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“HEY, MAN. BETTER DRINK a Gatorade. Can’t have the Golden Boy of RHHS passin’ out on my kitchen floor.”
Panting heavily, I grin as Colt throws me a red sports drink. We just finished intense cardio training, and the guy is kicking my ass. Doesn’t help that he ran track last year. Whole different beast.
Not that I’m complaining. My swimming times at the end of May earned me an alternate spot on the National Team, and without regular practices at school this summer, I need these workouts to stay in shape.
I twist off the cap and chug the juice. “I think we ran too far, Ramsay. You’re hallucinating.”
Colton laughs. “Hardly.” He claps me on the back. “Let’s go. Weight training starts now.”
“Let’s do it.” Tossing the plastic bottle in the recycling bin, I draw my arms across my chest in a frontal plane to stretch my shoulders.
We thunk down the creaky stairs, and I scan the dank, dark space. The Ramsay’s basement is only half finished. With its concrete foundation crumbling, it has a definite dungeon feel to it. A worn-out sofa sits against the faux brick paneling. A shabby remnant of old shag carpet covers the hard concrete floor. None of it helps give the space a homey feel.
Paint supplies are scattered across a small card table in one of the corners, and Penny’s current art project sits on an easel nearby. I turn my head, trying to make sense of the macabre piece. An ocean filled with dark grays and blues churns around an isolated arm sticking out of the water. The hand struggles to reach the light barely visible through the swirling purple and charcoal sky.
I shake my head, the sadness piercing my heart. This piece must be a project for her art therapy class that meets once a week. Colt says it’s supposed to help her, but I don’t see how. Her projects are always centered around gloom and death. This one is no different.
I tap Colt on the shoulder and hike a thumb at the painting. “New piece for the living room wall?”
Colt rolls his eyes. “Don’t get me started. Last week, it was a child lost in the woods. I have no clue where she gets this shit.”
I squint at the picture. “She’s talented.” It’s true. It might be a little out there, but her use of colors and dimension is amazing.
“Yeah, yeah. And smart.” Colt huffs. “She’s moody as fuck. Hell if I can figure out what’s going on with her. She won’t talk to me.”
I know the feeling. Ever since I saved her from Mrs. Trenton’s wrath, Pen’s hardly said two words to me. Over the last year, she’s changed. And not for the better.
Her moods are darker, for sure. A few weeks ago, I invited her to play video games with me and Colt, hoping to see her smile. She quietly refused and sat in a corner reading all night. It’s like every bit of sunshine she had burned up and died like a dwarf star.
It bothers the hell out of me.
A slight squeak echoes across the room. I scan the dirty floor and cringe. “Mice?”
Hooking his iPod up to a small speaker, Colt shrugs. “Probably. We’ve had some issues the last few months. My mother’s a pain in the ass. She won’t call an exterminator. Says they cost too much money. And I can’t work 24/7 to pay for one.”
Wrapping my wrists with K-tape I straddle the weight bench with a sigh. Colt has been working two jobs since forever. “Sorry, man.”
How You Remind Me by Nickelback fills the cavernous space, and Colt waves me off. “Not your problem. You wanna go first?”
I take the hand towel he gives me and spread it across the head of the bench. Settling beneath the bars, I wait for his cue.
Grabbing four twenty-pound plates, Colt affixes them to the ends of the barbell. Gripping the bar, I engage my core, find my center, and slowly flex and extend my elbows as I easily press eighty pounds.
Fifteen reps later, I replace the bar across the support beams and steady my breathing. We’re starting slow. That works for me. I don’t need bulk. My coaches recommended that I gain lean upper body strength to help with my times.
Colt clears his throat. “Hey, man. Thanks for getting Penny a job at the country club this summer. It’ll be good for her to get away from my mother.”
I switch places with him, prepared to spot him. “No problem. The daycare isn’t the most exciting job, but it pays. Unless she’s a certified lifeguard?”
Colt huffs a laugh. “Pen? Hardly. She can’t walk around the block without huffing and puffing.”
I glower at him. He usually isn’t so flippant about his sister’s weight. “Come on. Give her a break. Maybe she’ll find a friend before school starts.”
He growls through his last rep and sets the bar across the support beam. “That’ll make my mother happy. She’s always bitching about Pen being antisocial.” He jumps up and removes his towel. Wiping his face, he says, “I think it’s more than that. She’s awkward and shy.”
I press my lips together. Being bullied daily likely has more to do with Pen’s attitude. Of course, I haven’t told Colt about any of my recent run-ins with her bullies. After the science fair fiasco, it’s better if he doesn’t go off half-cocked. Especially with a full ride to U of M.
I drape my towel across the bench once more. As Colt adds new plates, I center myself and pump the weight over my head. “Everybody’s nervous the first day of high school. She’ll be fine, man. She’ll find where she belongs.” By the third rep, my arms are shaking. Struggling to speak, I release a hiss. “Shit, how much weight did you add?”
He smirks. “Forty pounds. You can do it.”
