Page 75 of Withered

Well, that’s good, isn’t it?” I ask him cautiously.

“No. I hate that fucking asshole.” His fist clenches and unclenches, turning his knuckles white.

“You don’t mean that,” I say warily.

“I fucking do.” He is more irritated than angry.

I stay silent, not knowing what to say. His father seems like a sensitive topic.

He exhales and says, “My mum and dad are divorced. He is now married to another woman. That’s why you’ve never seen him around the house.”

Now I get it.He goes on, “I am angrier at my mum. Why the fuck is she even talking to him?”

“Maybe you should give him a chance,” I suggest.

If Esme, Jake’s mom, is in contact with him, that could mean she forgave him or let go of the past. I can’t tell. At this point, I’m only assuming.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he scoffs.

“Look, I get it. You don’t like him at all. But at least give him a chance. What’s the worst that could happen? You won’t talk again, but you are not talking to him now.” I try to explain, even though I have no idea what I’m saying. My mouth is uttering things before my brain can process them.

He looks at me as if I told him to murder someone. A little smile curves his lip, and I dance internally. Then he says, “Nope.”

“Argh!” I bury my face in my hands. “Fine. Do whatever you want. You are impossible.”

He shrugs his shoulders.

“Wanna go home or stay here for the rest of the night?” He asks.

I gaze up at the stars, which are blazing brightly in the dark sky. “Trust me, I can stay here all night.”

I glimpse him from the corner of my eye. He copies my posture as he leans back on the bench. “I can stare at them for hours and never get bored. They are just so exquisite.”

“Yeah. Exquisite,” he says it quietly with an unknown expression.

When I turn to look at him, he is already looking at me. His eyes are stunning. The lamppost casts a little light, and his eyes twinkle, making a perfect view.

He abruptly stands up and says, “Let’s go home. It’s getting late. We’ve been out for hours now.”

I nod, stand up, dust my jeans, and follow Jake to the exit.

We pile into our cars and head home.

Once I’m done parking my car, I find Jake leaning against his car, one hand in his pocket, and the other tapping on his phone.

“I thought you left,” I say.

He puts his phone away. “I am thinking of going to Tyler’s.”

“I’d say no. Kristy will be there,” I tell him and add, “You don’t want to be a third-wheeler.”

It’s fun to imagine Kristy giving him a good earful. Wow. But she won’t say anything to his beautiful face.

“Uh, you can stay here. That is, if you want to,” I suggest.

“Are you sure?” He asks.

“Yeah.” I nod.

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