Pretty Reckless

Page 69

He waltzes deeper into the room, clad in black, a teenage Lucifer out for misery and blood.

“That he was going to break up with me,” I explain. “That he was playing me?”

“No and no. All I knew was that you needed some privacy. Something you weren’t very good at giving me last night.” He arches a meaningful eyebrow.

Bitter laughter clogs my throat.

“About that. Are you screwing around with my best flyer?”

“When time permits.”

“Are you falling for my best flyer?” Esme doesn’t deserve a guy like Vaughn.

“I’ll fall in love with a pet rock first.”

“Don’t diss pet rocks. They’ll never die on you.” I sniffle.

He pulls me into a hug. A rarity I know not to take for granted when it comes to Vaughn. I bury my face in his chest and let myself crumple, feeling my bones shaking inside my body.

“You’ll be all right, Followhill.”

For the first time in a long time, I don’t believe this.

There is nothing more poetically inspiring Than loving the right person At the wrong place

At the wrong time

After practice, I visit Adriana at Lenny’s. I don’t want to be anywhere near the Followhills. I can’t look Daria in the face and dealing with my sister is out of the question. They both hover in the hallways like ghosts. Silent, pale, lifeless. Melody is on the verge of being committed. Speaking of Mel, she shoots me a text when Addy is serving me steak and green beans, clutching my bicep and telling me, “You work so hard. You’re so buff. If you ever need to unwind with someone…”

Melody: This house has rules, and I am tired of all the teenagers inside it breaking them. You are to be at home by seven every day for dinner. If you don’t have it in you to let me know you are late, you can always pack a bag and live with the Coles.

I flip the phone over. She is finally getting a backbone. Good for her. Not that I will ever reply to this shit, but still. Addy slips toward me, rubbing my arm.

“What’s going on, hon? You look like hell. Was the interview okay?”

All Saints High Saints and the Las Juntas Bulldogs both made it to the play-offs.

The entire town of Todos Santos is ecstatic. They interviewed Gus and me for the local news channels today. Both our coaches were there to make sure no fists were thrown.

“It went fine,” I say.

“What is it, then?”

I can’t tell her I broke up with Daria because that would give her ideas. I shake my head and stand. It’s time to face the Mel music anyway. I grab my varsity jacket and kiss the top of Adriana’s head. She holds on to the collar of my shirt and pulls me in, kissing my mouth. I groan and not with pleasure. She is erasing my last kiss with Daria.

Listen to yourself. You sound like a fucking maniac.

“Give me a chance,” Addy whispers against my frozen lips. “I can make it good for you. She doesn’t know you. I do. I know exactly what you need.”

“Did Via talk to you?” I ask conversationally. Addy nods.

“Don’t hate her, Penn. She just wants to see us happy. With Harper. Together.”

Later, Jaime and I arrive at the house at the same time. We meet at the front door. He is wearing a suit and a somber expression, but he tosses a stack of letters into my hands. Jaime has stepped up and, in recent weeks, began stopping by Rhett’s on his way back from work to unlock the mailbox with one of Bailey’s bobby pins and get my letters of interest.

I catch them in the air and start browsing through them, tucking my chin down so he can’t see my face. I haven’t slept well in a while.

Jaime walks over to me and slaps my back.

“Keep going,” he tells me.

Oklahoma. Texas. UCLA. Ohio State. I’m waiting for that drum in my chest that signals excitement. Those are the D1’s I’ve been waiting for all along. My eyes pause on Notre Dame’s symbol. My dream college. The one thing I worked for.

I feel nothing.

Jaime shakes my shoulder. “Hey. What’s with you?”

“Nothing,” I mumble, shoving the letters into my backpack. We’ll go through them tonight as we’ve done every night recently. It’s not like I can spend time with Daria anymore, and I’d rather get beaten to death with phone books by evangelistic widows than actually talk to my sister after the fuckery she pulled.

“Look at me,” Jaime orders. I look up, blinking at him. He is not his wife. He is full of confidence and self-assurance. I don’t screw with him.

“What’s wrong?” He frowns.

“Nothing,” I say again.

“Is this about Via?”

I shrug. As far as I can tell, he is silently tolerating my sister’s presence here. He is close enough with Daria to know how much it kills her to see my sister here.

“Is it about my daughter?”

“Which one?” I raise an eyebrow.

“The legal one, bastard.”

I smile. I don’t lie to him because I can’t. Because he deserves fucking better than that.

“We should get in. Your wife’s gonna be pissed.”

“My wife is already pissed. She has two girls she can’t control living under her roof, and she loves them both too much to give them tough love. Believe it or not, Penn, I’m on your side. That’s why I’m going to give you a valuable tip. Right here. Right now. Are you listening?”

Tip: You can use left and right keyboard keys to browse between pages.