Page 52

At that, he outright laughed. “I’m not just a dumb jock.”

No, he wasn’t. I kind of felt safer in my fantasy world where he was. “What are you then?” I asked, watching him closely.

He seemed taken aback by the question. “I’m just a guy. A normal, everyday nice guy, who is occasionally good at hitting to the outfield.”

By then my bag was packed. “All right, Mr. Normal. Take me home.”

We went back downstairs and out the door. Had I learned anything? Other than getting confirmation of the widely known fact that Danny was an ass-grabber? Not yet. Some detective I was turning out to be.

I decided to go for broke in the car. “You said your mom was off at church…but she’s cool with you having big parties?”

“After raising two other Bisons—she knows we’re going to drink. She’d rather we do it somewhere safe, like at home.”

“Your house is safe?”

“Sure.” My credulous tone made him look at me. “Last weekend was a fluke. I feel bad Lacey drank too much, but really, between my brothers and me, we’ve had at least fifty parties, and that’s the first time anyone ever called the cops.”

“You know Lacey?” I asked.If so, how well?

He twisted to give me a look. “You two are only a few lockers down from me. I’m not blind. I just wish she’d come to me instead of calling the police.”

“But everyone’s saying you hate her.”

“Well everyone isn’t actually me. I’m on ZB too, you know? One or two of those pictures were funny—but no one needs to beat the bottom of a dogpile. My brothers ganged up on me enough to know that.”

“I don’t suppose you could just tell people to back off?” I asked, trying to look as charming and innocent as I could, entirely sure I was not pulling it off.

“How? Want me to take over the intercom some morning, and tell the whole school to be nicer, kindergarten-style?”

I opened up my mouth to offer suggestions and found there weren’t any. If the cruelty cat was out of the bag, it was almost impossible to shove back in. “I guess not.”

“Yeah—you think of something, you let me know.” He pulled off the highway onto my exit.

I didn’t think he’d done it—but I was sure that every guy who had done it had someone else who thought that about them. Their girlfriend, their sister, their mother—and each of those women were wrong.

Whether Liam had done it or not though, he was still the key to the baseball team—and I would find out more if I knew him longer. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and most historical spy missions lasted longer than an evening.

“What’re you reading in English?” I asked.

“To Kill a Mockingbird. I’m, uh, having problems with the themes. I’m only barely making a B.”

A) Half of every essay in English ever was just making shit up, which I could tell Liam should have no problem with and B) themes, in that book? Really? He had to be kidding.

Or. He. Wanted. To. Hang. Out. With. Me. For. Some. Reason.

“Well if you need help let me know.”

“You’ve read it?”

“Yeah. A few years ago. For fun.”

“Figures.” He pulled the truck into a right hand turn into the trailer park, swaying slightly toward me. “You know, you’re confusing.”

“How so?”

“Most girls kind of worship me. You seem—a little hostile, to be honest.”

“That says more about you than it does about me.”