“Don’t you ever fucking touch her again!” the boy yelled.
The disheveled man used the back of his hand to wipe his mouth and slurred, “I should gut you both. No wonder your mom left you ungrateful pieces of shit. You ruined my whole fucking life.” His fist sailed through the air, landing hard against her brother's face.
I gasped and slapped a hand over my mouth as he fell back against the house and sank to his butt.
The man once again advanced, but Nora jumped between them, crouching low like a lion ready to attack. “Dad, no!”
Holy shit. That was her dad?
A blast of panic hit me, stealing my breath all over again. I had no idea what to do. If her brother, who was twice my size, couldn’t take this guy, I would have been next to worthless.
I could get help though. Surely someone else must have heard the chaos. Frantic, I spun in a circle. Multiple porch lights were on, but my hopes fell when I saw bent blinds with shadowy figures lurking behind them. Bile crawled up the back of my throat. People were just watching like this was some kind of sport.
By the time I turned back around, her brother was on his feet again, his murderous gaze locked on his father.
“Get to Thea’s,” he barked at Nora.
She tugged on his arm. “No. Please, Ramsey. Come with me. It’s not worth it. He’s not worth it. Please. Please. Please!” she screamed through her tears. “Daddy, go away! Leave him alone!”
Hearing her call that monster “daddy” felt like the tip of a dagger raking down my spine.
He slurred something I couldn’t quite make out and then spit at them before finally stumbling to a beat-up truck. After he climbed inside, it rumbled to life like a fork in a garbage disposal.
I couldn’t see Nora’s face, but I didn’t take another breath until his taillights disappeared around the corner.
As soon as he was gone, the door a few houses down swung open and a girl with flowing, brown hair, darker than Nora’s, came running out barefoot. “Ramsey!”
“Shit,” he mumbled before calling back, “I’m okay.” He pulled Nora into his side and hugged her tight. “We’re both okay.”
The girl stopped in front of him and pressed up onto her toes to check his bleeding nose. “I hate that man!”
“Me too, Sparrow. Me too.” Ramsey laughed. Like a real honest-to-God chuckle. And if I hadn’t already been stunned into silence by what I’d just witnessed, I would have been shocked that he could still remember how to laugh after an actual fistfight with his dad.
Nora stepped out of her brother’s arms and wiped the tears from under her eyes. “I got you some gum.”
He had blood smeared across his face, but his grin was massive as he peered down at her. “How did you know I was on my last piece?”
“You’re always on your last piece,” the girl he’d called Sparrow smarted.
Nora giggled. And just like her brother’s laugh, it was so real that it transformed my stunned silence into outright, mouth-gaping confusion.
Who the heck were these kids? I was still shaking, and I hadn’t even been involved in the fight. Sure, my dad yelled at me, but he’d never hauled off and punched me. Or pushed me. Or spit on me. Or told me I’d ruined his life. Jesus Christ, what kind of dad did that to their kids?
I couldn’t even begin to wrap my mind around how I’d ever smile again after something like that.
But Nora did.
Guilt slapped me like a cold wind in the middle of winter. I’d treated her like a jerk at the creek, simply because I’d been mad that I had to spend the summer with my grandparents. My grandparents who had never once put their hands on me. Who supplied me three home-cooked meals a day, and every now and again, my grandma would sneak me an ice cream sandwich.
Jesus, I really was Freaking Camden Cole.
They walked inside together, and in an act only slightly creepier than following her home, I sat in the edge of woods and stared at her front door for a long while. I wanted to help, but I had no idea how. Before she’d blown up on me, I’d been planning to let her in on my worm scheme. That would at least put some money in her pocket. But if her mom was gone like her dad had said, she needed more than just a few bucks a day.
I debated telling my grandparents, but they really enjoyed turning a blind eye even within their own family. I couldn’t imagine they’d leap into action for a stranger.
I could call my mom. She might have been willing to make a phone call if she thought kids were in danger. But would Nora want that? Once alarm bells were sounded with the police, it was hard to silence them. And what’s to say the cops would have done anything anyway?
