Page 62 of Race to Me

“Skyler Johnson,” I tell her, then I realize this is the first time I’ve ever had to deal with anything like this. I’ve never even gotten a ticket before.

“License?” she asks, and I hand it to her.

A few moments of clicking later, the clerk dust her hands. “Okay, all clear.” she announces.

“Just like that?” My eyes widen in surprise.

“Yes, ma’am. You’re an adult, so you could go to Siberia and no one could say anything. It looks like your parents filed the report, and you of course are entitled to not contact them. But as a mother, maybe let them know you’re okay.” Her words bring me calm. Even though my parents are still trying to control me with this report, all it has shown me is how free I actually am.

Knowing Brett is safe, we drop Kate off at the dorms. She does a little wave, but I can tell she knows something is majorly wrong. Foster squeezes my thigh, letting me know it’s going to be alright when a tear runs down my cheek.

I would stay the night with her, but between Envy living there and my fear of telling the truth, I’m going to wait a little longer.

As we pull into Foster’s place, I internally scream from the number of cars the driveway and yard are riddled with. I just want a quiet moment of peace, but these are the cards I’m dealt right now, and I want to be anywhere he is.

We walk inside, and everyone cheers, coming to greet Foster. A lot of the guys, including Ryder, address me by name, making me feel special that Foster undoubtedly brought me up in conversation. I see Callum taking a shot in the corner of the room, and he smiles at me.

Foster bends to my ear, saying, “Welcome to the house. You’re part of an elite group of rejects now, Freckles.” He grins, planting a kiss on my cheek.

It’s like the bad boy version of a frat house. Everyone has something about them here that says they’ve been through some stuff together and that they’re a family. I’m starting to understand it a bit more.

We go to his room, ignoring the protests from the guys who beg us to stay and party.

The bed comes into view, inviting me to collapse onto it. Not bothering to change, I spring my tired body against the soft comforter, stretching myself out. Foster throws his shirt on the ground, and I can’t help but stare at his sculptured chest.

He sends me a look, pulling his bottom lip between his white teeth while he walks over to me. Slowly, he climbs on top of me. His silver chain dangles from his neck, and the cold links touch my chin. “Want me to help you relax?” he asks, tilting his head.

I give a small nod, nervous but aching for him. I’m so ready to take my mind off of my reality and just get lost in him. No looming threat of if I’ll be a student tomorrow or if I’ll have money to eat. Just me, him, and a blissful moment.

I bring my nails across his back gently, watching as his jaw clenches from the contact. His lips are devouring my neck when a loud noise catches our attention. There’s some music and chatting downstairs but nothing insane tonight.

The commotion stops, and Foster’s obsidian eyes bore into me. “Where were we?” he asks, licking his lips.

It starts again just as I feel him hardening against my leg. “Get the fucking door!” Foster booms, but no one hears or cares about the persistent banging.

With a groan, he kisses my forehead and hastily removes himself from me. He paces the carpet for a moment to calm himself down before exiting the room.

My phone dings, an influx of texts chiming through.

Kate: “That Bitch!”

Attached to the message is a picture of her bed soaked in neon green paint. More pictures come through. The comforter, mattress, pillows, and her rug are completely doused in the ugly green slime.

Oh my God.

Me: “What happened?”

Foster comes trudging back to the room, and I see a blip of lime hair bouncing close behind him. I groan when he gives me a pouting look.

Ding.

Kate: “It was Envy.”

I scoff, raising from the bed with a heated fury coursing through my veins. “What is she doing here?” I bark.

“It’s Ghost’s house, not yours.” she chimes, pulling a piece of gum from her teeth and twisting it around her finger. Gross.

We both cross our arms, looking at him. Foster walks over to me, placing his hand on my arm. “She has nowhere else to go.” he pleads.

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