Page 44 of Bad Boys Don’t Date Clumsy Girls

Chapter Seventeen

The next morning, my eyes are still a little swollen from having cried myself to sleep. I splash extra cold water on my face, hoping to shock it back to normal. No such luck.

Of course, Bek notices right away. “What happened? Is it your mom?”

I slump into my desk and whisper the story to her.

“Is she okay?” Bek frowns.

I shrug. “I think so. I heard her leave for work at the normal time. She was gone all night, so I can only guess that means she made it through her shift and stopped at the tavern on the way home.”

“You have a cool brother. I can’t imagine my brother letting me cry on his shoulder.”

I give her a smile that I don’t really feel. The subject of Mom absolutely exhausts me. “I think it’s probably a good thing that you and your brother aren’t bonded like that. It means you haven’t been through hell and back together.”

Her scribbling pauses and she stares at the desk. “I guess you’re right.”

“I bet he’d be there for you if you needed him though.” I rest my cheek in my palm. I don’t really know her brother. He’s a freshman this year, but they never stop to talk or anything. I don’t know her family, either. I’ve seen her mom and her aunt a couple times at Becca’s Bloom Bomb when I’ve gone in with Sam. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her dad, which suddenly seems weird. But has she ever seen my mom? We’ve always only hung out at Sam’s, so maybe not. “I just hope you don’t find that out anytime soon.”

Bek hops out of her chair and runs up to Miss Hess’s desk. She says something quietly to the teacher, who looks concerned but nods at her. Bek plucks the jam jar filled with wildflowers from the teacher’s desk and brings it back to me.

“You need these more than she does today.”

I hate that tears burn behind my eyes again as I gape at the lovely flowers. They seem to stare up at me, much like the dogs at the shelter do. Finally, I smile at my friend. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

“Okay, let’s get this party started,” Miss Hess says as she finishes writing the chapter name of the homework from the night before on the board. She glances at me and raises her brows in a silent question.

I scrunch my nose and give her a thumbs up. Miss Hess doesn’t need to start worrying about my life, but it’s nice of her to check in. Most teachers would assume it’s something to do with teenage drama and never even ask.

All throughout class, I stare at the innocent faces of the flowers and marvel at how much they remind me of the dogs. Unconditional. Eager to please.

After class, I carry the flower arrangement to my locker, placing it carefully inside so that it will be the first thing I see when I open the door. Bek really knows me, doesn’t she? Somehow, my spacy friend knows that an unassuming bunch of flowers will remind me that I’m loved and that I’m not alone.

I gently close the locker door and head to my next class. I spy Dylan, walking with Lydia. I remind myself, he doesn’t matter because I’ve decided that Dylan is drama I don’t need in my life. I force my gaze away from him and stare forward.

Because I’m so focused, I startle when a hand wraps around my upper arm.

“Hold on, Ava,” Dylan says. His voice is low and somehow intimate in this crowded hall. “Are you okay?”

I blink, wondering what he means. When his gaze roves over my face, I remember my red, puffy eyes and cold mortification seeps over me like someone has broken a raw egg on my head.

More pity. Great.

“I’m fine.” I yank my arm from his loose grip and walk away.

At lunch, I force myself not to look around the cafeteria to see if Dylan is here. I’m so distracted, Sam must continually draw my attention back to her and repeat whatever she said. Finally, she huffs at me.

“Ava, what is wrong with you? You’re so distracted.”

Bek comes to my rescue by providing a perfectly acceptable excuse, even if it isn’t exactly accurate. “There was an incident with her mom last night.”

“Another fight?” Sam scrunches her brow in confusion. Probably because another fight would be normal and wouldn’t cause me any extra distraction.

“No, my mom fell and cut her head open.” I sigh and rub my face, lamenting the thought of telling the story again. However, there’s no way I can confide in Bek and not tell Sam.

“Is she okay?”

“I have no clue.” I briefly explain what happened to Mom, but focus my story on how Joel took care of her injuries first and then was forced to comfort me before going to work. “I swear, that guy is already like a full-fledged adult with the responsibilities he has to shoulder.”

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