hunger pains. In the middle of summer without any air-conditioning, my hair had clung to my cheeks, and sweat pooled in areas it shouldn’t have when you were sitting still.
Rider had been gone all day.
Miss Becky, during one of her rare moments of sobriety, had taken Rider to the mall with her—the nice, air-conditioned mall. Rider had been Miss Becky’s favorite. I remembered crying, because I’d wanted to go, but she had scolded me, telling me to stop acting like a baby. I’d stayed in the airless room all day, because Mr. Henry had also been home, and I hadn’t wanted to draw his attention. It was when Rider came home that night that he’d brought the doll with him.
“I felt bad,” he’d said, handing it over. He’d worn the same grin then as he did now, an odd and charming mixture of uncertainty and confidence.
What Paige had said earlier resurfaced with a vengeance.
I felt bad.
She had said that Rider had been on a guilt trip for the last four years, and now I could totally see that so clearly. It made sense. Rider had suffered in that home, but in some ways, he had been treated better than me. His guilt spurred the crazy and sometimes fatalistic need to put himself in front of Mr. Henry’s fists and me. My reappearance in his life had caused him to immediately step, once again, into the role of the protector. I felt... Suddenly, I felt gross. Like I’d been outside all day when it was muggy. I wanted to go home, strip off my clothes, burn them and then shower for days. The weight of the pity he must have felt for me and the level of guilt he’d carried was suffocating. Stupid tears burned the back of my throat.
God, this was humiliating.
I stepped back, tightening my grip on the strap of my book bag. Now was the time to have this conversation. “Do you feel guilty?”
Rider blinked. “What?”
“Have you been...on a guilt trip, because of...because of me?” I asked, forcing the words out even though it sort of hurt to do so.
His mouth moved for a moment, forming words that weren’t spoken, and then he stiffened as if someone dropped steel down his spine. “Why are you asking that?”
“Why won’t you answer it?” I returned.
“I don’t even know what kind of question that is, Mouse. Or why you would even think that.”
My brows rose. “You...really don’t?”
A moment passed and his hand tightened around his notebook. He didn’t answer, and I drew in a deep breath. “You...you told Paige about me.”
“Jesus.” Looking sideways, he hung his head. A muscle thrummed along his jaw. “Did she say this stuff to you, Mouse? For real?”
I raised a shoulder. One he didn’t see, because he wasn’t looking at me. He was watching a bright yellow Volkswagen Bug back out of a nearby parking spot. “No,” I lied. “Not really, but it... It got me thinking about things.”
“When? I haven’t seen you two talk at all.”
“I ran into her this morning.” Which was sort of true and better-sounding than saying that she was lying in wait for me.
“Mouse...”
I waited.
“I told her some of the stuff about what went down. Looking back, I probably shouldn’t have done that. Shit. I never expected you to come back or that there’d even be a chance that she would talk to you.”
I wasn’t sure how to feel about that since I didn’t ever expect to see him again, either, but the sense of betrayal was still there, brimming low in my stomach. Even in that moment I realized it was irrational. Talking to Paige didn’t make Rider disloyal to me, because there was nothing to be loyal to, but that didn’t change the festering hurt.
“I didn’t tell her everything.”
I sucked in a sharp breath. “She knew...I didn’t talk a lot.”
“That wasn’t me. I never told her that.” He turned harder eyes on me. “Last Tuesday she was over at Hector’s place and he was asking about you. I was talking to him, letting him know that you were quiet and not very talkative. She must’ve overheard me, because I never told her that directly.” There was a pause. “Did Paige say I did?”
Although it wasn’t true, I shook my head.
His shoulders rose with a deep breath and then he used his fingers to brush a strand of hair that had fallen loose throughout the day back behind my ear. A sweet tingle radiated across my cheek and then spread down my spine as he clasped his hand around the nape of my neck.
I didn’t know what to say as we stared at each other. Conflicted, I was sure that even if I didn’t have a problem using my voice, I’d still have no idea what to say in this situation.
Rider held my gaze for a moment and then, using his hand along the back of my neck, he guided me toward him. His other arm swept around my back as he pulled me in for a tight hug that was warm and solid.
He stepped back, his hand lingering. “Talk later?”
I smiled and nodded, but even though his touch had been nice and the hug even better, I couldn’t help but notice that Rider hadn’t answered my question.
Chapter 14
The second week of school was pretty much like the first one.
Well, kind of. I didn’t flee any classes. Score. Rider had texted me Monday night. Just a small text that said good-night and he’d called me Mouse. Unlike the last time, I managed not to be an utter dork and responded with my very own good-night. After Monday, Paige didn’t make any surprise visits at my locker. Score number two. Talking back to her Monday seemed to have done the trick. Score number three. She pretty much ignored me in speech class while busying herself with flirting with Rider. Monday through Thursday I’d eaten lunch at Keira’s table, and yesterday I’d actually managed to respond to a question asked of me. Not one but two! That was a score implosion.
