When we get home, I head right for my room, avoiding my little brothers. I know they're going to drive me crazy like always, and I’d rather stay in my good mood before meeting up with Easton.
I hang out there, doing my homework until it’s supper time.
“Slow down there,” my dad, Brody, says with a chuckle. “You’re going to choke,” he comments as I shovel food from my plate into my mouth.
“Leave him alone,” my mom, Ellie, tells him. “He’s a growing boy.”
“Yeah, what Mom said,” I mumble around a mouthful of food, while reaching over to grab a few more pieces of chicken. “You okay if I bring this for Easton?” I ask.
All the adults give each other a look, and I pause. There it is. The pitying looks any time I bring him up.
My parents love my best friend. He pretty much lives here, and there's a reason for that.
Easton’s home life isn’t the best. His dad is... well, he’s a raging asshole. Easton’s never admitted it, but I’m almostpositive he’s hit Easton in the past. I hate the man, and so do my parents.
His mom isn’t a horrible person, but she’s too nice. Or like my mom, Rain says, she’s a pushover. She doesn’t stick up for herself or her son.
My parents have seen him yelling at her a few times while they were out in town.
My dad, Chase, owns a car dealership and often goes to the auto body shop where Easton’s dad works to get repairs done on the used cars he acquires.
I went with him once and saw Easton’s dad yelling at his mom in the parking lot. All the woman did was bring him a sandwich.Guess it wasn’t the kind he wanted.
Seeing Mrs. Wright walk away in tears had me so upset. I never wanted to punch someone so badly as I did Mr. Wright.
“Of course.” Mom gives me a soft smile. “Why don’t we put some in a container for him?”
“Thanks.” I nod.
Mom makes him a plate, and I finish mine. The second I’m done, I’m racing down the street on my bike.
The park where we’re meeting at isn’t a well-known one. It’s meant for kids in our neighborhood, but the only kids right now are my siblings and me. It has a lake that we like to skip rocks on and a playground that's more of an obstacle course. The best part is the treehouse my dads had installed when I was eight.
I turn the corner and smile when I see Easton’s bike.
Throwing mine on the ground next to his, I climb my way up the ladder toward the dim glow of the light coming from the treehouse.
“Bennett, that you?” Easton calls out.
“Yup,” I chuckle, popping my head through the hole in the treehouse floor.
His lips curve into a smile, making my heart do that stupid thing it does. “Good. I thought you were a serial killer.”
“Really?” I chuckle, climbing in. I toss my backpack to the side. “What would you have done if I were?”
“I’d have kicked you in the head and made you fall to your death.” He shrugs.
“Someone’s feeling violent tonight.” I shake my head.
“Fitting with what we’re watching.” He grins.
The best thing about having a dad who has money isn’t the money itself. Sure, it’s nice, but I couldn’t care less about big fancy things.
It’s that he has connections. And one of those connections can get new movie releases before they’re even in theaters. Not sure if it’s legal or not, but as long as I don’t share them with anyone but Easton, I think we should be okay.
“You got the projector?” Easton asks.
“You know it.” Reaching into my bag, I pull it out and place it on the plastic crate.