Boys That Read: A High School Romance

by Rosewood, Betti

"Okay," I mumbled lamely.

  "We need to find a way to get you out of that house. Eastvale would have been perfect. How come your dad was on board with that, anyway? Thought he'd want to keep a closer eye on you."

  "He does," I winced. "He only likes the idea of Eastvale because it's his alma mater. But trust me, he'd keep tabs on me."

  "That's no good then. We have to find a way for you to stay safe in that house. But I don't think any of you should stay there longer than necessary." He peered at me from the corner of his eyes. "Are you the only one he hits?"

  My hands formed fists at my sides, a defensive remark ready to burst through my lips. But I forced myself to swallow the snarky reply. All I could manage in its absence was to shake my head.

  "Romilly?" Milo asked.

  "Not for a while."

  "Your mom?" I shook my head. “Has he threatened to do it? How often?”

  "I don't know," I muttered. "More often now than he used to."

  "He's been hitting her for a while?"

  What does a while mean? I silently questioned him. There's never been a time that he didn't hit her. "I guess." "Estella, this is important," he insisted. "You need to tell me the truth or I'll never be able to help you. I need to know the details so I can... Stells?" I glanced at him to see him staring at my knuckles. They were snow white from the way I was clutching my handbag. I'd promised myself I wouldn't cry in front of him, but this wasn't much better. I was seconds away from hyperventilating.

  "I'm fine," I said on autopilot. "Everything's okay."

  "I'm pulling over." "What? No, we won't make it on time." I glared at him as he took a left, pulling to the beach. "Milo, don't. We don't have time for this."

  "Do as I say," he told me, parking the car on a makeshift spot in the gravel. "Get out of the car." "What, here?" I glared at him, crossing my arms in the passenger seat. "In the middle of nowhere?"

  "Yeah. Now."

  I did as he said, but I didn't even try to hide how angry I was, slamming the passenger door of his car. There was nothing around us but the motorway, miles of sand and sea, with seagulls cruising above us. "What the hell, Milo? What are you trying to do, kill me out here?"

  "I need you to do something for me." He came to stand by me, his palms coming to rest on my shoulders and sending shivers down my spine. Pretend nothing happened. Pretend this doesn't affect you.

  "What do you want me to do?"

  "Scream." He grinned.

  "Scream?"

  "Yeah." He motioned to the sea and the highway. "No one's gonna give a shit or even hear you around here."

  "Why would I do that?"

  "Trust me, it will feel good. Let it all out."

  "This is ridiculous," I laughed nervously. "I'm not just going to scream into the-"

  "Scream, Estella."

  I gave him a doubtful look before kicking at the sand and instantly regretting my decision when my wedges filled with tiny golden grains. "Ugh, whatever, Milo."

  "You want me to make you?" He raised his brows at me, and I swallowed thickly.

  "Can we go if I do?" I rolled my eyes.

  "Of course."

  "Fine." I kept glaring, clearing my throat before letting out a baby scream. It was nowhere near what I actually wanted to do, but I needed to stay classy in front of him. I was a lady, not some wild girl who screamed into the wind on an abandoned beach.

  "That's the best you can do?" MIlo smirked at me before cupping his mouth and screaming as loud as he could, making me groan in embarrassment.

  "Someone's going to think you're killing me out here," I told him.

  "Just do it, Princess."

  Something about the way he said it made me reconsider. I gave him another doubtful look before screaming a bit louder. Another glance at him revealed a huge grin on his face. I screamed again.

  "Atta girl," MIio yelled. "One more time, together."

  He reached for my hand, his fingers intertwining with mine, and we both took deep breaths before screaming at the sea clashing against the shore. My voice was getting scratchy, but suddenly I couldn't stop. I screamed and screamed until I had no voice left. Milo watched me, and when I started shaking, he pulled me in for a hug. I wanted to let myself come apart in his arms like I'd never wanted anything else. But I couldn't do it. Couldn't force myself to let him see that raw part of me. "Thank you," I whispered shakily.

  "You're welcome, Stells."

