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“And you think I care?” she scoffs. “They don’t control me any more than you do. We’re done. Over. Now get lost.”
She picks up the rock and chucks it right back at him. He tries to dodge, but it hits his shoulder, and he visibly squirms. I laugh in response. The expression on his face reminds me of my papa when I accidentally trashed his motorcycle while trying to ride the thing without a license.
Complete and utter rage.
“Dixie!” he screams.
Instead of responding, she grabs my shoulders, pulls me toward her, and smashes her lips on mine.
Holy fuck.
Her kiss is on fire, just like her personality, even though it ends just as quickly as it started. She rips away from my mouth and gives Derek a dirty grin. I know she used me just to get back at him, but hey, I’m not complaining. I’ll accept any kiss I can get from her.
“You …” Derek growls, glaring at me. “Think you can kiss my girl?”
“Who, me?” I say, pointing at myself, ridiculing him.
He snarls, “This is all your fault. You’d better watch your back, kid.” Then he turns around and storms off.
That sounded like a threat, but I’m not afraid. He can’t hurt me. And as long as Dixie prefers to kiss me over him, I’m calling myself the winner in this situation.
“Or what?” Dixie calls out to him, but he doesn’t even turn his head. “Thought so. Bye! Hope I never have to see your ugly face again!”
It takes a while for him to disappear and for the quiet to return to the streets.
“Wow …” I say. “That was—”
“Awkward?” she interjects.
I raise a brow. “I was going to say intense, but that’ll do.”
She smirks and shakes her head. “Sorry you had to go through that again.”
“It’s okay. I can take it.” I make a fist and smack my own hand. “If he tries to hurt you, let me know, and I’ll give him a good punch.”
“Don’t start a fight over me, please,” she says. “I’m not worth it.”
How can she say that?
Doesn’t she realize how valuable she is as a person?
Whoever put these thoughts in her head should get their head checked.
I grab a strand of her hair and tuck it behind her ear. “You are worth it to me.”
She purses her lips, trying to stop herself from smiling like crazy, but it’s not working.
So I lean in closer, and murmur, “Now … where were we?”
Chapter Seven
Brandon
One week later
Age 18
“Happy Birthday, son,” my papa says, shoving a package into my hands.
“What’s this?”
“Birthday present. What else?” He chuckles. “You didn’t think I’d forget about you, did you?”
I’m a bit flabbergasted. He didn’t even mention he was going to buy something, let alone celebrate this day with me. My papa has never been one for celebrations. He doesn’t even celebrate his own birthday. People always thought it was weird, but I didn’t know any different. Though when the people at school congratulate you everywhere you go, I always felt like I was missing out a little. Especially when others would discuss the gifts they got.
Which is why I’m so surprised my papa actually bought something for me this year.
“Well, open it,” he says, nodding at me.
I hastily unwrap the present and open the box.
“I know I’ve let you down a couple of times, so I wanted to do you good,” he says. “Since it’s your eighteenth birthday and all.” He clears his throat as I pull out a thick, ringed pendant with a feather attached at the end. This … I remember this …
“Ma …” I mumble.
She always wore it around her neck. Every single day.
“It was your ma’s wish that it’d be passed along to you when you were eighteen.”
“Papa…” Tears well up in my eyes, but I blink them away. “You didn’t have to.” I hug him tight. “Thank you.”
“You don’t think it’s strange?” he asks.
“No, of course not,” I say as I put it around my neck. “How does it look?”
I don’t think I’ve seen him smile this brightly in a long time. “Perfect. You remind me so much of your ma.”
We hug again, barely able to keep it together. Then he pats me on the back, and says, “Well, hope you enjoy the rest of your day. Do you have any plans? I know you kids are always keen to go out drinking.” He puts a finger against my chest. “That’s fine by me, but make sure you’re sober when you drive, okay?”
“Papa, of course.” I tsk. “You know me.”
“Exactly,” he says, making me laugh. “So don’t overdo it.”
He thinks I’m gonna party hard, but I’m not that kinda guy. I prefer to hang out with a few friends—more specifically, Dixie and Hanson—and that’s it. I don’t want or need to invite all my classmates for my birthday to feel special.
