by S. Massery
“Unacceptable,” Robert says. “You are bright. You have a future ahead of you that I refuse to see you throw away.”
I shake my head. “I get it. You wanted the best for Josie. But me? Once I leave, I have nothing. I’ll be starting over—again.”
Lenora puts her hand on top of mine. “You don’t have to leave.”
The whole world screeches to a halt.
“What?”
She smiles at me, but it’s tentative. “We want you to stay.”
“Even when you age out,” Robert adds. “And…”
“If you want to go to college, we’re going to support you.” Lenora reaches out and wipes a tear from my cheek.
I didn’t even realize I was crying, but everything is blurry. My chest is tight.
There’s a very specific decimation of a foster child’s hopes. The kid I was knew my parents would’ve taken me to visit colleges, helped me fill out the form, co-signed on a loan. They would’ve urged me to get a job to help fund it, maybe given me rides or taught me how to drive.
And then Mom abandoned ship and Dad was taken away.
The first foster home I was put in was horrific. Eight kids, severe rules, no freedom. No friendships. School and home. No dinner if we were bad. The older kids made lunches for the younger ones, tucked us into bed.
I don’t remember their names.
Another home, and then another. Some were abrupt, some were only meant for short periods of time. Angela was my saving grace, or the devil that I didn’t want to see coming. She represented change.
Caleb almost destroyed my relationship with the Jenkinses. And only a few weeks later, they’re asking me to stay… permanently.
“I don’t…” I don’t know what to say. How to react.
My heart pounds. And, surprisingly, there’s a large amount of fear in me, too.
Because this could end. They could change their minds and send me away.
“We would never want to come between you and your father, Margo,” Lenora says, “but we would adopt you if we could.”
I shake my head. “It’s only been a few months. How do you know? Why…” Why do you even want me?
“You’re smart and kind,” Robert says. “And you fit in with us. You’ve had a hard life. We want to be your home, kiddo.”
I shake my head. “What do you mean, come between me and my father? We don’t have a relationship.”
Lenora and Robert exchange a glance. She raises her eyebrows at him, and he frowns.
“You could if you wanted to.” Lenora holds up her hands. “We’re not pushing this on you, Margo. But if you wanted to see him, we’re supportive of it. You haven’t seen him since the trial?”
I close my eyes. “I wasn’t allowed to go to the trial. The last time I saw him was at the park when he was arrested.”
Do I want to see him again?
Behind bars? Seven years older?
No.
I stand. “Thank you both. For… everything.”
Robert stands, too. “Do you want to go to the NYU open house?”
I bite my lip. It’d be an excuse to go into the city—then Riley and I wouldn’t have to think of another reason. And as much as I hate to admit it, I’m curious.
“I think so.” Even if I can’t get in, or afford it, I can live in the pipe dream for a day.
“Great. It’s settled, then. We’ll all go.”
My mouth drops open. “Us?”
“As a family,” Lenora supplies. “I went to NYU for graduate school. It’d be lovely to go back.”
I grin. “So you’ll know your way around? And the best place to get coffee?”
“Yes. Oh, this will be so much fun!” Lenora claps and jumps up. “I’m going to get dinner started.”
“I have homework to finish,” I say.
“Me, too,” Robert adds, looking down at the stack of papers. “Who knew an art teacher would assign homework? How terrible of me.”
We laugh, and Lenora hooks her arm around mine. She pulls me out of the room, leaving Robert back to his silence.
Once I’m back upstairs, I grab my phone. Since the text from Unknown asking me what I’m going to do with Caleb not interested in me anymore, there’s been radio silence.
I only hope it lasts.
20
Caleb
I climb out of my car and circle to the front hood. I lean against it and wait. It only takes a minute for the other car to arrive. It pulls up next to me, and Mother gets out. She comes toward me, spreading her arms, but I shake my head.
She sighs.
“I’m curious if you saw your life going in this direction from the beginning,” I comment, staring at the diner across the lot. It’s run-down. Only regulars venture in, and I’m sure some stay all day. It’s the kind of diner that’s open twenty-four hours, the neighborhood’s only gleaming beacon in the middle of the night.
Her life has certainly changed.
“It really picks up for brunch on Sundays,” she says. “Surely this isn’t the reason you wanted to meet?”
I shift. “I’m mostly curious about why you let your brother-in-law run the show?”
She glances at me. “Your father wants it that way.”
“What a fucking joke.”
“David and Iris have done more for our family—”
My glare cuts her off. Honestly, I’ve had enough of them. Uncle David holds my entire life over my head. He’s been interfering with lacrosse, which hasn’t even started yet, and he will not shut up about fucking college.
I need space. And unfortunately, space is something Mother can help me with… by delivering a message.
But first, I need answers.
“Do you know where Amberly is?”
Margo’s mother has been eluding me for too long, but not without help.
She straightens her maroon uniform shirt. “Is she back in town?”
“We both know the answer to that.”
“Shame,” Mother comments. “Rose Hill isn’t good for the poor woman.”
