenager actually is.

Between Haven working at a local gym and my business, we make it happen. We've never gone hungry and never missed a bill, so that's what really matters.

I'm sure this is a big part of why entitled people like Jayce, who get everything they want without working for it, annoy me so much.

"Mom, we're home!" Haven yells as he makes a bee line for the fridge, no doubt starving after practice.

I head straight upstairs to my room to find Presley sprawled on my bed, sleeping, clearly exhausted after her lack of sleep last night.

"Pres?" I shake her small frame. Her brows furrow and she grunts, rolling away from me, clearly not wanting to be disturbed.

I start pulling books out of my backpack. I figure I might as well get a head start on homework.

That's when I see it... an unassuming, crumpled blob at the bottom of my backpack: the Express bag.

The knot in my stomach reappears.

What the hell, I had completely forgotten about it.

I take a deep breath and gingerly open the bag. My breath catches in my throat. There's a sweater inside that looks almost exactly like the one Jayce had spilled coffee on, except it's softer. And I'm sure it's about five times the price.

But that's not what made me gasp. Underneath the sweater is a stunning, shiny gold cocktail dress.

I slowly pull it out of the bag, totally transfixed by its beauty. My stomach knot is twisting like crazy.

"Oh my god!" Presley screeches from behind me, causing me to lurch. Guess she's up now. She's suddenly at my elbow, her stare switching between me and the dress. "He fucking bought that for you?!" Her eyes shine in excitement and wonder.

I snap out of the trance and stuff both the sweater and the dress back in the bag and throw it under my bed. My pulse is racing.

"It's official. He wants you," Presley states as matter of factly as if she's commenting on the weather. "Trust me, I know these things."

I shake my head but can feel my cheeks turning pink. "I don't know what his problem is."

"I don't know what his problem is," Presley mocks in a sing-song voice. "His problem is that HE WANTS YOU!" She cackles, bending over and clutching her stomach in laugher.

I roll my eyes. "Well, too fucking bad for him," I snap. "Looks like he's finally found something he can't have."

This makes her laugh even harder.

She finally settles down, but her smile never leaves her face.

"Let's stop talking about Jayce, please," I beg, letting the desperation in my voice seep through. "I just want to pretend that today didn't happen." I can't imagine she would ever drop the subject if I told her that I almost saw him naked in the guy's locker room less than an hour ago.

"Fine," she grumbles, clearly frustrated with my lack of desire to talk about our school's beloved goalie.

"Let's rewind back to lunch, before Mr. Glib interrupted us," I say, climbing on my bed.

Her face drops as she sits next to me, pulls her knees to her chest and rests her forehead on them.

"I slept with Cole," she mutters quietly.

Confusion rolls over my mind. "Is this the guy you met at work a few months ago?" Presley is a barista at a local coffee shop here in town. She doesn't work there very often, maybe 2 or 3 shifts a week.

She nods her head but doesn't say anything else.

"What's going on, Pres?" I ask gently, nudging her lightly with my shoulder.

She looks up at me, her eyes red and full of tears. "He didn't tell me that..." She takes a deep breath. "That he's 33," she finishes, bursting into tears. "He's been texting me all day telling me he loves me and wants to see me again," her slender shoulders shake as she bawls. "He's the Chief of Police, Fallon!" She looks up at me, anguish in her tear-filled eyes. "I don't know what I've gotten myself into," her voice is small and defeated as she places her head in her hands. "He could get arrested for being with me."

I instantly want to punch this guy in the jaw, but I can tell she's scared so I try to act calm. A 16 year age gap is a pretty fucking big deal, especially when she's 17. I pull her into a hug, disgusted that the head of Goldcrest's law enforcement is using my underage best friend to get his ya-yas out.

"Well..." I exhale, unsure of what to say. "It was one time right? You're freaked out by his age, but what does it matter if you're not going to see him again?" For as long as I've know her, she's never been with a guy more than once.

She's silent for a few moments before saying in a small voice, "I actually really like him though."

This takes me by surprise. She's always had a knack for finding the problematic ones, but she also never had a problem ditching them right after she gets what she wants.

"I don't like the idea of you being with a guy who purposely deceived you," I tell her, rubbing small circles on her back.

"He didn't deceive me!... His age and job just never really came up," she says through sniffles. "I guess on the bright side," her voice is muffled by my shirt, "if I ever get into trouble, he'd probably let me walk free," she looks up at me with a small smile, mascara smudged beneath her eyes. Her face falls again. "I feel like such an idiot. He does not look 33."

"You really like him?" I ask her, wiping her tears from her cheeks.

"I do," she nods furiously. "He's amazing, Fallon. He treats me like a damn queen."

