by May Dawson
Josh rolled his eyes. “Well, let them say something, then.”
“I’m just saying. Nothing’s simple in a small town.”
Josh came around the car to me, tossing his keys in his hand once before he slipped them into his pocket. “You don’t have to make things complicated just because everyone else does, either.”
“I don’t mind,” I said lightly. “I’m trying to protect your reputation. You’re the new guys in school, and I am not the coolest.”
Kai settled his hand on my shoulder, his fingers warm and solid, a comforting weight. “Have you even met Josh? He is not the coolest.”
Josh grinned, a quick flash that made me want to smile too. “True,” he admitted. “But we aren’t going to tell anyone that. I’m going to win over this school by the end of the week.”
“Cocky,” I accused him.
“Bet me,” he said.
“Bet you what?”
He shrugged. “We’ll come up with stakes later.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
“Well.” He started toward school, then glanced back at me over his shoulder, looking mischievous. “You aren’t chicken, are you, Piper?”
“I’m not chicken.” My tone came out offended—which was ridiculous—and the boys both grinned in response. “I just make good choices.”
“Don’t hang out with us then.” Kai squeezed my shoulder briefly and then began to lope toward the school, passing Josh.
I hesitated, debating letting them leave me behind. For their own sake.
Josh put his hands to his chest and flapped his elbows, subtly, just once.
“I’ll take your bet,” I said, hurrying to catch up to them. “But you’re going to end up regretting giving me undefined stakes when you lose.”
“You might be surprised,” he said. “I can be very charming.”
“You should try it with me sometime.”
He pulled a face, sticking his tongue out between his perfect white teeth, then threw his arm casually around my shoulders, tugging me into his side. Even when that boy made a face, it was adorable. It wasn’t fair.
“Focus, you two,” Kai said, looking hard at Josh. “We’re at school now. Head in the game.”
“I’m always focused,” Josh said. “I can think about more than one thing at a time.”
“You can barely think about one thing,” Kai shot back. As the three of us walked up the stairs to school together, Kai sped up, pulling ahead of us like he couldn’t stand the way Josh and I were touching.
Eli leaned against one of the doors into school, talking to his friends, and he eyed me hard as we walked toward him. Josh’s arm dropped off my shoulder. He pulled himself to his full—considerable—height, although he didn’t betray the slightest bit of tension.
Suddenly, Kai’s pace slowed, and he was next to me again. His hands hung loose by his sides.
The three of us walked into the warmth of the hallway, leaving Eli’s cold stare behind.
Kai turned around and, as he walked backward, he winked at me. “Stay out of trouble, will you?”
His wink would be on my mind all day. It was such an obvious, casual attempt to comfort me after Eli’s death stare. And it was sexy as hell, too.
“I’ll try. See you at lunch?”
He shrugged, his face shifting back to neutral, non-committal but gorgeous Kai blankness; his usual. “Maybe.”
That maybe left me feeling more deflated than I should have, but I raised my hand in a quick wave before he turned and vanished into the crowd.
“That guy’s Eli, right?” Josh asked, his voice false-casual. “Did you have a thing?”
“He thinks so,” I said flatly. “He thinks we’re still having a thing.”
“He’s bothering you?”
I shrugged. “You don’t need to worry about it.”
“If it worries you, it worries me,” he said, his voice low and gravelly, the way it had gone when he touched the bruises on my face the night before. Then, as if he’d embarrassed himself, he shrugged, almost mimicking me a moment before.
If I’d felt like laughing, there would have been something funny about two people trying so hard not to care.
When we got into homeroom and took our seats, Misty leaned into the aisle, her eyes meeting mine briefly, a smile on her face. I smiled back. Then she looked over me, her gaze clearly fixed on Josh instead.
“Are you still coming to spirit night at Freddy’s?” she asked him lightly. “Best burgers in town.”
I was pretty sure that last night, I’d had the best burger in town. I’d definitely had the best view in town, given the guys’ reluctance to wear shirts. I rested my elbow on the desk, trying to look casual. Like I was thinking, not eavesdropping. I was totally eavesdropping.
“I wouldn’t miss it,” Josh said easily. “Maybe around seven.”
“Maybe I’ll see you there.”
“Maybe.”
Misty smiled at him and then swiveled back in her seat. The tips of her long brown hair whipped across my desk.
The flirtatious note in their voices did not make it sound like a maybe.
I crossed my legs at the knee, feeling restless and irritated. Misty’s hair kept swirling across my desk, making it feel like her stupid head was far too close to mine. She must have washed her hair this morning; she smelled like strawberries and creamy lotion.
I probably smelled like bacon and black coffee, and whatever car accidents and heartbreak smelled like.
If I were a boy, I’d prefer Misty too.
When homeroom was over and the bell rang, Josh said softly, behind me, “Piper.”
I pretended I didn’t hear him, just for a second while I was throwing my backpack over my shoulder and debating what to say.
Then I turned back, smiling at him. What the hell. I met him yesterday. It was stupid of me to feel hurt if he smiled at another girl and used that same tone of voice with her he did with me. I had no right to feel possessive.
