“I know.”
Reed’s voice has gone threadbare. It has become a series of gruff syllables and grunts and I fist my hands at my sides. Because for some reason I want to touch him.
I want to take his hand in mine and give it a squeeze.
But I won’t.
I can’t.
Definitely not in front of my brothers. I’ve betrayed them so many times. I can’t keep making the same mistake.
“Now, Callie tells me that you gave up soccer for her. To get her freedom. That correct?”
Reed’s bruised jaw tics for a moment or two before he replies, “Soccer was just a means to an end. And yeah, I gave that up. I’d do it again though.”
I have to part my lips at that, along with digging my nails in my palms and curling my toes.
I have to breathe through my mouth as I watch Reed standing up to Conrad like this.
For me.
“Means to an end,” Con murmurs. “Something to do with your father, I presume.”
“Yes.”
“Your father is an asshole.”
Reed throws Conrad a short nod. “Something we agree on.”
Conrad nods too. “But I don’t care about that, you understand?”
“I wouldn’t expect you to.”
“Good. Because I care about my sister.”
Another short nod. “I know.”
“Are you aware,” Conrad says and shifts on his feet, “that she’s going to quit school and get a job. An apartment. She’s also thinking of quitting ballet. So apparently, you’ve ruined her life. You’ve broken her dream, a dream she’s had since she was five.”
“Not yet.”
Conrad wasn’t expecting this answer. I wasn’t either.
“Care to explain that?”
I see Reed’s chest undulating, his nostrils flaring as he shifts on his feet. “I know you hate me. I get that. I respect that. I respect how protective you are of your siblings. How you’ve always been protective of them. I’d watch you, you know. Back then. Back when I was a kid. I’d watch how you always walked a step behind them. How you’d always keep an eye on them when you were around town. How you sometimes rode the bus with them to drop them off at school. I watched you. And then you became my coach and I saw how protective you were of your players. Of the game. The integrity of the game, of the players. I both liked and hated that about you. Especially when it interfered with my agenda. When I wanted to do things my way. When I wanted to win. Not the game. I mean, yeah the game but it was more about sticking it to my asshole father than anything else.
“So if you want to take a swing at me right now, break my bones, rearrange my face for being selfish and reckless and exactly what you always thought I was, then you’re welcome to it. But I want you to know one thing. I want you to know that I’m going to make sure her dreams are safe. I broke her heart once. But I’m not going to break her dreams too. I haven’t done much in life for other people. I’ve always been too wrapped up in my own shit. Besides, the world can go to hell, I don’t care. It’s full of crap anyway. But you and I, we can both agree on one thing at least: Your sister is one good thing in this world and I screwed her over. But I’m not going to do that anymore. I’m not going to fuck her up more than I already have.”
When I go to draw a breath, I taste salt on my lips.
I taste water. My tears. I taste my broken heart.
It doesn’t taste broken though, not really. A broken heart tastes sour and bitter. This tastes sweet, like sugar.
Like cupcakes.
Like him.
And I would’ve analyzed it more, what this means, how my broken heart can change in taste, but the guy who’s responsible for all of this isn’t done yet.
He has more declarations to make. He has more ways to make me ache for him.
“And she’s not quitting school. Not on my watch.”
It’s Monday and I’m at St. Mary’s.
It’s not that Monday though.
The Monday that I thought I was going to talk to the principal and quit school. That Monday was going to be my last day at school, but it somehow became a normal Monday.
A Monday like any other.
Meaning, I didn’t talk to the principal and I didn’t quit school.
It’s a week after that Monday and I’m still here.
I’m still going to St. Mary’s. I’m still with my friends. Whom, to be very honest, I was going to miss the most. If I had quit.
It’s the end of the day and all my girls are standing out in the courtyard at a special spot. The reason that we, or rather they have chosen this spot is because they want to look at the black metal gates that mark the entrance to the grounds.
Because they’re all watching something through those bars.
Or someone.
“All right, so don’t kill me,” Salem begins, her eyes focused on that someone, “but your guy is really hot. Like really, really.”
“He’s not my guy. Also can I tell Arrow that you said that though?” I tease her.
Blushing, she elbows my arm. “Ha. Ha. Funny.”
I chuckle.
So remember the scandal from a couple of weeks back that I said was the biggest scandal at St. Mary’s? And how we were all hoping that Arrow would come around and declare his love for Salem?
He did.
Just a few days ago actually — I’m glad I was here when she told the story — and according to Salem, it was pretty epic. And it was.
The guy wrote her a poem.
I mean, of course it was epic, and now she’s always blushing and smiling.
Like she’s doing right now.
“Stop, he’s not hot,” Poe goes, swatting Salem’s arm, her eyes fixed on that someone too.
“Are you kidding me?” Salem swats her arm back. “He totally is. Look at how that suit jacket fits him. It’s like he’s going to burst out of it at any moment. And if you focus really hard, you could actually see his abs through that shirt.”
“That’s why hot is a very tame word for him. Duh. Callie’s guy is like…” She clicks her fingers as it occurs to her. “He’s a DILF. He’s a total DILF.”
Smiling, Wyn nods. Her eyes are somehow away from her sketchbook for once. “That’s our Poe. Always so classy.”
“What, he’s going to have a baby, isn’t he? He’s Callie’s baby daddy. Of course he’s a DILF.”
“But do you really have to say that?” Wyn asks. “Do you really have to use that word?”
“Um, yes. I’m honoring him. I’m paying a compliment.” She turns to me then. “Are you sure he doesn’t have a brother?”
I shake my head at them. “Again, he’s not my guy. He’s not my anything.”
“Oh right, of course. You just happen to be having a baby together.” Poe rolls her eyes at me. “And he just happens to be waiting for you at the end of the day.”