#the hackett kids can eat a few camp counselors AS A TREAT!!!

[queenofbaws]

“Where’s the rotor arm?” Jacob looks up from the bench to see Mr. H’s kid standing before him. His palms are sweating as he tries to answer. Shit, why him? He could handle Kaitlyn being pissed, but this guy?

“I-I don’t know. I don’t know shit about cars, man. I almost fucking died–” The older boy rests a firm hand on his shoulder, digging his sharp nails in as he lowers himself to maintain eye contact and repeats the question.

It had been something of a joke between the Hacketteers over the past couple months, how reclusive the Hackett kids were; it didn't seem half as funny now as it would've been any other day of the summer, not when each passing second prickled some new neuron in his lizard brain, a small and panicked voice in the very back of Jacob's head asking if Caleb's eyes had always been that color, if he's always been a walking, talking, space heater.

"I already told you," Jacob said stiffly - now very sure he'd been taller than Caleb the last time they'd been face to face - trying to roll his shoulder out of his grip, "I don't know where it is."

"Don't know where wha - oh, uh...hey." There was a quiet splash as Emma hoisted herself up out of the water and onto the dock, followed by a not-so-quiet clearing of her throat and an apprehensive, "Everything okay here, fellas?" as she folded her arms across her chest to cover herself.

Caleb didn't even turn to look, repeating himself like he didn't trust himself to go off-script: "Everything will be fine when we find the rotor arm and all of you are driving home."

"Aw hell, leave 'em be, Caleb," came another voice from the boathouse, so sudden that Jacob and Emma both all but leapt out of their skins...and there was Kaylee, pleased as punch, her smile distinctly unfriendly as she continued, "I skipped supper, after all."

six sentence sat(or)sunday!!!