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I can’t help but laugh at his message. It comes out a bit louder than I’d anticipated, raising suspicion from Will, who peeks at me from the corner of his eyes. Thankfully, he doesn’t go as far as to question who I’m texting.
Winter: Why haven’t you been at school?
Haze: I had stuff to do.
Winter: Like what?
Haze: Like not be at school. Badum tss.
Winter: You know, if you put as much energy into your studies as you put into dodging questions, you’d be a freaking genius.
Haze: Did you just give me a compliment
I sigh. He’s never going to answer me. It’s no use.
Winter: Why are you still texting me?
Haze: Because I like talking to you.
Winter: Well, you shouldn’t. I meant what I said Sunday night. We need to stop.
“We’re here.” Will’s breathy voice brings me back to reality.
I look up to see Blake’s washed-out apartment complex ahead of me. Will pulls up into the guest parking spot and motions to get out of the car, which I do, dragging my feet and trying my best not to check if Haze replied. Then, as Will leads the way toward the main entrance of the brownstone building, I can’t help but give in to the curiosity.
Haze: What if I don’t want to
I text back that I’ll talk to him later and bury my phone deep in my pocket. I can’t keep doing this. I need to get this boy out of my head and focus on what’s really important here: Kendrick.
We go up the stairs, heading for the fourth floor. I try my best to ignore the throbbing guilt I’ve come to know very well in the past few weeks.
There are a million reasons why I should get him out of my life.
But my stupid self still tries and find the one reason not to.
BLAKE’S LIVING ROOM IS SUN SOAKED and barely furnished. You’d assume with the money he makes from the fights, he’d be able to afford a kitchen table. A red couch is pushed up against the wall of his one-bedroom apartment, and a lamp is placed in the right corner next to it. I’m guessing his excuse of a couch is where my cousin has been sleeping. Blake lives alone, which is convenient for Kendrick, but two guys living by themselves also means dishes in the sink, unwashed floors, and empty beer bottles.
I’m so relieved when Kendrick walks out of the bedroom that I pull him into a hug. He isn’t as bad as I thought he would be; the dark bruises on his face and neck are still very much visible but they’re starting to fade. I’ve tried asking Blake why he’s not living with his parents, but he remains very secretive about it.
“I’m hungry,” Kendrick says, his hand on his stomach.
“Me too. You guys want to go get some food?” Blake asks.
“Sure. I just need to shower first.” Kendrick gets up and winces in pain. Tanner got him good. He enters the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.
Will turns to us. “We still haven’t found a girl to play Kendrick’s girlfriend.”
“I know,” Blake sighs. “We tried everything, but no one’s up to the task.”
“Well, then, we don’t have a choice.” Will shrugs, sliding his hand into his pocket to get his phone out.
“What are you doing?” I frown.
“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” he says, dialing a number.
I look at Alex and Blake in confusion. “What’s he doing?”
“Will, we can try again. You don’t have to do that.” Alex begs.
