Page 107 of Daydream

“Fights about what?”

She sighs. “I don’t even know. Mom used to say it was just boys being boys, which is a bullshit excuse in my opinion. Grayson wanted to live with Dad when our parents split up, but Dad didn’t fight for custody of us. Then we moved to Arizona, which Grayson hated. He was horribly bullied for sounding different, and he was small but really broad when everyone else was having a growth spurt and thinning out. I think it all just made him a super angry kid.”

“Is he still like that now?”

“Angry? No, he’s actually pretty chill now, just quiet. It was really hard on Mom because she was pregnant with Maisie. She had Gianna half the time, and Gi just didn’t understand why she suddenly had this woman acting like her mom, so she was a terror. And then every other day, Grayson’s school was on the phone saying he was going to get kicked out if he didn’t fix his behavior.”

“How did you feel about it?”

“I hated Grayson coming home bruised; it used to really stress me out because it made me think maybe I’d get bullied when I went to high school. I was taller than the other girls in my class and puberty slammed into me likeIwas the running back. I’ve always had bigger boobs, wider hips, thicker thighs, etcetera than everyone else, but I didn’t get bullied. No one paid attention to me really, but I still hate fighting because of how miserable everyone was while Grayson was acting up. Nobody knew about the bullying thing until later.”

Every time Halle tells me something about her life, I’m mad at myself for not asking earlier. I want to sit her down and learneverything there is to know about her. “What made him stop fighting? Was it the cross-stitch?”

“It was not the cross-stitch, I’m afraid.” Halle chuckles, but then it turns into a coughing fit, which reminds me to come back to this later. “So this sounds like it’s been lifted straight out ofForrest Gump, but I swear it’s true! He’d pissed off some guy in his class over something and they were going to fight after school.

“When Gray turned up there was this gang of kids there, so he ran. Our high school football coach saw how fast he was. Found out who he was, which meant finding out that he was an angry little nightmare on the brink of expulsion. He hauled him in, sat him down, and said if he stopped fighting and giving shit to all his teachers, he’d let him train with the players. If he stuck to it for the rest of the year, no incidents, he’d put him on the team.”

“I take it there were no more incidents?”

Halle chokes out a laugh again even though this story isn’t very funny. “No, there were incidents. And every time there was one, Coach reset the clock to zero. But that stubborn old man never gave up on him, and eventually Grayson made the team. Bullying stopped as soon as he was appreciated for being small and wide. His grades improved, he got into college, and the rest is history.”

“And what was happening to you? Grayson was fighting, Maisie was a baby, Gigi was confused. What were you doing?”

There’s a sad smile that she wears sometimes. One that doesn’t meet her eyes like when she truly smiles at me. “Well, we became a football family, so I spent a lot of time sitting on bleachers reading while we supported Grayson. I helped with Maisie’s diaper changes and keeping her entertained so Mom could have a break. Then Gigi moved in full-time, so that was another adjustment for everyone. I spent a lot of time hiding out at Will’s house that summer.”

“Is that how you became friends? Hiding from your family?”

“I wasn’t hiding from them. Mom and Paul, Mom especially, justhad so much going on that I didn’t want to ever add to the stress. It’s hard to get yourself into trouble when all you do is read books. Will was very confident and he just welcomed me with little effort on my part.” Why did I ask about Will? Why do I like annoying myself?

“I guess that makes sense.”

“I just didn’t have any responsibilities at Will’s house. Nobody asked me to do anything, I never ended up covered in baby spit-up, and Will was just so laid back about everything that it was a respite from always trying to keep the peace in my own house. I know I don’t talk about him positively now, but I needed him then. He made me feel less lonely.”

She rubs her temple again, and it’s a swift reminder that she needs to rest. And I don’t want to hear Will’s redeeming qualities when he treated her so badly and she doesn’t really see it. “I’d like to see the cross-stitch if your brother has it,” I say, changing the topic. “Are you ready be taken care of?”

She nods, looking around the room for any last-minute things, and she clearly spots one because she makes a little squeaking noise. “How do you feel about me bringing Quack Efron?”

Chapter Thirty-ThreeHALLE

THE FUN PART ABOUT SPENDINGso much time with someone who always says what they’re thinking is that when they’re tryingnotto say what they’re thinking, it’s painfully obvious.

There’s been a nervous energy in the air all week, and I put it down to Henry desperately wanting to make me feel better. I feel bad about making him worry, and if I’d known it was so serious that he was willing to introduce me to his mother, I’d have maybe listened to him a little sooner.

It’s hard being the person who needs to slow down when you’re the one who is always picking up the pieces for everyone else. Henry was right, though, and my pieces were flying all over the place.

Now that I’m finally feeling more like myself, it’s my turn to convince Henry to prioritize his health. He’s been going all out in the gym and doing extra hockey sessions with his teammates for weeks. He claims it’s because the best leader is one strong enough to lead his team—which I’m pretty sure is a quote he found online—and that it isn’t anything to do with the fact he’s playing against Will on Friday.

I guess it feels like a long time coming for him and probably like he’s got something to prove. He’s dancing around the truth, and I’mletting him, because I know all he’s heard from the guys is about how they won’t be able to face me if they get beat. I’ve tried to say I don’t care, but nobody seems to be listening to me.

The only plus side to Henry’s overthinking is his bid to distract himself, which so far has involved: bending me over, climbing on top of me, pulling me on top of him on every surface of his house, my house, and—as much as I’m horrified to admit it—my car.

My legs wobble when I try to use them, and instead of giving me the sympathy I so clearly deserve, he gave me a detailed breakdown of how lifting weights could help stop it. Then he makes my legs shake all over again.

I’ve read enough romance books to wonder how the leads get anything done when they’re constantly pawing at each other, but I honestly get it now. I have little to no interest in ever getting dressed and leaving the house. Which means every time I think I should really just ask him outright what’s bothering him, so I can reassure him again that I don’t care about Will, I instead immediately allow him to distract me.

The movie we put on has only been on for five minutes, but already he’s trying to get access to kiss my neck and his hand is traveling across my stomach. “Are you not tired?” I say, my eyes shutting tight when he begins to kiss down the column of my neck.

“Of you? Impossible,” he murmurs.

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