She frowned. “We need to talk about a few things.”
Uh-oh. Did she find out about me drinking in the park? Had someone else besides Ayla seen us? Maybe the cops had been here? I’d seen them at school again, this time talking with Mitch Dillard. Had Ayla finally caved and showed someone the video?
I slid my hat off and tossed it on my dresser then took a seat at my desk, spinning my chair to face her. I sucked in a deep breath, waiting for her to berate me. “What’s up?”
“First of all, this Ayla girl. How long have you been with her?”
Oh, God. I hoped this didn’t turn into the talk. We’d had it once in fifth grade, and again in eighth grade and the summer after ninth grade. And each time it got no less awkward.
“A week or so,” I said. The chair squeaked as I leaned back in it, resting my arms across the back of my neck.
She nodded. “Look, you just need to be careful. I saw the way you were looking at her. Not to mention your little brother is probably half in love with her already. I just don’t think it’s a good idea to get too serious about someone your senior year. Look what happened with me and your dad.”
My lips tightened. So that’s what this was about? Her and Dad? “I’m not you or him. I don’t plan on sleeping with her. We’re hanging out, that’s it.”
“Hanging out can lead to other things.” She stood, pacing the floor, but as she passed me I caught the stench of alcohol on her breath.
Fuck. Not again. Every time she had a bad day, she’d drink. Weep. Start fights. I was tired of the never-ending cycle. At least when Ayla had stopped by the other day, she’d only had the beer.
“I didn’t think things would go any farther with me and your father. But I ended up pregnant my senior year. You see what that got us?” She waved her arms around at our house.
“Yesterday you seemed excited that I’d found someone, and now suddenly you’re not?”
“I also got a reality check, remembering why we’re in this situation. My having to work so much, my having to depend on your checks. It’s because I made a huge mistake in high school. Something I can’t go back and change.”
My fingers dug into my scalp. “So I’m a mistake? Dad didn’t want us and now you think you’d have been better off not having me, too?” I leaped up from my chair. “Get out of my room.” I pointed at the door. “I don’t need this shit. Not after everything I’ve been doing to help out.”
Mom’s face crumpled. “Th-that’s not what I meant. You’re not the mistake, I just…”
I flung my door open, refusing to look at her. Fuck. I needed to get out of here. Away from my family. Away from this damn town.
“Luke.” She reached for my arm, but I shook her off.
Once she’d finally left, I slammed the door shut and sank down on my bed. I still had homework to do, but no energy to do it. I pulled out my phone and scrolled through the contacts. Not that any of my friends were still up or that I wanted to confide in anyone about my shitty life.
Ayla’s name popped up first. I glared at it. If she hadn’t blackmailed me, I wouldn’t have even had the fight with my mom. Or maybe I would’ve. All I knew was that Ayla was making things so much more complicated for me. At home. At school. With my friends.
Yet earlier, I felt so different around her. Like myself. Not some fake version. My mom got the doting, good son version, who acted like it didn’t bother him to be the man of the house. My friends got the popular, partying, carefree guy. But none of those was the total truth.
Just text her.
I typed the word “hey” on the texting screen. Then deleted it. Then typed it again. Why the hell was I being such a chickenshit? Because it’s almost midnight and she’s probably in bed.
I groaned, rolled on my side. Then before I could stop myself, I hit send. For long minutes, I stared at the screen. With a sigh, I realized how stupid this was. I needed to do homework.
But then the screen lit up with her response.
Ayla: Hey back! What the hell are you still doing up?
I snorted, hearing her snide comment in my mind. Some of us had to work tonight, remember. That and I got into an argument with my mom.
Ayla: Is everything okay? Do you want to talk about it?
No, I typed.
Ayla: No you’re not okay, or no you don’t want to talk about it?
Not sure. And I wasn’t. What did I hope to get by texting her?
Ayla: So you just messaged me to say hey in the middle of the night? She put a frowny face next to it, as if she didn’t believe me.
No.
Ayla: Then you do want to talk?
