CHAPTER 19: Blackmail

It was weird. Weirder than seeing Emma outta her goth fashion. It was even weirder than seeing her smile. It was weird. Weird, weird, weird. It was weird and confusing, what I felt. I'd never felt like it before, and it was bugging me. It has been since I left the penitentiary with my shoes.

It felt like there was a hole in my stomach, where the butterflies that Emma once gave me escaped through. So, I did what I could. I tried to fill the hole with food.

"You gon' eat that?" I asked while chewing. I didn't even wait for Louie to reply. I just reached over and pulled his basket of fries towards me.

"Yeah, sure, help yourself," he said dismissively.

In the middle of the snack, Louie spoke again, updating me on what I missed at school. "Yo, Gwen Bellingham. You know her right?"

I nodded, not even taking my eyes off the fries.

"Rumors spread out that she slept with you."

I laughed. "They're not rumors."

"Damn," he reacted. "Well, she's getting shit on for it. You're like a virus, Trev. No one would even sit with Gwen today. Like she was contagious or something."

I didn't react.

As I chowed down on the potato treats, I could feel Louie's eyes burning on my head. "Dude, I'll pay you back. Would you relax?" I said, and a bit of deep-fried potato fell out of my mouth. Louie looked at me with disgust.

"Sorry." I wiped my mouth and guzzled down my drink.

Louie reached for the basket and set it aside.

"Hey!" I exclaimed, dismayed.

"The fries can wait," he said, swatting my hand away when I tried to reach for it again. "Dax is having a party tonight. Wanna --"

"Nah, I think I'll pass," I answered his unfinished question.

Louie's shoulders slumped. "Come on, man. You've been sitting idle since Emma went away."

"Not true!" I argued. "I've been helping Lally with her homework and stuff."

"You haven't been in school for two days," he simply said. "Don't tell me you've been absent all this time 'coz you've been doing grade school math."

I rolled my eyes.

"Dude, I know what you're going through," he said.

"How do you know?" I asked, sliding the fries back to me again. "I don't even know what the hell I'm going through."

Louie was holding in a smile, I could tell. "Couldn't sleep at night?"

I shrugged, then nodded.

"Feel like you could use a couple of beers?"

I nodded again.

"What kind of music are you listenin' to?"

I shrugged.

"Hand me your phone," he commanded. And I did. I didn't even have to show him the password. Damn asshole already knew. He opened my music app and shoved the screen to my face.

"Shawn Mendes," he stated, like he was making some sort of point.

"So?"

"So?!" he stressed. "Dude, Shawn Mendes is the male Taylor Swift! He's your go-to breakup artist!"

I wasn't getting it. "But I haven't been through a breakup."

"But you feel like you have! You've been acting like a broken hearted kiddo ever since Emma's arrest."

I sighed. "Have fun at the party, man," I said, sliding out of the dining booth.

"Trevor," he called. "You're really not coming? It'll get your mind off her."

"Nah," I said, trying to muster up a smile. "Lally's probably home now. I have to help her with math."

×××××

"If you had sixteen apples and gave four of them to your friend, what would you have?" I read from the textbook.

Lally's forehead was creased as she chewed on her pencil pensively.

I repeated the question slowly this time, hoping she would finally get the answer. "If you had sixteen apples and gave four of them to your friend, what would you have?"

"A friend?"

I facepalmed. "No, Lally!" I groaned. We haven't even finished half of her assignment!

"I'm bored," she stated, rolling around on the floor. She preferred the floor tiles than her actual study table. I don't even know why dad and I built that damn thing for her.

"You have to finish this, Lally," I reminded her.

She only whined even more. "But I'm no good at math! I'm no good at anything," she said, lying still on her back. The 8-year-old sighed. "This floor is like my life; cold and hard."

"Stop being melodramatic," I chided, closing the textbook.

"What's melodramatic?" she asked as I stood up.

"It's like the musical version of dramatic," I made up. "You know, like melodrama." I am the worst tutor ever.

"Oh," Lally said, still on the floor. "Like with singing and stuff?"

I nodded. "Uh-huh. Like with singing and stuff."

"You should stop filling your sister's head with all that baloney, Trevor," a voice came from outside the room.

Lally and I both gazed at the door.

"Daddy!" Lally chirped, finally getting off the floor and running towards the man in the stained Wendy's uniform.

"Aw, come on, pops," I replied, with a smile on my face. He's home early and the bags under his eyes were outweighed by the crinkling of his smile lines. It was a rarity to see him like that. "I'm just tickling her imagination."

"Her imagination's already off the chain without your influence," he said, lifting Lally up. "Did she tell you what she did in school yesterday?"

"No," I replied. "What'd she do this time?"

Dad looked at Lally, who ducked under his chin to hide her blushing cheeks. "She threw tater tots at this new kid."