By the time I left that night, her dad still hadn’t come home. Her brother and the Sparrow girl were sitting on the porch, holding hands, and talking, but Nora was nowhere to be seen. She’d appeared all fine and dandy when she’d gone inside, two grocery bags still wrapped around her wrists, but I had a sneaking suspicion she wouldn’t be getting any sleep that night.
God knew I wouldn’t be.
Ramsey woke me up just before eight to see if I wanted to spend the day with him—and, of course, Thea. Our dad had miraculously made it home overnight, and my brother flat-out refused to leave me with him after the way things had gone down the night before.
It wasn’t all that shocking, to be honest. My dad and Ramsey’s brawling was pretty much business as usual.
We didn’t talk about it.
There were no words left to say.
It was horrible and awful and wrong on so many levels.
But that inescapable hell was our life.
I hated that Ramsey had to worry about me so much.
But most of all, I hated that I needed him to.
While I washed my face and brushed my teeth, I filled him in on my newfound job at Mr. Leonard’s. He laughed his butt off when he learned I was collecting worms all day.
I strategically didn’t mention Freaking Camden Cole. My spending the day with a boy he didn’t know would have no doubt led to a million questions—none of which I had the answer to. Besides, after the way we’d left things, I wasn’t even sure if Camden would show up again.
When Ramsey and I got to the kitchen to make breakfast, we found the bread left open and stale, the ham sitting on the counter for who knew how long, and my father passed out in his recliner, a half-eaten sandwich sitting on his chest.
It was only four dollars’ worth of food, but the devastation of seeing it wasted was staggering.
It didn’t matter how often he’d done it to us; it felt like a betrayal each and every time. Tears welled in my eyes, but I held it together, knowing Ramsey was beside me. It wasn’t his fault, but he’d still spend the day feeling guilty if he knew I was upset.
While he made promises to bring home dinner that night, I slapped on a smile and toasted two pieces of the stale bread, smearing the last bit of peanut butter on them before passing one his way.
It was just another morning in the Stewart household.
Camden wasn’t at the creek when I arrived, and the wave of disappointment that washed over me was startling even to myself. With a fresh set of patience, a boatload of guilt, and a set of piercing blue eyes on my brain, I realized I had no right to be mad at Camden. If the roles were reversed, I wouldn’t have told him where I’d found my secret stash of a million worms, either. After all, I was his competition.
Mr. Leonard’s feud with Old Man Lewis wouldn’t last forever. But until it ended, Camden and I would be spending every day across the creek from each other. Having someone to talk to might make that miserable job slightly less horrible.
While I pondered the least humiliating way to apologize to Camden, a beetle big enough to have been related to squirrels ambushed me from the side. A scream tore from my throat, so loud that the echo off the trees alone was enough to deafen anyone in a five-mile radius.
Ducking and weaving, I ran to the edge of the water and frantically unwound my hair. I’d learned my lesson
the day before about forgetting a ponytail holder and put my hair in a braid that morning. A freaking braid my attacker had gotten its gag-inducing feet tangled in, and now, I was seconds away from peeling out of my skin and living the rest of my life as a skeleton.
“Get off me!” I shouted, violently slapping at my hair. My panic skyrocketed when I heard the buzz beside my ear.
My freaking ear.
My exposed, open, and inviting ear the flying monster could crawl inside.
I’d have had to die.
Right then and there.
If that beetle got into my ear, someone would have to put me down like they had Tiffany Martin’s dog last year after it was hit by a car.
Frantic and lost to all logic, I made a choice. I’d be wet and miserable the rest of the day, but beetles couldn’t swim, right?
That part of the creek was shallow, but I lunged forward, submerging my face. Scrubbing like a wild woman, I washed my thick hair with both hands. The rocks were hard beneath my stomach and chest, but a few scrapes and bruises were a small price to pay to be bug-free.
Still unconvinced I’d gotten it out of my hair, I started to roll to my back. Two arms suddenly wrapped around my middle.
