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“You’re blaming Hunter, because he told them?”
Scott sneered at me. “No. I am saying that you should just get with him, since he’s the person you want. You lied to me when I asked you if you had any feelings for him.”
I rolled my eyes. “Maybe your memory is hazy, but you asked me if I was seeing Hunter. And I told you that I wasn’t. I did like you. I wasn’t the one trying to prove to my friends that I could bag you.”
“You were just trying to prove to yourself that you don’t want to be with that—Hunter.”
“You don’t know me well enough to come to conclusions like that, Scott.”
“Are you trying to convince me, or yourself of that?” He blew out a breath. “I am just coming clean. You’re not being real with yourself. And I saw how your parents were when they saw Hunter. They didn’t approve of him on the spot. My parents wouldn’t want a Hunter near my sister, because he’s dangerous. I’d fight tooth and nail to stop some—a guy with those life long problems from dating my sister. I know you don’t wanna hear it, but if this is our last time talking, I have to say it; once an addict, always an addict. Whether they’re good people or bad people, it’s not just their body that wants alcohol and drugs.” He tapped his temples with his fingers. “It’s their every thought. They’re irritated, violent, or closed off because they’re not using, or want to use, or their high is coming down. Do you want to take a backseat to Hunter’s chemical dependency?”
“What makes you an expert? Huh? How can you be so narrow-minded and not believe in one’s capacity to change?”
“I didn’t say he couldn’t change. He could go on to other drugs or not change up his pattern of use. His whole life has to be about not going back to his old ways—if he hasn’t already—or spending his life chasing after his next high.”
***
PETE WENT TO SLEEP after I read him five stories on Sunday evening. The drive home earlier this morning had helped me to clear my mind after Scott gave me more than his two cents on Hunter’s future. I’d felt sad for him and for myself. I’d wanted to refute everything Scott had said. I thought he believed what he’d said. In some way, Scott could possibly understand Hunter’s on-going struggle more than he’d been willing to confess. Hunter must have decided that he wouldn’t be coming into La Caridad anymore because on Friday Vince had picked up the orders. He’d introduced himself to Blanca and Jill and had asked how my ear piercing felt. Jill hadn’t commented on Vince being there, instead of Hunter, but I knew that she thought I’d had something to do with it. She wasn’t being weird to me, since I’d told her that Hunter and I had been physical. She was mature, like I’d known she’d be.
I gave Pete one more kiss on his cheek and brushed the loose curls from his face. If he’d been remotely awake, he would’ve told me how disgusting it was. He didn’t like to be babied anymore by me, but he was my baby brother. Thinking about him always did the trick; sometimes I had to just see him in person and remember what was really important in my life. I’d decided that I was going to stay up into the wee hours of the morning and do my assignments, since there was a Halloween party on Wednesday. I had to have my costume by then. If I couldn’t find anything by then, I’d just go to the party with my apron from work.
***
AS I CAME INTO the kitchen, the smell of great coffee tickled all of my senses. Dad was using this fancy new machine. When I peered at him, he gave me a wisp of a smile and I could see the sincerity in his eyes.
“I remember when you were Pete’s age—like a little adult.” He nodded toward the table and I sat down while he brought over the mugs of Espresso. “You should’ve been asleep, but you insisted on having a cup of coffee with me before I went to work. Your mother blames me for getting you hooked on the stuff.”
He sat down and I reached for the mug. “But you made me the decaf, so it didn’t make me stay up all night, like it would for Pete.” I shrugged. “What can I say?” I grinned at him. “I’d liked the smell.”
Dad bobbed his head. “Is Pete asleep?”
“Yes, Dad.”
“How many stories did you read him?”
“I read him the last three. I had him read the first two stories. He’s got the tone and expressions down.”
“He’s getting more confident,” Dad said. “He’ll stumble a little over some words, but he reads the word or sentence until he says it properly.” He sipped from his mug, and I did the same, when he said, “Not that it wasn’t wonderful to see you today, but did you come home because you’re sad that Scott and you aren’t going out anymore?”
“I was disappointed, but I am okay with it.” Dad’s held a doubtful expression. “Honest.”
“We thought he was a nice boy for you.”
I arched a brow at him. “And what made you think he was a nice boy?” I kept my tone playful. Dad had always told me that boys were after one thing only: sex. It wouldn’t surprise him if I’d told him that Scott had only wanted to get in my pants. However, steam would’ve came out of his ears if he knew about the bet on my virginity. I didn’t like that Dad knew about my V-card status, because some niggling part of my brain thought that he wouldn’t look at me like I was his little girl anymore when I shared myself with someone more than I had with Hunter Lovell.
“He carried himself like I taught you a man should,” his countenance grew severe. “That Hunter boy looked like he’s been in juve and jail. Does he even go to your school?”
I felt my pulse quicken and my skin tingle, as the contact of our lips replayed in my mind. I thought I could go one day without hearing about Hunter, but he’d crossed my mind numerous times today so it was just like hearing about him.
“He’s a sophomore,” I kept my response short. Hunter hadn’t been in one of his classic vintage shirts, torn jeans, or leather jackets. He’d been dressed like a TA. And yet, Mom and Dad had assumed he couldn’t be a professional. He was a professional tattoo artist like Vince and the other men I’d seen at Lasting Impressions. They hadn’t postured; they were people who were skilled. Their work was on the walls and in the portfolios. I couldn’t explain any of these things to him, because, while I liked talking to him more than my Mom, he’d really think Beth was poisoning my mind, like Mom had said.
“An education is never a waste. He might make something out of himself. But Beth is wasting her life on men like him.” He drank some more coffee. My mug had been empty for minutes. I didn’t bother to tell him, for the umpteenth time, that Hunter wasn’t her boyfriend. My parents hadn’t been surprised when I’d told them that Hunter was a friend of hers.
Dad stood up and took our mugs. “One more Espresso for the road?”
I faked a smile. “Yes, Dad.”
***
