Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 103104 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103104 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Dad closes his eyes.
“Head on up,” I say softly to Dane. “Sleep. I’ll get us takeout for lunch later. We can all sit and talk.”
He shuffles off, but before he gets to the steps, he stops and looks back. “Dad, I don’t…I don’t hate you. I’m just tired.”
“I know, son. We’ll talk later.”
He nods and goes up the stairs.
As soon as he’s out of earshot, I turn back to my father.
He slumps. “He’s just like Vivie, all the ups and downs.”
“It’s worse now, and if you can’t see it, you’re choosing not to.”
Frustration hounds me. Jesus. I want to be a man, but I’m just a kid, only seventeen, and I don’t know how to fix this—my dad, my brother, our spiraling relationship.
He picks his coffee up. Worry lines his face. “I’ll work on this, okay? I promise.”
Later, after I’ve gone out and picked up lunch, I head up the stairs to check on Dane. I don’t see him in his bedroom or his bath, so I head to mine, and that’s where I find him. Huddled under my covers, clutching a pillow to his chest. The blinds are up and I ease them shut then put the TV on mute, letting it play. For some reason, I bring up a blog on my phone about how to watch the Star Wars movies in chronological order of events, and I click on A Phantom Menace. I wince. That’s the one with Jar Jar Binks, and I’ve seen it, but this time, it will be with fresh eyes, and I’ll think about Ava and her enthusiasm, her lips on mine—
Shit.
I bring the movie up on the TV, and soon I’m sucked right back into my childhood when I watched it with Dane and Dad.
With a sigh, I sit down on the side of the bed with him next to me. Even while sleeping, it’s clear by his drawn expression and the paleness of his skin that he isn’t really resting.
He’s going to be okay, I tell myself as I watch the movie.
He will. He’s all I have, and I’ll make sure of it, no matter what.
15
“Welcome back to the hellhole, Louise,” I murmur as I get out of my car and pat her. Another week has slowly passed by and it’s the start of a new one, but I’m still freaking here, digging my heels in.
Today is week three, and I’m going to get through it. I AM.
With a sigh, I jog through the parking lot toward the entrance. My hair is up in a high ponytail and swishes against my back. It’s scorching hot today, and I whip off my blazer and drape it over my arms before heading in. My shoulders shift inside my snug shirt, moving around to loosen the seams. It’s not a good fit for me, and I guess I’ve filled out more since last year. I could put in a request for a new uniform since all scholarship students are allowed three new ones each year, but there hasn’t been time.
Several Sharks, maybe seven or eight—Knox, Dane, Chance, and Liam included—lean against the wall in the foyer when I open the door. Girls encircle them.
“Slut,” comes from a low male voice in their group as I pass, and the girls giggle, the sound grating and clawing, but I keep walking.
Tyler, I remind myself. He’s the endgame.
A low thump comes from behind me and I turn around to see that Knox has shoved Brandon against the wall, pinning him with one hand, the other at his neck, knotted in his collar. Their backpacks lie scattered on the marble tile. Knox’s face is flushed and Dane pulls at his arm, trying to talk him down.
As I stand rooted to the spot—dammit, why am I standing here watching them?—Chance’s gaze sweeps over the hallway, probably checking for teachers, and stops on me.
He freezes, his nostrils flaring as he studies me, taking in my face.
I flip him off. Childish. Don’t care. Screw them all.
“Ignore them. Testosterone-addled morons,” Wyatt murmurs next to me and tosses an arm over my shoulder, and I lean into him, needing reassurance.
“Do you have any clue how much I adore you? If you weren’t gay, I’d kiss you,” I say on a long sigh, taking my gaze off the Sharks.
He brushes a hand over his gelled hair then taps me on the nose. “I’m irresistible to all sexes. I could pretend I’ve had a sudden change of heart, tell everyone your beauty turned me straight and all I want is you. Would you like that, locker neighbor?”
“You’re only offering to make me feel better. And don’t you have a teensy little crush on your teammate Jagger?” He mentioned it grudgingly at lunch one day when I asked how baseball was going.
A grunt and a thud sound come from where the Sharks are, and Wyatt stares over at them. “Don’t look, but Knox just slammed his fist right into Brandon’s face. And again. Shit.”