Finishing my set with a growl, I burst off the bench. “Let’s see you do it.”
Arching an eyebrow, he exchanges places with me and hoists the bar up and down like some cartoon competing in the Amazing Race. Colt isn’t a typical athlete, but he’s still fit. He used to swim, too, but he hasn’t had time the last few years since he works most nights.
His chest heaves as he sits up and throws the barbell to the shag carpet with a loud clang. He inhales and exhales several times. “See? Easy.”
We collapse upon the floor. I close my eyes, attempting to regulate my breathing. Besides lifting at school, Colt and I have made this our Saturday morning ritual. I’ve gained almost ten pounds in muscle mass since January. Now that school is out, we try to train at least three times a week. I love it. He only has a few months before he leaves for Ann Arbor, and I want to spend as much time with him as I can.
He slaps me on the back. “One more set. Let’s go.”
As Colt resets the dumbbell, I stand and strip off my shirt. It’s soaked through with sweat. And it smells. I wrinkle my nose and throw it on the battered couch. “Let’s finish this. Not too much weight, man. I’m going for lean muscle, remember?”
“Yeah, okay.” As he resets the plates, he grins devilishly.
I arch an eyebrow. That can’t be good. Getting into position, I pull in my core. He stands over me. I grasp the bar and heft it upward. As it hits my chest, I struggle to extend my elbows. After one rep, I’m panting. “Shit! Are you trying to kill me? How much is on there?”
Grabbing the bar, Colt settles it across the support and bursts out laughing. “Almost two hundred.”
I bolt up. “Yeah? Your turn, asshole.”
As Colton settles upon the bench and pumps the bar over his head, he grunts. “So, I gotta talk to you about somethin’ serious.”
Interesting. Colton Ramsay isn’t a deep thinker. “Okay?”
He closes his eyes and steadies the weight before another extension. “I wasn’t going to go this far because I know my sister needs to work things out for herself.” He slams the bar back on the support and sits up. “But would you mind looking after her at RHHS? She might not be changing sites, but high school is different than junior high. You’re the only guy I trust to keep her safe. I worry about her, man. She had a really tough time in grade school.”
Glancing at the disturbing painting in the corner, I sigh. “Yeah, I got the same feeling.”
Actually, it’s the plain out truth. How many times have I come to Penny’s rescue within the last six months?
Rochester Hills Junior High is a gauntlet that only the strong can survive. And her classmates are the worst I’ve ever met. Even Mom has complained about the bullying she’s had to deal with the last two years, specifically with the girls in the eighth grade.
Maybe now it will be different. As a freshman, Pen will be swallowed up by the rest of the high school classes. She’s taking an advanced load, and I sure as hell won’t tolerate any of that shit as an upperclassman, especially if it’s aimed at my best friend’s little sister.
I clap Colt on the back. “You don’t even have to ask. I can play big brother. Your little sister is like mine, right?”
A smile lights up his face. “Yeah? Thanks. I appreciate it.” He cocks his head. “Will it screw up your plans with that cheerleader?”
Warmth spreads through my body as thoughts of my last encounter with Christy tickle my memory. Technically, we aren’t dating yet. But my parents and I went to dinner at the Mefford’s house a few days ago, and things seemed different. Dr. Mefford was friendly. Almost approving. Chris and I held hands, and our parents didn’t flinch.
I grin. “Nah. Christy’s been flirting with me for months. We’ve been doing the friend thing, but she turns sixteen in July, and we can officially date.” I laugh. “The club hired her as a lifeguard this summer, so we’ll be working together. A lot, I hope. I’m gonna ask Bruce to put us on the same schedule.”
He chuckles. “That shouldn’t be a problem. You’re their Olympic hopeful.” He whistles low. “Girl is smokin’ hot, man. She’s got a body that puts the gymnasts to shame.”
Hell yeah, she does. I grin. “I know, right? I went to the JV football games last year just to watch her butt clench in her tiny cheer shorts. Gets me hard in two seconds.”
He groans. “Jesus, that’s TMI, bro.” Sending a knuckle across my head, he wraps his arms around my torso and pile drives me to the carpet. I scrap back, grabbing the waistband of his shorts and wedging them upward as hard as I can.
Colt yelps and throws an elbow across my chest, pinning me to the ground. “Surrender, Donovan.”
“Never, Ramsay.”
We wrestle for a few more minutes. Out of breath, I grip his shoulder with a bittersweet smile. What am I going to do when he leaves? I can’t imagine not seeing my best friend every day. He’s like a brother to me, more so than my real sibling. Growing up, Jamie wasn’t the type to wrestle and fuck around. Hell, Jamie hardly talks to me.
Colt scrambles up and holds out his hand. “Come on. Let’s head to Sonic for a shake. Maybe your girl will be there with her posse.”
“Hold up.” I sniff my armpits and rake my fingers through my sweaty hair, tousling the front just as I do after swimming practice. Chris loves it.
“Alright, Romeo. Enough. You good?”
I smile. “Hell to the yeah, man.”
And I am.
This is going to be the best summer ever.