Page 38 of What Is Love
“I’m not sure,” I said. I’d been in middle school at the time and hadn’t cared enough to commit every detail to memory when I’d overheard everyone gossiping about it. “What school do you go to?”
“Summerhaven Public. It’s an all-right school. Good football team. We totally kicked your football team’s ass,” he said smugly. “Do you have any piercings or tattoos?”
“I just have my ears pierced.” I tucked my hair behind one ear so he could see one of the simple gold studs I had in. “What drew you to draw comics?”
“I’ve always loved reading comics. Was obsessed with superheroes as a kid. One day, I was at the comic bookstore, and I saw a flyer for drawing classes they had there two nights a week. I could only afford to go for a few weeks, but it was all I needed to get started. Since then, I’ve self-taught with videos on the internet.”
“I did a lot of self-teaching with videos, too,” I said. “My mother wouldn’t let me take classes. When I heard they were bringing on an art teacher at Kendry and she would be teaching drawing, I was so excited. I signed up for beginner drawing mysophomore year. About halfway through that school year, Ms. Clark insisted that I sign up for her advanced class the following year. It felt good to hear. Like everything I had done to learn and keep drawing in my life up to that point was worth it.”
“Why wouldn’t your mom let you take classes?” he asked.
I shrugged. “My time was better spent elsewhere.”
He looked baffled by that, but didn’t pry into the subject further. “What made you choose charcoal?”
That question felt like a knock on a door best left locked and forgotten. I looked away.
“It’s okay,” he reassured me. “What’s your favorite food?”
The burger and fries the other day had been very good, but I wouldn’t say they were my favorite. I thought about it some more. “Strawberries.”
His brow rose a little, as if he didn’t quite believe me. “Strawberries?”
“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “I really like how sweet and sometimes tart they are. When I’m allowed to have fruit, I always go for the strawberries.”
His chin lifted from his arms as he frowned at me. “Allowed?”
I went still. I couldn’t help it, but I was able to school my face. “I misspoke,” I said, trying to sound like it wasn’t a big deal. “Why do you live with Roe?”
“I—” He looked like I’d thrown him a little.
Based on Roe’s reaction earlier, I knew it was a very personal question. Normally, I wouldn’t have asked, but I was a little desperate and it had been the first thing to pop into my head. Feeling like I’d messed up yet again, I twisted and fiddled with the dainty gold rings I had on some of my fingers. “You don’t have to answer.”
This interaction was a big reminder of why I didn’t have any close friends.
He stared down at my hands in my lap. “My mom overdosed when I was ten. My dad, who was the one who got her hooked on cocaine, got caught with a shit ton of it when I was seven and has been in prison ever since. I went to live with my grandpa after my mom died.” He pointed at the framed photos of him and the old gentleman on the floating shelves behind me. “Lived with him until he passed away from leukemia when I was sixteen. Noble and Roe took me in after that.”
Now I felt like an asshole for asking. “Telling youI’m sorryseems like an inadequate thing to say.”
We both glanced toward his bedroom window, which had the blinds closed, when we heard a motorcycle pull up outside.Roe must be back.
Wyatt stared back at me with a small, sad smile. “People say that when they either don’t know what to say or truly feel sorry for me.”
Even though I felt sad for him, I didn’t think it’d make him feel better to know that. “I watched my father die when I was six.” That was the first time I had ever said that out loud. That I had seen it. Not even Mother knew. I thought that if she ever did, she’d bury me next to Noah Kendry. So why was I all right telling Wyatt? “He…” I trailed off, hating what I had to say next. “He fell down the stairs and broke his neck.”
Wyatt’s eyes widened. “Shit.”
I began fiddling with my rings again. “Yeah. And a few days ago I found out that he wasn’t even my biological father.” So many secrets and lies. If I hadn’t known I bled when cut, I would have assumed secrets and lies would be what spilled out of me. Letting go of a few felt as good as it felt nerve-racking.
“Do you know who your bio dad is?” he asked.
“I only know his name.” I debated for a second whether or not it was a good idea to tell him. The odds of Wyatt knowing him were very low. “His name is?—”
“Where’s Roe?” a voice interrupted me.
I looked toward the door. Reid was standing there, arms crossed, whiskey eyes locked on me. He was wearing a black leather jacket over a dark red T-shirt, black jeans, and black boots. His arms were folded over his chest, and he didn’t look happy to see me.
“He ran to the bar. I’m surprised you didn’t run into each other. Shouldn’t you still be at work?” Wyatt said.
