“How can I get over it when I don’t even know what happened? None of you have given me clear answers! We’re not friends, Shay. I don’t trust you anymore. Maybe we never were friends.”
I hang up before she can respond, my hands shaking so bad I almost drop the phone.
It’s not every day I stand up for myself like that. Probably why Shay and the others thought they could mess with me like they have.
“Solana?”
I spin around. Jack’s standing in the doorway, half-hidden behind the frame, clutching an empty Capri Sun pouch.
“Jack, how long have you been?—”
“I was just coming to get another drink.” He steps fully into view, looking guilty. “I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, I swear! But then I heard you arguing and I didn’t want to interrupt and?—”
“It’s okay,” I say, forcing myself to sound calm. The last thing I need is for him to tell his mom I was having emotional breakdowns during babysitting hours.
I need this job very, very badly.
He shifts from foot to foot, studying me with probing eyes identical to his father’s. “Are you okay?”
The question catches me off guard. This ten-year-old boy is showing more concern for my wellbeing than my so-called friends have in two weeks.
It makes my heart ache in gratitude but with sadness that I’ve trusted the wrong people.
My mind goes to Silver, and how he’s the only one who seems to ever notice when I’m upset. He dropped everything and came when I called. He took me to the clinic and waited every minute I was being examined.
Not once has he judged me for any of my stupid mistakes.
It seems his son has the same instincts.
“Yeah,” I tell Jack, managing a small but genuine smile. “I’m trying to be.”
He nods solemnly, then brightens. “Want me to let you win the next race? Sometimes that makes me feel better when I’m sad.”
A surprised laugh escapes me. “You know what? I’m good. But thanks for offering.”
“Okay, but I’m still gonna crush you.” He’s rushed across the kitchen to grab a fresh Capri Sun from the fridge, already heading back to the living room. “Come on! Best three out of five, remember?”
I follow him, leaving my phone on the kitchen counter. Shay can call back all she wants. I’m done with her, with Yvette, with all of them. They showed me who they really are, and I finally believe them.
For once, the house actually feels alive on Sunday morning.
Uncle Eddie’s got his old-school music blasting—Tupac flowing into Biggie then some Wu-Tang Clan. The bass rattles my bedroom walls while he’s in his room getting ready, probably already three beers deep even though it’s not even noon yet.
Apparently there’s some club event welcoming back Thomas Cutler.
I’m sprawled on my bed with the script forMoonshine & Magnolia, running through Magnolia’s lines for what feels like the millionth time. The audition’s in three days, and I’ve got every word memorized, every pause, every emotional beat.
It’s easier to lose myself in someone else’s story than think about my own.
A knock at my door breaks my concentration.
“Ay, Sol.” Moses pokes his head in, looking more put-together than I’ve seen him in weeks. Fresh cut and new fit as he’d call it, he almost doesn’t look like a biker. “You coming with us to the club thing?”
“I’m good,” I answer, not bothering to look up from the script. “You guys have fun.”
“Come on, don’t be like that,” he says, pushing the door open wider and leaning against the frame. “Most of the guys are bringing their families. You should get out of the house for once.”
“I get out of the house. I have classes. I babysit.”
