Page 73 of Angel
“Amber, I think… And Brooke Melton.”
I looked down at my hands. I had no recollection of this event. Probably not because I’d repressed the memory. Probably because I was too much of a Goody Two-Shoes at that age to even think of committing such a heinous crime.
Or what I would have considered to be a heinous crime at the time.
No, I probably spent the night at home reading or drawing comics in my room.
“Where is everyone?” Lia asked her mother.
“They took off somewhere,” she answered with a shrug. “Oh, did you cut your hair?”
Lia briefly touched the shoulder length waves. “Yeah, like six inches. You didn’t notice?”
“It’s not that different.”
Lia’s lips pursed slightly.
Sophia spoke up. “I like the bangs. They’re kind of seventies style.”
“Thanks,Sophia,” she pointedly replied.
Thundering footsteps beat down the hallway. Franko and Tre jogged into the kitchen, both of them going so fast they nearly bumped into the island.
“Aw, it’s Lia!” Franko whooped in exaggeration. He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her off the ground. She beat against his shoulder.
“Put me down! You two sound like a herd of elephants.”
Franko complied. Lia straightened her top and brushed hair from her face.
“How’s it going, Lia?” Tre asked, taking a small step backwards.
“Fine,” she answered, turning away and headed for the fridge.
“We playing football yet?” Franko asked the room.
I exchanged a glance with Sophia. She shrugged. “I’m in.”
“I’ll probably fall flat on my ass,” I explained. “But I’m down for giving it a go.”
Over at the fridge, Lia snickered. I glanced over at her, but she busied herself with opening a bottle of water.
Was I just imagining it, or did Lia seem less than thrilled to find me at her parents’ house?
But no. That couldn’t be. She didn’t even know me. Not really.
Sure, we’d known each other years ago, but I still didn’t remember any of that. If I’d had to guess, I probably was the third wheel whenever she and Sophia got together to hang out.
So maybe something that happened when we were teens put her off.
But that didn’t seem enough reason to hold a grudge into adulthood.
My stomach twisted. I watched the easygoing trip I’d gotten to believe in for about twenty minutes head right down the drain.
Numb, I followed the group down the hall.
Angelo waited in the foyer, mine and his coats in his arms. The bright smile on his face drew me in and comforted me instantly. A secure and reliable blanket, one that blocked out the world, made the noise outside muffle. That’s what he was to me.
“They’re playing football,” he explained.
