Page 20 of Come Break My Heart Again

I lift an eyebrow. “You serious? The job you got me, for one.”

“Uncle Hank is cool. He’d let you shift around hours. As long as the cars get fixed, doesn’t matter what time it is.”

“I don’twantto play football,” I tell him.

A partial lie. A partial truth. I resent most of the ridiculous pageantry of high school, but I do enjoy playing.

“You’re good.”

“I know I am. Doesn’t mean I want to play with these dicks. One month, I’ll be eighteen; I won’t even have to show up to school at all.”

Tucker groans as he turns the key in the ignition. The truck rumbles to life a few seconds later. “Don’t be stupid, James. Get a diploma at least.”

I tap the dashboard. “It’s ten to three, man. Let’s go.”

“Pay up first.”

My jaw works a couple of times as I glance over at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Rearview mirror’s got a great view of the parking lot.”

I exhale.

“She looks good, right?”

I never told Tuck what happened with Elle, but he made a lot of assumptions. Most of which were correct.

I don’t respond. I just tug a twenty out of my pocket and toss it toward my best friend. “Gas money. Not for the dumb bet I didn’t agree to.”

There’s no way I’m telling Tuck not only did Elle talk to me, but that was technically our second conversation today.

The pack of cigarettes has been in my back pocket all day, so they’re a bit crushed. They still light. Unlike my school in Jacksonville, Fernwood High follows the honor system. No random locker searches or metal detectors or drug dogs roaming campus. I pull my phone out too.

It wasn’t Tuck who texted me ten minutes ago. It was my dad.

SPERM DONOR: Talk soon, kiddo. Wish things had worked out differently.

“I thought you quit?” Tuck asks.

I drop my phone in my lap. “Shut up and drive.”

Tuck flips me off before shifting into drive. “I missed you, man.”

I blow a stream of smoke out the window. “Yeah. Same here, Franklin.”

I did miss Tuck. I missed my brother, Cormac, and my mom and Reese and the other friends I left behind here. I even missed having seasons. Florida was basically an endless stretch of humidity.

But the honest answer to what—who—I missed most?

The girl I made certain hates my guts.

5

Early morning sunshine dazzles off the smooth surface of the Charles as I sprint along the pavement path lining the riverbank. I’m soaked with sweat, breathing heavily, and setting a pace even Scout is struggling to keep up with. In his defense, he’s stuck wearing a fluffy fur coat while I’m dressed in shorts and a tank top. The temperature feels like we skipped over the end of spring and jumped straight to summer.

I pause at a bench to gulp down half of my water bottle, watching a pair of pigeons fight over a crust of bread that fell out of the overflowing trash can.

Scout laps greedily from the collapsible rubber bowl I keep clipped to my running bag, the annoying bang against my hip for the past couple of miles worthwhile as I watch his pink tongue inhale liquid as quickly as possible. This is farther than we usually run, and today is rapidly turning into the warmest day in about eight months.

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