Blake Blessing
Ugly Truths
Copyright © Blake Blessing 2019
All rights reserved
First published in 2019
Blessing, Blake
Ugly Truths: Astrid Scott Series #2
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. All characters in this publication other than those clearly in the public domain are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Cover: Simply Defined Art
Editing: Heather Long
Proofread: Zoe’s Author Services
Formatting: Rainbow Designs
Created with Vellum
Contents
1. Thatcher
2. Astrid
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
6. Rhys
7. Astrid
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
10. Beck
11. Astrid
12. Jonah
13. Astrid
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
17. Jonah
18. Astrid
19. Thatcher
20. Jonah
21. Beck
22. Astrid
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
25. Rhys
26. Astrid
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
36. Thatcher
Full Glasses and Burju Shoes
Marks of the Mazza
In the mind of Blake
Who is Blake?
Also by Blake Blessing
“Beck, man, what are you doing tonight?” I pulled the pizza out of the oven and set it on the plate. It was one of those cheap, cardboard pizzas that everyone loved as kids. They made a great meal for the poor, college student. A buck fifty wasn't bad for dinner, I could pair it with a nice craft beer.
“Astrid can't hang out, but I have practice with the band anyway. We have a gig coming up this weekend we’re trying to get ready for. We’re planning something different so it requires some extra practices. Later, some girl from Silver Ranch is having a party and asked us to play. Andy knows her and said she’s willing to pay about five hundred for two hours. Then we can mingle.” He sounded distracted.
“This isn't one of those twitch bitches we all hate so much, right?” About a month ago, the cheerleaders, known to us as the twitch bitches, tried to cause trouble for Astrid. They were no longer a problem. Not that any of us did anything to help Astrid. She managed to take care of herself all on her own. Damn if that wasn't sexy. Although we did have a very strongly worded conversation with her after everything calmed down. We didn't want to steal her glory, but we needed to know she wasn't going to go maverick and disappear on our asses.
“Nah, I don't think this girl really cares about anything enough to bully anyone. Apparently, she just likes to party and get laid. Astrid knows her actually. I picked her up from a party there last month.”
Before I knew her. Damn him for having such a casual friendship with her. We were friends. But it was always a little weird given that I tutored her in school, even if it was my idea so I could spend more time with her. Oh, and there was the fact she walked in on me getting a blowjob.
“Cool, cool. When do you think we’ll all get together again?” Ever since the night of the scholarship showcase, we hadn't spent any time together. Call me a pussy, but for a minute, it really seemed like we all had some kind of weird bond. I had friends at school, and I had Trinity, my sister, but these guys were different. The hockey star, the Rock star, the school nerd, and me, the starving artist. Astrid was the sun we revolved around, giving guys from different walks of life a unique connection. But there were certainly similarities. We all seemed like we had ghosts in our lives we were trying to exorcise, and we seemed stronger when we leaned on each other. Or when Astrid leaned on us.
“I don't know. Astrid was always the common denominator, but she's been busy with school. Her parents are apparently better, but it's been starting to slip like the old days before she made her dad a deal.” Beck sighed heavily into the phone. Out of all the guys, Beck and I were actually friends before we knew Astrid. Funny how small the world is sometimes.
Wait. Where was he getting this information? Was everyone hanging out and excluding me from their merry fucking fest?
“How do you know that?” I tried to keep the hurt out of my voice, but it slipped through anyway. I was an art student. Moods were par for the course, and Beck was used to my over emotionalism by now. Given he wrote poetry he turned into songs, and mostly love songs, he suffered from the same thing on occasion.
“I called Astrid yesterday when I hadn't heard from her. I wanted to check in. She's ignored all of my advances, but I can at least be her friend.” He acted like he tried to pick her up, but he was eerily shy around her.
No, not shy. He sent her platonic smiles when she was watching, scorching looks when she wasn’t, and used any excuse to get her to touch him. But he wasn't giving her any of his cheesy pickup lines he used on one-night stands, or making it overtly obvious he was into her. While he said he tried, he really hadn't. He probably didn't know how to act when it was a girl he had actual feelings for.
How often was he calling Astrid? We had a running chat group I had titled “Astrid's Heroes”, but after a week or so, it fizzled out. I still went to the art room every day to see Astrid, but our relationship was very much teacher-student-esque while I was there. It had to be, or Mr. Music wouldn't hesitate to kick me out of there, and wouldn't think twice about notifying Dan of my shenanigans. I'd rather have more time with her than nothing at all.
“How often do you call Astrid?” I prodded. If she was taking calls from Beck, then I could call her, too.
“I try to call her every couple of days so she doesn't forget about me. Jonah already gets her lunches, and Rhys lives across the street. Hell, you even see her in class for some one-on-one instruction. I have to find my time.”
