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He doesn’t go on, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say he’s playing with me.
“So? What type of issue?”
His grin nearly splits his face open. “Told you, fighting and drinking. He used to control it before, but lately, he’s been appearing hungover and barely holding on. His face has some cuts, and there are bruises on his body. He doesn’t pay attention to practice or studies or even himself. Today, he came drunk and the captain had had enough.”
“If his dad knows, he’ll be in trouble,” I murmur to myself, then realise I said it aloud.
“Pretty sure Coach called him by now,” Ronan hums. “I think there’s talk about sending him to a closed rehab and he’ll only come back for his diploma. It’s no secret Lewis will lose his shit on him. After all, this is an election year.”
Something in my chest squeezes, tightening harder the more I ignore it.
“He brought it on himself,” I say, then change the subject to the game.
Ronan launches in on his heroic accomplishments and the decisive pass he gave to Aiden so that he scored their only goal.
As we go into the restaurant, I laugh and smile at his goofy behaviour. We even commemorate the dinner with a selfie in Ronan’s over the top style. He wraps an arm around me and tucks me to his side, kissing my cheek.
Although I’m laughing on the outside, there’s something cutting me open and slicing me to tiny pieces on the inside.
I order a salad, even though Ronan says they have diet-friendly food, but I don’t eat any of it.
My body is right here in this high-end restaurant that I shouldn’t have worn a denim skirt for. The setting has an elegant brown and white combination that gives a certain type of serenity.
Not to me.
Although I’m present, smiling at what Ronan is saying, my mind is elsewhere. I’m thinking about the theories of what Lewis could do to Xander. Ronan said it. This is an election year for him and Silver’s father. They completely disallow any type of mishaps in normal days, let alone when the campaign is so close to starting. I wonder if Silver’s disappearance for the past two days has something to do with that.
Point is, Lewis has always been as strict with Xander as Mum has been with me. That day Aunt Samantha left, and Xander went home crying for her, Lewis fixed him with a glare and told him to not cry for her.
Since then, I’ve never seen tears in Xander’s eyes.
“Earth to Kimmy.” Ronan leans over so he’s close.
“Sorry, you were saying?”
“That you should take a chance.”
“Take a chance?”
“Yup.”
I swallow my non-existent saliva. “On you?”
Despite my talk, I don’t think I can do that. As Elsa said, it really sucks to force oneself. While Ronan adds flavour to my life, he’s not my favourite flavour.
He’s not pistachio.
“No, on you.” He pinches my nose.
I pull away, confused. “On me?”
“Yes, Kimmy. You’ve been thinking about Knight all night – that wasn’t supposed to rhyme – so how about you act on it?”
“I haven’t been thinking about him all night.” Right?
“Uh-huh, come on, ma chère, c’est moi.” He wipes his mouth, then scrolls through his phone. “I think I gave him enough evidence.”
I lean sideways in an attempt to see what he’s scrolling through. “Enough evidence?”