"But he also mislead you, Pres. That's really not cool."

She shrugs. "Honestly, we just never got around to talking about it, so he didn't really mislead me. He called me during free period today and that's when it came out. He told me the truth as soon as I asked."

That makes me feel a little better, but I still don't like the fact he decided to just never bring up such an important piece of information. "I don't like his methods, but if he makes you happy and you really do like him... Age is just a number. Just be careful, especially since you're still under 18. No nudes."

She lets out a half-hearted chuckle. "This is so unfair," she pouts, her plump lower lip sticking out. "This is the first time I actually wouldn't mind being in a relationship, and it's illegal."

I can't help but feel grossed out - not so much by the age difference, but just by the sound of this Cole guy in general. "Maybe you should take some time away from him before you rush into anything," I say tenderly. "Get your mind off him. Let loose, have some fun."

"You are asking me to let loose?" She looks at me with a raised eyebrow, "Who are you and what have you done with Fallon Rhodes?"

I laugh, "Haven actually invited me to a party at his teammate's place on Friday. I want to go, and I think it'd be good for you to come, too."

She somehow manages to raise her eyebrow even more, "Since when do you and Haven do stuff together?"

"It's a new development, trust me."

"It makes me happy to hear you two might become close again," a pretty smile spreads across her face. "Hello, senior parties and hot soccer boys!" She hollers and giggles.

I smack her leg and tell her to shush up - Haven's room is right down the hall.

"I'm kidding... Mostly," she winks. "But for real, it makes me happy that you two are hanging out after so many years."

"Same here," I smile, grateful for her support.

"Oo!" She exclaims suddenly, clapping her hands together like a seal. "You should wear the dress Jayce bought you to the party!"

"Hell fuckin' no!" I say loudly, a small knot forming in my stomach with the turn of the conversation. "I'm going to donate that thing, and the sweater - I don't want to have any sort of ties to Jayce."

"Whyyyy noooooooot," Presley moans. "You're no fun at all." She crosses her arms melodramatically and scowls at me.

"Because, Pres, this is the exact sort of thing that happens to girls like me in movies - they focus on their grades and their future, until mister suave bad boy shows up and sweeps them off their feet. But I prefer my feet on the ground, thank you very much. I will not be one of his scores."

She wears an amused expression and knowing smile. "Whatever you say."

I groan. "We've literally spoken three times. How does that mean he 'wants me'?" I put air quotes around the last two words.

"Three times?" She exclaims. "When was the third time?!"

Whoops. Shit.

I sigh, knowing I can't fake my way out of this. I tell her about what happened in the locker room when I picked Haven up, and her eyes seem to get bigger with every word.

"I bet he'd show you a REAL good time!" She rolls onto her back and kicks her legs in the air over and over, squealing, "Jayce Solis has a crush on my best friend!"

I roll my eyes, already regretting telling her. She's basically been boy-crazy for as long as I've known her. It's not exactly a new thing for her to freak out, telling me a guy wants me or has a crush on me. Once, she tried to convince me a guy liked me just because he opened a door for me. I told her she needed to learn the difference between flirting and being a nice person.

"Well I don't have a crush on him, and it's going to stay that way," I inform her. "If I ignore him, within a couple days he will find a different girl to annoy and I'll get to tell you, 'I told you so.' You just watch."

She shakes her head at me, still smiling, "Fine. I can respect your perspective, even though you're wrong."

"Let's just order some pizza," I say, desperate to end this conversation. "I'm starving and need to start on my assignments."

"Pfft. You're boring," she waves her hand in the air and climbs off my bed. "I saw on Snapchat that some of the squad is at the park. Not Layla, of course. If she was there I'd need pitchforks and torches to burn that rich witch bitch. But anyway, I'll be there if you want to join later," she smiles and pulls her thick hair back into a ponytail.

Layla Wright is our school's resident mean girl, and also the captain of the cheer squad. Presley and I both can't stand her. I don't know how Presley deals with being on the same team as her. I have my AP classes with Layla and I've only spoken to her a handful of times, but even I know how evil she is.

Presley and I hug goodbye and I listen to her leave, humming Cardi B to herself the whole way.

I order a pepperoni and jalapeño pizza and decide to take a shower while I wait for it to arrive.

Standing under the steaming water, my mind wanders to me and Haven's Brixton conversation as I scrub.

I was definitely beyond proud of Haven for pursuing his life dream, but the more I thought about it, the more worried I got that something could happen to him, just like it happened to dad. Granted, Haven would be in school for seven more years before he could actually start practicing law, but still, the thought left me feeling weak and nauseous.