I could imagine him shrugging. He was passive-aggressive enough that he wouldn't let her forget him.
“I get it. You don't have an immediate tie to her,” I placated him. “All right. Well, I have some grading to do for Dan, I'll catch you later.”
“Later.”
We disconnected and I carried my pizza over to the table. For an artist, I didn't like a mess at all. And crumbs on my couch were definitely messy. Not that the old couch was anything special, I got it half price at the local thrift shop. But small, sharp crumbs digging into my skin always deteriorated my mood. And no one needed a moody Thatcher. I managed to work myself up enough without the help of the inanimate food cast offs.
The crunch of the pizza as I cut into it satisfied me in a way that few things rarely did. There was no other way to make the pizza than right on the rack. My phone sat quietly next to my plate, daring me to pick it up.
I could text Astrid. I had her number.
Chances were, she wouldn't think anything of it. But why hadn't I done it before now?
&n
bsp; Because I was a chicken shit. I’d already promised myself that between trying to go to school and taking care of Trinity, I couldn't distract myself with a girlfriend. Not one that needed a boyfriend to support her as she tried to separate from her parents. And she was going to need it when the time came. Just like I had needed help.
Only, Astrid didn't need a superhero. She was her own fucking hero. We should buy her a red cape and call her Super Cam. Now, I sat here, so disconnected from a group I really wanted to be a part of. What could one little text hurt?
ME: Hey
Wow, that was the lamest text I'd ever sent. I shoveled another bite of cooling pizza in my mouth as I glared at my phone, willing a much smoother line to come to me. Anything that would engage her to chat was better than hey.
ASTRID: Hey back :)
I could work with this.
ME: What are you doing this weekend? I need to have time with you where it's not considered against school rules if we get friendly.
Fuck! What did that mean? Now she was going to believe I wanted to frisk her in the school closet instead of talking like actual friends.
ASTRID: oookay. Not sure what that means.
ME: *facepalm* I meant where I'm not stuck in the role of teacher. Nothing nefarious on my mind. Promise. You want to meet my sister?
I needed to exit this conversation quick. Clearly, I lacked any social skills when it came to Astrid. Right as I was about to tell her I had to go, the screen lit up with her name dominating the space. The background was a picture of the painting I did at her school during our period together.
She’d been so stressed, I thought it would be fun for her to relax and see me in my zone. And I was trying to impress her. It was a beautifully abstract picture of her, with her camera obscuring her face. Alluring, but private. Sweet, but with a little deviousness. You had to have a little bit of that when you took pictures of people without their permission, right?
Without letting myself second-guess the decision, I picked it up.
“Hey,” I cringed, and I didn't even know why. It wasn't like hey was a weird way to ask for sex.
“What's up? Your texts were jumping around so I thought I'd call.” Her voice had a slight husky quality that at her age was a promise of what would come. No one would believe she had a voice like that. I had no idea where she got it from.
I'd never met her mother, but from what Rhys had said, she didn't have a sexy bone in her body, falling more the way of an asexual headmistress that loved doling out punishment.
Astrid was different than anyone I’d ever known. Innocent, but cynical. Brave but afraid. There was much more to the petite hippie girl than people realized.
“Sorry, it sounded like I've never held a conversation over text message. I have, I assure you. What I meant was, I never introduced you to Trinity. I think you'd really love her and she's about your age.” Hearing her voice reminded me of our time at school and put me at ease. It was a familiar setting that I could work with. My dumb ass should have called her from the beginning.
“Really? I'd love that. If she's like you, I'm sure she's awesome. And I'd love to come back to your place again.” She laughed low, the husky tone deepening.
Was she... flirting? After the bathroom incident, we pretended like it hadn't happened at all. And none of the other guys acknowledged they saw anything, although I'm sure we’d all beat off to the image of water dripping down her naked body more than once.
“Great. What about Saturday? We can make dinner and watch a movie. Whenever we get a chance, we do a movie night. It's my turn to pick. How do you feel about scary movies?”
“Oh, Beck just asked me to watch him play Saturday.” Sadness whispered down the line. She really did sound bummed.
Beck had mentioned having a gig. I should have realized he would ask her to watch him. Astrid hated being in crowds and immersed in people in general, so I hadn't really considered she would want to go.
“Why don't you come with me and I'll see if Rhys and Jonah want to go?”
There was the togetherness I'd been missing. Why did it feel like this wasn't what I wanted either? Damn, I needed to make up my mind. I wanted to hang out with everyone. But I also wanted Astrid to spend time with my sister. Just us.
