“Just you and me?”
On the one hand, I was over the moon. He liked me. But on the other hand, I didn’t know who William Cooper really was.
“Just me and you, June. Even though, knowing them, my friends will be the first in line to snoop around.”
“Remember, James isn’t very cool with me,” I specified.
“I’ll make sure he’s not in our way. I’ll take you to Tropical.”
“What’s that?” I smiled a little too wide, judging by how my cheeks were starting to hurt.
“It’s like a café, an arcade, and amusement park . . . a little bit of everything. You’ll like it.”
I was losing self-control because I was hearing snickers behind me.
“Okay, but on one condition,” I said.
A chorus of taunts and jeers sounded behind us, and suddenly I felt transported back to elementary school.
William ignored it and furrowed his blond eyebrows. He was listening to me.
“I don’t want to see them there.” I motioned to his friends, who immediately shut up.
“Just me and you, June.” William grinned at me. “It’s a date.” Then he went back to them.
“Did it really take you that long, Will? And forget that fucking bitch.” James groaned between clenched teeth. I saw William smile. A big question came to mind: Was he really into me or was he messing with me?
9
Brian
There was a hole in my bedroom wall right behind the headboard. I punched it in when I was eight because I’d just gotten a bad grade. Nobody ever bothered to plaster it over. My mom pretended not to see it so every morning I’d hit it again, always in the same place to not give Amelia a reason to worry.
My sheets were always in a heap in the morning, a battlefield on which I was forced to fight against the night. Every night I found the sheets reorganized in perfect order by Miss Maria, but I knew they’d go back to the way they were. I tapped my phone to turn off the alarm, but I was still tired. I dragged myself to the window.
A figure on the lawn came into view. Amelia was vaping. I pulled up the blinds.
“First thing in the morning? It’s 6:40, what’s your deal?”
“Chill. I only take two hits before breakfast,” she yelled from downstairs.
I’m gonna kill him. Hunter had been back for less than a week, and he had already started slinging his usual shit: prescription pills, weed, and party drugs of all kinds.
“I’m not taking you to class high. Get back inside,” I threatened. Now time for the usual morning routine—shower, boxers, shirt, pants, and jacket.
I was put together and well groomed enough to look like my mom’s son.
It was a shame that I only saw my dad’s reflection.
I went downstairs. Amelia was pouring maple syrup onto a pancake.
“She’s already in court.”
My mom was a defense attorney.
I poured some coffee as Amelia laughed at her phone.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
