Page 53 of Avery's Hero

Softly, I ask, “Are you struggling with your grades? If you are, I can probably help you. I’ve done some tutoring before.”

Raising a brow, he flatly asks, “Persistent, aren’t you?”

I grin. “Yes.”

“No, it’s not my damned grades.”

“Okay, that’s good. But it’s something.”

He groans, “Of course, it’s something. I wouldn’t have been yelling at my father if it wasn’t something.”

“A girl?” I venture.

That’s when his eyes darken. An electric current stirs in them. Softly, he says, “Belle. That’s her name.”

I hide my sigh. Poor guy. Young love is so hard. “What’s going on with Belle?” I ask, keeping my voice casual.

“Look, you sound like the school counselor now.”

I kick at a pebble on the boardwalk. “I’m far from a counselor. My own life is a mess. The last thing I’d want to do is try to fix other people’s lives.”

“Why are you talking to me, then?”

“Because I was sent away to a school,” I say with as neutral a voice as possible, but I don’t fully succeed. If he’s attentive, he’ll hear the tremor there.

His eyes flip to mine. This time, his hurt and angerare even more visible. “I can’t leave. Belle… needs me. She’s got… a problem.” His finger picks furiously at the hole in his jeans.

“Is she in danger?”

He grimaces. “She could be. I can’t leave her to fend for herself.”

I watch him grow more agitated. Clenching his fist, he says, “This group of rich kids… they put a target on Belle. Fucking bullies.”

Puzzle pieces fall into place. “That’s who you got in a fight with, isn’t it?”

He nods and looks away, clenching his jaw. “One of them.”

“How many are there?”

Muscles tick along his young jaw until he says, “Four or five.”

It’s out of line, but I dare to ask, “Why did you go to San Diego?”

“Because the cousin of this guy at our school is the ring leader. He lives there. I guess he saw Belle in a news story about volunteering and he decided she was a prime target for their cruel fucking games. Since then, it’s been hell for her.”

My heart hurts even more for this kid. He’s trying to help this classmate, a girl he obviously cares about, and it’s destroying his relationship with his father.

“Your dad needs to know this.”

“He won’t care.”

I turn to face him. “Lincoln, your dad would care. He’s the kind of man who would not stand up for someone being bullied.”

He leans back, shakes his head. “Man, if you think he’d take time out of his busy schedule to give a fuck, you’rewrong. He’ll be happy to have me out of his hair. Just like he was happy when my mom left. Brock’s a selfish bastard.”

I press my lips tight. The whole picture is a lot different than this fifteen-year-old can see, but there are two sides to every story. And Lincoln feels hurt, neglected, and angry. Emotions I can relate all too closely to.

I was that girl, once.