Page 112 of Let You Love Me

I shoot to my feet and kick my locker with a bang, startling everyone around. “Fucking hell!”

I yank a clean T-shirt from my locker and wrap it around my palm to stanch the bleeding while Tommy’s eyes flare. “Dude, that’s alotof blood.”

Bryce peeks over my shoulder. “Fuck, man. You need stitches.”

Thank you, Captain Obvious.

I lean my forehead against the cold metal of my locker as I try to come to terms with the situation. The simple fact is I’m supposed to be at Lane’s in less than ten minutes and if I stop for stitches, I’ll never make it. I don’t have time to clean up this mess, let alone get myself to the ER and back.

I inhale, hoping clearer thoughts will prevail as I debate my options. I can’t even text Lane to let her know what happened because my phone is shit, and I don’t have her number memorized.

Fucking technology.

I curse as I envision Lane waiting for me at her house with Sophie dressed in her costume, and then I imagine her disappointment when I don’t show.

She’ll think I don’t give a shit.

She’ll think I forgot or chose to do something else instead.

I know Lane well enough to realize all her defenses will rise, and it won’t matter how much I reassure her after the fact that it couldn’t have been prevented, my not showing up for her when I told her I’d be there will plant a seed of doubt.

I glance over my shoulder to the back of Chance fucking Lockhart’s head as he chats with Manzetti.

I have no idea how the hell he would know I have plans with Lane tonight. Maybe it was just a coincidence, or maybe it was carefully calculated. Either way, I’ll be damned if I let him win.

I grind my molars and crouch back over the glass, this time, taking it a little slower as I pick up the glass with my good hand, keeping the now blood-covered shirt clenched in my other.

Once I finish cleaning up the glass, I quickly set off to find Mark and try to convince him to help me use some butterfly bandages to help close the wound.

“It needs stitches,” he insists.

I nod, my mouth tight. It hurts like a bitch and if the fucking gallon of blood I’ve lost is any indication, it’s obvious I needstitches but I don’t much care. “I know. But I have somewhere to be, so if you could just help me and take care of it, that would be great.”

“Man, you really need to go to the ER.”

“Please.” I clench my jaw, breathing through my nose as I try to calm myself. “Just . . . do this now and I promise I’ll get stitches in an hour or two, as soon as I’m able.”

He stares at me for a moment before he sighs, and I know I have him. “Fine,” he says, “but if Coach finds out about this and asks, I did no such thing. I’m not taking responsibility if you don’t make good on your word and your hand is fucked up in the morning.”

I nod as he unwinds the T-shirt wrapped around my palm. “Absolutely. It’s all on me, but I’ll take care of it, I promise.”

Chapter 29

LANE

He’s late.

He’s late, and I’m standing here waiting on him, when for all I know he may not even be coming.

I pace back and forth beside the door as I bite my thumbnail, trying to keep the intrusive thoughts at bay. But it’s hard. I live on doubt and thrive on speculation the longer I wait.

Anything could’ve happened. A car crash, late practice, or a dead car battery. There are plenty of reasons he could have for not being here, yet my mind goes straight to the worst of them because the past has told me to expect it.

When you’re a parent, you show up. You don’t have a choice, and I can’t help but think he chose something other than us.

Not that I blame him. It’s not like I’ve been forthcoming, or he owes me anything.

“I thought you said Teagan was coming?” Sophie says, glancing up at me, her mouth turned in a pout.