Page 51 of The Illicit Play

I spent most of the weekend recovering in my room… and avoiding my brother. Thankfully, Satch has been around to deal with all the stuff he needs, so I could play the hermit and use catching up on schoolwork as my excuse.

Every time I ventured downstairs for sustenance, Wily cornered me, asking if I was okay and why I yelled at Grady. He was worried about Grady’s fat lip. Did I know anything about that?

I managed to deny, deny, deny!

But I think Wily’s getting suspicious, and it’s freaking me out.

Why oh why did I tell Grady I got kicked out of school? It’s not even true. Although itfeltlike I got kicked out, I actually only got threatened with an academic suspension, because I was failing all of my classes and I’d royally fucked up. The school was beyond frustrated with me and threatening disciplinary action. I couldn’t faceany of it, so I told them I’d pack my bags and leave so they wouldn’t have to worry about me anymore.

But I went and told Grady I got expelled.

Shit, I must have been so fucking out of it!

He took a fat lip for me. He took me to the hospital to make sure I was okay. He hasn’t told me all the details, and I haven’t asked, but I did slide an envelope of cash under his door last night to cover the initial hospital bill. Insurance will cover the rest, and I don’t even want to think about how the fuck I’m going to explain a hospital visit to my parents, but hopefully it’ll take weeks for the insurance company to notify them.

I have no idea how much Grady had to pay, but when I woke up this morning, the envelope was on my floor with a thank-you note and the leftover change.

Shit, he’s so fucking nice… and I haven’t even looked at him since I screamed, “Leave me alone!”

Yeah, that glorious moment on Saturday morning is burned into my brain—another scorching mark to add to my Wall of Shame.

Shit!

I have no idea who he fought with, but I know it was over me.

Wily mentioned something about Grady defending a girl at a party.

That was me.

He was defending me.

And how did I thank him?

I yelled in his face, and now I’m ignoring him because I’m too chickenshit to deal.

He even texted me on Saturday afternoon. I have no idea how he got my number, but his message was simple:

Here’s my number in case you ever need me. Grady.

I mean, what the hell is his problem? Why does he feel so compelled to be nice to me?

I can’t let that happen. He knows too much, and if I let my guard down, who knows what might come out.

I tried to deny everything he said I confessed, but I’m sure he saw right through my bullshit.

He totally did! You’re not fooling anyone.

Except I am. Because Wily and my parents still think I’m their perfect little angel, and they’re worried about me because I’m working too hard. Well, Wily’s worried that I study too much. My parents keep piling on the pride, which is a stress all its own.

They are going to be so disappointed in me.

I’ve never done anything wrong before. I’ve always been the good girl, done my best, tried my hardest… gotten all the A+s and gold stars.

And now I’m practically a homeless loser. If it weren’t for Wily’s injury and the excuse of looking after him, where the hell would I be?

My monthly allowance, although decent, can only stretch so far, and it’s being sucked dry right now.

I can’t go home.