  He guided me back to the car, safely strapped me in with my belt, and blasted music from his ancient car radio. We didn't speak a word for the rest of the way to Maple Woods, but the silence was easy, companionable. And the whole way there, Milo's left hand rested on the steering wheel, but his right covered my trembling hand on my lap.

  * * *

  "Estrellita!"

  I grinned wide, rushing toward my grandma as she got up from her floral-printed armchair. Maple Woods was even dingier than I remembered it. For some reason, I'd thought it was a high-end institution, a place that made abuelita happy and kept her occupied, but instead, it was depressing, with annoyed-looking staff and ancient furniture.

  "It's so good to see you, abuela," I told her honestly. "I know it's been so long."

  She waved her hand dismissively as if it didn't matter at all. "I'm so glad you're here. And who's this handsome young man you've brought with you?"

  "Hello, senora Hernandez," Milo grinned. "I don't know if you remember me... I used to visit Estella all the time. My name is Milo Earnshaw."

  "Milo!" she looked almost more pleased to see him than me. "I can't believe it!" He went in to shake her hand, but she was having none of it, pulling him in for a quick embrace instead. Milo laughed and I stifled a giggle as abuela winked at me from over his shoulder. "Come on, let's go to the sunroom. It's the nicest place in this downtrodden home. We can talk about everything there. "Venga, venga!"

  We made our way to the sunroom, which was as empty as the rest of the home. I wondered whether they even had any staff on hand to make sure the residents were taken care of.

  "I must say, I didn't expect another visitor so soon after last time," abuela went on. "You know someone came to see me, don't you?" "Papa?" I asked, furrowing my eyebrows. "I would have come with him if I knew he was coming."

  "No, silly," she laughed, pointing between Milo and me. "There were three of you, weren't there? Milo, you and the other girl."

  Milo and I exchanged glances. I wondered whether I looked as pale as he did before turning to face abuelita again. "Which other girl, grandma?"

  "Pandora, wasn't it?" She beamed innocently, obviously not realizing what her words were doing to the two of us. "She came to see me only a few weeks ago. Such a nice girl. I'm so glad she took the time to pay me a visit." She patted my hand. "I know you would love to come more often too, dear. If it weren't for your papa."

  "I..." I gulped. Was the room stuffy or was I just imagining it? It seemed as if someone has sucked all the air out of it, leaving me breathless. "It's nice she came to visit, grandma. I'm sorry I haven't been here in a while."

  "Oh, carino, I completely understand," abuela smiled. "I know your papa can be a little... overprotective."

  "Senora Hernandez, that's actually why we're here," Milo jumped in, offering me a calming smile. "May I tell her what happened, Stells?"

  "O-Okay," I stuttered, blushing and looking away.

  "What's on your cheek, mija?" abuela asked right away, and I felt myself blushing. She always did have an eagle eye for details. "Did he..." Her words trailed off into nothing, but Milo was quick to speak up.

  "Unfortunately, it seems as Mr. Hawthorne is losing control," he muttered. "I wanted us to come and see you today to see if you had any advice."

  My grandma looked at her hands in her lap. It was only then that I noticed they were trembling, just for a few seconds until they fisted in her dress. "I told him it would all be over when this happened."

  "What do you mean?" Milo asked gently.

  "I told hi
m he was never supposed to hit you girls," abuela shook her head in disbelief. "I knew about your mama. How could I not, living under your roof? It's the reason he moved me here, Estella. So I'd stay out of his business."

  "But abuela," I started. "He's your son. Don't you think he loves you? Wasn't this... the best decision?"

  "Look around, mijita," abuela laughed. "This place is falling apart. I would've been better off living on my own, but he made me sign a document that makes him responsible for me. I didn't even read it, just signed it. Because I trusted him, Estella. Just like you do."

  Milo's hand rubbed circles on the small of my back, the only spot where the numbness hadn't taken over. I couldn't believe this. Papa had taken advantage of abuela in the worst possible way, and not just that - he'd purposefully kept us separated, too.

  "I'm so sorry I didn't realize," I whispered, flushing with embarrassment.

  "It's not your fault, corazon," abuelita patted my hand. "He hid it from you. That boy has been a bad egg since the beginning. I shouldn't say it, but it's true."

