Page 41 of No Perfect Love

I know that. I just didn’t think anyone else did.

“It’s a secret,” Lucas goes on. Then he shocks me by winking. “It’s our secret though.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” I hold out my hand after standing up, offering it to him.

Lucas takes it, trusting me, and bringing just a little bit of brightness to this shitty ass day.

While Bria walks out with Lucas, I stand by Avery’s side and watch them go.

I don’t know what to say, or how to say anything, because this has been the shittiest day I’ve had in Birch since burying my brother.

“You’re going to help him because of me?” Her voice is low, scared, and I know this is one more chance I have to fuck things up between us.

“No.” I tell her the truth, knowing it’s more important than protecting her feelings. “I knew, from the moment you brought him back to the office with you, that you would do anything to keep him safe. But you’re not prepared to help someone who’s been through what he has.” My chest starts to ache while I give her this tiny little piece of me. “And I am. It’s what I did, in California. I took the cases that no one else could deal with. The ones where the kids were hurt. Where there wasn’t a hope for them to heal. And I did my best.”

“She hurt him, Carter.” Avery sniffles. “She hurt him, and I didn’t see it. I wish I’d hurt her. That day you almost arrested me. I wish… I wish I could have kept him from hurting.”

“I know.” I place my hand over hers, and I look down into the face I couldn’t get out of my dreams. “That’s what makes you so amazing, Avery. But I can help him. I can try my best. I’m doing it because it’s what I’m good at.”

“Okay.” She nods, and then wipes a tear from the corner of her eye before it can fall. “I meant what I said before. I should have called you, or sent a text, or a smoke signal. I want to have dinner with you. I’m just… scared. But after today, it’s stupid for me to be scared of letting you in.”

“Then let me in, Avery. I promise, I’m not gonna hurt you. At least, not on purpose.”

“I’m not worried about you hurting me, Carter.” She starts to walk back toward the hall that houses the classrooms. “Nothing can hurt me, not anymore.”

15

CARTER

“Are you sure you have everything?” Mom is standing at the door, holding the last of the bags from Target that I sent her for before I got off work. “I don’t mind staying and putting things away if the two of you want to go to the store and get more.”

Lucas is already staring at the clothes, books, linens, and furniture that my parents got for him with an open mouth and an unusual sense of astonishment.

“No, Ma. I’m pretty sure you got everything but the kitchen sink.” I give Lucas a wink when I catch his attention. “But if I think of anything else I’ll let you know.”

She’s gone, but not before giving both of us a familiar long look.

“You can return all of this,” Lucas says once we’re all alone.

There’s something sad in his voice. Like he’s a little kid whose every single gift has vanished into thin air. Like he doesn’t feel as though he deserves anything good in this life, so he’s not going to let himself get attached to any of it.

“This is yours.” Instead of taking a seat on the couch next to him, I lean against the wall and nod at all of the bags and boxes. “No matter what happens, or where you decide to go after this, at least you have some possessions to take with you.”

He stares at me with an intensity that he should never have to know, and I can feel the seconds drag out between us.

“How long can I stay?”

Lucas isn’t the first kid to ask me that question. Not even the tenth. But this time, the answer doesn’t slip out of my mouth the way it has in the past.

“Did you know that when I got done playing football, I decided that I wanted to help people.” I don’t look away from Lucas.

This moment is important, for both of us.

“I wanted to help people who were hurt. And in making that decision, I found out that the people hurt the most are kids.” I swallow and wait a beat before going on. “There are kids who have been hurt beyond belief. Scarred on their skin just as deeply as they’ve been scarred in their hearts. Every single kid that I’ve helped has asked me a form of that question. They’ve asked how long they can stay, how long until they have to go back, if anyone is going to find them where I put them to keep them safe.”

“Why- why are you telling me?” I can see the fear in his eyes, and it vibrates through the air around us as his fingers tremble while he tries to keep calm.

“Because the answer, before tonight, has always been the same. It’s always been that they can stay until I find them somewhere better. Somewhere safer for them. Somewhere that they can finally have a home.”

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