I shake my head.
She cups my cheek, forcing me to meet her eyes. Mother looks rough: circles under her eyes barely concealed by makeup, loose skin hanging off her frame. She lost weight recently. It’s been falling off slowly in the past seven years.
Guilt has a way of doing that.
“Tell Uncle David that I only have one college on my list.”
She raises her eyebrow.
“Columbia,” I inform her. I step back, letting her hand slip off my skin. It hovers in the air between us for a moment, then falls. “Bye, Mom.”
21
Margo
My floorboard creaks.
I open my eyes just as someone presses down on top of me, a hand wrapping around my throat. Caleb doesn’t squeeze. There’s barely any force applied to my skin.
I’d recognize him even in the pitch-black. As it is, moonlight filters through my curtains, casting strange shadows across his face. We don’t speak. He peels back my comforter, and I put my hands on his wrist. My fingertips catch his quick heartbeat.
He drags my shorts and panties down my legs. I kick them off, unable to look away from his face. It isn’t just the shadows—there’s darkness in him tonight. His fingers find my center, sliding into me.
“Soaked,” he whispers.
It’s an automatic response to him. Always.
“Did you enjoy girl time?”
I don’t answer. Can’t, since his hand squeezes my throat for a second, then goes back to the gentle hold.
I release his wrist and go to his pants. I unbutton them and shove them off his hips. He stands, removing them, then comes back. A condom packet lands on my chest.
I tear it open with shaky hands, casting a quick glance to the door. It’s closed this time, at least. He doesn’t climb back in bed like I expect. Instead, he pulls me to the edge of the bed by my thighs. I sit up and roll the condom onto his hard length. It bobs a bit under my touch.
/> Caleb releases a hiss of breath.
And then it’s on. He holds my thighs and plunges into me without warning. This new angle makes me arch off the bed. He stares down at me, and my cheeks heat. It’s dark, but I think he can see everything. He slams into me over and over again, our skin slapping together. I hook my feet behind him, lifting my hips to meet him.
It’s also…
Not intimate.
I reach up and grab his shoulders, pulling him down. He pauses, staring at me.
“Come here,” I whisper, scooting away from him.
He exhales, but he does. He crawls over me, our bodies pressed impossibly close. And when he pushes into me again, we both shudder. I wrap my legs around him, holding him against me.
“Your plan failed,” I say in his ear. I nip his soft lobe. “Lenora and Robert want to keep me.”
I kiss his neck. He stays completely still except for the slight roll of his hips.
I move up his jaw, along the edge of his lips.
“You failed to get rid of me,” I say.
He lets my lips explore his cheek, his temple. Over his eyelids and nose.
I’m learning him all over again.
“I didn’t want to get rid of you,” he finally whispers back. “If you thought that was my goal, you haven’t been paying attention.”
We took his darkness and put it into a new shape.
Me.
I let my hand wander up inside his shirt, over his muscled abs, to the bandages still wrapped around his chest. I wish I knew why someone would do such a thing to him. Why family can be so cruel.
“Kiss me,” he says.
I lift my chin, aligning our lips. He tastes sweet, and he kisses me like he can’t breathe without help. Sometimes I feel like that, too.
His hips move again. His hand slips between us, finding my sensitive spot. He knows how to play my body like an instrument, winding me tighter and tighter until I explode. His tongue dances with mine, our lips, his finger against my clit.
It’s all too much.
He swallows my moan, chasing it a second later with one of his own. I rake my nails up his ass, and he pounds into me, faster and faster. He flicks my clit, and the sudden sharpness of it sends me over the edge. He follows, stilling inside me, and we both don’t move for a moment.
“That was overdue.” He brushes my hair off my face.
He hops up, removing the used condom and folding it in a tissue. He glances toward the window, and my heart stops. He’s just going to leave?
Screw me and abandon—
“Stop,” he whispers.
“Stop what?”
“You’re overthinking. When have I left you?”
“Um, do you want a list or an essay—”
“Have I left you when you didn’t want me to go?”
I’m quiet. There have definitely been times I wanted him to go—and he has gone. And there have been times I wanted him to stay… and he stayed.
He takes my silence as an answer and yanks his boxers back on, climbing into bed. He hugs me to him and closes his eyes.
“Robert and Lenora want to keep me,” I say again. “Like… for real.”
I glance up and find him watching me.
“We’re going to NYU for an open house this weekend.”
His smile is quick. “New York University, huh?”
“It’s a starting place. But there’s no guarantee I can get in—or if I’d even like it. Maybe I want a small school.”
“What about—” He stops, shaking his head. “You know what? Never mind.”
“Tell me.”
“They’re keeping you… adopting you?”
I frown and roll onto my back. “No. Dad still has custody.”
“You don’t think he’d forfeit his rights?”
“I don’t know if I want him to.” That would be the last straw. Dad giving up on me—willingly, after everything else that’s happened.
“He’s in prison, Margo.” Caleb’s voice is hard. “Why do you still care about him?”