It had come from Anna, who had held up her broken wrist and asked, “Have you ever broken a bone, Mallory?”
The spaghetti I’d been chasing around my plate had settled in my stomach as if each noodle was weighed down with lead. I’d gotten out a hoarse, “Yes.”
“Which one?” Keira asked, her dark eyes sharp.
The next two words were a little easier. “My nose.”
Luckily, no one asked how, probably because Jo’s boyfriend told us how his younger brother had broken his nose with a wiffle bat and ball, and I figured that took some talent. What I’d said during Thursday’s lunch wasn’t much, an accumulation of three words, but it was three words spoken in front of an entire tableful of people. As corny as it was, I was so...well, proud of myself that I told Carl and Rosa the moment I saw them late that night, after they got home from work.
They were proud, too.
And relieved.
There was no mistaking the quick, wordless exchange between them. I tried to not let it bother me. It wasn’t like they didn’t believe I could handle high school, but I knew they worried. I knew they were concerned that it would be too much, but I was doing it and I’d lasted longer than I had in middle school.
On Friday, Rider was hanging out by the entrance to the cafeteria, hands shoved in his pockets. Apparently, he’d decided to skip class again, and while I shouldn’t promote that behavior, I was happy to see him there. We didn’t get to chat much before speech or after, and he hadn’t made any impromptu visits. We went through the lunch line, and he grabbed what he had the first time—pizza and milk.
“Do you want to sit in here or outside?” I asked.
Rider’s lips curved up at the corner as he glanced over at Keira’s table. “Wherever you want. The world is your oyster.”
I grinned at that. I felt like if we went to the table, we wouldn’t have a chance to really talk. Plus, it had cooled down, as if summer had decided to make an early and hasty exit well before it was over. “Outside?”
No one stopped us as we headed out to the old picnic tables. Several of them were occupied, but we found an empty one. Rider sat beside me. Not across from me like some of the other students were sitting. He was close, his thigh nearly touching mine. I...I liked tha
t.
It made me super aware of him as he sat my tray in front of me. I caught each breath he took as he peeled open the milk carton and placed it on my tray, and I felt every shift on the bench as he rested his left elbow on the table.
I took a drink of my milk. “Do you get in trouble for skipping this class?”
He shrugged, causing his arm to brush against mine. I liked that, too, but I didn’t like the noncommittal answer. “Rider?”
Picking up his slice of pizza, he glanced over at me. “It doesn’t matter.”
I frowned. “Why not?”
He took a bite and once he’d chewed, he said, “I’ll pass the class in the end. So it doesn’t matter.”
Rider was smart. Even Keira had recognized that about him. As a kid, he picked up things faster than anyone else, but going to class did matter. I knew I sounded like a dork thinking that, but how did he not get in trouble? So I asked as I peeled off a piece of pepperoni.
He didn’t answer immediately. “Honestly? They don’t care.”
“Who?” I went to drop the slice of pepperoni on his plate, but he snagged it and popped it in his mouth. “The teachers?”
“Yep. I think what they expect from me is the bare minimum.” Taking a drink from his bottle of water, he grinned at me. “Like, showing up to class is enough.”
I shook my head slowly. “I don’t think that’s true.”
“The school doesn’t even call Mrs. Luna anymore. Stopped that back when...hell, when they realized I was a foster kid.” He snorted, and I couldn’t believe it. “Same with Paige and she’s not even in the system. It’s just because of where she lives. Hell, same with a lot of others. They see an address and they check out.”
Confused, I shook my head. “Your address?”
He shook his head. “Your address is the type that impresses them. Half this damn school? Hell no.” Stopping, he glanced at my plate. “You eating?”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not a child. I can...eat on my own.”
Rider raised a brow and there was no mistaking the slow slide that started at the top of my head and traveled downward. My cheeks pinked. “Trust me,” he said, his voice gruffer. Deeper. “I know that. Trying to wrap my head around it, but I know that.”
I gaped. Now I had no idea what to say.
He eyed my pizza.
Okay, then. I picked it up and took a bite. Better than sitting there staring at him like a fool.
“Anyway, I’m not in trouble,” he said, picking up a napkin and wiping his fingers off.
I thought about that as I took another bite and then dropped the pizza on the plate once more. “You don’t get in trouble, because they...” I peeled off another pepperoni and handed it over. His fingers brushed mine this time, warming my skin. “They don’t expect anything from you? Is that what you’re saying?”
Rider lifted a shoulder again, not responding.
