Page 66 of Lost Boy
“Come here, baby,” I say gently but with urgency. A desperation I can’t contain. We both need a fucking hug for having shitty moms.
Fallon crawls onto my lap, straddling me, and wraps his arms around my neck, lowering his lips to mine for a brief, tender kiss before pulling back. I tuck a lock of blue hair behind his ear, murmuring soft words and reassurances to him.
“I’m so glad you crash-landed into my life, Blue. And thank you for opening up and letting me be there for you like you need. I promise you can trust me.” I kiss his neck, right behind his ear, making him shiver.
“I didn’t tell my mom you’re my boyfriend earlier because she said horrible things to my dad when he came out and wanted a divorce. He wanted to remain friends because he still cared deeply for her, but just like your mom, she changed. Became a different person. Although Georgie tells me she was always nasty and condescending.”
I sigh loudly, wishing she would just be a normal, nice mom who loved her kids and did crafts and baked banana nut muffins every weekend. I swear to God, if I ever have kids, I’m going to spoil them with time, attention, andlotsof baked goods.
“I don’t even know why she comes around. I guess for Sofie. Not me. She knows I hate her. I won’t forget what she said abouthomosexualsand, therefore,me. She doesn’t deserve to know that part of my life, that side of myself. And I don’t want you to be a target of her hate. I won’t risk that either.”
“I understand, Ry,” he whispers softly, squeezing my neck tightly. “I can be your secret.”
My stomach drops at his words, not liking the sound of it.At all.
“You’re not a—”
My words are cut off by a loud, harsh knock on my bedroom door, and we scramble apart even though I know I locked it.
I straighten my clothes, and Fallon moves to the gaming chair in front of the multiple computer monitors on my desk and startsCommand and Conquer.
I open the door, and my mom sticks her head in, peering around dubiously, eyes landing on Fallon. Her perfectly arched brows scrunch ever-so-slightly, but it’s hard to tell with all the Botox she gets.
“Yes?” I say rudely, but I don’t care. It’s not fair that she disrupts everyone’s life when she shows up.
“Well, darling. It seems you’ve gotten your wish. I just got an email from a dear friend of mine, Roger. He invited me on a lovely Caribbean cruise. I head out tonight, so I need to leave. But maybe I’ll plan a trip for the three of us when I return.”
She won’t.
“Or I’m sure Roger would be more than happy to take the three of us,” she muses, eyes sparkling. I don’t want to be anywhere around her gold-digging, old-man-fucking ways. And Sofie isn’t going to be around that either. Dad will not allow it.
“No thanks,” I tell her bluntly, folding my arms across my chest and shuffling over to block her view of the inside of my room and Fal.
Mom huffs. “Always so difficult, Ryder. Just tell my daughter I stopped by to see her. I miss her.”
No way in fucking hell.
“Bye, Mom. I’ll see you out.” As I step out of the doorway, she darts a curious glance over to Fallon again and then back to me. Luckily, she doesn’t comment, just follows me when I shut the door and head for the stairs.
Time to get her out before everyone gets home.
And it’s a sweet fucking relief. Penelope Schneider-Cruz is the Wicked Witch of the West, and I’m glad she’s out of here before my innocent little Dorothy gets back. She doesn’t need that mindfuck a month before her birthday. She deserves to be happy. Excited. We all do.
* * *
Not twenty minutes after Mom speeds away in her tiny red Ferrari, the rest of the family loudly piles in through the garage door, laughing and debating something ridiculous per usual.
Fallon and I are in the living room, flipping channels, acting casual. I texted my dad that Mom left, off to her next parasitic relationship, but he didn’t respond, so I’m not sure he saw it. And not that I care what happens toRoger, but she’ll use him until he’s a shriveled-up husk and then move on to the next unfortunate bastard. It’s been her M.O. for the last five years, and we don’t want Sofie exposed.
“Bro beans!” my little sister exclaims as she skips into the living room and plops on the couch between us, giggling.
“Hey, sis.”
“Fallon,” she coos, looping her arm through his and resting her head on his shoulder. “How are you, my new favorite person slash possible future step-cousin? Your hair is looking extra blue and extra floppy today.”
“Sofie,” I huff in disbelief, laughing at her outrageous attempt at a compliment. She’s trying to use her quirky charms on him to butter him up for something she wants.
She just giggles, ignoring me. “You’d tell me if you knew where my surprise birthday party was going to be, right?”
