Page 116

“Yeah,” Ciaran grunts, his eyes dropping to his computer screen as he crouches against the wall. “I saw her walk into a courtroom with her foster family. She turns eighteen tomorrow. This is their last chance to adopt her.”

Damn. Turning eighteen wasn’t a big deal for me, outside of commemorating it with a dick piercing. The three of us knew we still had to finish our senior year before we’d have any real freedom.

But for Noor? It’s a big fucking deal. It’s an age that’s been held over her head for years in the foster system. Turning eighteen will mean something completely different. It’ll be the first day she wakes up and spends the entirety of it with her new family.

That’s fucking heavy.

“I wish there were cameras in the courtroom,” I grumble.

“There are, but they aren’t connected to the main server,” Ciaran complains. “It’s the first thing I checked.”

“Are they all inside the courtroom?” Alastair asks, looking a little pale.

“The old man is that scary?” I ask. He told us about how he was held at gunpoint after his breakfast with Coach Helm. I don’t have a lot of experience with people like that.

My mom was adamant I not get involved with the gangs in this area while I was growing up. Hockey kept me busy as a kid, and then I found Alastair and Ciaran.

After that, I no longer needed the family gang life promised. I made my own.

“He’s worse,” Alastair grunts. “He could make everything that we’ve ever worked for disappear with an injury that would keep us from playing hockey. We can’t risk that. Not even for Noor.”

“So you don’t hate her anymore?” Ciaran asks from where he’s hunched on the ground. “I’m still struggling over here.”

“No, we don’t. We’re so close to getting the fuck out of Santa Barbara,” Alastair says, blowing out a breath. His hair is loose today, and he’s wearing a pair of joggers and a long sleeved blue t-shirt with his trainers. “Your parents are shitheads, dude. I wish you’d have told us how much worse things were getting, Ci.”

A lot of secrets are coming out between us. I didn’t think we had any secrets, but since Noor’s appearance at our school, I’m realizing I may not know everything about my best friends.

“Your mom needs help,” I sigh. “I don’t think she’ll be getting it any time soon with how your dad likes to keep appearances.”

“It’s easier if I’m not there,” Ci says sadly. “If my brother does get out of prison, I want to be able to reach out to him. I have my notifications set to tell me if he gets parole. Dad wouldn’t let me see him. This is my next best option. I’m on the do not receive list Dad made too.”

“Your dad is an asshole,” I say. “He needs to control everything.”

“Sounds familiar,” Ci breathes.

“No, it’s completely different actually,” I say, turning so I can still see the entrance to the court. There’s a chance they may slip out a side door, but I can see one of their cars from here. “You control the flow of information because it gives us a chance to see if we need to pivot. Do I agree with how you used that against Noor with the flyer situation? No, I do not.”

“It was fucked up, even for us,” Alastair admits. “From an outside perspective, I have to say it was effective. Dad is off my case and is living his best life planning a school theater renovation. Is it necessary? Probably not, but it’ll look great when it’s done.”

“As long as Alexa doesn’t complain, I’m good with it,” Ci says. “The girl is kind of scary. It’s lucky that she’s going to college for theater and not into the military. She’s too good at mobilizing people to do her bidding.”

“Are you sure you’re not exaggerating this?” I ask.

“Nope. I left Noor a note in her locker with a photo, but I had nothing to do with the notes inviting her to kill herself,” Ci promises. “I’m jealous, not a psychopath.”

“We’ll keep an eye on her,” Alastair decides. “We don’t need Alexa to get too confident and do something stupid. My stepsister is enough of a pain.”

I can’t help my snort-laugh, because Kelsie is insane.

Ci makes a noise under his breath as he taps his keyboard, and Alastair glances down at him. I continue to hold my post to keep watch for Noor, while still paying attention to the conversation.

My neck is bothering me from standing this way, so I drop to my haunches.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, not taking my eyes off the courthouse.

I have to say the weather is perfect today. The sky is clear and gorgeous, the breeze is chilly, and the trees are swaying slightly. The courtyard outside of the courthouse is stunning. It’s hard to believe cases are tried there when all I’d want to do is walk the hallways to bask in the history of the building.

I feel like this about most of Santa Barbara, and hate that my future is going to take me away from here. I know I can come back when I’m no longer tethered to the bullshit responsibilities of being a kid.