Page 53 of Saving Pookie

He cackles in amusement. "That was two years ago, you fucking idiot."

That's when I notice the empty chair between Pookie and Gunnar. "Is Kolter coming?" I ask, taking the coward's way out by changing the subject.

Boone clears his throat and shakes his head gently. "Kolter is taking the year off."

"Wait, what?" I stammer, confused at the revelation. "Is he in rehab or something?"

Boone twists his glare sideways and whispers to me, "Are you fucking kidding me right now?" He lets out an agitated sigh and scratches at the stubble on his chin. I've unintentionally set a trap for him, and he now has no choice but to talk about whatever he clearly wants to keep secret. He straightens himself out and rises to his feet. "I'm sorry this is the way you all have to find out, but my brother isn't coming back to Pinks this year. He's taking some time off for some personal reasons that he's not ready to talk about yet, but he says he misses you all." He narrows his gaze on me as he sits back down. "And no, he's not in fucking rehab."

"That's Braxton for you," Gunnar scoffs. "Always poking around in other people's business."

Normally, I'd be irritated at Gunnar's attempt to redirect this back on me. However, it's a welcome change of pace from Boone's judgmental gaze, which I totally deserve. "Gunnar, if you're mad about what I said two fucking weeks ago, you need to see a therapist. If you're upset because you couldn't hack the Marines, you should invent a time machine and try not being such a crayon-eating moron."

"You have an ass-beating coming your way one of these days." Gunnar aims his head to the sky and howls. "You're not in the military." He aims a finger at me in the shape of a gun. "You don't get to use the crayon-eating insult. And you know what, I'm not even mad about that. I'm not even mad about the hoe comment. That's the least of my ire. But what you're not gonna do is talk about my mama."

"I didn't talk about your mom," I correct him. "I said you were a mama's boy."

"Her name doesn't leave your mouth. Do you understand that?"

I respond with a roll of my eyes and a heavy sigh.

But he's not finished yet. "Everyone knows my mom and I are close, which I'm guessing you're jealous of since your mom has been hands-off since you were old enough to walk."

It takes me entirely too long to process the attack Gunnar has just dished out. It's a low blow, but maybe I fucking deserve it. For once, I'm stunned into silence, gripping the arm of my chair.

"Okay Gunnar, that's enough," Pookie says flatly. "You don't have to be such a dick all the time."

Gunnar's eyes dart in Pookie's direction. "Shut the fuck up and wait your turn."

"Excuse me?" Pookie huffs, and I want to defend him.

I needto defend him, but again, the whole stunned into silencething.

"You heard what the fuck I said," Gunnar says deadpan and takes another sip of water.

"Okay, I think this is getting out of hand," Maverick interjects, leaning forward. "Why don't we all just cool down?"

Maverick is what I call a shit-stirrer. He's a plastic spoon stirring the tea with a cocky grin on his face, but to his credit, he doesn't like that tea dark. He prefers to keep it light and fluffy, and there's a storm brewing in the sky. Not a literal one, but a figurative one. Reality is starting to blur and I'm not quite sure what's real anymore. Who's pretending to be mad and who's actually mad? Who's straight and who's... wait, that's not right.

"I agree with Maverick," I say, glaring at Gunnar. "Youneed to cool it."

Gunnar passes me a knowing smirk. He's up to no good. "I think we should talk about Pookie." He swivels in his chair to face Pookie. "I think you're hiding something. I think you're full of secrets."

"What?" Pookie asks, breathless. The pink complexion of his cheeks fades in an instant, the look of a ghost passing over him. His eyes twist sideways, looking past me as a shadow falls over that side of the table. There's this look in his eyes, this look I can't quite describe.

"Hi, everyone," a friendly voice beckons from behind me.

A malicious smile crawls across Gunnar's lips. "Everyone, I'd like you to meet the man I've been seeing." He rises to his feet and pulls out the empty chair beside him.

A man, a stranger, takes a seat in between Gunnar and Pookie. He's tall and slender with dark hair with spots of pepper in it. He wears white chinos, a white cashmere shirt, and his eyes are tucked behind an expensive pair of dark shades. He waves to the table and passes Pookie a sideways smirk. "I'm Cameron."

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

BRAXTON

"You're not a barbarian," Mr. Pink scolds me as he paces behind his office desk, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You made me look like a fool at The Spritz. Kamu called." He comes to a stop and braces a hand on his hip. Looks me straight in the eyes the way I imagine a disappointed father would. My father wasn't around enough to ever be disappointed in me, but I'm sure he would have been if he wasn't too busy being a disappointment to my mother.

I grip the arms of the chair with both hands and swallow nervously as I ask, "And what did this Kamu guy say?"