by Gia Riley
“What’s your name?”
“Melody,” she whispered. “Where are you from?”
“Carillon,” I told her. “I’m a senior.”
Her giggle was sweet, and it made me want to kiss her again.
“I have to go, Melody.”
“Wait.” She snatched my hand and said, “Don’t you want my number?”
I did the only thing I could think of. The only thing that would save me from admitting I might want to talk to her again. I told her, “I have a girlfriend.”
The disgust I expected didn’t follow.
She didn’t believe me. Instead, she said, “What’s your name?”
There was no reason to lie; it wasn’t like a first name could do much damage. So, I told her the truth. “Jasper.”
“If you want to kiss me again, Jasper, come here next week. Same time.”
The offer was tempting, but I wouldn’t show. I couldn’t. Because I was still in love with Winnie.
Eighteen
Winnie
Raven’s her usual moody self in the kitchen the next morning. She and Matty have the stools at the island pushed out far enough that they’re blocking the cereal.
“Don’t be a bitch,” I tell her. “Let me through.”
Even though I called her a bitch, I’m not even mad. Not after last night. My head’s still spinning about Jasper kissing Melody and then my time with Trey. I can’t decide whether to be excited, annoyed, upset, sad, or just plain confused. My head and heart are usually on the same page. Right now, they’re running in opposite directions for different reasons.
“You think you’re safe because you’re new,” Raven tells me.
“I don’t think that at all. But I also didn’t do anything to make you hate me.”
“She doesn’t hate you,” Matty says. “Neither of us hates anyone in this house.”
They sure do make it hard to believe that when they come out, balls blazing, first thing in the morning.
“Well, as soon as I eat, you won’t have to look at me for the rest of the day.”
“Thank God,” Raven mutters under her breath. “Though I would like to watch the show later.”
“What show?” I question.
“Let’s just say, you might want to rethink all those fuck sessions you’ve been enjoying.”
My heart races, and the little hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I forget about breakfast and run out of the kitchen and up to my room like my life depends on it. Maybe it does. If Cindy or anyone in this house finds out about Trey, he’ll go to jail. His life will be over because of me.
I think back to the cars that we passed and try to remember if any of the neighbors saw me get off the back of Trey’s bike. It’s all a blur though. I was so caught up in the moment and the feel of his back against my chest, I didn’t pay attention to the details.
Still, I check my phone, expecting a slew of texts from Trey. I assume nothing is a good sign and then focus on Jasper. He wouldn’t tell on me. There’s no way. But then I think about his kiss with Melody. That kiss was so out of character for him. I start to wonder if he did it out of guilt or jealousy.
Would he turn me in for the simple fact that I want Trey more than I want him?
The thought alone makes my stomach ache.
Not Jasper, I tell myself. He’s not like that.
Breathe, Winnie. Raven and Matty only think they know something. Trey and I are the only ones who know the truth.
Cindy raps her knuckles on my door once, and I chuck the phone in my bag.
“Time for breakfast, Winnie. You’ll be late.”
I don’t bother telling her I was already downstairs. I just stand up and make it seem like this will be the first time I’ve been downstairs today.
Raven’s grinning like she cracked the code to world peace while Matty seems disinterested. Waiting for her to rat me out to Cindy, I bite my lip and will the tears to stay locked up. I’ve been through worse. Anything Raven throws at me, I can handle.
Except losing Trey.
Dray steals the empty bowl from in front of me, giving me a worried yet friendly smile.
I can’t tell if he knows or not, so I whisper to Raven, “Did you tell Dray?”
“Um, I think he already knows.”
“What do I know?” Dray asks.
Before Raven can answer, Cindy and Doug walk hand in hand into the kitchen. They’ve never done that before, and alarm bells go off. Considering I’m the only nervous one in the room, I know their joined forces have to do with me. They found out. What I can’t figure out is how Raven knew. She doesn’t go to school with me or Jasper. Dray barely talks to her, and when he does have a conversation with her, Matty’s always around.
“Winnie and Dray, can we see you in the office, please?” Doug says with his usual straight face and authority.
This is so bad.
Dray sucks down the rest of the milk in his bowl and places it in the dishwasher. He doesn’t look as upset or nervous as he did yesterday when he was hiding out in his room. He’s just kind of nonchalant about the whole thing. And that makes me assume he’s the one who ratted me out. He doesn’t know about Trey, but he knew I was doing something I wasn’t supposed to be doing. I’m so stupid to have trusted him to cover for me.
“How could you, Dray?”
“What?” he says.
“I asked you to cover for me one time, and you went and told Raven and Cindy. Did you tell them about the nightmare, too?”
Dray looks like I slapped him. “I’d never say a word about any of that, Winnie. What we tell each other stays between us.”
“Why should I believe that?” I ask.
“Because it’s the truth. You’re the only friend I have here. Up until you came, I was flying solo.”
“Then, what’s this meeting about? Raven’s super proud of herself for something.”
I might have threatened to tell Cindy and Doug about her laundry-room sex, but I only said it to show Raven that she couldn’t walk all over me. I learned early in life that, if you reveal the enemy’s weakness first, you take away their power. So, that’s what I did.
