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EIGHT

BECCA

It’s been days of monotonous classes and grueling basketball lessons. Somewhere in the middle of all that, Eli and I have come to an unspoken truce. One where I don’t antagonize him half to death, and he doesn’t piss me off just by breathing. I’m not sure it will last, but I’m going to roll with it as long as I can.

On Sunday, I gave in to the urge to check on Momma, but she didn’t answer. I haven’t talked to my folks since I got to Florida and Papa cut me off, but it’s not for lack of trying on my part. I should write them off completely like they seem to have done with me, but I’ve got a soft spot for Momma and I always will. I can’t just leave her in the snake pit without making sure she’s not bit.

I tried to tell her once about Papa sleeping with the twenty-two-year-old youth leader. I was just trying to help, and I thought she deserved to know. In my mind, if Papa had the nerve to pretend he was a man of God who upheld his vows, then Momma deserved to know she married a viper. I expected tears and maybe sympathy that my eyes had to see what they did, being that I was just a thirteen-year-old girl. Instead, she told me it was high time I learned that all men are liars, that love was a fairy tale told to children, and fairy tales don’t exist. She told me to never disrespect her again by bringing it up. I lost a lot that day. Respect for both my folks and my faith in God. If I couldn’t trust my folks’ love, how could I trust a man up in the sky who supposedly loved me the most?

Up until that point, I spent every day of my life loving God more than anything. I prayed every night at supper and then again by my bed. I looked at my folks’ marriage with hearts in my stupid eyes and soaked up Papa’s sermons like a sponge. So when Momma sent me to the church, and I walked in on Sally Sanderson spread out on Papa’s desk while he rutted on top of her, shock froze my heart and dropped my stomach to the floor. They were so lost in their sin they didn’t even hear me at the door.

I still don’t think he realizes I know. But I do. I’ll never forget the grief of learning the man I thought raised me didn’t exist.

Love is a fairy tale.

I’m sitting in the stands of Waycor Arena when Momma’s name lights up my phone, and even though I’ve been trying to get a hold of her, half of me doesn’t want to answer. Especially since she didn’t reach out to make sure I was okay after Papa decided to shut me out. But the other side of me—the one that prods my insides to make sure she’s okay—gives in and picks up.

“Hi, Momma,” I say just as Eli strolls onto the court.

He’s dressed down today, in black basketball shorts and a white undershirt that pulls tight across his chest and abs. Good Lord. He sets down his gym bag and smiles, making his way over. I muster up a half-grin, too pissed off he’s still affecting me to give him a full one.

“Rebecca Jean.” Momma’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “I waited a good long time before makin’ this phone call, thinkin’ maybe you would come to your senses and smooth things over with your father.”

“Momma, it’s amazin’ how you can defend him. Why do I need to be the one to smooth things over? I didn’t do anything wrong.”

She huffs. “He said you’d say that.”

“God forbid you realize Papa’s word ain’t actually the gospel,” I snark.

“You watch your mouth, young lady. Now, I want you to stop this nonsense and tell me you’ll be comin’ home at the end of the school year.”

Irritation boils in my stomach, rising up my throat and coating my words. “I would, Momma, but you and Papa always taught me lyin’ was a sin, and I don’t wanna end up burnin’ in the fiery pits of hell just to appease y’all.”

Eli’s eavesdropping and not even trying to hide it. He runs his hand over his mouth, clearly stifling his smile. I beam back at him, unable to stop myself, my heart quickening while Momma’s voice screeches in the background.

“One day, you’re gonna need to grow up, Rebecca Jean. It’s shameful the way you act.”

Her words slice through my moment of happiness.

I swallow and nod, my eyes closing briefly against the sting. “Well, I figure at this point you expect it. I’m just tryin’ to live up to your expectations.”

Eli frowns, his eyes boring a hole in the side of my head. I fidget, vulnerable under his gaze and hating the way it feels.

“Anyway, Momma. School’s goin’ great, by the way, thanks for askin’, but I’m actually at work, so I’ve gotta go.”

I hang up before she responds, sucking in air through my teeth. I don’t know why I let her words affect me the way they do. I should be used to them, I’ve been hearing them since I was thirteen.

Time lessens the burn, but at the heart of it all, I’m just a girl who wants my folks to accept me for me . Not for who they want me to be.

I glance at Eli. His arms are crossed, sinewy muscles on full display, his eyes homing in on my face.

“What?” I snap.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine.” I take the wild hair Momma gave me out of its ponytail and retie it up.

Eli’s still standing there, hovering like a damn gnat.

“We just gonna stand here, or are we gonna do this?” I throw my arms in the air.

Those blue irises trail up and down, assessing me. The ache from Momma’s shame drains away, replaced with the heat from his pensive gaze . I thought being around him would desensitize me, but instead it’s gotten worse.

I can’t entertain thoughts of him for so many reasons. One, he’s technically my boss. Pretty sure we’d both get in heaps of trouble if I let him dive into my honey pot. Two, and most importantly, I can’t stand his stupid ass. Which leads me to believe my body is only reacting because I’ve never had a hate fuck before. Plus, it’s going on three weeks since my last orgasm, which is a goddamn tragedy, so I’m a ball of pent-up hormones.

“You hungry?” Eli’s voice snaps me out of my lustful thoughts.

“What?”

“Food. Do you wanna get something to eat?”

I look around. “Uhh…aren’t we supposed to be trainin’?”

He shrugs. “Seems like you could use a day off.”

His words shock me into silence. I’m not sure anyone has ever given a damn about what I could use, and even though I hate him, my chest warms at his thoughtfulness. “Okay, yeah…sure. But you’re buyin’.”