I ran a hand through my hair. Was that what I wanted? To tell her all my problems? Yes.
Do you have Video Voice Pro? We could chat face-to-face on that. Unless you don’t want to. Then we can just text.
Without thinking about it, I sat up. What I really needed was to get out of here for a while. Not stare at my walls, which were covered in sports paraphernalia. Meet me at Statue Falls Park?
Ayla: Um…some of us have curfews, you know! What about you come over here? We can sit up in my tree house.
You have a tree house? I smiled, trying to picture Ayla standing in a fort.
Ayla: Yes! And it’s awesome. Or at least it was when I was like ten.
Okay. I’ll be right over.
Ayla: Whatever you do, be very quiet. If my parents catch me sneaking out, I’m dead. As in my dad will probably grab a shovel and bury me in the rose garden. Or realistically, probably you. HA-HA-HA… Do you need directions?
Yeah.
Once I read through the directions, I typed: See you soon. On my way now.
Ayla: Okay. There’s a gate next to the garage, I’ll let you in there.
I didn’t even bother changing out of my work clothes. I just grabbed my keys, leaving my unfinished homework on my dresser, and headed for the door.
My mom caught me in the hall. “Where are you going? It’s late.”
“For a drive. I’ll be back later.” Without a second glance, I hurried out to my beat-up car before she could stop me or guilt me into staying.
I followed the directions Ayla gave me and soon pulled up in front of a huge Victorian home. It wasn’t a mansion, but I could probably fit a couple of my house inside it. Burlap bags covered some of the bushes out front—protecting them from frost and the colder weather to come.
Taking a deep breath, I parked along the curb then hopped out. I sneaked across her driveway until I came to the fence. I easily found the door. Ayla swung it open for me.
She stood there in a pair of flannel pajama pants and a long-sleeved shirt. “Hey,” she said.
“Hi.” Shyness wrapped around me as I stared at her. Jeez, had she always been this pretty? Maybe this hadn’t been such a great idea. I mean, what was I even doing here? I swallowed hard, trying not to follow the curve of her neck with my eyes.
“Come on. I brought a lantern, blankets, and some snacks up there for us. You’ll have to watch your head, though. It was made for eight-year-old me.” She tugged the edge of my shirt to get me moving, then swung the gate shut behind us.
I followed a stone path to a large oak tree. “Holy shit, is this thing for real?”
There, built into the tree, was a replica of a ship. The bow part stuck out the front, and it even had a small deck. There were windows carved into the underbelly.
“Um, yeah, my dad got a little carried away after I said I wanted to be a pirate when I grew up.”
“I think your tree house is probably nicer than my actual house,” I said, following her over to a rope ladder.
“You haven’t been inside yet.” She glanced back at me as she struggled to get up the ladder.
When she got to the top of it, she shoved open a small trapdoor and boosted herself inside. I followed her.
The interior was wide enough for us to lie down, but if we tried to stand we’d have to hunch over. A small set of bunk beds was at one end; the o
ther had a table, a trunk, and several toys. At the center of it, I saw a pile of blankets, a lantern, and the food Ayla said she’d brought.
“I still come up here sometimes, but I definitely have to sit down or I don’t have enough headroom.” She laughed. “You should see the view from the deck.” She pointed to a small spiral staircase that led up.
You could tell this whole thing was built out of love for Ayla. Her dad had cared enough to make this for her, to put so much time into the small details. I didn’t even get a birthday card or a phone call from mine, let alone a tree house. But I didn’t need thoughts of my dad ruining tonight. So I pushed them away.
I stooped down and went up the stairs, shoving another trapdoor open. When we got to the upper deck, I stared out over the woods and trees. You could see the faint glow of city lights in the distance. But as I shifted my gaze upward, my breath caught in my throat. There were so many stars in the sky.
“Wow. I feel like I’m flying. Like I could reach up and touch the sky,” I said.
She smiled at me. “I know, it’s kind of surreal. I can’t tell you how many nights I used to stay up here, just staring at the sky. It’s like no matter what happened at school or with one of my friends, I could always just kind of be me here.”
