Forever Golden: Dark High School Bully Romance (Kings of Cypress Prep Book 3), Rachel Jonas [reading books for 6 year olds .TXT] 📗

Joss shrugs again. “Guess you’re right.”

I’ve noticed the girls getting closer lately, and I’m guessing we’re reaching that point where it no longer matters that Joss has known me since we were kids, because you know, ‘girl power’ and shit…

I take another handful of popcorn and glance toward the door again. This time, I spot Mike strolling in with Scar. She’s smiling in that blissfully unaware way we all have before our parents do something to permanently mar their images in our eyes. He laughs at something she says, but it’s clear to see he’s on edge. I can tell by how his eyes keep darting toward the empty seats where the team will sit once they come out onto the floor.

My guess? He’s scared shitless about showing up today. Which probably means Blue told him not to come.

I’ve only laid eyes on the guy a handful of times, but this is by far the best I’ve seen him look. His eyes aren’t all glassy, his hair looks clean. Like he might’ve even taken a comb to it.

I’m on edge, though, because if I know my girl, she’s gonna be pissed when she sees him. So pissed I actually feel bad for whoever gets stuck guarding her tonight.

She’s been hell on wheels lately, taking her frustration out on others because she’s furious he’s back in the house. So far, he hasn’t violated any of the many, many rules Southside’s laid out for him, but she’s ready and waiting if he does.

It’s crossed my mind that she should consider lightening up on him—mostly for her own sake—but I dare not mention it. She’d bite my head off for sure. So, as someone who knows what a delicate subject family can be, I’ve chosen to mind my own damn business.

So far, so good.

Someone in Maintenance decided it’d be a good idea to set the heat to ‘hell’, so I pull off my hoodie and drop it beside me on the bleachers. However, when I do, I regret it immediately because Joss takes one look at my t-shirt and starts with that sappy B.S. again.

“OMG! How sweet!” She points at my white tee, at the last name ‘Riley’ written in big, bold letters. “And isn’t that your jersey number? She picked the same one so you guys could be all cute and matchy?” she gushes.

“Here we go.”

“I’m just in awe,” she says. “Can we take a moment to talk about this incredible evolution you’ve gone through since the year started?”

“No.”

“Absolutely not.”

“I swear I’ll die if that happens.”

These are the collective responses given by me, Dane, and Sterling, hoping like hell Joss spares us.

She ignores us, of course.

“What brought on this idea? I mean, you’re fully committed to this whole ‘supportive boyfriend’ thing, aren’t you?” she adds with a grin.

“Just doing what she would’ve done for me during football. You know, had I not been such an ass.”

“You were such an ass,” Joss reiterates with a laugh.

No point in sugarcoating the truth.

“Pandora’s gonna eat this shit up. You do know that, right?” Sterling asks, eyeing my shirt with a grin.

I shrug, pretending that wasn’t the point, but honestly? This is intentional. I need Southside to know she has my heart, know I care more than I’ve ever cared, because things are going to change soon.

This week has been one filled with harsh realities. Starting with the conclusion I reached about two nights ago regarding my dad. Grandpa made a solid point, and I haven’t been able to get his words out of my head. He’s right about my dad being smart, tactical. Even if we don’t see it, he’s watching us. Watching to see if she’s making the right moves. Watching to see if I’m still head over heels for her or if things are starting to fall apart. Which means we have to play our roles and we have to play them well.

As if the universe just heard my thoughts, the unlikely answer to all my and Southside’s problems comes strolling into the gym.

“Watch my things. I’ll be right back.”

I feel Joss and my brothers’ eyes on me when I stand, grabbing my hoodie before shooting a quick text and heading down the bleachers to the court. When I pass Ricky, he glances down to his phone to read the message.

West: Meet me out back near the track.

If ever there was a conversation I didn’t want to have, it’s this one. Ricky’s been a pain in my ass since the first time I saw him dancing with Southside at the block party. What kills me is the emotion I see in his eyes for her. But tonight, I’m almost relieved he hasn’t been able to let go yet, because his love for my girl might be the only thing that saves us.

“This better be good. It’s fucking cold out here.”

I peer up from my phone when Ricky pushes through the doors, announcing himself.

“Wouldn’t have asked you to meet me if it wasn’t.” I haven’t even gotten into what I need to say and, already, I feel ill.

“What is it?” he asks.

“Honestly, I don’t even know where to start.”

“Well, maybe I should leave your ass out here to freeze to death while you figure it out.” He starts heading for the door again and I just say it.

“Augustin Ruiz is your grandfather, right?”

Ricky stops in his tracks and turns to face me but doesn’t speak.

“I think you’ll want to see this,” I say next, showing the image I’d been studying before he came out here. I snapped a pic of the birth certificate Boone shared with Southside and me, knowing Ricky would need more than just my word that this was real.

“The fuck am I looking at?”

“My father’s birth certificate,” I answer, enlarging the document a bit, zooming in so he sees clearly the section marked Father’s Name.

He snatches my phone and glares at it. With how his shoulders are suddenly heaving, I’m guessing this isn’t what he