Page 86 of The Ruthless Note

Rick’s too.

“You’re friends with The Kings?” Rick’s girlfriend has stars in her eyes. “You’re freaking kidding me. What’s it like?”

I think of Dutch slamming me into lockers, ordering me around, and laying claim over my virginity.

My throat tightens. I wrap trembling fingers around a cup and sip. “We’re not really friends.”

Hunter’s eyes bore into my face, but I pretend not to notice and take another sip.

The conversation stalls again.

Rick’s girlfriend, poor thing, tries to pick it back up. Flashing Hunter a mischievous smile, she says, “You and Cadence went to the mall by yourselves? Was it like a date?”

“Not in that sense,” Hunter says casually, leaning back.

I hang my head and bite down hard on my bottom lip.

Hunter and I haven't really spoken since that day at the diner. I mean, he did text a few times, but it's been so hectic with school, work and Dutch breathing down my neck that I haven't had the time to answer.

“How old are you, Cadence?”

“Seventeen,” I say.

“She’ll be eighteen in December,” Hunter says.

My eyes swerve to him. I’m shocked that he knows that.

Rick looks over too. His jaw is hard. “Don’t sound so eager, man.”

Hunter and Rick exchange glares.

Rick's girlfriend pops to her feet. “I’ll get the cake so we can sing happy birthday. Hunter, can you help?”

“Yeah.” Hunter wipes his mouth and pushes away from the table.

Rick keeps staring into his plate and eating woodenly.

Viola catches my eye and cringes as if to say ‘this is so awkward’.

I motion for her to relax.

No one says a word until Hunter and Rick’s girlfriend return. We sing a lackluster happy birthday song and Rick cuts the cake.

“Oh,” his girlfriend takes a chomp of her slice, “some beer would go great with this.”

“I’ll get it.” Rick volunteers, glancing over at me. “Cadence, can you come with me?”

Stunned, I nod and follow Rick through the door.

We pass the dark and musty stairwell. The carpets are moldy, the lights are blinking out, and the walls look like they need to be torn down and rebuilt. Even our apartment looks more well maintained than this and we have a crappy building manager whostillhasn’t gotten back to me about fixing our locks.

Rick’s eyes meet mine. There’s embarrassment in his tone when he asks, “How have you been making do with the rent?”

“It’s fine,” I say.

I don’t hold his lack of involvement against him anymore. It was enough to find out that he’d beentryingto help out, even though he kept brushing me off and acting like I was a burden.

I get it. Mom left us both in a sucky situation. Rick didn’t ask for two half-sisters to barrel into his life out of nowhere. It’s not his responsibility to pay off mom’s debt.

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