“I’m arresting him for beating on the boy.”
“But that was self-defense, and you said if anyone tries to hurt us, we should defend ourselves and—”
“Jules, just hush. I’m sick of both your mouths.”
Jules opened her mouth as if to argue that point too, before their father turned to glare at her. “I ain’t kidding, missy. You’re ’bout to be in as much trouble as Wyatt.”
“That seems unfair.” Jules folded her arms over her chest. “Like I’m not allowed to have an opinion. Miss Katling says it’s like the woman’s revolution never happened round here, and it’s our job to remind fellas of our rights.”
“Miss Katling has armpit hair and a nonexistent dating record,” his father said with a growl of frustration. “What the hell kinda things was she teaching you in that young woman’s class anyhow?”
Wyatt gave his father a wide-eyed look of warning. Jules had told him what she learned in that young woman’s class Miss Katling was hosting at the rec center, and he’d rather be grounded the rest of the summer than hear Jules blurt it all out in front of their father. He wasn’t even surprised when Jules started before their father could catch the hint.
“They told us about periods and sex and—”
“Forget it.” He held up his hands in defeat. “Please, Jules. Hush for five minutes. I’m begging you. I got a headache a mile wide.”
“Seems like if we’re arresting people for words, it surely ain’t nice to say Miss Katling has armpit hair.” Jules huffed. “I like Miss Katling.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“I heard you,” Jules said sullenly.
“I did too,” Wyatt couldn’t help but point out. “And you said she had a bad dating record.”
“God almighty, you two wear me out and confuse me in between. If you’re not killing each other, you’re doing this. Don’t think for one moment I don’t know what you did, Juliet. You’re changing the subject on purpose. You always bring up Miss Katling when you’re trying to get out of trouble. He’s still grounded.”
Jules turned and gave Wyatt an apologetic look, and Wyatt could only shrug in response. He surely couldn’t have put up that good of a defense for himself. If it’d been left up to him, he’d probably be spending the night in a jail cell.
His sister had a dark gift.
“And guess what you’re doing right now, buddy. You’re going out to the Powers place with me to say sorry to him face-to-face. I ain’t facing that alone.”
Wyatt nodded, deciding it was the least he deserved.
Chapter Nine
Wyatt never had to say sorry. Turned out there was no Clay Powers at the trailer park. He’d run away from home, and Wyatt went from feeling bad to horrible when his father had to launch a full-out search to find the homeless, injured kid his son had beaten black and blue.
When the sun set and their father still hadn’t returned from his quest to find Clay, Deputy Henry Caraway came and stayed with them. Though both Jules and Wyatt knew how to heat up one of the stacks of frozen meals their father had stored in the freezer, Henry took over and fixed them a real meal, which would’ve been a nice novelty if he didn’t come bearing bad news.
“Can you imagine him living on the streets all this time? How the heck’s he been surviving? You missed it, but after he dropped y’all off at home, your daddy dragged that dumb fool who’d been in charge of the Powers boy in for endangering a minor. Why the heck didn’t he report a kid his age running away?”
Wyatt was going to be physically ill. His stomach lurched, and he looked down at his food with a moan of misery. “I ain’t really hungry.”
“Boy, you’re always hungry.”
“Not always.”
“I think you’re upsetting him.” Jules gave Henry a look. “He already feels bad because of the fight. Now he found out he was beating on a homeless kid. He probably wants to drown himself.”
Nice of Jules to voice all his innermost demons out loud. Why’d God have to curse him with a twin who knew what he was thinking more often than not?
“You really sick, Wyatt?”
“Yes, I’m really sick.” Wyatt rubbed his head. “Can I go lay down?”
“Maybe I oughta call the doc,” Henry mused as he studied Wyatt across the table. “You ain’t looking so great tonight, boy.”
“I’m fine.” Wyatt got up without permission, hoping to take the attention off his bruised face because the last thing he wanted was Dr. Philips showing up. “I’m just tired.”
Henry didn’t stop him from sulking up to bed. Wyatt crawled under the covers, wishing he could go to sleep, but the pounding in his head, the rolling in his stomach, and the knowledge that Clay Powers was out there feeling worse than he did kept him staring at the darkened ceiling. He was so caught up in his thoughts he winced when the door to his bedroom opened, casting a ray of light from the hallway over his face.
He threw his hands over his eyes. “Close it quick.”
The door clicked shut, and Jules whispered, “How come you’re hiding up here like a coward?”
“I ain’t a coward.” He moaned. “I’m sick, Ju Ju.”
“I thought you were just hiding from Henry.” Her voice was suddenly low and concerned.
“That too. But I swear to God, I’m one wrong move from throwing up.”
“Maybe it’s a stomach bug. I hope you don’t give it me.” Jules sat down on his bed, making it bounce because she was always high energy.
That was the wrong move, and Wyatt physically shoved his sister to the ground in his attempt to make it out of bed and to his bathroom fast enough. He retched into the toilet, losing not just his dinner, but anything he’d likely eaten for the past week. He’d never thrown up so violently.
“Henry!” Jules’s voice echoed off the tile in the bathroom.
“Don’t!” Wyatt growled, hugging the toilet because just talking was making him worse, and the throbbing in his head made him feel like he was going to pass out right there on the tile. “He’ll call Dad, and then he’ll stop looking for Clay.”
“But—”
“Stomach flu don’t kill people,” Wyatt reminded her and then promptly threw up again.
“Jules?” Henry came bursting into Wyatt’s room.
In his life, he’d never seen someone move or think as fast as Jules. She managed to run out of his bathroom, shutting the door behind, and then say in a falsely bright voice, “Can you show me how to heat up some leftovers for Wyatt? Daddy told me to look after him.”
“That’s what you were screeching over?” Henry asked in disbelief. “I thought someone was dying up here.”
“Nope,” Jules said without missing a beat.
“Where’s Wyatt?” he asked, sounding suspicious.
“Brushing his teeth.”
“He’s gonna eat dinner after he brushes his teeth?”
“Boys are gross,” Jules said with such confidence even Wyatt was inclined to believe her.
“Okay, come on, missy. I reckon you ought to learn how to heat up leftovers, ’cause the sheriff surely ain’t gonna teach ya. Has he thought of putting you in a home economics class since he can’t cook to save his life?”
“You’re saying I’m supposed to learn ’cause I’m a girl?” Jules’s voice was shrill with insult.
“Now I ain’t saying that.”
“You didn’t ask Wyatt to take a home economics class.” Jules’s voice drifted out of the room and down the hallway. “You know Miss Katling says…”
Wyatt was on the floor when Jules showed back up. The cool tile was a nice distraction from the downward spiral his reality had taken in the past twelve hours. It seemed a mighty feat to ruin his life before middle school. The room was spinning, and he wished he had the energy to get up and flip off the bathroom light. It was making his headache so much worse.