“Come on, Josh, let’s get to Trig.” Misty put her hand on his forearm, tugging him past me. I breathed in the scent of his aftershave as his eyes flickered to mine apologetically. Then the two of them were gone in the shuffle of humanity.
Everything was fine.
Chapter 10
At lunch time, I headed outside, hoping—let’s be honest—that Josh and Kai would have once again invaded my private lunch spot. As I crossed the green yard, I spied them far sooner than I should, though.
Kai and Josh sat at the same table as Eli and Misty and a few other popular kids. As I marched by them, a tingling sensation ran up my spine, as if someone was watching me. I lifted my chin up, but tried not to watch them back. My hips swayed awkwardly, like I’d forgotten how to walk.
It felt like an achievement to finally reach the tree where I usually hung out. Usually, I enjoyed the quiet. I put the tree trunk between me and my old—and new—friends. I sank to the ground cross-legged, shivering a little, and leaned against the rough bark. I pulled out my apple and crunched into it, and although it was sweet and juicy, I barely tasted it.
Everything was fine.
Even from here, I could hear them, though; the breeze blew their voices to me. Josh told a story that made everyone laugh, but Kai’s occasional, sarcastic asides may have drawn more laughter. When the breeze suddenly died, I wished I could eavesdrop a more.
I heard them all get up after a while and head back toward school. The bell rang, distantly, and I wrapped my apple core in a paper towel and stuck it into the front pouch of my backpack. I should get going back to school myself, but I didn’t want to walk back in at the same time they did.
“Hey.” It was Kai who suddenly stood next to me. Despite the black motorcycle boots he wore, he’d moved on near-silent feet to join me. He sat, quick and graceful, and his shoulder brushed my arm.
“Hey,” I said. “The bell just rang.”
“Told you, I don’t care about tardies.” He bit down on a toothpick, w
hich bobbed up and down between his teeth for a second as he chewed on it.
“You don’t seem like you care about school much.”
He shrugged, the movement making his broadly muscled bicep move up and down against my arm. “Should I?”
“I guess it depends on why you’re here.”
“I’m here because I have to be,” he said lightly. “Like most kids.”
“You don’t seem like a kid.”
His eyes flickered toward mine, widening just slightly—almost imperceptibly—before he glanced back out at the line of trees separating the school from the houses behind it. “Well, you don’t either.”
A sudden warm glow rose in my chest, and I turned away from him too, hoping none of it showed in my face.
“I guess neither of us should. Graduation’s not that far away,” I said lightly.
“Ehh.” He leaned his head back, his eyes drifting shut. His dark lashes rested above angled cheekbones. “Lots of kids here. Worrying about kid stuff. Like fucking spirit night and who’s going with who. And football practice and Friday nights—who cares?”
My cheeks warmed, but at least he wasn’t looking.
“None of it really matters in the long run,” I agreed. My long-run plan started to race through my mind once again: my birthday, my tapes, my request for custody of Maddie. I’d move us to the next city over, away from my dad, get a job, get an apartment. It wouldn’t be easy, but I was someone who could do hard things. There were lots of things I didn’t like about myself, but I was pretty sure about that.
I could do hard things, for Maddie.
Kai fell silent. He ran his fingers through his hair and glanced at me, then glanced away again.
“You don’t talk much, do you?” I asked, thinking about how earlier in the car, he’d seemed on the verge of telling me something.
“You met Josh,” he said. “I usually don’t get much chance.”
“It’s just you and me right now.”
“It is,” he said, his voice warm.
I looked toward him, surprised by the note in his voice. His gaze met mine evenly.
“You’re friends with Misty?” he asked.
Disappointment fell over me, hard, but I said, “Not really. We used to be friends.”
“Why’d you stop?”
Misty had been my best friend when I was little. Her house used to be a refuge for me. “Grew up, I guess. Grew apart. We were born in the same hospital, almost the same day.”
“Misty was born in the hospital here?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Like…most babies. Where were you born? A barn?”
“You would think, huh?”
“I didn’t mean…”
He shook his head. “Don’t worry, you didn’t hurt my feelings.”
I blew out a slow breath, staring out at the trees again myself. Leaves rustled against each other in the breeze. I was so awkward; I should get away from Kai before I embarrassed myself anymore. “We should go into school.”
“We should,” he agreed.
Neither of us moved.
“Piper?” he asked.
“Yeah?”
He shook his head. “That name doesn’t seem right for you.”
“I didn’t get to choose it.”
“What would you choose if you were picking your own name?”
I was silent, thinking. For the first time, it occurred to me that maybe when Maddie and I started over, we should start with new names. It would help make sure our father couldn’t find us again. But most of all, it would be a truly fresh start.
Our father couldn’t choose who we were or who we became, even though he thought he could decide everything about our lives. He was going to discover how wrong he was.
“Would you be Kai, if you got to choose?” I asked.
“No fair turning the question around until you answer,” he said.
“I don’t know. You pick a name for me if you think Piper doesn’t suit me.”
“Piper just sounds so light-hearted,” he said frankly. “And you seem to carry a weight. A burden. You carry it well, don’t get me wrong…”
“I don’t intend to carry it for long,” I muttered, and Kai’s eyebrows lifted curiously. I smiled, trying to pretend I hadn’t given so much away. I had to distract him with something ridiculous. “Maybe I’d pick a princess name for myself. Aurora? Belle?”
