Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 111676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
“Went for a walk and saw your light on…”
“You went for a walk…in Dayton?” Her brows lifted. “That party must have really sucked.”
She was right. I hadn’t gone for a walk. I had walked here. To her. But I would never admit that.
Searching for a change of subject, my gaze shifted over her shoulder to her bed, the sheets still made. I nodded toward it. “Having trouble sleeping?”
She followed my gaze. “Yeah. I always do when I come home.”
Because when shit is in a person’s face, it makes it harder to ignore. “I was thinking of walking over to The Lookout…”
“Oh, I see. You’ve developed a penchant for late-night Dayton strolls and getting mugged?”
I fought a smile. “If you’re worried about me getting shanked by a crackhead, maybe you should come protect me.” Like Jade would be any help.
Her teeth worked over her bottom lip for a second, indecision playing on her face. “Give me five minutes?” Then she closed the window.
Nerves bunched my gut as I headed toward the curb to wait. Not because I was nervous to be around her but because things had been weird since the hay barn. I still needed to figure out some way to explain that but had no idea how. The front door creaked open, and Jade stepped outside, her hair tied up in a messy bun. The oversized hoodie she had on—the same one she’d worn the first time I kissed her—nearly reached the bottom of her denim shorts. Seriously, the girl could make anything look hot.
When she reached the end of her drive, her gaze drifted from my face to the box of beer tucked under my arm.
“Don’t judge me,” I said.
“I’m not.”
Jade was silent as we made our way down the dimly lit street, her shoulders slightly slumped. I knew how hard it was to deal with a sick parent, the internal turmoil a person could put themselves through. The wanting to talk but not wanting to burden anyone else. But it was better to get it out than to hold it in.
Crickets silenced when we cut through Old Man’s overgrown property. “So, how is your dad?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged her hunched shoulders. “He looks worse every time I see him.”
“Do they know what’s wrong with him?”
“Apparently a stomach ulcer.” She let out a humorless laugh. “But he won’t get the tests for a real diagnosis, so who knows?”
“No insurance?”
She shook her head.
My mom had tried to do the same thing, even though Dad had okay insurance. Dad wouldn’t have it. He’d have sooner bankrupted himself than lose her. “That’s shit.”
I tried to come up with something to say as we waded through the knee-high grass but fell short. What could I say to that load of crap? It was unfair and unjust, but one thing we’d learned growing up was that was just the way of the world, especially in Dayton.
“Employers, the hospital, the bank… No one gives a fuck.”
Because the businesses were what mattered, not the people who worked for them or paid them. I’d found it was easier to get angry about that than depressed about the reality. She was scared for her dad, and she wanted someone or something to blame.
“No, they don’t.”
We crossed the dark highway that cut around the edge of the neighborhood, then headed up the dirt path that had been trampled along the hill.
Near the top, a metal barricade had been installed, a No Trespassing sign nailed to it. That hadn’t been there the last time I’d come here. Although it had been a while. After we’d broken up, I couldn’t bring myself to go up there, because over the years, it had become mine and Jade’s place.
It was at The Lookout that Jade had asked me to meet her a couple of days after that Barrington party. She’d cried, and I’d held her. The more she talked, the more the anger set in, and she decided to set Barrington High’s football field on fire. I wasn’t sure if the fact that I hadn’t tried to talk her out of it made me a good friend or not. But I think that moment of strength was what made me start to fall for her. Something shit-awful had happened to her, something she knew she’d never get justice for. So, instead of letting it break her, she torched shit.
Jade nodded toward the sign. “That’ll keep the drunk, horny teenagers out.”
Snorting, I placed the carton of beer on the other side of the barricade, then climbed over the metal bar and turned to grab her hand.
She stared at me like I’d lost my mind.
“I’m not saying you aren’t a strong, independent woman, but you’re short, Jade.”
“I’m not.” She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re just massive. Like some giant.”
“Do you want this to be like the time you thought you could climb over that barricade on University Street?” Even in the dark, I could see her cheeks redden.