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“So…” I glanced across Mason to Finn, wondering if it was okay to broach this subject. I didn’t think the Princes kept much of anything from each other though, so I plowed ahead. “What do you want help studying for? What classes do you need to pull your grades up in?”
He grimaced, running a hand through his golden blond hair. “All of ’em.” Then he huffed a laugh. “Although math, I’m okay in. But American Literature, History, Political Science…? I’m sort of tanking those.”
“Okay.” I sat forward a little to get a clearer view of him. None of the other Princes seemed surprised by his words or weird about our conversation, which made me sure I was right—they had all known about this. “History isn’t really my strong suit either, and thank God you don’t need help with math. But the literature stuff I’m pretty good with.”
“Cool.” Finn dropped his head back against the couch, gazing up at the ceiling. There was beat of silence, then he added, “I mean, it’s not like I don’t try. I just can’t get the words to make sense most of the time.”
My brows furrowed, and I leaned over even more. I was practically in Mason’s lap by now, but the green-eyed boy didn’t move. He just watched me with glittering eyes as I stared at Finn.
“Don’t make sense how?”
Finn shrugged. “I dunno. Like my brain can’t always figure out what a word is. It’s stupid.”
“Do you mean like… dyslexia?”
He shrugged again, his gaze cutting to me. He was still draped over the couch, his pose completely relaxed and casual, but something like shame hid behind his eyes.
“I dunno. Maybe. My dad doesn’t believe in that kind of stuff though—calls it hippie bullshit.” He grinned, then grimaced. “I honestly think he’d rather I failed out of school and have everyone think I’m just a jock slacker than tell people he’s got a kid with a learning disability or whatever.”
My body craned so far over Mason’s that I almost tipped over, and he reached out a hand to steady me. I barely noticed it though, because all my focus was on Finn’s face—on the look of resigned self-deprecation in his features.
“That’s… insane.” I shook my head. “That’s so stupid, Finn. I don’t even know if it’s considered a learning disability or not, but it doesn’t make you dumb. You shouldn’t be failing classes just because of that.”
“Well, I am.”
He chuckled, flashing his dimples, and I got the distinct impression he was trying to deflect, to play it all off so I’d drop the subject. Of course he doesn’t want to talk about it, if his parents make him feel like shit for having a hard time reading.
“Okay.” I leaned back, and Mason’s gaze tracked my movement as I settled against the couch cushions again. “Well, I’ll help you study. We’ll figure something out.”
“Thanks, Legs.” His voice was quiet, and he reached across Mason to squeeze my knee.
“Lots of parents would rather let their kid suffer than admit there’s something wrong with them,” Cole said suddenly, his tone blank.
I glanced over at him, wondering if he was talking about Penny. I knew she had Tourette’s, but I hadn’t written that down in my little notebook. I had never planned on using that knowledge to hurt the black-haired boy or his family.
“Your grandma’s not the only one obsessed with reputation.” He leaned forward, staring at the floor and resting his forearms on his thighs. “Plenty of families would rather keep that shit hidden than get their kids the help they need.”
“Basically, we’re all fucking messes,” Finn threw in with a dry chuckle, sitting up straighter and smirking at me. I knew he hated talking about this. His default setting was carefree and easygoing, and he’d always gotten touchy talking about his grades or schoolwork.
My gaze bounced between him and Cole, and I decided not to press any more for now.
But it wasn’t fucking fair. He should’ve been getting support from the school, support from his parents—but instead, his dad had decided to ignore and deny the root of the issue and just throw money at it and hope it went away. Now that he couldn’t buy Finn passing grades, he was letting his son sink or swim on his own.
I couldn’t do anything to help Penny. Hell, I couldn’t even help Cole.
But I would find a way to help Finn.
Chapter 7
I didn’t sleep well at all that night. I jerked awake several times, emerging from nightmares about the crash, my mother, and Adena all rolled into one.
At six-thirty, I finally gave up trying and threw the covers off, hobbling into the bathroom and securing a large trash bag around my cast before stepping awkwardly into the shower. There was a handrail along the side wall, which helped keep me steady.
For the past few weeks, I’d essentially worn pajamas every day, with no makeup and my hair tied up in a messy bun or a simple ponytail. I took more care with my appearance as I got ready, and when I had put on the white shirt, red tie, and navy blue skirt of the Oak Park uniform, I glanced at myself in the mirror. My cast stood out like a sore thumb, blocky and clunky, but the bruises had mostly faded, and the still-healing cuts and abrasions on my body were covered by my long sleeves.
I looked almost normal.
