Usually myself.
Although my medication controlled that side of things much more effectively than it did this side.
“Hey, Harleigh.” A hand touched my shoulder and I almost jumped out of my skin. “Shit, sorry,” Miles said.
“No, it’s okay. I was just…”
Celeste gave me a sympathetic smile. She was used to me checking out.
“It’s peaceful out here,” I added. “I like it.”
“That’s good, really good.” Miles rubbed his jaw. He looked so clean cut and well put together, so different to the boys I was used to. His smile was easy, warm and inviting.
I liked Miles, I did. But he also scared me. The way his eyes lingered a little too long, searching for my secrets. The things I didn’t want to share or confess.
“Have you thought about any extracurriculars this year?”
“Who, me?” I glanced at them both.
“Well, yeah. It’s senior year. College applications are looming.”
“Oh, I haven’t really thought about it.”
“But it’s college? Your future. Surely you have some plans for—”
“Miles.” Celeste shook her head again.
“Nope,” I said. “I’m taking each day as it comes. Focusing on the little things. The rest will be there when I’m ready to—”
Raucous laughter filled the air and we glanced over to find a group of kids from school goofing around with a football. One of the guys tackled one of the girls and she shrieked, trying to escape his clutches.
“I really hate those guys,” Miles muttered.
“Who are— Oh.” Marc Denby appeared, arm slung over a pretty blonde girl I’d seen around at school.
“Come on, let’s get out of here before they notice us.”
“Yeah, okay.” I didn’t want to deal with Marc again. Not here. Not with his friends in tow.
We slipped out of the park unnoticed. At least, I thought we had until a trickle of awareness went through me. Discreetly glancing back, I scanned the park, expecting Marc to be watching me. Glaring at me. But he wasn’t even looking this way, too busy feeling up the blonde.
My brows furrowed as I did another sweep of the surrounding areas. I’d felt it, a zap of trepidation that went through you when you knew you were being watched.
But there was nothing.
With a frustrated breath, I hurried after Miles and Celeste, shaking off the sensation.
Maybe you really are losing your mind, Harleigh.
After giving me a drive-by tour of the town, Celeste and Miles decided to introduce me to Strike One, Old Darling Hill’s bowling alley. Everything was bigger and better and sleeker than any bowling alley I’d ever seen. It was an old industrial unit that had been renovated and turned into a boutique establishment. Dark brown leather booths serviced each lane, giving an air of privacy. The balls weren’t the usual neon colors but muted tones of brown, black, gold, and gray. Even the pins didn’t have the usual twin rings of red around their necks but instead a thick gold and black band. A bar made from industrial grating and steel pipes lined the far wall, complete with brown leather stools that looked almost as comfortable as the Chesterfield sofas dotted around the place.
“Neat, huh?” Celeste said as I followed them toward the back of the room. Past the bowling lanes and the couches to an archway that led to another space that housed a number of retro video games, foosball, air hockey, and a couple of pool tables.
“Could be worse,” I said with a dismissive shrug.
The truth was, it was kind of cool, and maybe in another life, I would have appreciated its industrial, edgy appeal. But I was exhausted. Emotionally spent from my first day at school, of constantly keeping myself in check.
“Want to play?” Miles asked, flicking his head to the games.
“I’ll watch.”
“Suit yourself.” He handed the other cue to Celeste who grinned.
“Prepare to go down, Mulligan.”
“Oh, it’s like that, huh?”
The two of them were so freaking cute, but I wasn’t sure either of them realized what they had. People often didn’t until it was too late.
I shut down that line of thought. Going back there—to The Row, to my life before—it did me no good. Dredged up a whole lot of heartache and pain for no damn reason.
Pulling out my cell phone, I opened up a social media app and hovered over the search bar. It was a dangerous game I liked to play sometimes, toeing the line of curiosity and self-torment. I hadn’t crossed the line, not yet. But it was growing increasingly hard to resist the urge to have one little peek.
I typed his name.
PHOENIX WILDER
… and quickly deleted it.
Then I typed another name.
ZANE WASHINGTON
Biting my bottom lip, my finger hovered over the search icon. If I did this, if I opened that door, there would be no going back.
It’s just once, I tried to tell myself. But it wouldn’t be once. I didn’t need my therapist to tell me that. It would be twice a week. Once a day. Every time I picked up my cell phone. Until it became part of my routine.
My new obsession.
A dangerous addiction.
Delete.
Delete.
Delete.
I clutched my cell phone and inhaled a ragged breath.
It was only a window into their lives, their world. It wasn’t a door. I couldn’t walk through it.
“Harleigh, you want a slushie?”
I glanced up at Miles and frowned. “You’re done already?” It only felt like I’d sat down five minutes ago.
“Yeah, we’ve been playing for like twenty minutes. You were busy on your phone.”
Twenty minutes?
My stomach dipped.
“Sorry, it was a really interesting… article.”
“And here I thought you were reading one of those dirty romance books Celeste thinks I don’t know she loves so much.” A smirk traced his mouth.
“I-I do not read those types of books.” Celeste’s cheeks flamed but Miles only shrugged.
“Hey, whatever floats your boat. You know, I caught my gran reading Fifty Shades of Grey once. That was… interesting.”
“Oh my God,” Celeste breathed, fighting a grin. “That is… wow.”
“Anyway, slushies.” He clicked his fingers. “Harleigh?”
“I’m good, thanks.”
“Water? Soda? They do a mean green tea if that’s more your thing.”
“I guess I could go for a bottle of water. Thanks.”
“Celeste, the usual?”
“Of course,” she murmured, unable to look him in the eye. He disappeared and Celeste joined me on the couch.
“You know, I didn’t have you down as a smut reader.” She scowled at me, and laughter bubbled in my chest. “Relax, I’m joking. People should read whatever they like.”
“Hmm. What article were you reading?” One of her brows lifted.
“Touché.”
“Sorry, if we ambushed you into coming here.”
“It’s fine. I think I’ve gotten too used to being at the house.”
“You’re safe with us, Harleigh. I hope you know that.”