Eighteen: 18

“Liar,” he says. “Liar.” But he knows it’s not a lie. I can see it in his eyes.

“You’re not even on the birth certificate because you two weren’t married when Olivia was born.”

“You little fucking liar.”

“So maybe I’m the only family Olivia has. And maybe you’re the one who’s nobody?”

He turns around, grabs his keys and his jacket, and slams the door behind him as he leaves.

I palm my cheek as I check on Olivia. It stings, but it’s nothing like the last blow. I really do need to get out of here. And telling Jason that shit about Jill was not the best way to handle things. What if he starts believing that? What if he never comes home and I am the only one left in this world who cares about Olivia? How the fuck would I take care of an infant?

No, it was definitely not a good idea to plant that thought in his head.

A knock at the slider makes me jump.

Mateo is staring back at me from the other side of the glass. Fuck, I hope he didn’t just see that.

“Hey,” I say, opening the door. He’s holding a brown bag in his hands, looking strangely at me. “What?”

“Dinner,” he says. “Did I just hear yelling?”

“Yeah, Jason’s a dick. He was mad because apparently he thought I was supposed to be here at six so he can work his night job.”

Mateo stares at me for a second, but then he looks over his shoulder at the alley, like he’s distracted. “You said you wanted me to feed you, so… I gotta go.”

And then he walks through the gate and disappears in the alley. Fucker. What the hell am I doing with that guy anyway? In the heat of the moment it makes sense. I’m horny and I just want someone to pay attention to me. But I don’t like feeling this way afterward.

There is a part of me that wants to run back to Ohio and pretend the last year never happened, but there’s nowhere to go. I have no family there and my friends aren’t in any position to take care of me.

And Olivia. I look down at her sleeping body all snuggled up in blankets in the swing. Jason is an asshole, but he seems to love her. I should’ve shut up about Jill.

I take a bag of food inside and put it on the counter. There’s a note stapled to it, making it look like a delivery receipt. That makes me smile. I tug the piece of paper free from the staple and open it up.

Shannon,

Remind me to tell you why I have take-out containers and know how to make lasagna from scratch.

And stay the fuck away from Danny Alexander. I mean it.

M

Fucker.

But I smile. Even though he creeps me out, he does it in all the right ways. And even though he’s a teacher and he’s fucking me on the side, he’s still putting me first by making me work. And even though he wants me to do that work naked and my reward for success is sex, I can’t help but trust him.

I’ll probably regret that soon. I usually do.

Chapter Seventeen

“Hey, Daydreams!” Sunday calls from across Lincoln Avenue as I wait at the light to cross. He’s wearing a Distillers t-shirt and some faded jeans with holes in all the right places. I can see a patch of bare skin on one of his thighs.

I walk across the street smiling big at him and when I get close enough so I don’t have to shout over traffic, I say, “I know for a fact you didn’t see The Distillers in concert to get that shirt because the last time they toured the US was more than ten years ago.”

“Hey.” He laughs and beams that dangerous grin at me. Jesus, Danny Alexander is fuck hot. “You caught me. But they stopped here in Anaheim on that last tour and Phil went. I stole it from him.”

“Hmm,” I say, pretending to think this over as we walk onto campus. “I guess second-hand concert shirts still count as authentic.”

“Whew,” he says, making a big deal of wiping his brow. “I thought I lost street cred with you for a second.”

“Were you waiting for me?”

“How’d you guess?”

“Mmmm, well, usually you park your car and start your little bromance with the boys in the lot. But today you are standing at the corner where I cross the street to school.”

“It’s that obvious, huh?”

“Pretty obvious, yeah.”

“Well, it’s Thursday, so I wanted to see if that ex of yours is an ex yet. And if so, maybe we can hang out tomorrow night?”

“Ah,” I say. “He’s still around. And I’m not going anywhere. I babysit my niece on Friday nights.”

“Too bad. I know of a good party.”

“Sorry to disappoint you. And I’m not much of a party girl these days anyway. I’d just slow you down.”

“I’d slow down for you, Shannon.”

I stop to look at him, taking a deep breath as I do it. “Are you hitting on me?”

“Yeah.”

“Look, I—”

“Hey.” He stops me with hands in the air. “I’m not making a move for real until you say you’re ready, so don’t worry about that. But I’m gonna wait it out, if that’s OK with you. And I’m gonna keep asking. I have staying power, Daydreams.” And then he gives me this little salute and turns and walks off.

I stare at his ass for a few seconds before turning in the opposite direction. Damn. Why is it that I have no one interested for a whole month, then on the same day I meet two guys who want to take me for a spin? It’s not fair. Why couldn’t Danny appear after I was done with night school with Mateo?

Maybe that’s what I should do? Just get that work done as fast as possible and put night school behind me? I know I can get that science credit in a couple weeks tops. There’s only like twelve tests. I might be able to knock out most of them over the weekend. Then I’d only have trig. There’s a lot more of those tests because it’s a full year’s worth of work. But I could take two a week and be done pretty fast.

I don’t know what to do about Mateo. I just don’t think I have the power it will take to stop this now. I’m caught in a web, right? The more I struggle against him, the harder he’ll try. And the harder he tries, the weaker I’ll become.

I can see it coming.

Yeah, I need to just get the fuck out of night school. Then he won’t have anything to hold over me and I won’t have to see him anymore.

I walk into design class a few seconds after the bell rings and the teacher, Mrs. Sheridan, is handing out laptops from giant plastic tubs.

“Everyone,” she says. “Shannon”—she singles me out because I’m late—“get in line and sign out your laptop.”

I took a lot of graphic design classes, and this design class is senior level, so we’re going to make websites. I’m kind of excited about it as I sign out my laptop and take it back to my desk.

“You will be assigned a site where you can legally download images…” She goes on about all the stuff they’re providing for us in class. Each laptop is loaded with Adobe software, and we will be expected to deliver a fully functional personal website one week before the end of the semester.

“You need to come up with a domain name that is not already taken and we will register it for you. Treat this project as a resume…” she goes on.