I nodded. “Wish I had a place like this.”
She nudged me with her arm. “Well, if you’d like, I’ll share with you. In fact, I bet Landon would love it up here.”
My gaze met hers, and my insides warmed. Most of my friends didn’t even mention Landon, unless they were bringing up how shitty it was that I had to babysit him. Again. But was it such a great idea to be thinking of a future with her? I mean, I had to remember this was pretend. At the end of the election, she’d delete the video and I’d go back to being single and struggling with school and my home life.
“That would be awesome. Besides, I think I’d make a better captain than you,” I teased, trying not to think about how none of this was real but not wanting to be awkward.
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t get carried away or I’ll make you walk the plank.”
“You have a plank?”
“No. My dad was worried I might bring kids up here I didn’t like and he’d end up with a lawsuit. Apparently, I can be pretty bitchy when I’m mad.”
I raised an eyebrow. “No way.”
She flipped me off. “Funny. But just so you know, if I hadn’t recorded you acting like a moron, you would never have gotten to come aboard my awesome ship.”
My fingers gripped the railing. She was right. Maybe my being caught had been for a reason. Not that I was okay with this whole situation, but as long as she didn’t show anyone the video, I could deal with it. One thing was for sure—as much as I wanted to dislike Ayla Hawkins for everything, so far she was making it damn hard.
Unless this was part of her ploy—blackmail me, become friends with me, then destroy me. I couldn’t let my guard down. Even though I didn’t want my mom butting into everything, I knew how much my dad had destroyed her. And I didn’t want to chance something like that happening to me.
We were still picking up the pieces from that disaster. I didn’t need to be broken again.
Chapter Thirteen
Ayla
I’d never imagined in any lifetime that Luke Pressler would be sitting across from me in my tree house. We’d moved back inside, both wadded up in the blankets I’d brought. If my parents found out about this little rendezvous, they’d probably kill me. So I needed to keep an eye on the time and watch for Mom’s bedroom light. As long as he was gone by five, we’d be okay. Not that I planned on spending the whole night out here.
I pulled my blanket tighter to my shoulders. “So, did you want to talk?”
He glanced at me, propping himself up on his elbow. “Are you sure you want to hear all the grisly details?”
My fingers traced the wood-plank flooring. “I’m all ears.”
He sighed, sitting up. Luke grabbed a candy bar from my stash of junk food. “I’m just tired. Tired of my life. Tired of having to work so much. Tired of my dad not helping us out or seeing us. Tired of my mom, who can’t seem to keep her shit together. Tired of trying to live up to everyone’s expectations…”
I swallowed hard, watching as his face fell. He clenched his fists in his lap. “So what happened tonight?” Obviously something had set all this in motion, otherwise I don’t think he would’ve messaged me. Or maybe he hadn’t meant to.
“Well, after working a long shift, I came home to my drunk mother. She went on to tell me she thought it was a bad idea to hang out with you.”
“Ouch,” I said. “This is definitely a first. I’ve never had someone’s parent hate me before. I’m normally the one they like.” Great. I wondered if this would screw everything up.
“Don’t take it personally. She’s probably more worried that it’ll mean less hours for me to work, which means less money coming in. Shit. If it wasn’t for Landon I probably would’ve found a way to emancipate myself.”
My chest tightened. Luke’s life was totally crappy. And I wasn’t helping it any. “What about your dad?”
“Like I said the other night, he doesn’t come around. Last we saw him, I was in fourth grade. He’s moved on—has a new family. A part of me wonders what really happened with him and my mom. Either way, it ended, and he doesn’t bother seeing us.”
I didn’t even know what to say to all this. I thought Luke had it all going for him. He was the star basketball player, he was in the top five of our class, he was cute—who could not fall for him when he turned his big blue eyes on them? And apparently he wasn’t as jerky as I first thought. But most of all, I’d been totally wrong about him. He had this big heart, and the way he stared at me sometimes made me feel beautiful. The more time I spent with him, the more I wanted to be around him.
