The fact is, I’m not sure how I feel. Conflicted, yes, but that’s as far as my understanding goes. What a shame I don’t have a father who could maybe help me through it, give me the kind of talk dads are supposed to give their kids. The idea of him doing that makes me snicker to myself as Professor Morgan enters the room.
Before turning around, Wren whispers, “Does this mean you’re going to do half the work on our project now?”
“Uh, let’s not get carried away,” I whisper back. “I’m still an asshole. You’re still doing all the work, and I still expect us to get an A.”
It’s one thing to ignore the looks I’m getting from the people in class, but shit gets real when class is over and it’s time to go to the cafeteria for lunch. “I’m starving,” I tell her when she drags her feet and slows us down as we’re crossing the quad. “Can we hurry it up? Or do I need to carry you?”
She can’t hide behind her hair anymore. When she ducks her head, most of her face is still visible. Her eyes never stop moving. “Sorry if I’m not as ready to believe everybody’s going to be cool with me as you are.”
“I’m telling you. You’re with me, that’s all you need.” What is it going to take to convince her? “Now let’s go in and eat.”
All right, she has a point. We get a lot more stares in the cafeteria once people notice us together. There must be something different about us now, like body language or something. It’s like everybody knows things have changed.
I never really paid attention when people treated her like shit, mostly because that was how I wanted it to be, anyway. So long as she was miserable. Now, though, I notice the dirty looks and the way they whisper and scoff. It ends fast enough when they look at me and see how pissed I’m getting. This time, I buy her whatever she wants to eat; then the two of us go over to the table where Carter and Tucker are already sitting.
At first, they don’t say a word. It’s enough to look at me like I grew another head as I sit down across from them, and Wren sits next to me. “Okay,” I mutter, looking back and forth between their surprised faces. “Here’s how it is. Somebody’s sending her death threats, and we need to find out who it is and end this shit. She’s under my protection now.”
Some of the confusion clears, but not all. Carter looks her up and down before asking, “What kind of death threats?”
Before Wren can answer, I reply, “Threatening notes telling her she’s going to die. What, do you need more than that?” My anger is too close to the surface. I’m a heartbeat away from turning on one of the only people I feel like I can trust.
“Easy,” he mutters after exchanging a look with Tucker. “I was just asking.”
Wren taps her leg against mine before clearing her throat. Her voice is small at first, thin, but she gets stronger the more she says. “First, I got one on my car. Then somebody broke into my dorm room somehow and left me another one. They wrecked the room, too,” she adds with a sigh. I know it’s the part that stings the worst. All of her work got ruined.
“Shit.” Carter folds his arms, frowning, while Tucker whistles like he’s either impressed or surprised. “Who do you think it could be?”
“Yeah, there’s lots of people around here who—” Tucker’s mouth snaps shut when he catches me glaring at him. Sometimes, Tia looks at me that way when she knows she did something she shouldn’t have. Tucker isn’t anywhere near as cute as she is. After shifting in his chair, he asks Wren, “I’m just saying. Is there anybody around here who hates you enough to want you dead?”
“I don’t know.” Her voice is hard, and I can’t help but be proud of her when she adds, “I didn’t take a survey. You would probably know better than I would.” Tucker only shrugs, while Carter snickers.
Then he stops snickering. “Do you still have the notes? I could, like, give them to my dad. Maybe see if they have fingerprints on them?”
“I didn’t think about that,” Wren mumbles after taking a bite of her sandwich. “I was so freaked out.”
“Still, maybe he can think of something we wouldn’t think of,” I decide, and Carter nods his agreement. “It’s worth a shot.”
I can’t say I feel a lot better by the time lunch is over, and we have to go to our next classes, but it’s better than nothing. And now, they know—along with everybody else in the cafeteria at the time—to leave her the fuck alone. There’s not a doubt in my mind the rest of the school will know by the end of the day. Playtime is over.
I’m so sure of it that once we reach the door to her sociology class, I take her by the shoulders and kiss her in front of anybody passing in the hall. Her tiny squeal of surprise is muffled by my mouth, but there’s nothing to muffle the gasps and laughter around us. Some of them probably think this is another way for me to humiliate her. Just for shits and giggles, I throw in an ass grab before letting her go and continuing down the hall to psychology. Let them all wonder. All I know is, they need to leave her the hell alone—and if they know who’s been threatening her life, they better know that person is in my crosshairs.
I can’t stop thinking about it, sitting in the lecture hall, checking the time every minute or two in a countdown to when I get to leave and pick up Wren once class is over. My whole life was devoted to making her unhappy and grinding her into the dirt, and now I can’t concentrate on anything but how much I need to protect her. I think it’s what Mom would want me to do. She wouldn’t want me to punish Wren for the things Dad and her mom did. Wren is the kind of person without anybody in her life to look out for her. Mom would want me to be that person, the way I try to be for Tia.
I’m out the door almost before the professor let’s us go, marching back down the hall, ignoring the people around me. I have a goal. I have my purpose. And mypurpose leaves the classroom and smiles when she sees me waiting for her. There’s somebody besides my sister who smiles at the sight of me. Life is fucking surprising.
“You’re not in any hurry to get back to the house, are you?” I ask once she’s buckled in the truck’s passenger seat.
“Not really…” She throws me a confused look. “I mean, I do need to work on our project, but it can wait until later.”
“Good. I wanted to run an errand first.”
Her voice is heavy with suspicion when she asks, “Where to?”
“Are you nervous?” I can’t help fucking with her a little bit as we roll through town. “Is that what I’m hearing in your voice?”
“You know what? I’m not even going to pretend. Yes, I’m nervous.” I can only laugh, which makes her roll her eyes. “You wouldn’t be?”
“Wait and see.” That’s all I’ll tell her, because it’s still sort of fun to fuck with her. There are ways to do it without hurting her, though. In the end, I know she’ll be happy with what I have planned.