“If it came out of Raven’s mouth, it’s a lie. Let me do the talking until we know what we’re up against, okay?”
Nodding, I take a seat in the armchair by the window. Dray sits beside me, and Doug and Cindy sit behind the desk.
Cindy’s the gentle one. She doesn’t baby us, but she understands the complicated lives we were uprooted from when we came here. She doesn’t treat us like projects the way Doug does. He’s the disciplinarian, the one who handles the present while his wife helps us through our pasts.
Doug clears his throat, and without a second of hesitation, he says, “It’s been brought to our attention that the two of you have been engaging in some inappropriate late-night activities.”
“We haven’t snuck out. You do bed checks. We’re always in them,” Dray says.
“We do bed checks before we fall asleep, yes. But we’ve been led to believe it’s after that time frame.”
“What is?” I ask.
Dray told me to let him do the talking, but the less I say, the guiltier I’ll look.
Cindy stands and walks around the desk. She perches on the corner and looks back and forth between the two of us. “You do make a lovely couple.”
“A what?” Dray asks.
“I do think you’d be good for each other, but we can’t allow sexual intercourse between housemates. You’re both underage, and though you’ll be eighteen soon, we still can’t allow it. The agreements you both signed when you agreed to come here spelled this out in very easy-to-understand terminology. If you’d like me to go into further detail, I can, but we need you to stay in your own rooms at night and sleep separately. If you can’t do this, you’ll have to be reassigned.”
Everything before the last word is forgotten when I hear reassigned. “You’re getting rid of us?”
“No! Of course not,” Cindy say
s. “Consider this a warning that the behavior needs to change.”
Dray stands up and looks out the window. I wait for him to set the record straight that we’ve never touched, kissed, or had sex. The longer he takes, the more I want to smack him in the back of the head with my shoe.
“I can’t lose this placement,” I tell Cindy and Doug. “Nobody else will take me because of my age. I haven’t done anything wrong.”
They don’t believe me. Why would they? I’m just some orphan girl who numbs her pain by hurting herself. A girl who’s been through the worst life can offer and keeps on going. Maybe life wants me to give up. Why else would it keep throwing the worst at me?
Life is the devil. Sooner or later, it’s going to win.
“Winnie, we aren’t placing you anywhere else. This is your home. All we ask is that the relationship between you and Dray end.”
“No,” Dray says. “She’s all I’ve got.”
My neck turns so fast, I get dizzy. “Dray, we didn’t have sex. Tell them that!”
“It doesn’t matter. They won’t believe us either way. You’re my best friend in the house. It looks bad, no matter what.” He turns around, and his arms hang lifelessly by his sides.
Whatever he went through last night is still weighing heavily on him. That much, I can see. But I have no idea what he’s going to say next.
“We didn’t do it,” I tell Cindy again.
Throwing Raven and Matty under the bus is the only thing that could save us right now. But Dray’s right; why would they believe anything we said? Outing them would only make my time here worse. I can either let Raven have her moment of victory and take the blame or I can make her hate me more.
Try the truth, Winnie.
After a quick glance at Dray, I just want him to feel better. He probably got bad news about his dad last night, and now, he’s getting accused of something he didn’t do.
“Dray was in my room last night. I had a nightmare, and he got me out of it. It wasn’t pretty—it never is—but I’m glad he came in. Because, without him, I would have woken up on the floor, all alone, thinking I got shot again.”
“Winnie was in my room, too. After the conversation with you guys about my dad, I lost my shit. I buried my head in my pillow and debated on running. If Winnie hadn’t come in when she did, I might have taken off. She’s right; we didn’t have sex. I’ve never touched her, and I won’t. Because I need her more than I want her.”
Cindy brushes a tear from her cheek and grabs a tissue from the box. Dray walks over to me and pulls me off the chair. Then, he wraps his arms around my neck and squeezes me so hard, my breath gets caught in my throat.
“Thank you,” he whispers so that only I can hear. “You saved me from myself.”
Nineteen
Trey
“Sit down, Trey. We need to talk.” The boss is pissed when he slides a stack of papers across the desk.
The figures are low, and there have been way too many missed drops this month. Every miss means a face who knows the name and the people working under it. Around here, that’s how people go missing.
I should care that the business is on a decline, and normally, I’d work twice as many hours until I whipped the boys back into shape, all to make the man across from me proud. But I’m not the same young kid who came to him years ago, looking for approval. I’m a grown-ass man who wants to live life without answering to a higher power.
Knowing I can’t walk away, I take my place across from him. I’ve sat here enough times to know that he’ll tell me what he wants, and I’ll make it happen. I’ve never disagreed.
“You’re taking out Jax tonight,” he says.
“Why Jax? He’s out on bail, but he’ll be serving time soon.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he says. “There’s too much of my product floating around The Whip and the trailer park and not enough money in my pocket.”
I’m not touching Jax. After what he did to Winnie all these years, I want him rotting in a cell. I know enough guys who are locked up. They’ll beat his ass every day if I want them to, all for a shot at coming back to the business once they’re free. A sentence and prison time are parts of the job, and you never stop working.
