Page 72 of Tutoring the Bad Boy
Then I run.
I don’t know how far or how long I run until I finally collapse on the beach as the sun is descending behind the ocean. I’m spent. Emotionally. Mentally. And now physically. At some point, I’ve lost my bookbag and all I have on is a t-shirt and jeans.
The wind whips through my hair and dries what little tears I have left. I should be freezing, but I’m numb. I ache all over. My heart is bleeding, and I’ve never been so lost in my life. I feel like I’ve been yanked off my feet, turned upside down, and shaken.
What do I do now? Kaleb used me, but my mom is the root of everything that’s happened to me. Anytime I disagree with her, she says I’m being difficult. There’s no argument. No compromise. Nothing. She has her thumb on me, grinding me into powder.
The despair is being devoured by anger. It bubbles and boils, turning to acid and rising so fast I feel it burning the back of my throat. I’ve been diligent, obedient, hardworking, and everything else she’s expected of me. I don’t want to kill my chances of going to college on a scholarship, and I’m not going to—by now, Texas Tech, College of Charleston, and the University of Texas have my application. There were a few others, but those three are really the only ones I want. The only way I’m getting away from her is by keeping those options open.
That doesn’t mean I can’t make my mom’s life a living nightmare. By the time graduation rolls around, she’ll be helping me pack, if not just flat-out tossing me out. I’m done. I’m done being understanding. I’m done caring. I’m done with all of it. She might not want a war, but she’s getting one.
Imogene Gray just became a beast off the court too.
Chapter Thirty
Kaleb
“It’s beena month since you spoke to me,” my ex-best friend Chris says as he walks onto the outdoor basketball court not far from The Hut.
I say nothing because I’ve said all I’m going to. I’ve said little to anyone, including my dad. Though I haven’t been antagonist about it. It’s not his fault my girlfriend was a cheater.
Girlfriend.
The ball in my hand almost slips from my grip as the word tears through my heart. Seeingherat school has been killing me. It takes all I have to keep her name off my lips and out of my thoughts. I work to look indifferent if I accidentally catch her gaze when we’re passing each other in the hallway.
Since that night I received the photos in the text, I haven’t spoken to her. I especially have nothing to say to her.
“Man, come on. Are you ever going to tell me what happened?” Chris asks.
“You know what happened,” I blurt and grumble to myself. I’m not speaking to him.
I hold the ball, eyeing the hoop, and then Chris is standing directly in front of me. “You owe me at least a reason why you stopped talking to me.”
“No, I don’t.” I tip my chin toward the exit. “Now get off my court.”
“No. You want to know what’s really weird? Dixie isn’t speaking to me either…or to Ginny.” Chris sets his hands on his hips. “Just tell me what I did. Believe me, if I knew, I wouldn’t be here.”
Why am I even staying here? I turn to walk off the court, but I don’t get two steps before Chris is blocking me again. “Kaleb, man, we’ve been friends since we were in kindergarten. What happened?”
“You kissed my girlfriend!” I don’t even bother keeping my voice down.
Chris’s eyes shut as he shakes his head. “What are you talking about?”
Really? He’s still going to play innocent? I snatch my phone out of my shorts and shove it into his hand. “How about look at those photos Ginny sent me, then tell me it’s not what I think.”
He eyes me a second and then looks at my phone. “Where did these come from?”
A bark of laughter pours out of me. “Right.”
“Dude, this selfie of me and Ginny was from last year. We were in the same class. Our teacher made us take that. Actually, she made us take two pictures. One at the beginning of the year and one at the end. We were supposed to go back to the first and talk about the changes we saw in each other. Just a weird little class assignment neither of us understood.”
I cock my head. “Whatever,” I say and try to snatch my phone back.
Chris dodges. “No. There are explanations for all of these. You can ask Greg Dimitrios because he was in that class too.” He dodges another one of my attempts to take my phone back. “And this one of us hugging is from after winter break.”
“I knew it.”
“She texted me asking what I thought about your Christmas gift. She was nervous about getting you something like that, thinking it might be lame. ‘Kaleb Quinn, Licensed Architect.’”