Holy crap, that was what he was saying. Unsettled, I glanced at my half-eaten pizza. “Is that true?”
He glanced at me and his lashes lowered, shielding his eyes. “I think it’s kind of...kind of good that you even have to ask that.”
I folded my hands in my lap. “What do...you mean?”
Finishing off his pizza, he twisted at the waist and faced me. I straightened, but there was little room between us. As close as we were, I could see the golden flecks in his eyes when his lashes lifted. A small grin was on his lips, but it seemed lacking. “You’re in a good place,” he said. “Have been the last four years. You were taken in by great people. Doctors. You’re not living that other kind of life anymore.”
“But...but you said Mrs. Luna was good?” Worry rose. Had he lied?
He reached into the small space between us and tapped his forefinger off my hand. There were no paint smudges on it today. “She is. She’s great, but...look, it doesn’t matter.” His finger traced the line of the bone, skating across my palm, toward my wrist. “I’m not in trouble. I’m not going to get into trouble.”
It did matter, though, because it made me think the school didn’t think Rider was worth the trouble. Or worse yet, he didn’t think that he was. And he was. I started to tell him just that, but he turned over my hand and threaded his fingers through mine. My thoughts briefly scattered.
Rider was holding my hand.
He’d done that a lot when we were little, but it felt so very different now. So much so that I couldn’t help but stare at his hand, at how much larger it was than mine, rougher and harder.
You’re not living that other kind of life anymore.
But he was, even though I had a feeling he didn’t have to.
Knowing that I should pull my hand away, I mentally lectured myself when I didn’t. His holding my hand seemed innocent, but I doubted that Paige would see it that way. Wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t.
Rider squeezed my hand. “What do you think about the speech we’ve got to do?” he asked, changing the subject. “Your topic is the three branches of the government, right?”
I nodded. I’d told him about the deal Carl had made with Santos, and he had thought it was a great idea. Everyone probably thought it was a great idea, because no one thought I could do it anyway.
Santos wouldn’t let us pick our own topics for our first speech, which wasn’t surprising. Rider got different art styles in painting. I stared at our joined hands. “The topic...should be easy.”
“It will be.” He let go of my hand, his fingers trailing across my palm and leaving behind a wake of shivers. “You got this.”
Seeing that I had two weeks to prepare for the speech, plus a few days until I had to give mine, since I didn’t have to give it in front of the class, I thought I had this handled, too.
“You wanna practice?” he asked, picking up his water.
“Seriously?” I asked. I was planning to ask Ainsley to help me, because even giving my speech in front of Santos alone would be super difficult for me. Just thinking about it right now had my stomach churning. There had been no way I could ask Keira. I would be way too embarrassed.
Rider nodded. “Yeah. Whenever you want to get together, we can.”
My heart flip-flopped. “What about work?”
“It’s flexible.” He glanced at the plate, and I knew what he was going to say before he asked it.
“Yes,” I intervened. “I’m going to finish that.”
A grin appeared and the dimple winked. “That’s my girl.”
My breath caught, and I felt silly, but it did. I finished my slice of pizza and then downed my milk. “Will...Paige practice with us?” I asked, thinking it was a smart question considering she had to practice, too.
He nudged me with my arm, and I almost dropped the milk. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”
I looked at him sharply. “Why?”
Rider shrugged.
“I haven’t talked...to her,” I said slowly, unsure of what to say since I hadn’t told Rider everything Paige had said.
“I know,” he replied.
“You...” Then it dawned on me. My eyes narrowed. Disbelief and irritation flooded me. “You...you said something to her.”
Rider raised his brows.
“I... You can’t do that,” I said, leaning back as a soft breeze caught a strand of my hair and tossed it across my face. Rider’s eyes met mine. I’d stood up to her when she called me stupid, and I’d believed that was why she hadn’t bothered me since. I’d been wrong. “What did you say to her?”
His eyes searched mine. “I just told her that you are important to me and since I never thought I’d have you back in my life, I didn’t want anything or anyone messing with that. She understands.”
“Understands what?” I whispered.
Rider’s gaze held mine again. “She understands that if I have to pick between you two, it’s not going to be her.”
A flutter started deep in my stomach and spread into my chest, because, well, that was sort of, really sweet and nice and a little crazy, b
ut still, I didn’t want him doing this—fighting my battles. And I didn’t want him having to pick between us. “That... I don’t even know what to say. You shouldn’t have to pick between us and I...don’t need you sticking up for me anymore.”
“Really?” he murmured.
“Yes!” I all but yelled, earning a glance from the nearby table. I was surprised that I even raised my voice, but I was mad. Really mad. Here I was thinking that I, all by myself, had driven Paige off, and it hadn’t been me. “I don’t need...someone’s protection,” I said in a much lower voice.