I reached across the short distance between us and caught his hand. “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have this all on your shoulders, it’s not fair. Your parents should be stepping up. It isn’t your job to raise Landon or pay the bills.”
“I know. But if I don’t take care of things, we won’t survive. My mom doesn’t make enough to cover groceries half the time. And Landon, I’m praying I can make things as normal for him as possible. I’m freaking out about going away to college next fall. Wondering if my mom will keep her head out of her ass long enough to make sure Landon will be okay.”
“Do you have any other relatives you can reach out to?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No. My grandparents on my mom’s side are dead. The ones on my dad’s side pretty much cut us out of their lives when my dad divorced my mom.”
Something inside me twisted, and my eyes welled. Damn it. Luke was going to make me cry. I wet my lips, keeping my gaze averted. “You know, you and your brother are always welcome here. In fact, my dad mentioned maybe having you guys come with us next week to watch his band.”
“Your dad’s in a band?” Luke sounded surprised.
I laughed. “Yeah. He’s in this Irish band that plays local pubs and stuff. They’re actually pretty good.”
“That’s cool. What’re they called?”
“Bollocks and Beer. I know—totally creative.”
“Actually, I kind of like it. Sounds all British or something.”
“Well, my dad’s family is originally from Ireland. Not quite Britain, but on the same side of the globe and stuff.”
“Your dad really invited us?” He watched me.
“Yes. He wants to get to know my boyfriend.” I smiled. “You’re kind of a novelty, you know, my first boyfriend—fake boyfriend or not, you’re my boyfriend nonetheless.”
We stayed up and talked until about four, at which point my eyes burned and I couldn’t stop yawning.
“I should probably head home. I have to be up in about two hours,” Luke said, but he didn’t move.
“Yeah, my mom will be up soon, and if I’m not in my bed, she’ll send out the military to f
ind me.”
He pushed to his knees and stared at me. “Look, I know I haven’t always been the greatest person at school, but I’m trying now. And tonight, you didn’t have to invite me over—but you did. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to just talk to someone, you know. Like, really talk to them. So thank you.”
“Any time. I mean it. We are a couple, you know—or at least we are for now.” I scooted closer to him, and before I could change my mind, I gave him a big hug. “If you ever need to talk or to get away for a while, message me or call. I don’t care what time it is.”
He went still for a moment, then at last he seemed to relax as he hugged me back. His palm rubbed between my shoulder blades, and my skin sizzled at his touch. His breath was hot against my cheek, and I pressed against his chest. What was I doing?
He turned his face slightly, his thumb resting beneath my chin as he tilted it up. He studied my face. “Ayla,” he whispered.
My heart hammered against my ribs. Was Luke going to kiss me? Did I want him to? Freaking out, I swallowed hard then said, “Mmm…you smell like pizza.” I snuggled closer to him and licked his cheek.
“Ew, you did not just do that.” He pulled back, laughing, and wiped at his face.
The moment was broken, but maybe that was for the best.
“I did—and for future reference, you don’t taste like pizza.”
“Anyone ever tell you, you’re crazy?” He crawled toward the trapdoor in the floor.
“Pretty much everyone that comes in contact with me. But I’m okay with that.”
We climbed out of the tree house, and when we were standing on solid ground again, he drew me into his arms and hugged me tighter. My head rested against his chest. He seemed so solid beneath me. But I knew something about Luke that no one else did. He wasn’t as okay as he pretended to be. No matter how tough and perfect he seemed on the outside, he was broken.
God. I’d wanted to hate him. To just use the video to make sure I won the election, to ensure my friends and I would have scholarships for our writing and journalism skills. However, I realized that in some strange way, Luke needed me. That he was getting under my skin. I wasn’t sure any of this was a great idea. What would happen when we broke up? Would we still be friends and talk? Did we have to break up at all? We only had a couple weeks left, and that made me sad. As I watched him pull away from my house, I knew I was in trouble.
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