He comes inside and scans the room, taking everything in. The last time he was here, it was the middle of the night and I don’t think he bothered looking around much. “Can I sit down?”
“Sure.” I point to the pink velvet chair that’s at my desk.
Making a face, he pulls it out and settles in, his mouth curving upward. “This is soft.”
“It’s velvet,” I tell him.
“And it’s comfortable. I was gonna make fun of your pink chair, but it’s pretty cool, Callahan.”
I’m not in the mood for his jokes, or the way he avoids our problems. Ignoring them doesn’t mean they don’t exist. They’re still there, and he was an asshole toward me last night. He needs to apologize.
“What do you want, Ash?” I sound short, full of impatience, because I am.
“I wanted to say I’m sorry for how I talked to you.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze intense as it locks with mine. “I was a jerk, and I shouldn’t have taken the condoms from Jake.”
“I told him. That you snuck into his room and took them,” I say, wanting him to know I’m not hiding anything. Unlike him.
He seems to hide everything.
“You told him?” Ash shakes his head, then rests his face in his hands for a moment, before he looks at me once more. “Was he pissed?”
“Furious. But then he thought it was lame, that you took the condoms. He also said if you ever sneak into his room again, he’s going to kick your ass.” I hesitate, wondering if I should tell him about the other stuff Jake said.
“I don’t blame him,” Ash says, heaving a big sigh. “I need to go apologize to him too.”
Huh. This new Ash is certainly a surprise. A good one.
“That would probably go a long way.” Or maybe not. Jake is jealous of Ash, and I don’t understand why. “He mentioned some—other stuff to me.”
“Like what?” Ash looks genuinely confused.
“Like how you sell prescription pills to people at school.” I just blurt it out, and I can tell by the look on his face that I shocked him. “Why, Ash? Why would you do that? It’s so risky. You could end up in jail if you get caught.”
He jumps to his feet and starts pacing my room, running his fingers through his hair again and again. “I was trying to stop.” He doesn’t bother denying, and deep down, I’m relieved. “That night, when I got into the fight with my mom and Don, I was so tired of doing it. At first, I started stealing them from her and selling them to my friends for a little extra money. Then Mom caught me, and realized I had a good thing going. So she used me. She said it was less risky if I was the one selling the pills, considering I’m a juvenile and I’d get less time if I got caught. They’d throw me in juvie or whatever, and it would be over. Not on my permanent record.”
I cannot believe this woman. Seriously, she is the worst mother ever.
“But I’m only a couple of months away from eighteen. Football is important to me. And I know no one really believes it, but I get decent grades. The last thing I need is to get caught selling pills to my friends. I’d lose all chances of getting into a D-1 school,” he says, pausing in his pacing to look at me. “Not like I have a chance to get in one, but I have dreams, you know? So I told her I wanted to stop. I couldn’t do it anymore. She said I didn’t have a choice. I had to keep selling. We needed that money to live, and she made me feel guilty for giving up on it. For giving up on her.”
God, I want to go to him so badly, but I remain seated on my bed, waiting for him to finish. He needs to get this story out first. And once he does, we need to figure out what to do next. My parents should know this.
They can help him.
“I left school early that day because I forgot my bag with my gear at home. I walk inside the apartment to find both Don and Mom bagging up pills for me to sell. I was pissed, because now the asshole is in on it too, you know? They were both telling me I needed to drop off a few orders before practice, and I said I didn’t have the time, which was the truth. I can’t be late. I needed to get to practice and they told me no. I didn’t have a choice. I had a job to do. We start yelling back and forth, one thing led to another and…” His voice drifts and he points at his healing face. “This is what happened.”
“So it had nothing to do with a stolen pack of cigarettes.”
“Nope.” He grimaces. “Sorry I lied. I’m always giving you shit for lying to me, Callahan, and here I am, keeping the biggest secret around.”
“Why didn’t you tell me the truth?” I ask, my voice soft, my heart breaking for him. I’m not even mad about the lie. I get it.
“Because you would’ve freaked the fuck out. I know you. I know you better than you think. You’re a good girl. You follow the rules, you have your friends, you’re a freaking cheerleader and in student council, you get good grades. Your parents love you. Everything’s clean and good in your world, and I’m not. I’m the furthest thing from that. I’m a drug-dealing piece of shit who won’t amount to anything,” he explains.
“Don’t say that.” I slide off the bed and go where he is, so I’m standing right in front of him. “You’re not a piece of shit. You just need someone to show you that you don’t have to live like that.”
He smiles, though there’s nothing warm or sweet about it. It’s almost like a baring of teeth. “You going to be the one who shows me how to live?”
“I want to be, if you’ll let me.” I lean toward him, wishing I could touch him, but I’m waiting for him to make the first move.
“You sound like your mom.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“She’s all gung ho, ready to help me, eager with her offers. And I want her help. I need her and your dad, but they don’t know about this. The drug thing.” His expression falters, and he blinks. Hard. Like he might be fighting away tears. “They won’t help me once they find out. I know they won’t.”
“They will.” Unable to resist, I grab hold of his hands and clutch them in mine. His fingers are icy cold, and I swear they’re shaking. “If you tell them what you just told me, I know they will help you. You want to change, Ash, and that’s half the battle.”
“Yeah,” he croaks, squeezing my hands in return. “Okay. Will you go with me when I tell them?”
“Of course.”
“Can we go now? I want to get this off my chest, before we go see Adney tomorrow,” he admits, his voice low. He hangs his head, studying our connected hands, and a shuddering breath leaves me. He lets go, reaching to cup my cheek, and when he lifts my face, I part my lips, waiting for his kiss.
It’s gentle. Sweet. No passion, no tongue, just pure emotion pouring from his lips to mine. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispers. “I don’t deserve any of this.”
“You do,” I reaffirm, my free hand sliding into the hair at his nape. “I’ll help you. We’ll all help you.”
“It could get ugly.” He pulls away a little. “My mom will say whatever makes herself look good. She’s a liar.”