“Aunt Hannah, I know my being here isn’t easy for you. I don’t know what you discussed with Mom and Dad—they don’t really tell me anything—but I want you to know I’m not here because my parents made me. I want to be here. I want to be anywhere but . . . there, where it all happened and everyone looks at me like I’m a monster.” Because I am . . . fuck it. I swallowed and made myself own it. “I know it’s because I am. But I’m trying not to be. I’m really, really fucking sorry for what I did, and I promise I’m not interested in causing any trouble at all. Sorry for cursing.”
She straightened her shoulders, and her expression visibly softened as she scrutinized me for a few minutes. “I believe you. I don’t know if I would’ve handled the situation like your parents did, but I’m not your parent. But then, I guess you’re not your father either . . .” She looked to the side, lost in thoughts I suspected weren’t directly related to our current situation. “Anyway, I’m sorry if I’ve been a hard-ass. I’m just still trying to figure out how to navigate this.”
“It’s OK. I don’t want you to change your life on my account. Go out, spend time with Robbie. Have him over if that’s what you used to do. Just know I won’t cause any trouble. I can take care of myself, and as soon as school is over, I’ll be out of your hair. I’ll figure something out.”
“Tell you what, I’ll stop being such a bitch and be more relaxed if you promise to come to me if you need help with something or if you’re struggling. I agreed to this for many reasons, but I do want to be here for you, Hendrix. If I can.”
I had to clear my throat around the lump that had suddenly formed there. If my parents had, even once, made me feel as supported as this virtual stranger had, maybe things would’ve turned out differently. “Deal.”
“And I don’t think you’re a monster.” My gaze flew up to hers, the emotions flying around in my chest too many to process. “I think you made a mistake—a very bad one that you have to live with for the rest of your life—but I don’t believe you intended to . . . for things to go the way they did.”
I held her gaze for a long moment, then nodded. It was all I could manage.
“Right!” She slapped the counter and literally shook the tension out of her shoulders. It was the most animated I’d ever seen her. “Good talk! Should we hug it out?” She tilted her head and gave me an awkward, questioning grin.
I chuckled. “That’s not necessary.”
“We’ll work up to it.” She waved her hand. “I’ll get a stepping stool to prepare.”
“A stepping stool?”
“Yeah. You’re way too fucking tall. I need to assert my adult dominance by gaining a height advantage.”
I let a genuine laugh bust out of my chest. “So, you’re OK with cursing then?”
She tapped her chin and squinted, then shrugged. “Yeah, fuck it. You’re an adult, and I have a potty mouth.”
“Excellent.” I grinned. This was feeling more like a nephew-aunt relationship, and a little weight lifted off my shoulders.
She left a few minutes later, and I got on with exactly what I said I’d do—homework.
My phone went off just as I started packing my books up, yawning so wide my jaw felt as if it might dislocate. I checked the message and sighed.
Heard you were in my neck of the woods. Hit me up if you need anything—even if it’s just to shoot the shit over a drink.
The number was unknown, but I knew the name at the end of the text. This had the potential for trouble—trouble I didn’t need, wasn’t interested in, and just told my aunt I was avoiding. But even I knew not letting off some steam every once in a while could result in even worse trouble.
I decided to ignore the message for now and flopped into bed. It was well past midnight, but I still had trouble falling asleep, thoughts of a certain interesting blonde keeping me tossing and turning.
Chapter Four
Hendrix
My lunch tray was yanked out from under my nose before I had a chance to pick up the silverware. It clattered to the ground, pasta puttanesca splattering everywhere as a green apple rolled away.
“Oops.” A girl with curly black hair held a hand to her mouth in mock shock, her friends snickering behind her.
Half the kids in the cafeteria froze, their full focus on the scene, just as Donna and her friends walked past.
I took a deep breath and released it through my nose. Fixing the wannabe bitch with an unimpressed look, I bent sideways to grab the sauce-covered pudding cup and—without breaking eye contact—removed the lid and licked it in a slow, deliberate move. I almost smiled at how her face slackened, her lips parting a little in shock even as she frowned in frustration at my lack of response. She was no doubt wondering what my tongue would feel like between her thighs, questioning how her brilliant plan to humiliate me had backfired so badly.
I dropped the lid onto the mess at my feet and dug into the pudding as she walked away, her shoulders tight.
Shit was escalating. In the last few days, the girls had started getting physical too. None of them dared try to shove me—they weren’t that stupid—but pushing my books off desks, throwing their trash in my direction, and other aggressive moves were getting more common.
If something didn’t change soon, I’d have to make a stand. I wasn’t interested in being anyone’s friend, but I wasn’t going to be anyone’s punching bag either. Even though I deserved it, ultimately, they didn’t know that, so was it really penance for past crimes if my tormentors’ hearts weren’t in it for the right reasons?
People buzzed around Donna’s table, laughing and joking, not paying any attention whatsoever to the rest of the cafeteria. The wannabe bitch was neither getting rewarded for her stunt with the queen bee’s attention nor being chastised for her stupidity by anyone else. This thing had taken on a life of its own. Donna wasn’t behind the continuing escalation of shitty behavior toward me, but she wasn’t doing anything to stop it either.
Only Mena and Donna’s sister, Harlow, glanced in my direction every once in a while, sitting at the end of the table in their own private chat.
My knee bounced under the table, but I made myself eat the pudding at a leisurely pace. Then I got to my feet, cleaned up the mess as best I could with napkins, and returned my tray to the staff, letting them know there was an accident and apologizing for the mess. None of these brats would bother cleaning it up, expecting “the help” to do their bidding even at school. I was one of these brats until not too long ago.
I left halfway through lunch, needing to get away from all those idiots even if it meant not getting a proper meal. The bag of chips I had stashed in my locker wouldn’t be enough, but it was better than nothing until school ended.
Footsteps echoed behind me in the mostly empty hall, and I slammed my locker shut, preparing for whatever bullshit was coming next.
Turned out it was a serving of hot fries and not bullshit. Mena came to a stop next to me and held out the steaming offering. My mouth watered. Who didn’t love hot fries?
“I noticed you didn’t really eat.” She was wearing makeup today, her birthmark invisible.