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I licked my lips. Now or never. “Actually, I was thinking more about how with your new hours, it’s going to be really hard for you to keep up with homeschooling me this year. I mean, you’ll want to sleep in and catch up after those long doubles. And I’m going to feel terrible that you’re having to drag yourself out of bed for me.” The best kind of lies weren’t really lies at all. I hadn’t fabricated anything, yet. I really was worried about how she’d manage the load of homeschooling me when she was working so many hours. I just wasn’t bothering to include the other reasons I wanted to go to a real school.
Like having a social life. Or maybe meeting people and making friends. Or just getting to pretend I was sort of normal.
She kept me in suspense while she ate several mouthfuls of tuna noodle casserole, and then finally shook her head. “No. I already told you. You’re not well enough to be out of the house like that. And what if you had an episode at school?”
“You can fill out these forms. I looked it up. I could have all my medicine with the school nurse. They would know exactly what to do.”
She sniffed. “The school nurse? I don’t even trust doctors with you. You think I’m going to let some school nurse take care of my baby?”
“I won’t have an episode, mom. I’ll stay in my chair. I won’t push it.”
She shook her head again. “It’s not happening, Kennedy. You’re staying home with me, and that’s final.”6TristanI stood outside Kennedy’s house, knocking every few seconds on the rattling screen door. I hadn’t seen her for a couple days, and I decided it wouldn’t hurt to check on her. Granted, I probably would’ve had a better shot of getting let in if I hadn’t come at night.
I knocked again and finally heard footsteps approaching.
The door swung open to reveal Kennedy’s mom. She wasn’t quite as tall as she had looked from where I was hiding in the woods the other day, but she was still impressive. “You must be Mrs. Stills.” I flashed my best smile. “I’m Tristan, and—”
“It’s eight at night.” Her voice was dry and devoid of emotion.
“Sorry. Practice ran late. I meant to stop by earlier. I was hoping to speak to Kennedy. I saw you all move in the other day and hadn’t had a chance to say—”
The door slammed shut in my face.
I grinned. The old battle-ax had shut the door on me. Now I knew where Kennedy got her spunk from, at least.
I walked around the side of the house and spotted a big oak tree that split not far from the ground. I hopped up, got my footing, and started climbing it. In a couple minutes, I was inching along a thick branch that brought me within jumping distance of the sloped roof outside Kennedy’s window.
I decided a fall from this height would be more irritating than tragic and went for it.
My feet slipped, knocking a shingle loose, but I managed to catch the shutter outside the window and hold myself in place. I got my footing and then tried the window.
It slid open. I ducked inside, pushing aside a lacy curtain.
Score.7KennedyI woke to the sound of rustling bottles and drawers. I rubbed my eyes, vaguely expecting to see my mom with some new round of medication I was supposed to start taking.
Instead, I saw all six foot three of Tristan Blackwood standing in my bedroom.
At night.
I yanked my covers up. I was just sleeping in my underwear, and I tried to quickly replay whether I’d already pulled the covers up when I woke, or if they’d been bunched at the foot of my bed like they were on most hot nights.
“What the fuck,” I hissed in an angry whisper. The last thing I needed was my mom walking into this. God only knew what she would think she was seeing.
Tristan turned, apparently unconcerned by the fact that he was in my room.
I noticed the open window for the first time and pieced it together, even if I still didn’t quite believe it. Had he actually climbed in my window? Seriously?
“You take all this shit?” He asked, holding up a bottle of pills and turning his head sideways to look at it. “Why are all the labels ripped off?”
I shook my head. I had no idea what was going on, but answering his questions was the last thing on my mind. “Get out of my room. Now!”
Tristan shook another bottle, and set it down, apparently not satisfied.
“What are you looking for?”
He scrutinized another bottle, then tossed it to the ground. “One that looks important. Are you dying, or something? Why do you take so much of this shit?”
