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“I see him around school, but we don’t talk.” Jace doesn’t look at me.Doesn’t even acknowledge my existence. It’s a good thing, I suppose. If he doesn’t think about me, then maybe he’ll forget about what my mother did to him. I know he hasn’t told anyone—yet—because I would’ve heard it from Sammy by now.
I contemplated telling Dad about my brief run-in with Jace when he called to check how my first day of school was, but I wasn’t sure how Dad would react. Sometimes he’s all “suck it up, princess,” and other times, he acts as if he’ll take an axe to someone for sneezing in my direction.
Regardless, I ride on the side of the road now. Jace passes me every morning, like clockwork. He never waves. Never smiles. Never even slows down. Maybe he thinks I’m as crazy as my mother…
“You know,” Dad says, and then he pauses, clearly hesitating. “Your mom is just… she’s…”
“It’s okay,” I assure, “we don’t need to talk about it.”
“Yeah, but maybe I should go over there and apologize to him.”
I roll my eyes, even though he can’t see me. “Don’t you ever get sick of apologizing for her? Ortoher?”
“She’s my wife, Low,” Dad says, “And she’s your mother, and she lost?—”
“I lost him too,” I cut in. “And I knowyouunderstand that, but it would be nice if she recognized that too.”
Dad sighs, scratching at his beard. Then he jerks his head, motioning over my shoulder. “You got company.”
“What?” I turn swiftly and immediately lose my breath. Jace is here, walking toward us with his hands in his pockets, dressed in what I’ve worked out is his usual attire—black basketball shorts and black wrinkled shirt. If I hadn’t known that Jace was some amazing baller everyone seemed to adore, and I was to judge him based on his appearance alone, I would’ve bet all my money on the loner, stoner, gamer boy. It doesn’t help his cause that every time I’ve seen him outside of class, he’s usually on his own, focused on some handheld game thing. Even at school, he doesn’t hang around the rest of the jocks, doesn’t sit at their table, doesn’t really interact with them at all. The boy is anenigma—and I haven’t quite decided if I care enough to want to solve the mystery that surrounds him.
“Hey…” he says, stopping a few feet away from me. It’s as close as he’s ever been, at least that I can appreciate, and he’s so tall, so built, and he actually looks at me this time, asking, “Can we talk?”
“Um…” I look between him and my dad, confused. “What about?”
His gaze shifts, and he subtly motions to my dad. “It’s kind of… awkward.”
Yeah…no. “Whatever you have to say, you can say it in front of my dad,” I tell him, standing taller.
“I really don’t think you want that.”
It almost sounds like a threat, but the guy doesn’t even know me, so how bad could it be? It’s not as if I’ve done anything to be ashamed of, and the things that I have done, my dad already knows about. “Go ahead.”
Jace shifts from one foot to the other, contemplating. Finally, his shoulders drop and, shaking his head, he mutters, “There are rumors you screwed your brother’s assistant coach back in Dallas. He was, like, forty or something? I don’t know. Don’t care. But now all the boys at school think you’re easy, and they have a bet going on who can bag you first. There’s a cash pool. Different tiers, different prizes. It goes tits, blowjob, sex.” He shrugs. “Just thought you should know.”
Life: 1, Me: 0.
I look over at my dad, unsure of what to expect. His face gives nothing away, but at least he hasn’t reached for the gun he keeps in his truck. “Told you I should’ve homeschooled,” I deadpan.
Dad sighs. “Yeah, but then you’d never leave the house, and you need to socialize.”
“Like a new puppy?”
Dad ignores my smartass comment and focuses on Jace. “Are you going to do anything about it?” Dad asks.
“Dad,” I scoff. “It’s really not his problem.”
“They’rehisfriends,” Dad retorts.
Jace shoves his hands deeper into his pockets. “They’re really not.”
Dad looks from him to me, and I look from Dad to him, and Jacelooks at the ground, the sky, anywhere but at me. This lasts for five long seconds until, surprisingly, Jace is the one to break the silence. “Have you guys seen my basketball?”
Dad laughs once, almost in shock. “Nope.” He peers over at me. “You seen it, Low?”
“No,” I lie, but swear, the way Jace looks at me—his eyes narrowed, head tilted slightly… it’s as if he sees right through my bullshit.
Without another word, Jace turns on his heels and walks away.