Defending the Rush by Jamie Bennett

Author:Jamie Bennett [Bennett, Jamie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-09-08T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

The garage door cranked open and I hurried back behind the stove to stir our dinner in the big pot. No need to advertise that I had been standing at the window, waiting for the truck to pull down the driveway.

“Mer!” my brother bellowed in the garage. The door into the kitchen flew open and he skidded into the room. “This was the best day.”

“Really?” I felt a smile bloom over my face. “Did you guys have fun?”

Jory walked in behind my brother and threw his hat on the counter. “We did,” he told me. He picked me up and kissed me briefly, before moving to the refrigerator.

Brendan ignored all that. “You didn’t tell me that Jory and Davis Blake were picking me up today!” he accused me, smiling his head off.

“Davis Blake, the quarterback? I didn’t know that either!” I looked at Jory, who shrugged.

“Star power,” he said concisely.

“They walked into my Spanish class and Davis Blake goes, ‘Brendan?’ Like he knows me! They introduced themselves, as if anyone didn’t know who they were.” He lowered his voice again, imitating the football players. “‘Let’s go, Bren,’ and then we walked out in the middle of the period!”

“What? In the middle of the class, the teacher let you leave with strangers?” I looked at Jory, who was inhaling a container of leftover vegetables in yellow curry.

My brother stared at me like I had two heads. “Mer, they’re Woodsmen. People here would let them rob banks.”

Well, that was fairly accurate.

Words continued to tumble out of Brendan. “Everyone in the class freaked. Some of them screamed, and their mouths hung open, they couldn’t believe that Jory Morin and Davis Blake were there, getting me out of school early. Jory goes, ‘Any homework?’ and Señora Montiel was so shocked she couldn’t speak so I don’t have any. It was so awesome.”

“Awesome,” I repeated.

“We all went over Davis’ house, this huge house on the beach, and he has a boat. And a TV that’s like two hundred inches…”

Jory shook his head; no, not that big.

“His wife or his girlfriend or whatever, she made us cookies. And he had the dreadnaught back from Gunnar! And he wants me to show him how to play, so I taught him three chords and how to tune it, and he’s so bad. Jory said he’s the best quarterback in the league, but he’s honestly the worst guitarist I’ve ever heard. Terrible.”

Jory nodded; yes, Davis Blake was the worst.

“I’m glad you had so much fun—” I started to say, but there was more.

“After we left Davis and that lady’s house, we went out into this field where there was an old farmhouse but nobody around, and Jory and I threw a football, we played catch. He showed me why it always twists weird when I let it go. And he taught me how to tackle! I tackled him!”

I walked over to Jory and patted his arm. “Thank you,” I mouthed at him. He put down the empty curry container and hugged me to his side.

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