“Stand up!” he barked, lifting me as best he could, which admittedly was only to my knees. “Just put your feet down. It’s not that deep.”
Freaking Camden Cole. Of course. I was flailing around in the water like an idiot. What more embarrassing time would there have been for him to finally arrive?
I had zero time to worry about what he thought while there was a living, breathing insect. In. My. Hair.
“Stop! I’m under attack!” I yelled, continuing to splash water into my hair and on my face.
“Would you stand the hell up and stop trying to drown yourself?” he snapped, dragging me to the bank. Unceremoniously, he dropped me on the dirt and then collapsed beside me, panting and heaving.
He looked different than he had the day before. His short, sandy-brown hair was the same and those blue eyes were just as bright as ever, but his cutoff jeans and black T-shirt with the sleeves ripped off was a far cry from his khakis and button-down. Thankfully, with dirty knock-off Converse shoes replacing his stupid penny loafers, he looked like every other kid from Clovert.
I might even have gone so far as to say he looked like one of the cute boys who were so few and far between. Yeah, okay, fine—I definitely would have said it. And dang, wasn’t that inconvenient considering I was soaking wet, covered in mud, and still unsure if we were even speaking.
He brought his knees up and rested his elbows on top while he caught his breath. “Jesus, Nora. You scared the crap out of me. I ran all the way from the road when I heard you scream. I thought you were being attacked by a coyote or something.”
“Well, it was close,” I said in all seriousness. “There was a bug in my hair.”
“A bug?” It was as much of a question as it was an accusation. “What kind of bug? Bee? Wasp? Yellow jacket?”
“I think it was actually a beetle. I didn’t stop to check though.”
His head cocked to the side. “You just had a seizure and almost drowned because of a freaking beetle?”
His lack of concern was insulting. “I don’t like bugs, okay? They’re gross and they have these tiny eyes, and I don’t even know where their nose is. Plus, they have extra legs and stuff. I mean seriously, who needs that many legs? Can you even imagine the sound of that thing in your ear?”
Horror contorted his face. “Holy crap, it went in your ear?”
I snapped my fingers and pointed at him. “No, but the point is it could have. You don’t know what it was thinking. Bugs are unpredictable. They don’t have to bite or sting or even crawl on you with all four million useless legs. All they have to do is see an open mouth or ear and you’re done for.”
He shivered and shook his head. “Jesus, how do you make a beetle sound so scary?”
“Welcome to my world.” Shrugging, I stood up and walked over to the creek. I washed my hands, and since I was already soaked, I splashed water on myself and tried to get the mud off my black athletic shorts. They were a hand-me-down from Thea’s horrific tomboy collection. I’d had to get creative with tie-dye and a pair of scissors to make the shirts not look like I’d stolen them from my brother, but they were at least useable.
“If you’re so scared of all things creepy and crawly, why did you get a job collecting worms?”
“I need the money.” I turned around and found him taking off his wet shoes and socks. Well, if you could call the one on his left foot a sock at all. It had so many holes it was more like a tube he wore on his ankle for decoration. Hmm, okay. Maybe Camden Cole wasn’t one of the rich kids after all. Those were Alberton socks if I’d ever seen a pair. “Oh, that reminds me.” I reached into my pocket, pulled out a soggy ten-dollar bill, and extended it in his direction. “Here.”
He stared at my hand, his baby blues sparkling in the morning sun while a single drop of water hung on a perfect curl in the middle of his forehead. “What’s that?”
“Your money for the worms yesterday.” I shoved the cash in his direction again, and he leaned away as if I were trying to hand him a grenade.
“Why are you giving it to me? You just said you need the money.”
“Uhhh, because it’s your money? Don’t worry. I took all the credit with Mr. Leonard. He told me if I kept doing such a good job he’d give me a two-dollar bonus each week.”
That got his attention. “Two dollars? He didn’t offer me anything extra and I had the same amount you had.”
I batted my eyelashes. “Yeah, but I’m a girl. I’m not allowed to play football or pee standing up, but every now and then, it pays off.”
