I turn the water off and spin around to face him. My head is pounding, and I can’t seem to calm myself down no matter how hard I try. I don’t think he’s even capable of understanding why this is so difficult for me, and that makes it worse. “So what am I supposed to do after graduation, Blaze?” I ask harshly. “Your dad’s going to keep paying me to be yourfriend?”
“You’re getting an econ degree, aren’t you?” Blaze smiles at me with that charming smile that probably won Pandora over the second time she’d met him. “You can find work at a company in New Valence.”
My heart drops into my stomach. That’s not what’s supposed to happen. That’s not how it’s supposed to be. I’m supposed to be with the Bouchards. The degree in economics is for show. It’s notreal.
At least, it wasn’t supposed to be.
I guess he’s finally had enough of me, and all it took was meeting Pandora to realize he didn’t need me around anymore.
“Let me guess: River’s going to be right there at your side,” I say bitterly. “Becausehecan ‘handle’ the violence and whatever other secrets you’re hiding.”
Blaze gives me a strange look. “Are you jealous? River’s got nothing to do with anything. I’m not even sure I fully trust him yet.”
“No, I’m not jealous!” I snap at him even though I’m not delusional enough to think that’s the truth. “But you could’ve at least told me you didn’t want me involved with the family business before this.” I rake my hand through my hair. “I look like a stupid idiot trying to keep you safe when I’m halfway out the fucking door as soon as we graduate.”
“Out the door?” Blaze finally drops the smile and scowls at me. “What are you talking about? You’re my best friend, Asch. That’s not going to change just because you get a real job.”
“Did you ever think that maybe I don’t want a ‘real’ job?” I demand. “How long were you going to wait to let me down? Graduation? ‘Oh, sorry, Asch. We don’t actually want you working for us because you’re too pathetic.’” I bark out a laugh. “You can tell your dad to stop fucking paying me, then, unless you like the idea of him having to pay someone to be your friend.”
I don’t know what I’ll do without the pay I get from George Bouchard each month. It’s what I send my mom to keep her afloat. But I guess if Blaze wants me to get a real job, that’s what I’ll do.
How could I have been so fucking stupid all this time? A bodyguard? Really?
No wonder he’s never once listened to my advice. I’ve been the only one taking this seriously.
“It’s not that you’re pathetic,” Blaze growls. “But it’s dangerous, okay? I don’t want you getting involved in this shit. I can handle myself, and I don’t need you protecting me.”
“Wow,” I say, and I barely recognize my own voice. “Must be some secret, for you to stop bothering to even go along with thisbullshit job. You just asked your dad to give me money to play pretend, huh?”
I’m not sure I’ve ever been so humiliated in my life.
“I didn’t ask my dad anything!” Blaze yells. “Christ, Asch, stop being a little bitch about this. There’s nothinggoodabout joining the Bouchards, okay?”
“I didn’t think there was! It’s not like I think your family deals with bunnies and rainbows!” I snarl back at him. “But it’s my choice. Not yours.” At least, I’d thought it was. “Keep your secrets, then, and keep your fucking money.”
To my mortification, tears have welled up in the corners of my eyes, and I clench my hands into fists at my sides.
I storm out of the kitchen, heading straight for the bedroom I’ve been staying in. I stop shy of slamming the door, but I close it harder than necessary.
I pull my phone out of my pocket, and I see that my mother has texted me again.
Fuck.
How am I going to find a job that’ll let me keep paying for her rent around my classes?
How could I have been so goddamn stupid as to think I actually made a difference at all, that Blaze wasn’t only humoring me?
Instead of answering the text with one of my own, I tap on my mother’s picture and hit call. I put it against my ear, waiting for it to connect, and when it does, I have to fight back the wave of loneliness and bitterness that threatens to wash over me.
“What’s wrong?” she asks without preamble.
I let out a weak laugh. “Who says something has to be wrong?” I ask. “Maybe I just wanted to talk to you.”
“Uh huh. ‘Maybe’ you do,” she replies. “What’s going on, Asch?”
I sink down onto my bed with a sigh. “I lost my job with the Bouchards,” I tell her. It’s not official yet, I know, but it might as well be. “I’m sorry.”
“I won’t lie and say I’m not relieved,” she says.
