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“Casper,” he called. “Hierr.” The dog shot to his side and nosed at his hands. Hunter glanced at Michael. “Will you drive me back now?”
“Why don’t you wait,” said Michael. “Have some dinner.”
Hunter glanced at the bowl of crushed cookies in milk. “Thanks, I’ll pass.”
“You going to sleep in your car and skip school again?” said Michael.
Well, that changed the tenor of the room. Hunter couldn’t look at any of them now. He could feel them staring, and that was bad enough.
“Forget it,” he said. “I’ll walk.”
The night air stung his face when he stepped out of the house, and Hunter pulled the hood of his sweatshirt higher against his neck. No one followed him.
Good.
He was dirty from helping Michael, and a hot shower would have helped ease the soreness across his shoulders, but that would have to wait until tomorrow morning. He wasn’t sure how long he could keep using the school gym showers without someone noticing he wasn’t going to class, but he’d do it as long as he could keep it up.
Your grandfather said you left.
Hunter swallowed. Stupid old man. Like he wanted to be there anyway.
He thought of the Merricks, sitting around the kitchen table, a room full of aggression and old wounds—but full of camaraderie and solidarity, too. The brothers didn’t always get along, but they knew each other.
His grandfather didn’t even know that Hunter would never have hit a girl.
His grandfather hadn’t even hesitated before hitting him. Hunter had to swallow again.
God, stop being such a wuss.
His father would be so disappointed.
Hunter rubbed at his eyes.
His cell phone chimed, and he yanked it out of his pocket, stupidly hoping it would be his mother.
It wasn’t.
Bueller . . . Bueller . . . Bueller.
Kate. Hunter smiled and wanted to kick himself. He stared at the text and wondered how to respond.
He felt a flicker of guilt at the way he’d thrown her out of his jeep.
Sneakers ground on pavement behind him, and Hunter whirled, hands up. Then the air sparked with Gabriel’s presence.
He shoved the phone in his pocket and kept walking.
Gabriel fell into step beside him.
Hunter didn’t even glance over. “Leave me alone.”
“Having a good cry?”
He wasn’t, but Hunter set his jaw anyway. “Go to hell.”
“So yesterday,” said Gabriel. “Remember when I flipped your tray?”
“No. I forgot all about it.”
