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Kayla glances this way after her father leaves.
Her glee falters the second our eyes lock, and I’m disappointed she won’t smile for me.
It’s a fucking struggle to look away. The girl is quite the visual poetry: glowing brown skin that appears kissed by the sun, pretty tar-black, curly hair, and challenging cinnamon shade eyes.
Swiftly cutting her gaze from me, Kayla’s smile zaps back into place as Sam Davis, Eric’s former crush, arrives. They enter the building together.
“Anyway,” Britney’s voice breaks in again. “Mom is driving me crazy. She’s pushing me harder than ever.”
“Just fucking tell her to back off,” I grumble and rub the nape of my neck, bothered by Kayla for some reason.
Britney frowns. “It’s hard to do that. What’s with you, though?”
“Nothing. Mom picking you up again?”
“Uh, yeah. I just told you that.” Annoyed, she stomps off to Irene’s group.
I continue inside.
Eric and Steve are chatting by the lockers.
“Sup, Bran,” Eric greets as I approach.
We nod to each other. Never a fist-bump or half-hug. Both have known about my issue with contact since freshman year, and they understand—especially Eric, since he’s our neighbor and hangs out with me the most.
“Heath’s throwing a party on Friday after the game,” Steve says to me. “Interested?”
“Yeah, it’s a seniors’ thing,” Eric adds.
They both watch me with hopeful expressions.
Parties are problematic. Girls become braver with me when alcohol is in their system.
While I do have needs and have considered consensual sex to erase the horror in my past, it’s too risky. I don’t want to hurt anyone.
“I’ll pass,” I say, straight-faced, and turn to my locker.
“All right, man,” Steve mutters in a tone that declares he expected that answer.
He wheels away as Irene comes strolling by with her friends, Britney included.
Steve snakes his arm around his girlfriend’s waist to slow her down for a kiss, drawing oohs.
My gaze pierces through everyone to Kayla across the hallway. She’s conversing with Sam and Rajid Burman.
They laugh at something, and I’m unable to stop myself from appreciating the contagious and sweet sounds that leave Kayla’s mouth.
“Brit didn’t even acknowledge me,” Eric complains. “Did you see that, man? She just walked by like I don’t exist.”
I refocus on him. “Well, you did hit her ex after she told you not to.”
“Christian played her. I couldn’t let it go.”
Smirking, I regard him with a tapered gaze. “And you were jealous. How about you and Brit stop playing games and admit how you feel about each other?”
His eyes widen. “Bran, listen—”
“I’ve known since last year,” I interject. “Don’t bother denying it.”
