Page 11 of Secrets That Bind Us
I don’t know why I say what I say next– but fuck it. “I work at my uncle’s garage down on Seventh Street on the weekends. Plus, I get a thousand dollars a month from my mom alone for allowance. Which is ridiculous. I mostly end up putting it in the bank, but it's Mom’s way of apologizing for losing custody of me.” It’s a total lie– but she doesn’t need to know that. Nobody in this town has seen my mama in years. All for good reason.
See, her daddy may leave her mama and her bruised up where everyone can see, but my mom leaves her bruises deeper. My mama cuts and carves the very ventricles of my heart. Dad does the same, but in different ways.
Verity's eyes soften– the glare replaced by something that isn't pity. It's understanding. And thank God, because I don't think I could stand it if she ever pitied me.
I don’t move my eyes from her, taking in the way she nervously cups the hem of the sleeves of her oversized hoodie that reaches her mid-thigh. I want to ask her if it’s Micah’s, so I can replace it with one of mine. Because she is mine. “So what’s it going to be, Verity?”
“I guess I can tutor the other students during study hall at the library during lunch and while you practice after school.”
That’s absolutely the wrong thing to say to me. But that’s fine. I’ll find a way. We have study hall and lunch at the same hours. I just gotta figure out where the goddamn library is first. I’ll do anything to keep Verity away from that snitch Micah. The fucker that ruined everything for me– including taking her from me.
If only I’d known he’d find a way to do it again just two years later.
Because that snitchknew. He knew I was gonna make her mine, and he just couldn’t handle it. Seeing them kiss on the Ferris wheel had been my breaking point. I had stayed away until I could break up with Tiffany. Matter of fact, Iwasbreaking up with Tiffany because I was so tired of her and her bullshit– when she decided that under the bleachers was the right time and place to-
“Dinner’s ready! Y’all c’mon and set the table!”
Verity sighs, looking down at the money, still not picking it up. “Coming!”
And hearing her screamthat? Made me buzz way more than it ought to have.
I find the goddamn library, and no fucking wonder I never knew where it was – it was by the band hall. The good thing is – I found the library just in time, because Micah is sitting in on their little study session.
I pull up a chair and shove it between her and Zoey, sitting backwards, draping my arms over the back of the chair. I pull an apple out of my backpack and take a bite. “What’s going on here?”
Their eyes widen, but hers close. “Dean,” there it is again. That tortured plea sound. It makes my dick throb a bit. “What are you doing here?”
“You said you tutor during study hall. This don’t look much like tutoring.”
She sighs. “No, we're making plans to go to the art festival in Austin next weekend. Evan’s dad and mine are going to the auction held down there every year, but this year both are taking place there at the same time. So, we’re either taking Evan’s truck or Zoey’s brother’s Jeep.”
“I like art.” It’s a half-lie. I like art that I canunderstand. Abstract shit is weird. How am I supposed to know what the artist is trying to say when it’s a cardboard box painted blue? The other girls at the table giggle, and I can see the steam coming out of Micah's ears. Verity does her best to not laugh at me by pushing up her glasses in that Verity way. “Like the guy that cut his ear off. I like him.” I prove.
“Van Gogh.” She says.
“Well, we can Car-go too, but I’m pretty sure it’s called carpool.”
This time they all burst out in laughter, and the librarian shushes them, saying that there’s no eating allowed in here. I reply I’m a growing quarterback and need to eat constantly if I’m getting us to the play-offs– to which she rolls her eyes. But it works.
“No. The artist that cut off his ear. His name was Vincent Van Gogh.” She explains.
I’m an idiot. “Oh. So when are we Gogh-ing?”
They pass a look amongst each other and then, the girl I'm obsessed with sighs.“Dean, can I talk to you?” Verity says, getting up from the table and heading toward one of the taller bookshelves so we’ll be hidden.
I follow. “What’s up?”
“Look, I appreciate that you’re taking the initiative and wanting to learn more, but this… it’s just not your scene. You like football, and motorcycles, and… getting laid and parties.”
“Micah doesn’t?”
“He plays football, yeah, but Micah’s… different. He plays football because his dad makes him. Not because it’s what he wants to do with his life.”
I don’t like that. The way she’s trying to let me down slowly. “Maybe I’m different.”
Verity grimaces, shaking her head.
“What? You think I’m bad? You think what? I got caught having sex on school grounds, so I must be some kind of sex addict?”
