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Chapter Twenty-Seven
Father-figure, Schmather-figure.
I was still waiting for her at my ute every morning.
Just because we couldn’t be friends, didn’t mean I couldn’t give her a lift. I just wasn’t able to give her a lift on Thursday because I needed to run Maddy over to the primary school at the last minute, and they started earlier than us. I had shot Piper a text, though. So, maybe friendly really was doable, if not friends.
At school, I hadn’t had a chance to catch up with her until lunch. I knew she’d be heading out to the oval, so I leant against the wall of the building until she appeared. Then I fell into step with her.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hi.” She nodded.
For all her talk of normal and friends, she was making this just as awkward as I was.
“So, how are things?”
She nodded again. “Yeah, fine. You?”
“Yeah, good. I’m sorry I wasn’t there this morning…”
“What do we say about apologies, Lombardi?”
“That they’re polite, just not necessary.”
One more nod. “Okay. Well, good. Look, I need to go.”
My arm reached for her and brushed her arm, then froze. “If you want a ride home… I’ll be in the carpark.”
She sighed and I knew things weren’t right between us. There was like this gaping chasm we had to try to find our way across was the only way back to each other. Short of getting wings – or a jetpack – I didn’t see how we’d do it. I couldn’t even tell if she wanted to try anymore.
“Sure. I’ll… Maybe. I’ll see you later,” she said before hurrying over to her friends and Mason.
That had sounded pretty final, and I pretended it didn’t feel like a knife to the heart.
She was giving up on this thing as much as I was. It wasn’t for lack of wishing otherwise, at least on my part. In another world, we’d have been perfect for each other and there would have been nothing standing in our way. But we lived in a world where she had a boyfriend and I was no good for myself, let alone someone else.
I kicked the grass and headed for the boys. No doubt Rio would have some words to make me feel even worse. That should do wonders for my mood.
I was walking past Grant, an utter douchebag jock, when I heard him say, “Yeah. I figure Piper’s an easy piece of arse.”
The way his voice was raised, I guessed it was a dig specifically designed for me to hear him. Most people assumed that Piper Barlow was too innocent even for me to corrupt, so it must be true when we said we were just friends. Shitheads like Grant knew better. Shitstains like Grant were the kind of guys to take that and use it not just to their advantage but also to get a rise out of me.
It shouldn’t have, but it did.
I’d fallen back into old patterns hard. I needed the reminder I was a piece of shit. My whole world view, my whole relationship – or lack of – with Piper hinged on that one central truth. Without it, I lost all tethers to reality and I’d spiral into the abyss teetering under my feet.
So I picked a fight with a fucking wrestler.
I whirled on him. “You want to try that again?” I snarled.
Grant smirked. “I figure she’s fair play now. Everyone gets a go before graduation, yeah?”
“You touch her, and I’ll fucking kill you,” I said. Too much. There was too much in my voice, but I couldn’t help myself.
It was bad enoughI’dtouched her. Had I been a stronger man, I might have killed myself for that one.
Grant sneered at me. “I heard she’ll spread her legs for any arsehole now.”
