Red Hair, Black Soul (Red & Black #1)

25 | I'm not gay

The knock sounds at nine sharp, insistent and determined. I pad over to the door and open it to reveal a happy-looking Jed.

"Is Makena with you?" I ask, sticking my head out.

"Nope." He says, popping the p. "It's just you and me."

"Oh joy." I say ironically. It's starting off as a wonderful day. Just Jed and me. For twelve hours.

For the first time in my life, I need a drink.

I narrow my eyes as a thought occurs to me. Jed's suspiciously tall today. I mean, he looks like a troll amongst hobbits on regular basis and towers over me like Goliath over David, but today I have to lift my chin even higher to look him in the eye. I drop my gaze to his feet and discover the source of all those extra inches.

"Rollerblading?" My gaze flies up all the way back to his face. "That's it? You're going to take me rollerblading?"

"Yup." He plants his hands on his hips, looking very pleased with himself. I think the only time when I saw him this proud was when I agreed to the deal that led me to this moment.

"But wh- why rollerblading?" I still can't understand. "Out of all the things you could come up with?"

"Well." He tries to shift his weight onto one leg but the wheels roll and he almost trips. "You said you liked it."

I try not to laugh at his attempt to regain his balance. "And you remembered?"

"Of course." He scoffs. "Who do you think I am? Okay. It was a rhetorical question. I probably don't want to hear your answer."

"You probably don't." I agree.

Jed nods, then takes a look at his phone. "Okay, we're done talking. It's already five minutes after nine. Go put on your rollerblades and let's go!"

I nod, then shut the door in his face. I don't want him wandering around the house while I'm lacing up my rollerblades. Using the inner door, I make my way out to the garage where I keep them. It's dark inside, and the light switch is hidden behind a tower of carton boxes, so I can't turn it on. Usually, we just open the gate and let the sunshine come in. Beware of looking for anything in here at night. Of course, Dad promised to clean it before the winter, but we have yet to see if he does.

Cursing myself for not taking a flashlight with me, I search around for them. Last time, they were in the far corner. But it's been a few weeks since I've last gone rollerblading, and it's like dog years when it comes to our garage's equipment. I honestly don't know where they get all the stuff, but I swear that every time I come here, the things seem to multiply.

My eyes adjust to the darkness and it gets easier to search. I can go grab the damn flashlight but I bet I'll sooner find the rollerblades in the utter darkness than I will something as small as a flashlight. Things tend to disappear miraculously in this house, and the smallest ones don't stand a chance.

I place my hands on my hips and pout. I bet Jed's getting impatient. Hell, he's probably counting the minutes so that he can take every single one and count it as his bonus time for making him wait. Growing desperate, I attack the cartons and start searching through them almost frantically, nearly throwing things out of them. When I don't find them anywhere, I get up and start searching the metal shelves Dad brought from some garage one day to keep his 'man stuff' on. I can't reach the top ones and even though I doubt my rollerblades are going to be there, I still give it a try. I have an older brother who derives pleasure from irritating me. Life is an endless scavenger hunt with him.

Once I found a gummy frog in my underwear drawer. I still have no idea what he was searching for in there.

When I can't reach the top shelves while standing on my tip-toes, I jump. My hand knocks over something, throwing it from the shelf. The sound of metal hitting the floor sounds in the space as what I suppose is a can rolls on the concrete. I ignore it and jump again, waving my hand above my head.