I couldn't imagine losing him. I thought of mom, who had lost the love of her life. I can't say I understand how being high helps her cope. I wish she would just talk to me, engage with me in any way that's deeper than "hello" and "how was your day."

My mom is a beautiful woman. She's short and lithe, like me, with the same big, green eyes as myself and my brother and dirty blonde hair that she usually keeps swept up in a loose bun. When I was younger, I remember wanting to be exactly like her, with her paint-stained clothing, carefree smile and constant joie de vivre.

If you didn't know her, you'd think her appearance hadn't changed much after dad died. But to me, she looked hollow now, like all the joy and love had been scooped right out of her and she was left empty; simply a shell of her former self. It was heartbreaking for me to look at her sometimes.

From there, my mind drifted to college. I wanted, more than anything, to go to Brixton University to study business.

I'd heard that colleges look mostly at your junior year grades, which is why I didn't appreciate Presley's teasing about Jayce. I so don't have time for a relationship this year, or any year, for that matter. I need to stay focused on getting into Brixton, not getting a guy.

I thought about the party on Friday. I probably shouldn't go, but I don't want to pass up the opportunity to hang out with my brother, even if it's just for a few minutes on the way to the party. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed his friendship until the car ride earlier this evening. We used to do everything together.

I decide that I should reach out to him more, not keep myself locked in my room, studying every night.

I step out of the shower and change into black Nike volleyball shorts, a pink tank top and slippers.

The doorbell rings and I pay for the pizza and tip the deliver driver, ignoring his attempt to get my Snapchat.

I pad over to Haven's room, steaming hot pizza in hand, intent on spending time with him.

I knock on his door, the feeling totally foreign.

The door quickly swings open, and Haven's eyes instantly dart to the pizza box in my hand.

"Wanna grub and kick?" I ask with a smile. My brother has seemed untouchable for so many years that it feels really bizarre to be asking him to hang out with me.

"Hell yeah!" He pumps his fists in the air, grabs his soccer ball and runs out to the front porch with me, laughing like we're kids again.

I balance the pizza box on the porch railing and we dive in.

"I'm really proud of you, by the way," I say to him as we stuff our faces.

"What for?" He asks, his eyes on the slice of pizza he's stuffing in his mouth.

"Just everything you're doing with Brixton. It's really amazing that you're going after your dream. Seriously impressive."

"Aww, thanks, Tink! That means a lot to me," he says with a genuine smile.

"It's true!" I exclaim, wanting to make sure he knows how remarkable I think his ambition is.

He studies me as he chews. "I feel like I don't really know you," he says frankly. "And I'm bummed out by that, because I want to."

My heart swells at his comment. "I know exactly what you mean," I bump his shoulder with my fist.

"Let's fix that shit, right now. So..." He begins, "Do you have a... A boyfriend?" He says the word 'boyfriend' with the same distaste as if he were saying 'taxes.'

I let out a strange mix of a laugh and a groan. "Hell no," I say. "I'm trying to get into Brixton, too, Hav. I don't have time for all that bullshit."

He seems to relax at that. Was he being... protective? The thought that he cared enough to worry whether or not I had a boyfriend, and be relieved when I said I didn't, made me want to hug him.

"Brixton, huh?" He asks, biting into a second piece of pizza. "Maybe if I get in I could pay someone off to let you in," he winks at me.

"Uh huh," I roll my eyes at his teasing. "But yeah, I want to study business," I explain to him, shocked at the fact that I'd never shared this information with him.

I explain my desired career path to him as he munches on a few more slices while rolling the soccer ball under his bare foot.

"That's dope, sis," he says, picking up his soccer ball and walking out onto the front lawn.

I can't keep from smiling. I've missed him so damn much.

We start kicking the ball back and forth, getting further and further apart so we can start striking the ball all the way across the front lawn.

"You gotta teach me how you get those killer left footed shots from before the 18!" He yells from the other end of the lawn.

"Only if you teach me your fancy ass footwork," I yell back, loving that we're both admirers of the other's playing style.

I send the ball soaring back to him, as a black Range Rover comes roaring down the street, blasting rap.

It slows down enough for the driver, a senior I recognize as Adam, to roll down the window and shout, "FONDLE MY BALLS!" With his eyes clearly glued on me.

My eyes move past him, to the other guy in his vehicle. Jayce is sitting in Adam's passenger seat, and although I can only see Jayce for a moment as the car drives past, he's glaring at Adam with a fierce, dangerous fire.

"Adam's an ass," Haven shouts. "Just ignore it, I'll talk to him tomorrow."

But based on the anger that I had seen flashing in Jayce's eyes, something tells me that he will get to Adam long before Haven ever gets the chance.

~~~

What do you think will happen to Adam??

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