Page 33 of Sweet Punk
Ryleigh blows out a stream of air through her pursed lips. “That was a lot to unpack. And I have a feeling you hide this shit from people. Am I right?”
“Obviously.”
“In fact, that may have been the most you’ve said to me… like ever.”
“Maybe.” I smirk at her.
“So, I guess my advice—you are looking for advice, right?—would be to be honest with her about whatever those hang-ups are. Be clear up front. That might not even mean explaining all the details, though, the closer you get, the more it’s going to make sense to tell her what you’re dealing with up in that brilliant noggin of yours.”
I catch the corner of my lip with my teeth. “I think Star understood that if things were going to happen between us that it had to be on my terms, but—” I groan. “I want to be a fuckin’ normal guy for once. Is that too much to ask?”
Ryleigh cocks her head to the side. “Eh. But you wouldn’t be the person you are today without your life experiences, Kellan. All you can do is work with what you’ve been given. And if she’s the right girl for you, she’ll understand. Really, are any of us ‘normal’? Or do we just hide our shit from each other?” With a press of her lips together, she pokes her finger at the bridge of her glasses, moving them back into place. “And I happen to think you’re pretty cool. Obviously, so does Star.” She raises one arched brow at me, waiting for me to agree.
“Yeah.” I blow out a hard breath. “Okay.”
“All you can do is be honest with her, take things slow, and try.”
“I gue—” A commotion makes me stop mid-word.
“Kellan?” Star’s panicked voice greets my ears from the far side of the room. “Sorry. Sorry. Do you know where Kellan Murphy is?”
My eyes meet Ryleigh’s wide ones. “Over here.” I move swiftly toward the door, a lump rising in my throat. “I’m right here.” I duck and weave through everyone’s artwork. We’re spread out all over the damn room.
“Kellan?” The way she chokes out my name again is like a dagger to my heart. She’s close to breaking down. I can tell.
When I finally catch sight of her, my heart misses a beat, then thuds hard. Her hair is untamed, her face deathly pale, and her eyes are wild and scared. What the fuck happened? I catch her to my chest without a thought and hold her tightly. Her fingers clutch at the back of my shirt.
Breathe. You can handle this. You have a shirt on. She’s not touching your scars.My throat tight, I rasp, “I’m here, I’ve got you. I’ve got you, Star.”
She shakes her head, unable to speak for several seconds as her body quakes against mine. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she gasps out.
There are curious stares and whispers from my fellow classmates, and I feel the immediate need to protect her from their prying eyes as she breaks down. I hurry with her toward the far side of the room, winding our way to where Ryleigh and I have our stations.
From somewhere behind me, I hear Ryleigh. “Nothing to see here. Carry on, people. You’ve got three paintings due next week. I’m sure you’ve got better things to do.”
Finally reaching my private corner of the room, I help her sit in the chair that Ryleigh had been sitting in moments earlier. I squat down in front of her, touching a few fingers to her chin, and tip her face to mine.
“K-Kellan, he w-was in my room. W-waiting for me.” The stutter in her voice twists my gut, and because I’m so thrown off by it, I almost miss what she actually said.
I draw in a careful breath. “What are you talking about?” From beside me, Ryleigh holds out a bottle of water out toward us. “Thanks.” I take it from her and loosen the cap before placing it in Star’s hands.
She uncaps it and lifts the bottle to her lips, the shaking of her hand visible. “I have something to talk to you about. But maybe I should wait and do it all at once. It’s something I should share with all of you. Because he’s making sure all of you are involved. He’s quietly poking at everyone I’m close to, just to prove he fucking can.”
“Whoa.” Ryleigh’s face colors. “Sorry. I’m sure you didn’t intend for me to weigh in. But what the hell?”
Star’s gaze flicks over to Ryleigh, almost like she’s only just realized Ryleigh’s observing. Star gives her a small smile and heaves out a breath. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Who are you talking about?” I softly breathe out the question as my heart thunders in my chest, thinking about what Star’s told us so far. Someone’s got her all kinds of freaked out. In my mind, I flash through so many instances where her fear has been downright palpable. The fire alarms. When she thinks someone is following her. The dude that was feeling her up that she thought was me. And immediately following, the disaster we found her room in. And then there’s the other stuff. The odd note under our door, the miscommunication about Raven’s scholarship, the matchbooks that keep popping up all over the place.
“My stepbrother.” She tucks a few pieces of hair behind her ear. “He’s psycho. That’s the short story.”
Stepbrother.I automatically bristle. “You didn’t mention him when we were talking about our families.” She’s telling me that someone who is close to her instills a level of fear in her that inspired me to paint that terror I’d seen in her eyes. I glance at Ryleigh, then at the painting in question. Her eyes widen, but she clamps her lips shut.
I clear my throat, trying not to fly off the handle like every nerve in my body is telling me to do. “Did he hurt you? Touch you?”
Star is clearly rocked by whatever transpired. She closes her eyes at the same time her right hand runs over the bicep of her left arm, then to the nape of her neck. “I, um. He yanked my door open while I was trying to unlock it. My keys—” She pats her chest where her lanyard would normally hang. “Shit. He might have my keys, Kellan.”
“Don’t worry about that right now.” He’s obviously been able to pick the locks just like Hawk and Maddox, so whether or not he has her keys is kind of a moot point, and the locks are only there to maintain an illusion of safety. In reality, these girls are sitting ducks if this guy wants to come into their suite. Moving to the side, I brush her hair away from her neck, wincing at the abrasion on her nape from the lanyard cord. “Okay, so the lanyard pulled and broke when he yanked the door open.”