  "What can I do to help?" Milo asked. "I have money. I can help Estella, her mom and sister get out of there, can't I?"

  She shook her head. "I don't think he'll ever let you do that, young man."

  "There has to be a way." The urgency in my own voice surprised me. "I want to get us away from him, abuela. And I want to get you out of here, too."

  "Is there anything you can think of that would be helpful?" Milo insisted. "Even the smallest thing you heard, or thought... It could help us."

  "Well, there was a phone call..." She tapped a finger against her chin, shaking her head. "No, I'm sure it's nothing. He wouldn't do that."

  "Do what?" Milo's voice was gentle but firm, and abuela gave him a long look before sighing and speaking up.

  "A man called him when he visited months ago."

  "A man?" Milo encouraged her.

  "A Mr. Jenkins."

  "That's the hedge fund manager for Angels of Hope," I muttered while Milo shot me a confused look. "He's the guy who managed Dad's charity for children."

  "Okay," Milo nodded. "What did you hear, Senora Hernandez?"

  "He spoke to the man about the contracts," abuela said. "That they will become valid in a couple of months, and he'd finally have access to the money."

  "What money?" I questioned.

  "I don't know," abuela shrugged apologetically. "Something about assets becoming accessible."

  "How does your dad's charity work, Estella?" Milo asked.

  "I... I know it's for children learning ASL," I said. "Papa gathers money during his sermons, on his website, in every media appearance he does."

  "How does the money collecting work?"

  "It's a monthly deduction from the customer's bank account," I whispered.

  "What about the money he'd have access to in a few months?"

  "The only thing I can think of..." I bit my bottom lip while they watched me expectantly. "The yearly anniversary of Angels of Hope is coming up. Maybe papa will have access to the money those people donated?"

  "How does the money get spent?" Milo asked.

  "I can answer that," abuela answered proudly. "My son donates the proceedings to third world countries, for building schools and hospitals."

  "Is he planning a big project for this winter?" Milo addressed his question at me. "Going somewhere to help out?"

  "Not this year," I explained. "Next year."

  "So why does it matter that the money's accessible now?" he asked.

  "It doesn't," I said.

  "Unless..." He looked down in disbelief. "Unless he's planning on spending it for something else."

  "He would never use that money for himself," abuela said, her voice breaking over the words.

  "I thought he would never hit me," I managed. "I guess there's a first for everything." We sat there for while in miserable silence before abuela took a deep breath, saying, "I don't know about you two but I could do with a shot of tequila!"

  "Abuela," I giggled. "Aren't you on medication?"

  "Claro que no," she said. "I'm healthy as can be. Now let me show you something."

  She got up, straightened her floral dress and walked over to the cabinet. She dug around until she brought out a small bottle and a coffee cup. "Tequila in a nursing home," Milo grinned. "I like it."

  Abuela laughed as she poured herself a hefty dose. "None for you, you're too young."

  I stifled laughter as she drank the double of tequila and put it back in the cabinet, crossing her arms. "Here's what you do, mijos. You find out more about this Angels of Hope business. You call me, and we come up with a plan. I want to get out of here."

  "You got it, abuela," I told her. "We're going to work on this. I promise. And thank you for helping us."

  "Of course," she nodded gravely. "Please do let me know when something new happens. Nobody ever tells me anything."

  "I will drive Estella up here myself," Milo promised. "As soon as we have some good news."

  "Thank you, Milo." Was I imagining it, or was abuelita... flirting with Milo? "You have grown into a wonderful young man... Handsome too, isn't he, Estrellita?"

  "Abuela," I hissed a warning, barely holding back a laugh. "Shhh."

  "It's the truth," she said. "You two are such a beautiful couple. Muy guapo." She winked at me.

  "Oh, we're not a couple." I laughed out loud. "Milo's much too good for someone like me."

  "Too good?" he raised a brow at me.

  "Milo's a bit of a snob, abuelita," I laughed. "He would never touch me." I felt the frosty silence coming from him, and I knew I'd fucked up.

  "If you say so," abuela glanced between us. "But I know a couple in love when I see one. "I'll see you soon, I hope?"

