“I hate it here.”
He chuckles. “At least we have something in common.”
I look up at him. “You only have a year left, right? You’re a senior?”
“Yeah.”
“Then what?”
“College. Hoping to play ball at USC.”
“Why USC? You’d be in LA with your dad.”
“I wouldn’t live with him. I wouldn’t even have to see him.”
“I thought you’d want to get farther away.”
“You just met me. You don’t know anything about me.” His eyes meet mine across the hot tub. “Don’t think this little talk right now makes us friends.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah. I know you hate me, Braden. You’ve made that perfectly clear.”
“I don’t hate you. I just don’t want you here.”
“That makes two of us. Believe me, this is the last place I want to be.” My eyes lower to the swirling water. “I never thought this would happen.”
“Shit,” I hear him say. “You’re not gonna start crying, are you?”
I shake my head.
“Hey.”
I look up and see Braden sitting beside me.
“Sorry about your mom.” He sounds sincere. I didn’t think he was capable of being nice, but maybe he can be in small doses. “It was what, a few months ago?”
“A few weeks,” I mutter.
“Really?”
I nod, afraid that if I talk about it, I’ll start crying after just telling Braden I wouldn’t.
“I thought it was longer than that,” he says. “You in counseling?”
“No,” I whisper.
“I’d try to avoid it if I were you. Counselors just make shit worse.”
I turn to face him. “You’ve been?”
“They made us. Trystan and me. After the divorce. It was part of the agreement.”
“Why?”
He shrugs. “Judges think it’ll fix everything. Make some kid sit in a room and talk about his feelings and he’ll forget about his parents splitting up.”
“So it didn’t help?”
“Made it worse. I wanted to go punch something, not sit in a room and talk.”
