Page 60 of The Breaking Point

Samantha giggled. She looked over the railing down at Grace. “Seriously? It’s Saturday.”

I also looked over the railing. “Yeah, it’s Saturday,” I drawled. “Go play with your dolls or something.”

That made Samantha laugh again. Grace’s expression turned indignant as Samantha and I kept walking upstairs.

Good, get pissed at me,I thought. I’m not good enough for you. Just leave me alone and find somebody better.

I knew I was playing a dangerous game here. I also knew that Mr. and Mrs. Dallas would be pissed at me for bringing a girl over without their permission.

Even then, I didn’t care. All I cared about was getting Grace to stop whatever this was.

It was better for her in the long run anyway.

It was a close call getting Samantha out of the house before Mr. and Mrs. Dallas returned. When I heard their SUV pull up in the driveway, Samantha and I were making out in my bed.

I stilled, listening. Samantha tried kissing me again, but I made her stop. She pouted.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Shit. You need to leave.”

I jumped out of bed and went to the window. Although we were on the second floor, there was a trellis that I’d used before to get in and out of the house undetected.

“What? You’re kicking me out?” Samantha sounded outraged.

“I’m not supposed to have girls over.”

“You said it was okay!”

I grimaced. “I lied. Now get going unless you want to get us both into trouble.”

Samantha had gotten suspended from school more than once this year, so I knew she didn’t want to get in trouble again. She made a face and started to descend from the window.

“Go around the back when I tell you,” I hissed at her.

I couldn’t see her expression, but I would have bet anything she was rolling her eyes at me.

I heard the front door open and close. I signaled to Samantha to run. To my relief, she didn’t protest.

I waited, listening. Then I let out a sigh of relief when it seemed like I’d gotten out of this scot-free.

Well, except for Grace. She knew about Samantha, and she knew it wasn’t allowed. I scowled. Would she rat me out?

I didn’t have time to tell her to keep her mouth shut before Mr. and Mrs. Dallas were coming upstairs.

I waited in anticipation for Grace to say something, but before I knew it, her parents were shutting their bedroom door to go to sleep.

I lay in bed and tried to sleep. Guilt gnawed at me. Samantha and I hadn’t really done anything, but even then, I hated the thought of disappointing Mr. and Mrs. Dallas.

They were the first family who seemed like they gave a shit about me. Which meant that I gave a shit about them.

Who says they’ll keep caring about you once you turn eighteen?

It was a sobering reminder of how often foster kids were kicked out and forgotten once they reached eighteen. I needed to remember that the Dallases weren’t my family, not really.

I must’ve fallen asleep because the next moment I heard footsteps. I sat upright in bed, my heart pounding, only to see Grace standing over me.

“Jesus Christ,” I growled, “you scared me.”

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