“It’s Saturday. That’s, like, prime time for a real estate agent. She’s always doing house showings on Saturday mornings.”
“Oh. Cool. What about everyone else?”
“Jazzy is at cheerleading. Mom dropped her off. Dad’s in his office doing some paperwork, but he’s leaving for the home soon.”
“The home?”
“Yeah, the Anders Home. He counsels at-risk youth there.” Connor eyes me. “Any big plans for the weekend?”
“No. I don’t even know anyone yet.”
“Well, they all know you. You’re the talk of the town. Everyone’s asking about the new girl.”
I stiffen. “Are they?”
“Yep. Big-time. A few of the guys on the football team were definitely checking you out.”
As much as I know I shouldn’t entertain this, I can’t fight my curiosity. “Who?”
“Just a few guys,” he says, being all obnoxiously vague as boys tend to be.
I don’t bother asking follow-up questions. It’s better that I don’t know anyway. That’s the story of my life. The less I know, the better. Which is why going to the cabin was a stupid thing to do.
You don’t want to see where the wife was offed? There’s still a bloodstain on the floor in the bedroom…
God. Who gets excited about something like that?
I’m pulled from my grim thoughts when Connor says, “Everything all right? You got real pale all of a sudden.”
I avoid his concerned gaze. “I’m fine. I was just thinking about…”
Thinking about how if I want to leave my past behind, living here isn’t the place to do it.
My mind is blank as to any excuse, so I simply end up staring into my bowl of Cheerios, dunking the O’s with my spoon.
“I get it. Thinking about your mom, right?”
I blink. I’malwaysthinking about her, but even more so now that I was steps away from the place where she met her gruesome end. But I realize he’s not talking about Gabrielle Thorn’s mother.Ryan’smother passed away only recently, while I was in school in Switzerland. Tragic. Car accident.
“Yeah. I was thinking about the accident,” I lie. “I…Maybe if I’d been there, I would’ve been able to save her.”
His expression fills with pity, and I hate it. He shouldn’t pity me. I’m lying to him.
Fortunately the phone next to his elbow lights up on the counter, drawing his attention away. I notice the name that flashes across the screen—Sam—and the accompanying caller photograph. It’s of Connor in his football uniform, standing next toan even taller guy with dark skin and a turtleneck. It was clearly taken on the sidelines after a game, since Connor’s face is sweaty and he’s wearing eye black. They’re both smiling.
I hide my own smile as Connor ignores the call. “You could’ve answered it,” I tease.
“Nah. We’re in the middle of something. I’ll call him back.”
“Who’s Sam?” I ask, thankful for the change of topic. “Does he go to school with us?”
“He goes to Brice, next town over. I met him at a party this summer and we’ve been hanging out. He came to see me play last week.”
“He’s cute.”
“I know, right?” Connor grins. “Mom would probably kill me if she knew.”
Somehow I can’t see that. While murder might run in this family, Maggie seems cool. “That you’re gay, you mean?”