"I was trying to make friends!" Lally defended with a pout.

I snorted back a laugh and bit on my cheeks. Yeah, I guess I am a bit of a bad influence on the kid.

Dad was looking at her weirdly. "How is that supposed to work?"

She shrugged. "Worked for Trevor." And, I've been ratted out.

"You told her to chuck food at people?" Dad asked me.

"I told her how Louie and I became friends," I reasoned. "I didn't necessarily tell her to do what I did back then."

Dad sighed and shook his head. "What am I gonna do with you two?" Ruffling Lally's hair, he put her down, saying, "Go finish your homework."

The kid skipped to his scattered books on the floor and rested on her tummy, taking her pencil and chewing on the end again.

I was about to go help her when Dad called me.

"What?"

"You're home earlier than usual," he mused.

That's because I've been home all afternoon, I thought, but instead, I said, "Mr. Lowenstein dismissed us early. Something about getting a cold."

"Cold," he mused. "That's why you two better layer up your clothing.  It's getting colder and colder," dad mumbled mindlessly as he looked out the window. "Isn't that Louie's car?" he asked, pointing outside. A jet-black Tesla Model was pulling in our driveway. The thing was a beauty. It was sleek and had red velvet seats inside. Louie called her Romanoff because her colors copied the Black Widow.

But I wasn't in the mood to be visited by Romanoff at the moment. Nor the guy driving her.

I groaned. "Uh-huh," I said, before rushing down to get the door. I heard footsteps going up our porch when I got down the stairs. I quickly got to the door and opened it. Louie had his fist in the air, probably to knock, but I just gave him a fistbump.

"Hey, Lou-ser," I greeted, as he stepped in, glaring at me for the fistbump. "I thought you were going to that party."

"I am," he said, lounging on our sofa.

"What are you doing here then?"

"Aw, come on, Trev-turd," he whined, "you gotta come with. The girls' soccer team just won a game. The whole team's probably gonna be there for the after party! Soccer girls, man!"

I sighed. "I told you, I don't wanna go."

Just then, Dad went down the stairs. "Hello, Louie," he greeted the boy crashing on our couch.

"Hey, Mr. Jetti," he greeted back with the nickname that I was never really fond of. "Trevor and I are going to a party tonight," he declared.

"No, we're not!" I objected, only to be ignored.

"Is that okay?" Louie continued to ask my father who was disappearing into the kitchen.

"As long as you don't miss any schoolwork," dad said, his voice accompanied by the sound of our fridge snapping open. "Trev's got a lot on his hands right now, helping Lally out with her homework as well as doing his own."

"Homework?" Louie questioned, and my eyes widened. Oh, shit. "Mr. Jetti, Trevor hasn't even been in sch--"

Before he could even finish the sentence, I jumped on him, smothering his face with a cushion. When his face emerged from the soft, brown pad, he was grinning like a Bond villain.

"Dude, shut the fuck up," I whispered, looking over to the kitchen cloister to see if dad was out. He wasn't.

"Oh, I will," he said, chuckling, "if you go with me to Dax's."

"I told you! I don't wa--"

"Oh, Mr. Jetti!" he shouted in a singsong manner. Oh, his voice was innocent, all right, but his smirking face said it all.

"Don't you dare!" I threatened, stuffing the cushion to his face again.

"Oh, I dare." His irritating voice was muffled under the pillow. I pushed it harder.

"I'll go! I'll go!" I whisper-yelled quickly just to shut him up.

Louie pushed the cushion out of his face. He laughed obnoxiously, slapping his knee as he got off the couch. "Man, I thought it was gonna be hard for me to convince you to come."

"You didn't convince me. You blackmailed me!" I said.

He waved me off. "Technicalities," he scoffed. "Get your shit. We're leaving in 10. I still have to run some errands."

I scrambled up the stairs to my room. I've been cooped up in the house for two days; I didn't see the need to change my underwear. To say that I needed a shower would be putting it mildly. But there was no time for hygiene. I rushed over to my drawer and blindly grabbed a pair of undies. I put them on in a record time as well a new jacket and tracks. I grabbed the nearest body spray and just let it rip. The air smelled like musky chocolate.

I threw the can back on the table. Its cap fell off and landed on a green notebook. Even with Louie's countdown, I couldn't help but stare at the thing. I remembered Emma's voice telling me that I had to find the owner.

"Trev-turd!" Louie shouted before honking like an impatient asshole.

I snapped out of my daze and shoved the diary in my jacket. I ran downstairs, past the kitchen, past dad, and out the door. I jumped on the passenger's seat.

"You're gonna thank me for this," Louie said, smirking at me. I didn't even know I had that smile. "I haven't told you about the best part of the party."

"What's the best part?"

Louie shifted the gear to reverse, but before stepping on the gas, he smirked and said, "Montgomery's gonna be there."