down a hallway to the last door, which stands open, waiting for me. The house smells like a mixture of lavender and cupcakes. It’s kind of comforting, but I don’t want to get too comfortable here. Chris sets my backpack down on the floor in a plain bedroom with a teddy bear wallpaper border. I’m accustomed to sleeping in bedrooms decorated like a toddler’s playroom, so this is nothing new.
“My mom wouldn’t let me take that stupid border down,” he says, lifting his chin toward the ceiling as he digs his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He’s apologizing to me over a wallpaper border? Great. I can already tell this guy is going to get too friendly with me.
As he looks up at the wallpaper, I see a thin nose ring dangling from his septum.
“I don’t care about the wallpaper. I just want to go to sleep.”
His lip quirks up in confusion. “It’s three o’clock.”
“I haven’t slept. I got kicked out last night and I spent the night at the police station. I refuse to sleep in the presence of strangers.” It was no surprise to me when the cops took me back to the Walkers’ house and they didn’t want anything to do with me.
“Afraid someone will shank you in your sleep?” He smiles, so amused with himself, and I notice another piercing in his tongue. This guy thinks he’s so fucking cool.
“I’m not having sex with you,” I declare, crossing my arms over my chest—not that there’s much to hide.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I see the way you’re looking at me.”
“Yeah, all right. I guess I’ll let you sleep and maybe when you wake up you’ll chill the fuck out and realize that just because someone’s nice to you it doesn’t mean they want to fuck you.”
My eyes widen at these words. I want to tell him to get the fuck out, but I’m dumbfounded.
He sees my shock and his face softens. “Or you can come downstairs and hang out and maybe I’ll play you a song .”
Chapter Four
Chris
Forever Practicing
She doesn’t saying anything, but I can see that she’s interested. She’s probably never had anyone offer to play a song for her. Something about her is strange. As I step aside for her to leave the room ahead of me, I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve seen her somewhere. Maybe we went to the same school at some point.
“Do you go to ADHS?” I ask as she descends the stairs.
“I went there for a couple months last year until I got moved to a home in Durham.”
Her voice sounds a little scratchy, like she’s been screaming at a concert or sporting event all day long. She’s probably just thirsty, or hungry judging by the way her T-shirt and jeans hang loosely.
“You want something to drink. We’ve got orange juice, Capri-Sun, milk, and water. And coffee, if you’re into that.” She steps down into the foyer and Tristan is back with a six-pack of Bud Light. “Put that away. My mom’s outside.”
“Fuck,” he whispers, tucking the six-pack behind one of the throw pillows on the blue sofa. “Who’s this?”
“Hey, everyone, this is Claire.” I look to her and she looks so uncomfortable. She’s looking everywhere but at my friends. “We should probably finish up tomorrow. My mom will be here in a minute.”
“Are you kicking us out?” Tristan says, the left side of his mouth turning up. He probably thinks I’m telling them to leave so I can try to hook up with Claire.
“Yeah, get the fuck out. We’ll pick up where we left off tomorrow. But Rachel will be here, so don’t get any ideas.”
Tristan rolls his eyes and I lead Claire into the kitchen while they pack up their shit.
“You can grab anything you want. There’s nothing off limits.” She stands next to the breakfast bar staring at the fruit bowl on the counter. “My mom will probably ask you to make a list of stuff you need from the store; food, shampoo, all that girl stuff.”
She looks almost as surprised as she did when I told her I didn’t want to get