“What’s your plan?” he asked softly. “What are you going to do to slip that weight?”
“Like Josh said in the car. I have my own secrets. You have yours.”
“Maybe secrets aren’t doing anyone any favors. Maybe we could help each other.”
“Maybe,” I said. “You tell me yours first.”
He hesitated, chewing on his toothpick.
“That’s what I thought,” I said.
He took it out of his mouth and tucked it into the pocket on his flannel shirt. “I guess we have to get to know each other better.”
“You sure you wouldn’t rather get to know Misty?” My voice gave away a bit too much of my insecurity, and I bit down on my lower lip.
He smiled slightly. “I don’t know. Should I?”
“No.” There was a raw edge in my voice. I didn’t know it was going to be there, or I would have swallowed the word.
“No. She’s a nice girl, and she seems perfect but…I don’t think a nice girl is what I’m looking for.” His voice was low.
We were so close that his eyes were a warm blur as he looked into mine. His lips were softly parted, inviting and kissable.
“I hope I get to know you,” he said.
“Maybe,” I said.
He closed the faint distance between us, his lips grazing mine. It was just the faintest, briefest nuzzle, and then he was gone, leaning away. His eyes were intent, gauging my reaction.
That faint, tentative kiss left my lips throbbing, as if I had to kiss him again.
But he was already climbing to his feet. He held out his hand, offering me help up.
“Come on, Piper,” he said. “Back to reality.”
“Reality, where we’re both late,” I said. I took his hand, just for a second to let him help me up, even though I didn’t need it. His hands were warm and firm, and my thumb slid across calloused knuckles as he lifted me easily.
“I think we’re in a lot more trouble than just being late,” he said, but he said it lightly, as if trouble didn’t scare him.
As we walked toward the now-likely-locked doors back to school, I wasn’t scared of trouble either. The fear would be back soon. It always was.
But for now, there wasn’t room for fear when I had this strange flutter in my chest.
Chapter 11
That afternoon, I walked out of the front doors of school and toward the parking lot. I stopped by Josh’s car, but the guys were nowhere to be seen.
Misty almost walked past me, heading for the last row, and then she stopped and turned around. She tossed her long, silky brown hair over her shoulder. “Waiting for Josh?”
“He gave me a ride to school.” I said it casually, but I didn’t mean it casually. Oh my god. I glanced toward school. If Kai heard that, he’d totally take back the you don’t seem like a kid compliment. I was being so high school.
She nodded. “Well, sorry. But he and Kai are meeting with the football coach.”
“Football?” I asked.
“Apparently, they were both really good in their hometown,” she said, tucking a long strand of hair behind her ear. Her eyes lingered on my cheek. Her tone was different, softer, when she asked, “How’s it going for you lately, Piper?”
“Fine,” I said woodenly.
She nodded. She seemed like she wanted to say something else, but she just smiled at me. “All right. Do you want a ride home?”
“I’ve got to get Maddie,” I said. “I’ll walk. But thanks.”
Just then, the Mustang turned into the parking lot. My heart froze in my chest. But Callum’s face was inside, his bro
ad shoulders filling the front seat. I drew a deep breath, filling my lungs before I realized I’d stopped breathing when I saw the Mustang.
Misty stared at me as if she could read my expressions. Then, as if she’d remembered we had to pretend there was nothing wrong in my life, she asked, “Are you coming to Spirit Night? We haven’t hung out in ages!”
“No,” I said. I would love to spend more time with Josh and Kai. I was not going to punish myself by watching Josh flirt with Misty if I had a choice. Hard pass. “Have fun!”
I opened the passenger door and slid into the soft leather seat.
“Hey kiddo, how was school?” Callum said. He put the car into drive as I rushed to close the door.
His voice was warm and teasing, but suddenly my mood was even lower than it had been seeing Misty. He saw me as a kid, when I had a definite crush on him. Kiddo. There was something so familiar and sweet in that word, but it was just a joke to him. And of course, my own dad was never picking me up from school and asking me those questions.
“Piper?” he asked, a note of uncertainty in his low, sexy voice.
“It was great,” I said. “Did you have the day off?”
He nodded. “I’m still getting into the swing of things.”
“You work at the big hospital in the city?” Blissford wasn’t big enough for our own hospital, although we did have an urgent care center I’d visited a time or ten.
“Yeah. Were you born there?”
I grinned. “You and your nephews have the weirdest questions. You guys making a documentary about Blissford?”
“Just curious,” he said. “I hope you haven’t had anything more serious to go to the hospital for.”
When he said that, his gaze lingered on my face before he turned his attention back to the road.
I rubbed my fingertips across the bruises absently. And then I winced. Yeah, they still hurt.
“Drive over to the elementary school, okay?” I asked. “I’ve got to pick up my little sister.”
“You have a sister?”
“Yeah. Maddie. She’s nine.”
He nodded. The elementary school was only a few blocks away, and when we arrived, he swiveled to get out of the driver’s side.