This is the first time we’ve talked about him, and all the animosity Caleb used to throw at me is now back in his voice. I barely suppress a shiver.
“He’s my dad.”
He grunts.
“Caleb?”
“Come here,” he says.
I turn back on my side, and we face each other. His finger runs up my arm, over my shoulder and along my neck. His thumb brushes my pulse point. Slowly, he leans forward and kisses my forehead.
My heart flutters.
“Sleep,” he orders. After a long moment, he adds, “We’ll discuss the pitfalls of your father later.”
That doesn’t sound good.
22
Caleb
Early morning, Margo’s phone buzzes. It wakes me out of a sound sleep.
My eyes snap open. Her cheek is pressed against my biceps, her arm slung across my chest. Her legs are tangled with mine. Slowly, I reach out and feel for her phone.
Unknown: Do your foster parents know Caleb sneaks into your room at night?
Unknown: That he fucks you while they sleep down the hall?
What the hell?
Another text comes through while I’m holding her phone.
Unknown: There are things you need to know about the Asher family, Sheep. Things only I can tell you. Do you know who you’re letting into your bed?
Rage coils in my throat. I want to yell, to throw the phone. I had a hunch who Unknown is—I’ve had a hunch since she mentioned the texts to Coach. But this flagrant disregard for their lives has my blood boiling.
Me: I don’t know who you are, but I will find you and put an end to this.
Silence.
I delete the whole thread. Margo doesn’t need to see this kind of filth on her phone. Unknown is getting out of control, and I’m going to put an end to it.
Unknown: Hello, Caleb.
I stare at the text, then jump out of bed. Margo moans, rolling over, while I stare around her room. I’d understand if we were on the ground floor—at least that would explain a peeping Tom. But this?
Maybe a camera.
I move things, lifting baubles. I’m well aware that people make tiny cameras nowadays. It could be anywhere.
“Caleb?”
I glance behind me. “Shh.”
“What are you doing?”
“You have another hour to sleep,” I tell her, pushing books aside on the shelf. My eyes lock on to a ceramic mermaid. Lifting it, I contemplate if it’s actually heavier than it should be, or if I’ve officially gone crazy.
I look back at Margo. If she’s asleep, I’ll leave it alone.
She’s not. She’s risen on her elbow, hair a mess, and she watches me with wide eyes.
“Where did you get this?”
She tilts her head. “I don’t know.”
“Margo, it’s important.” She’s not the mermaid type. Someone must’ve given it to her.
“I don’t recognize it. Where’d you find it?”
“On your bookshelf.” I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth. Years of therapy didn’t do shit—except teach me how to breathe like a lunatic. A calm lunatic. I’m going to find this stalker and beat the living shit out of him.
She just stares at me, so I toss her the phone. She reads the single message, and her lips twist. I resume my inspection of the mermaid. I don’t know tech. But I do know that ceramic figures shouldn’t have wires coming out of the bottom.
I stuff it into my bag and cross the room, planting a kiss on her lips. “I’ll see you at school.”
Once I’m dressed, I go out the window, down the side of the house. I jog across the lawn and down the street to my car. I have a contact who can help me, but he doesn’t like to see me. Our friendship only works so long as no one knows we’re friends.
I leave the mermaid in my car, wrapped in an athletic sock, and lean against the door. He answers on the second ring.
“Bit early,
Caleb.”
“I found something weird,” I tell him. “Mind if I stop over?”
“Fine.”
I smile and hang up, knowing he’d never voice the million questions he wants to ask over the phone. I drive in silence, not even playing music. Who knows what’s inside that thing?
Finally, I pull up to a mansion at the top of a hill. The gate swings open ahead of me, and I park off to the side.
Matt Bonner, Lion’s Head’s star lacrosse player, meets me at the front door. He’s still in his sleep clothes, irritated.
“This—”
I hold up my hand, silencing him, and he waves me in. Once we’re in his room, I show him the mermaid. I don’t know if we’re dealing with audio or a camera.
He takes it from me and gets to work.
I sit on the floor by his desk, watching him.
It takes a lot not to hover, but I know he’d punch me for it.
Matt and I became friends in middle school. His parents were going through a nasty divorce, and he was put at Emery-Rose’s middle school for a year while custody agreements were sorted out. He fell in with my new group: Liam, Eli, Theo.
His dad owns a cyber security firm, and Matt either picked up the skill through genetics, osmosis, or some weird idea that he had to be good at computers to impress his dad. Who knows. Either way, it came in handy to track Margo down. How else was I supposed to find her, if not to hack into the social worker’s computer and find Margo’s file?
Eventually the divorce went through, and Matt’s dad relocated to a new house. This one, actually. Unfortunately for Matt, the closest private school was Lion’s Head.
We hype up the rivalry under a microscope, but we’re still cool. Who gives a fuck if I can’t stand his teammates or we crush them on the field?
“Just a camera,” Matt grunts. “Where’d you find this?”
“Margo’s room. How does it work?”
