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Izzy shoves at me, and I retreat, letting her up. Jeremy slithers out from under her, rolling onto the floor.
“Bar again?” I say stiffly, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. In the corner of my eye, Izzy fixes her long tangle of hair. She recently got highlights, making her normally medium brown hair look gold in spots.
Waylon nods, eyes growing distant as they drop somewhere below my chin. “Yeah…”
“You can borrow mine,” Izzy says, pushing to a stand.
“Thanks,” he mumbles, cheeks growing red.
Like all of us, Waylon got his license too—thanks to Ray teaching him and taking him to the DMV—but he doesn’t have a car. Neither do I. His dad knows this, but clearly doesn’t give a shit.
“He’s been needing to get picked up a lot lately,” I say carefully.
Waylon shrugs. “He’s a drunk. That’s what drunks do.”
Izzy and I share a look, our expressions tight.
“He knows I drive now. That’s probably why.”
I scowl. “Just leave him.”
His lip ticks up bitterly. “I wish.”
I frown. Then why won’t he?
“Way…if you did, would he…”
He blows out a sharp breath, leveling Izzy with a warning look. “I just don’t want to deal with his cranky ass. I’ll hear about it all week.”
“You know you can always stay here,” Izzy says.
“Or crash at mine,” I remind him.
He nods. “I know. But it’s just a ride. Keeps him off my back.”
“Okay,” Izzy says quietly. Her jaw is tight as she nods to the hall. “Come on. My keys are in my room.”
Once they’re gone, and it’s just Jeremy and me again, I find him sitting at his desk, fiddling with the wire of his headphones where they hang down his chest, twisting and disappearing in the pocket of his sweatpants.
He’s suspiciously quiet, and I frown. “You okay?”
Our gazes meet, and he flashes me a small sad smile. “Yeah. Just… his dad sucks.”
I snort. “You have that right.”
He jabs a thumb behind him. “I’m just gonna…”
“Yeah, I’ll leave you to it,” I rush out, feeling this sudden…urgency to be alone. To get away for a bit. Catch my breath.
What the hell is going on with me?
The flu’s been going around. Maybe I’m coming down with something.
He nods. “See ya.”
“See ya.”
Piling my books in my arms, I head for the door, when I pause in the threshold, and twist my head over my shoulder.
