Page 3 of Sticks and Stones (Shadow Valley U)

What should I do?

I scan the grassy hill beyond the parking lot, wondering if I should just throw the package over there, but after turning back toward the snarling dog who is getting closer and closer, I know that isn’t a viable option.

Just then, my eyes focus on a big, black, brand-new F150 three spots down from Evan’s.

It’s Stone’s.

I know it’s his, because it is often outside Evan’s house, and not to mention, it is one of the nicest vehicles in the school parking lot. His rich daddy wanted the best for him.

I gasp.

His dad.

Stone’s father is the hotshot of the town, and if there is anyone who can change the direction of a court sentence, it’s him.

Stone will get a slap on the wrist.

I, on the other hand, with my last name having a reputation—no matter how smart I am and how good my grades are—will lose my academic scholarship, and I will be appointed some washed-up lawyer who won’t care what happens to my future.

I am not going to bring Evan down with me either.

The gravel beneath my knees is now digging into my back. I slither underneath Evan’s car and continue rolling. I’m staring up at the undercarriage of Stone’s truck. I gulp back the guilt I’m sure to be submerged in later this evening and slip the little package in the tiniest nook, knowing the drug dogs will still find it.

My father and Stone are both going to put big, red targets on my back for this.

I won’t be delivering the package to whatever druggie my father is dealing with, and Stone will no doubt know who was ballsy enough to put drugs in his truck with the police yards away.

But it really has nothing to do with being ballsy and everything to do with simply surviving.

CHAPTER2

STONE

Lunch hourat West Ridge High is always chaos. The administrators try to control it, as if they have any idea what control looks like. There’s a buzz that accompanies the cafeteria that is almost soothing. The chatter of hundreds, if not thousands of students crammed into the huge space.

We’re at the center of it. Me, Evan, and the rest of the upperclassmen on the hockey team. We reign supreme in this school, and everyone knows it. The other students watch us like we’re royalty—all because we’re good at hockey.

Evan and I met when we were thrown on the same hockey team as kids. My dad didn’t know what else to do with me, and he was desperate to distract me from the rest of our lives. Luckily for my father, Evan and I traded insults and clicked immediately.

I smirk at that thought. Not that he notices.

Evan started as a teammate and quickly became something akin to a brother. I swear, nowadays I spend more time at his house than my own.

I eye my best friend. He shifts in his seat, his gaze bouncing from the door to his food. There and back, like a fucking yo-yo. He’s ignoring the conversation of the guys around us, his brows slightly furrowed. Fidgeting.

Worried about hissister.

He got attached to Wren when she first arrived at his house as a malnourished kid, her dark hair greasy, her wide hazel eyes staring unblinkingly up at us.Us, because I was there, always hiding out at his house to escape my own—until she arrived, anyway. The weeks or months that she was there, I retreated.

It wasn’t like I wasn’t welcome. I still saw Evan all the time, hung out with him during the day, stayed over for dinner. But there was a definitive limit to how long his parents could handle three pre-teens, and I was usually the one to make things more chaotic.

Evan is worrying for nothing.

If that girl has to choose between sleep and food, nine times out of ten she picks the former. It’s as if she doesn’t sleep when she’s at her dad’s place, for reasons I can only imagine. She’s skinnier lately too. But the system has checks and balances for these kinds of things. If something is happening… I mean, she could be on one of those diets, trying to emulate the popular girls. She has a social worker to check in on her. If something is really wrong—again—they would take her out of there.

I snap my fingers in his face. “Cut it out, dude. She’s fine.”

He runs his hand down his face, and his attention drops to his tray. “Yeah.”

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