Especially since she was here against her will, in the “care” of a supposed brother she’d never heard of and a backstabbing friend who’d never mentioned anything about knowing Mia’s family secrets. The whole Gabriella/Ellie thing had been bad enough. But then, to find out the woman she trusted knew more about Mia’s life than Mia—and had never said anything—really creeped her out.
If she’d had her way, she would have never gone anywhere with either Gabriella or Clayton. But thanks to loser parents who couldn’t do their jobs Mia had no rights. She had to go with people she didn’t trust.
Still, it was better than being back in the foster system under the crappiest supervision imaginable. Mrs. Duchesne, her social worker, hadn’t believed her when she confided that her foster brother had molested her. Instead the woman had suggested she “try harder” to get along with her foster family.
Mia had to start fights with everyone in the house to finally get booted out by her foster mom. And that was after her scumbag bastard son Connor had helped himself to Mia’s body on more than one occasion.
Now, throwing herself on the brown and tan quilt that covered the bed, Mia grabbed a slice of the hot pizza Clayton had brought over a few minutes ago. She wasn’t about to cut off her nose to spite her face—her social studies teacher’s favorite metaphor that the guy amazingly managed to work into a lesson at least twice a week—and not eat the pie just because her wiseass half brother delivered it. She was starving and her day had sucked donkey balls.
Flopping onto her back, Mia jammed one of the decorative mustard pillows under her head. She toed off her shoes and let them fall on the thick tan carpet below while she balanced her plate on her stomach and checked her phone.
No messages, of course. The only person who ever texted her was her mother and that was usually only to drunk-text after midnight. Although occasionally boys got ahold of her number and sent her penis pics in a quest to—what? Win her heart?
Sometimes she wondered why she bothered dating at all.
At least Connor didn’t have her number anymore. But after he’d tracked her a couple of times, she still worried he’d find her again. She hadn’t even given Nicole her contact information.
Inhaling the first slice of pizza, Mia moved on to the next and checked her school assignments. She could always claim she’d been too sick to complete them, but what else was she going to do in this mustard and brown hell? Stare at the tan walls and wonder how much time Pete had left and she got booted back into Duchesne’s hands?
She opened a document from math class and figured she’d get some problems done when her phone chimed with a text. Holding her breath, she swapped screens to read it.
So I hear I wasn’t the only one too chicken-shit to go to school today.
Mia set her pizza aside.
Boys never sent her texts that weren’t lewd photos.
Was this a girl giving her trouble?
Who is this?
she typed, wiping her fingers on a napkin when she had a hard time hitting the right keys.
Blue balls. Literally.
Davis? Mia scrambled to sit upright and scrolled to reread his first text now that she knew who sent it.
You were a no-show today?
she typed, shocked to be having a conversation with him after last night’s disaster. And had she actually left bruises? That sounded painful.
Wasn’t ready for third degree about our date. You?
Surprised, Mia took a moment to munch another bite of pizza while she thought about her reply. She wasn’t sure why he’d contacted her but…what if he didn’t hate her? The idea cheered her on a day that had gone from bad to worse with her dad and this bogus living situation.
Although the pizza was damn good. Slowly, she keyed in Same.Then hit Send.
Her phone remained silent for long minutes. She told herself to stop watching it. The conversation had ended.
He was just being friendly, maybe, to show her he didn’t hold a grudge.
But when her cell finally buzzed again, she couldn’t deny a twinge of excitement.
I thought about what you said. About bad experiences. With guys.
Thinking back, she couldn’t remember saying much, actually. She didn’t share details about that—not even with Gabriella. She’d always feared someone stepping into her life to “help” and somehow making her situation worse. Mrs. Duchesne was a perfect example. After she’d confided in that woman, only to have her honesty questioned, she didn’t trust so easily anymore.
Yeah?