“I'd love to. But... How many people will be there who would recognize me from school?” It burned to turn her down. As much as I wanted to spend time with her—them—I couldn't get into trouble. And being seen with someone I was tutoring had trouble stamped across it in bright, bold lettering.
“I don’t know. I didn’t see anyone I knew last time. Besides you.” A tapping came down the line as if she were drumming her fingers over some kind of hard surface. “How about Sunday? We could make a day of it after I get out of church.” Her hope pierced the dark mood hanging over my head.
I loved that she was trying to find an alternative to spend time with me.
“Trinity won't be here. She works every Sunday at the ice cream shop, but we could still watch a movie. You can pick.” The offer when we would be alone felt suspiciously like a date. That thought turned my heart into a freshly caffeinated jumping bean.
Did she suck in a short breath? “Yeah, I'd really like that. We can't really be ourselves in the school library. Or even on the lawn. Too many people watch you. You're a bit of a celebrity at school.”
“What?” I laughed. “I've never noticed anyone acting starstruck or running into walls when we pass by.”
“The girls are more discreet than that. But come on, you're a hot college student that looks like the more attractive but no less mercurial twin to Jared Leto.”
I rolled with laughter. I'd heard the reference more than once over the years, but from Astrid's lips, it was fresh and new.
“I'll have to pay more attention tomorrow. For Sunday, what time can you get here?” The pizza was now cold and forgotten as I waited for her response.
“Probably by one or one-thirty. I need to change out of my church clothes and then I can be there. Watching a scary movie in clothes I wore to worship Jesus aren’t very comfortable. The dresses Mother Dearest approves of are too stiff and restricting.”
She chuckled and went on. “Do you want me to bring anything?”
“Nope. I'll class it up with some Hamburger Helper. And maybe add some Reese Pieces to the popcorn.”
“I'll see you then.”
“See you.” I smiled softly at my pizza as we disconnected. Looked like I had some quality time with Astrid to look forward to this weekend.
“Okay, so let’s go over this one more time, Ass.” Ryan, who was my best friend outside of the guys, flopped backward on my bed, throwing an arm over his eyes as if he was the second coming of Scarlett O’Hara. His shirt rode up to reveal a thin strip of tan skin over his shorts. It was completely smooth. Like not a trace of a happy trail. I bet the fucker Nair’d it.
“Do we really have to? You’ve already made me tell you twice.” I slumped back in my window seat, reveling in the fact that Ryan was in my room while my dad was home. It was weird, having a boy in here. When Ryan came to the door, Mother Dearest started to say something I was sure would embarrass me, but Dad jerked on her arm and pulled her away with a pinched look over his shoulder. He hadn’t liked it, but he was upholding his end of the bargain.
Rhys and I had the misfortune to walk in on his dad and my dad getting nasty. It was traumatizing and eye opening. It wasn’t a good moment for the dads. My pastor father was embarrassed his only daughter caught him in such a compromising position. Rhys’ businessman dad, while also not ecstatic to have been caught, was more arrogant about the whole thing. He was the kind of man that believed everything was his right, and no one was important enough to stop him, or judge him. Funny how he got together with a pastor, especially one like my father who judged everyone. I was just thankful Rhys wasn’t anything like Mr. Bennet. Maybe he was switched at birth. Anyway, I took the opportunity to persuade Dad to give me more freedom, and the opportun
ity to go to a college of my choice. It wasn’t hard, I only promised I wouldn’t tell Mother Dearest if he complied. Some might call it blackmail. I called it insurance.
Days after the event, as I liked to refer to it, his battle with his promise was obvious. I pushed to test him, seeing how far he would let me get away with my newfound freedom. I asked to go to Rhys’ game, then Jonah’s debate. I even stayed out to grab a late dinner after the night I showed my portfolio. Dad’s jaw would tighten and he’d glance away as if he couldn’t stand to look at me, but he hadn’t interfered.
I thought I would have felt guilty for forcing his hand that way. For dangling his loveless marriage over his head in order to get something I wanted, but every time I had even the smallest interaction with Mother Dearest, it hardened my belief that I’d made the right call. Even if it was an unorthodox call.
The other pointless worry nagging at the corner of my mind was how Rhys would view me from that moment forward. Even the other guys took up a small piece of that particular fear. I shouldn’t have given it so much thought. Rhys and the others, they thought I was some kind of badass now, manipulating the situation to make sure I got the future I wanted.
Only, I didn’t feel like a badass. I felt terribly normal, trying not to wish my life away, while desperately aching for a time where I could be independent.
“Yes, bitch. This is your penance for ignoring me so long. I need every inconsequential detail and I needed it five weeks ago.” He huffed.
Ugly Truths: A Contemporary YA Romance (Astrid Scott Series Book 2) Page 1
