Page 38 of Study Games

“I'm not worth half what you are.”

The med student started to needle and thread my back without jabbing me with anesthetic.

Kinky fucker.

Damn good thing I liked pain.

Crush studied my face. “Where’s this kid live?”

I shrugged. “He’s military. Ex. I know fuck all about him.

He rolled a shoulder and pointed to someone beyond me. “You're on it.”

The burley bastard smiled when I turned around, earning myself a hiss from baby student doctor dude. “All right.”

“I'm in.” Crush turned back to me. “We’ll have the info in an hour. You coming?”

I stared at him while something warm dripped down my back. “How come the glamour boys have to be fucking heroes?”

He smiled thinly. "You're not that far off it yourself.” He cuffed my chin lightly where a bump formed that should have been there.

“Ouch,” I deadpanned when it didn't even sting.

Crush smiled mirthlessly. “That's my boy.”

I tried to flip him the bird and passed out.

13

WAVERLY

Icurled on my bed with the pillow clutch to my stomach, slightly stunned. What just happened? In my hand, my father rambled on about how proud he was to have a daughter who attended Rippton U.

Guilt tugged at the corner of my heart, but it was only a tiny tug.

Because for the first time I was kind of proud of me, too.

Proud that I hadn't run. That somebody saw me for who I was and understood me as well.

A single tear trickled down my cheek. I brushed it away, absently nodding at whatever Dad said even though he couldn't see my face – thankfully, this time – and returned to clutching at my pillow.

“– just think, one day, a picture of my little girl will be on the cover of–”

I didn't hear the rest of that sentence either, thinking about the cover of a very different article, not the scientific journal that I’d always dreamed of since I was a little girl hoping to win a Nobel prize.

No, this one would be on the cover of a local rockstar’s single. Album cover. Whatever. I didn't even know how to say it properly. Xoan Kennedy. Even saying his name felt like a dream.

Celia had shown me the cover art, squealing and jumping around while I tried to make heads and tails of it all. She’d screenshotted it and had been playing the music all morning long. Kennedy’s lullaby wasn’t going anywhere, and had stayed sticky in the top ten throughout the day.

With a song that beautiful, I didn't doubt that it would be there for a while yet.

Along with my face – and my ass – gracing the cover.

Dad would probably never see it. He listened to country and nothing else. My brother, on the other hand…

I shrugged off the uncomfortable shroud that weighed over my joints. No. This was something I was proud of. It was a piece of me, and I love being part of the art Jax made. The first time I felt loved and protected by someone outside of my family, my home.

The first time I felt like me.

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