Today, I have to go against him. And it’s entirely personal. “It’s not the right move, boss. We can do better.”
“There’s no we, Trey,” he reminds me.
He’s right. This is his business. His money. And all the more reason I need out.
“Fine, but not tonight. I want to make sure nobody gets caught up in it. We can’t afford a mistake or more missed drops.”
I make it about the business, but the real reason I won’t have anyone touch Jax tonight is because I want to make sure Winnie’s nowhere near The Whip or the trailer park. And, if I tell her not to come see me after school, she won’t understand. She’ll think I’ve changed my mind and that I’m rejecting her. She’ll be so hurt, she’ll come anyway, walking right into the path of another bullet.
I can’t risk it.
I’ve already watched her fight for her life once.
“Fine. I trust you, Trey.”
Trust. I fucking hate that word.
“I’ll make it happen; don’t worry.”
“Good, because if you don’t, you’ll be the one who owes me the money.”
“I don’t have that kind of cash.”
Nobody does, except him.
He tosses back the brandy in his glass and then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Then, you’ll be next to die. The choice is yours.”
Twenty
Winnie
School’s about as exciting as watching paint dry. Dray’s been quiet all day. Since he insists on sitting behind me in every class, he usually pokes me in the back all day long, laughing every time I turn around and yell at him. Eventually, we’re told to settle down, or we’ll be separated.
I don’t think I’d actually get moved though. None of the teachers have ever seen me with a friend, let alone someone as socially powerful as Dray. I’m the bottom of the food chain in this school, and I think they’re just glad I’m starting to fit in a little bit.
But, today, Dray hasn’t touched me once. Not since the hug this morning in Cindy and Doug’s office. Other than a couple of thank-yous as I passed papers back down the row, you’d never know Dray and I ever spoke.
It’s weird. Weird to the point that I actually miss the annoying pokes and sarcastic banter.
I can’t figure out why he was willing to take the blame for the sex we never had. It doesn’t make sense. Why would he want a target from Cindy and Doug on his back? Having a strike against you at Sunshine Place is the equivalent of being on probation. One wrong move in the future or another false accusation from someone in the house, and we’re out the door.
I can’t speak for Dray, but I can’t afford for that to happen. I got lucky with staying so close to the trailer park, in the same school, and with a life I can stand. The chances of that happening a second time are slim to none. That’s why I need to figure out why Dray didn’t fight back against the accusations. Why is he okay with Raven and Matty walking all over us? They’re the ones in the wrong, not us.
By the time lunch rolls around, I’ve created a million different scenarios in my head about what could have happened to Dray to put him in this funk. Everything from his dad leaving rehab to giving up custody has crossed my mind. Both would destroy Dray, and last night, he looked devastated.
It bothers me so much, I skip meeting Jasper at the locker room and go straight to the cafeteria. He’ll understand that I had to talk to Dray even if he doesn’t like it.
I get as close as the band lunch table before I spot Dray joining the popular crowd at their lunch table in the center of the cafeteria. He, along with everyone else, is oblivious that I’m even in the room.
When he sits down, his friends yell, “Alex!” like he’s a god.
And, just like that, he’s back to being a legend, going by
a name he can’t stand.
The pain in his eyes gets overshadowed by the fake smile on his face. None of them see the real Alex or know the heart hidden beneath his expensive clothes. Dray’s become a master at hiding his emotions. You’d never know he’s living a double life, pretending to be someone he’s not.
I’ve never done much pretending. What I feel is etched into my skin. Years of pain and heartache bleed from my cuts, and no matter how many scabs form to level out the regret, another always follows.
I’ll never fit in with any of these people. I’ll always be the girl from the wrong side of the tracks, my story so daunting that they don’t even try to process it. But that’s my fault, too. I’ve never spoken about my life, and if I can make it through a day without being noticed, I’m happy. Dray’s the exact opposite of that. He couldn’t blend in if he tried because a personality that big can’t be tamed, controlled, or kept a secret.
I just wish he’d open up to someone in his group who could actually help him. Someone the exact opposite of me who’d make him see his worth and convince him to own who he is. Someone who’d tell him to be Dray instead of Alex.
Jasper never makes it to our usual spot at the corner table. And, when I get tired of watching Dray, I take a walk outside and end up finding Jasper on a bench, sitting alone, staring at the ground. He doesn’t lift his head until he sees the tips of my shoes in front of him.
“What are you doing out here?”
“Thinking,” he says.
“About?”
“You.”
The butterflies I save for Trey get loose, and I have to look away from Jasper when I say, “What about me?”
“Sit down, Winnie.” His usual playful tone is gone. The one that makes me laugh until my stomach muscles ache.
Serious Jasper makes my hands shake and my legs weak. Not in a good way either. Even sitting next to him makes me anxious.
He clears his throat and angles his body, so he’s facing me. I wish he wouldn’t look at me at all.
“I did something stupid last night, Winnie.”
“Like what?” The kiss.