“That’s ridiculous,” he muttered.
“I know. I think I would be really good at kicking field goals too.” When he made no move to take the money, I bent over and tucked it into his discarded shoe. “Anyway, I’m sorry for yelling at you yesterday.”
Barefoot, he stood up, his wet shirt clinging to his bony chest. “You don’t need to apologize. I did my fair share of shouting too.”
I dropped into a squat and got back to work, momentarily forgetting that my ears were once again at risk of kamikaze beetles. “Yeah, but you only shouted after I yelled, so I think it’s still my fault. Anyway, it was a rough day and I kinda took it out on you.” I kept my head down as I finished with, “Sorry.”
His toes shuffled into my peripheral vision. “Why was your day bad? What happened?”
“I’m currently blaming it on a mild heat stroke, but I did have to spend the day touching worms. So maybe it was a real stroke too.”
“Today any better?”
I sighed and kept scooping and sifting tiny piles of dirt. “I survived a heinous beetle attack, but I’m soaking wet now, so I’m not sure yet.”
“What about now?” His bucket suddenly appeared in my line of sight. And Holy. Cow. Worms. All the freaking worms.
My breakfast hadn’t even digested yet and he already had like twenty bucks’ worth.
I tipped my head back to catch his gaze. “Where do you keep getting all these worms?”
His smile nearly split his face. “Promise you won’t tell?”
“I told you I’m not a tattletale.”
“That sounds exactly like what a tattletale would say before running off to tattle on me.”
“Look, I gave your ten dollars back. That has to mean something, right? Give me some credit. I could have easily kept it.”
“You should have kept it. But okay, fine. I believe you.” He sank down beside me, crisscrossed his long, skinny legs between us, and began stripping a leaf from its stem. “So, fun story, on my way home from church yesterday, I found a ten-dollar bill on the sidewalk.” He stopped and looked up at me. He was so close I could see the dark flecks of sapphire peppered through his baby blues.
He stared at me for a long second, smiling like I should be able to
magically read his mind.
Completely unnerved by the fact I could feel his exhales, I prompted him with a drawn-out, “Okay?”
He plucked another leaf off the ground and slid it between his fingers, stripping it bare. “Like, what are the chances? I was on my way back here to work, to hopefully make ten bucks and there it was just sitting on the sidewalk, begging for me to pick it up. I’m not really religious or anything but I did manage to make it through Reverend Lyon’s sermon without falling asleep, so I feel like maybe this was God’s way of paying me back.”
What in the actual hell was this kid talking about?
“Uh huh,” I said instead of what I really wanted to say, which was: Get to the damn point. I forced something that I hoped resembled a smile. “I’m not sure church works like that. God probably has bigger fish to fry than paying you for staying awake. But okay, sure. Can we get back to the worms now? It’s supposed to be four thousand degrees this afternoon and I’d really like to catch at least a few before I melt.”
“Oh, you can’t catch any worms today.”
“What? Why not?”
“Because Mr. Leonard said our limit is around five hundred a week and he doesn’t want us out here on the weekends again.” He lifted his bucket in my direction. “We’ve already got a hundred for today.”
Now, normally, I would have shot to my feet, balled my fists, and screamed in his face that it wasn’t fair because I’d been hunting all morning and this included a near-death experience with a beetle. But he’d said one key word that kept my temper in check. “What do you mean we already have a hundred?”
That wide, toothy grin reappeared on his face. “You ready to listen yet?”
I clamped my mouth shut, but so help me sweet baby Jesus, if he tried to tell me God was now paying him for staying awake in church with earthworms, there was a solid chance I was going to do more than just yell at him today. But he did, in fact, have my attention, so I gestured that my lips were sealed with a zip across my mouth, and then I threw away the key.
“Anyway, after I found the money on the way back from church, I almost skipped out of coming here. But then I got an idea. And not fifteen minutes later, I walked out of Lewis Tractor Repair, Bait, and Booze with a hundred worms and met you. The end.”
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