Page 17 of Our Darkest Summer
Converse Girl.I squeezed my eyes shut trying to remember why I found it so familiar.
Braxton Lee. He had called me that at the party. And fair enough, as I opened the message his earlier one was there as well, just above it. I saved his number into my contacts.
ME
Why the nickname?
I typed back, and his answer came almost instantly.
BRAXTON
i met u twice yesterday and both times u wore two different pairs. i’m creative
I snorted. The other text was from a newly added number, as well.
AALIYAH
Had so much fun last night!! What would u say to a proper tour around town? Maybe today??? Around ten?? text me. xx
A small smile curved on my lips as I texted Aaliyah back.
ME
I’m in
Then I locked my screen, and grabbed the blanket, which somehow ended up on the floor. I laid it over Connor, and then dragged myself out into the kitchen.
Thomas was already there, sitting at the kitchen island with a sandwich and a book in his hands. He wore a white T-shirt, which looked unreasonably spotless, and gray sweatpants. My eyes lingered on the latter maybe a little too long before I realized I was practically drooling and turned myself away.
“How long were you out there?” I asked, pouring myself a glass of water and keeping my eyes strictly on the glass.
“Good morning to you too,” he replied, and I made a face.
“I just woke up after serving as your brother’s pillow all night. So maybe it’s good for you, but so far, I’m not a fan.” I emptied the glass with a long sip, and Thomas lifted a brow at me. I shook my head. “So, why did it take hours for you to come back inside?” I asked again, but he just took another bite of his sandwich and turned a page like he hadn’t heard me. “You didn’thurt him, did you?” I asked, and he raised his eyes at me over his plate.
“Think so little of me?” he asked, closing his book.
Well, I did see him cause a few bloodbaths on ice, but no. I knew he wouldn’t hurt someone without a reason. As much as I wanted to hate him, he wasn’t his father.
“I highly doubt that’s what really interests you,” he added, brushing his dark waves out of his forehead.
He was right. It wasn’t.
“Did the thing you left to do before the party have anything to do with Kevin’s dad being the town’s chief?” I asked, and he pushed his chair back, standing up.
I did some research last night while we waited for him. And it turned out it was none other than Kevin’s grandfather who worked on Thomas’ mom’s case. If you can call that single day, working on it.
Without answering he put his empty plate into the sink. I was still waiting for him to confirm what I suspected, when he turned and walked up the stairs. I moved instantly, following him. He already walked away from me once without answers. I won’t let that happen again.
“Come on, tell me,” I nagged, and he grumbled something under his breath I couldn’t hear.
“There’s nothing to tell, Kinsley,” he added a moment later, then, without another word, he opened his bedroom door—the one Connor had pointed out to me yesterday. He almost closed it in my face, but I slipped inside under his arm.
The walls were painted a deep blue, and a massive bed took up a good portion of the space, hockey team logos covering the wall above. But what really caught my attention was the bookshelf across from the bed. A huge wooden structure filled to the brim.
“Is this all yours?” I asked, stepping toward it, and brushing my fingers along the dust-speckled spines.
I didn’t hear him move, but suddenly, I felt him behind me.
