Page 89 of Dare To Break

His room is on the floor below mine with the rest of the senior boys. We pass other students hanging out in the communal seating areas while others huddle around study tables. A group of people are watching a movie in one of the shared living rooms.

Balancing the cardstock he’s holding in one arm, Miles fumbles for his key. Somehow, he manages to get his door open without dropping everything on the floor and stands back to let me enter first, then kicks the door closed behind us.

“We can dump it here.” He drops the sheets, letting them fall to the floor in a heap in the corner of the room.

I add mine to the pile and then turn to inspect his room curiously.

“Bret’s your roommate?” There are photographs of the other swimmer decorating the wall above one of the beds.

“Yeah.” Kicking off his shoes, Miles sprawls out on his own bed. “Do you like superhero movies? We can watch something while we work.”

I lower my bag to the floor and squash the urge to check the phone, taking off my sneakers instead. “Who doesn’t?”

“DC or Marvel?”

“Oh, no! I don’t align myself with sides. I’m firmly in the middle.”

Miles laughs, reaching for the sleek gray laptop on his nightstand. “You know that’s the easy way out, right?”

I shrug. “I like characters in both universes. Why should I choose when I can enjoy both?”

“You present a compelling argument.”

“So, what do you prefer? DC or Marvel?”

Scooting over on the mattress, he makes room for me to join him. “No one can say no to Thor. Have you seen the size of his … hammer?”

I shake my head, laughing, while I unzip my damp hoodie and take it off.

“Are those scars?” he asks as I drape my top over the chair beside his desk.

My gaze is drawn to the skin just above my right wrist. “Burn marks.”

Miles sits up, moving a little closer. “How did you get them?”

I run a fingertip over one of the blemishes. “I was six, and my mom brought one of her boyfriends home for the weekend. He decided to use me as an ashtray when he was drunk.”

A knock on the door stops Miles from answering.

“Hey, Miles. You in there?” Evan’s voice calls out.

We both freeze.

“Moan,” Miles mouths at me.

“What?”

“Moan!”

I let out a long-drawn-out groan like a porn star.

“You like that, baby.” His voice is rough, but his eyes are full of mischief.

Trying not to giggle, I cry out. “Ahhh, Miles. Right there. Right there!”

“Ah, shit, man,” Evan says. “I didn’t know you were busy. I’ll talk to you later.”

Neither of us speak until we’re sure he’s gone.

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