  "Of course," I nodded, hugging her tightly.

  After we said our goodbyes, Milo and I made our way to the car. He didn't say a word, stubbornly keeping his responses to yes or no even when I asked questions. I annoyed him the entire ride home, but he wouldn't speak to me at all. It was the longest ride ever. Finally giving up about halfway through, I was pouting by the time we pulled up in front of our driveway.

  "You don't have to come with me," I told him as he unbuckled.

  "I want to make sure you don't sneak off again," he muttered without meeting my eyes. "Or your dad will blame me."

  "Milo, I'm... sorry about what I said."

  "What?" He glared as we got out, walking up to the door. "It's what you think, isn't it?"

  I shrugged.

  "You think I'm afraid to touch you?" His words were barely audible, coming out in a threatening growl. “I just held your hand.”

  "You would never do more than that." I crossed my arms defensively in front of my body. "You barely even look at me."

  "It makes me sad to look at you." His words made my heart sink. "Makes me sad to see what I can't have." And just like that, it jumped back up, threatening to choke me in the process.

  "You can't say things like that."

  "Don't you think I know that?" He took a step closer, making me scramble backward until I hit the wall, my shoulder blades pressed against it firmly. "Don't you know how fucking hard I try so I don't slip? Say something stupid?"

  "Something stupid like what?" I whispered.

  "Like I’m done saving you," he hissed, caging my body beneath his arms as he put his palms on the wall either side of my head. "Like I’m done doing shit my brother should be doing. And you ask me to do it, not him. It’s stupid.”

  "Very stupid." My voice was breathy, my body desperate to press against his. "I still think you're afraid." I knew exactly what I was doing. Milo Earnshaw had a tell - and it had been that very tell that put me a step ahead when we played chess. And now, it was the tell that told me I was pushing him, pressing his buttons, and he was about to snap. The corner of his mouth pulled to the side, and I knew he was holding back, just like before a big move in chess. "What, are you saying you're not? You talk a big game but
you don't-" Before I could finish, his firm palm wrapped around my throat. His touch was gentle, but firm, and he pinned me down as I struggled to catch my breath from the shock of his actions.

  "You were saying?" he ground out through gritted teeth.

  "Coward," I spat out, desperate for more. I knew exactly what I was doing. I knew everything Milo tried to hide from others. I was his oldest friend, after all. "You're just trying to intimidate me."

  "Are you intimidated?" he asked, leaning in closer. My breath hitched in my throat when I realized he was going in for a kiss, but his lips never touched mine. Instead, they lingered above my lips, filling my nose with the scent of chewing gum. "Are you scared I'm going to do it, Estella?" I shook my head helplessly just as his hands left my neck, sliding over my arms, down to my hips, across my curves and finally settling on the outside of my thighs. "You're so desperate for more."

  "Am not," I chirped.

  "Maybe, if you stopped lying, I'd actually give you what you so desperately need."

  "I don't need you."

  "And that's why you can't have more, you little liar." I knew he was going to pull back, but I couldn't let him do that. The thought of losing him, his touch, made me feel ill. I wanted more. Everything else faded into the background. The problems at home, Natan, Pandora. Everything faded into white noise as I stared into Milo's eyes.

  "Don't let me go." I wouldn't admit those words had come from my lips. But I recognized my own desperate voice when I heard it.

  "Don't tempt me." He tugged on my hair, pulling my head to the side, dangerously close to his parted lips. I could feel his cool breath against my lips. I could almost taste the gum. But he never closed the distance between us. "Pick me."

  "W-What?"

  "Pick me," he repeated. "Why are you even with Nate? You know you don't belong with him. I'll give you everything you want."

  "You will?" It was a fantasy, a sick, twisted fantasy that made my knees weak and my head foggy. "You promise?"

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he gently wrapped his arm around my hips and pulled me against him. The first touch of his lips against mine was a shock, awakening a need deep within me that threatened to kill me with its intensity. I mewled against his lips, but he shut me up by kissing me deeply. My heart was pounding, alarm bells going off in my head as he deepened the kiss, claiming what he thought was his.