Page 16 of Hard to Score

And even worse or weirder or whatever you want to call it, I’m confused on why I want to so badly.

He watches me silently as I grab my purse and slide the strap over my shoulder. “I’ll walk you out,” he says.

“No need. I can manage on my own.” I offer him a smile that I don’t think reaches my eyes and head for the door.

“Brex. Wait,” he says just as my hand reaches the handle. When I turn to face him, I’m surprised to see him so close to me. “Thank you for stopping by. I had a good time catching up. I apologize for this.” He waves his hand in the space between us. “Maggs is Maggs. I need to stop hoping she’ll somehow be different so that I stop being disappointed when she isn’t.”

I don’t understand what he’s talking about, but I smile and nod. “The only person you can control in life is yourself, Drew. You know that.”

“I do, but it doesn’t make it any easier.”

“I know, and I’m sorry.” I reach out and squeeze his hand. “Thank you again.”

“Maybe we could do this again sometime. Finding friends who knew me when are few and far between most days.”

I nod, trying to not be miffed by the friend comment, and smile softly. “I’d like that.”

And I would. There’s something about him that makes me remember how easy life used to be before adulthood happened.

“’Night, Bratty Brex.”

“Good night, Dreadful Drew.”

This time when I walk away, he lets me.

But after I climb in my car and glance back at his house, he’s still standing there in his doorway watching me.

I wave and drive away with a crush that has been rekindled. And that’s all it can remain. My heart has been hurt so many times before that I wish it were more jaded, because there is comfort in spending time with a friend who knew you when.

CHAPTER SEVEN

DREW

“YOU REALLY SHOULD KEEP YOUR front door locked,” I warn as I stride into my parent’s house irritated at how my evening has turned.

“Drew. Oh.” My mom claps her hands in front of her where she stands in the kitchen when she catches sight of me. “You paid us a visit.”

“Anyone can walk right in here.” I walk toward her and press a kiss to her cheek, noticing and grateful my father is nowhere in sight. “We live in a good neighbor—” But when her eyes meet mine her words fade. “Drew?”

“She’s using again.”

Her sigh is as audible as the shake of her head is resigned. But it’s her eyes widening that tells me she gets my gist. That she understands that Maggie might come by only to steal something to feed her habit.

Some things are like clockwork in this family and that’s one of those things.

“How do you know?” Ever the mother, she shakes her head as if she rejects what I’m saying. Maggie could never do wrong in her eyes and even all these years later, it’s still hard for her to see otherwise.

But I looked like him. I played the same sport. It was much easier for her to shift blame on me.

“She came to my house asking for money.”

“I see,” she says quietly. “And you did what?”

“I told her no. I told her—”

“But, Drew, what is she going to do to get money?” Desperation and fear are woven into every thread of her voice.

I bite back my sharp rebuke, knowing it won’t do any good. “I don’t know, Mom. The same thing she does every other time she needs it. I pay for her home and her utilities. It’s not my job to feed her habit, and I’d hope if she showed up here, you’d feel the same way.”