Page 82

“I know.”

“I wanted this to work.”

“I know that too.”

The kindness in her voice cracked something open inside me. I looked away.

She touched my shoulder once, lightly. “Go figure out what you actually want.”

I flinched at the simplicity of it. What I wanted?

Alvin. The answer had been there for years. I had just kept calling it something else.

Cindy went back inside. I stayed outside. Kneeling in the dirt with my mouth tasting like camp cheeseburgers and way too many pudding cups, and my heart finally telling the truth.

I wanted Alvin. I wanted him so badly it had made me sick. And I finally understood that maybe all the disgust I’d felt over that fact had never been about him. Maybe it was about the lie I kept trying to force down everyone’s throat. Including my own.

CHAPTER 17

It had been an accident. I hadn’t meant to walk in on my own personal version of hell—the one Daddy had always warned me about. Which happened to look a lot like Dee… and Cindy. In her fucking cabin. The door swung open like they didn’t care who fucking saw them. Her hands against his chest. His hand cupping her face.

I stopped on the spot. Watching as Cindy laughed against Dee’s mouth, who I’m sure was smiling.

I turned around, unable to watch what came next. Probably him.

Truth was, I’d seen Dee fuck so many stupid women through his goddamn bedroom. I wasn’t a Peeping Tom. The fucker just didn’t know how to close his curtains. And it killed me every time.

I was done standing by and watching anymore. It was a goddamn blessing from Daddy himself that I didn’t scream, throw a rock, or stroll over there and ask Cindy whether kissing emotionally-constipated men counted as her fucking community service.

For the first time, I just walked away. Then walked faster. Then took off at a full-blown run. By the time I reached our cabin, my lungs hurt. I slammed the door behind me and leaned my back up against it. My hands shaking.

“Stupid, you stupid fucking idiot,” I whispered, not knowing if I was talking to myself or Darius. “Fucking stupid!”

I laughed once before deciding to cross the cabin and dig through my bag until my fingers found the lighter. My father’s voice came back immediately. Funny how that happened.

Years could pass. States could change. You could grow up, move away, wear skirts just to make miserable straight men uncomfortable, kiss whoever you wanted, tell yourself you were free. And yet something as little and insignificant as a lighter could drag you straight back into your childhood.

“Sin leaves a mark, Alvin.”

Daddy had believed pain taught lessons. Apparently some lessons stayed learned.

I flicked the lighter on and watched as the orange flame came to life. My hand trembled harder as I flopped back onto my pillow and stared up at the ceiling.

I hate you, Dee.

I hate you, Cindy.

I hate you, Dad.

But mostly, I hated myself for caring. For still caring. After everything.

I shut my eyes, the pain forcing me to suck in a breath. The relief came with it too, though. The distraction I needed so I wouldn’t keep picturing him with someone else. Him with her.

The door opened and I snapped the lighter shut. Darius stepped inside. He stopped, his eyes immediately flicking to my hand before slowly rising to my face. He was sweating like a pig and he couldn’t control his ragged breathing. Even now. I could only imagine why…

“What the fuck are you doing?” he grunted.

“Nothing.” I shoved the lighter down into the little slot between my mattress and the bunk frame and pointed an accusatory finger at him. “Don’t use that voice with me right now, Darius D’Angelo.”