Page 45 of Don't Try Me


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"You don't have to be sorry. It's something Ishouldthink about. I just don't want to."

"You could still go to college."

"I don't have the grades. Or the money."

"I could help you with the grades. I mean, if you want help."

"Jacob needs it more than me. He's not an athlete. His grades are his only chance at a scholarship."

"I could help you both."

"I can't afford it. Oh, speaking of that." He reaches in his pocket and takes out a ten dollar bill and hands it to me.

"Thanks." I take it, but feel like I shouldn't. I'm broke, but I think Dean needs the money more than me. "Do you have a job?"

"Not right now. I did during the summer. I was hoping I could get by without one so I could focus on school and football and be home more for Jake but I think I'll have to start looking."

"Here." I hand him the ten. "Why don't you keep this until you get a job?"

"It's yours. You did the work and I paid you."

"Yeah, but you're raising Jake all by yourself and—"

"And I do just fine. Don't go feeling sorry for me. I hate that shit." He gets up. "You should probably go."

"Do I have to?" I look up at him, wishing I hadn't upset him. I didn't mean to. I just felt bad for taking his money.

"You want to stay here?" he asks like I've lost my mind.

"Just for a little longer. If that's okay."

"I guess, but why would you want to stay?"

"My mom has to work late and I don't feel like going home to an empty apartment."

"So you'd rather stay here," he says, confirming what I said. "In a shitty house with the guy you hate and his annoying little brother."

"Your brother's not annoying. And I don't..." I pause. "Hate you. We just got off to a bad start."

He stares at me, like he can't tell if I'm joking or being serious.

"As for the house," I say, "this is pretty much what I expected for two guys."

Actually, it's worse than I thought it'd be but it's an old house and the damage could've been from whoever owned it before. It's at least picked up and it looks like Dean vacuumed. I can see the marks in the carpet.

Dean leans back, laughing a little. "I gotta tell you, Brook, you're not the girl I thought you were."

"What do you mean?"

"Rich girl from the suburbs. I thought just walking in here would be enough to scare you away."

"The apartment I live in with my mom isn't much better. It doesn't have holes in the wall but it's old and dated and smells like it used to be home to a hundred cats."

He smiles. "A hundred? Really?"

"Okay, maybe not a hundred but something close to that."

"My grandma used to have a dog. She didn't stink up the place but she chewed up the furniture." He points to the legs on the coffee table. "You can still see the chew marks."