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“Thanks for driving me back,” she said once I pulled to the curb.
She unbuckled her seat belt, and I unbuckled mine, following her to the front door. I didn’t want to go back home. I wished that I hadn’t made things fucking awkward. We had been having a good time at the skatepark. What the fuck was wrong with me?
When we reached the door, Vera said a quick goodbye to me and walked into the house, bumping into her mother.
“Go ahead, sweetheart,” Ms. Rodriguez said, nudging Vera into the house. “I want to talk to Blaise about something.”
Vera eyed her mother for a moment, and then she gave me a small smile and disappeared into the hallway. I stuffed my hands into my jeans pockets and nodded.
“Is something wrong?” I asked, nervous because I didn’t want her to stop me from seeing Vera.
That was what my parents had done years ago. And I wouldn’t blame Ms. Rodriguez if that was what she wanted to do now—hurt me in order to get back at my parents after all these years. Little did she know that they didn’t give a fuck about me. They wouldn’t care.
“We’re having a small get-together with some of Mateo’s friends for his birthday on Sunday,” she said, smiling softly at me, accentuating the wrinkles by her eyes. “It’s nothing huge, but I wanted to invite you to stop by.”
My eyes widened. “Me?”
Mom and Dad might’ve forced me to attend some prestigious birthday parties for their friends and coworkers, but I hadn’t ever really known the people enough to want to go. Hell, nobody I knew ever really invited me anywhere.
Now, this family—Vera’s family—was inviting me to a birthday party?
“It’s nothing big,” she reassured. “And only if you have time. If you’re busy, don’t worry—”
“I’ll be there,” I said breathily and with a smile. “I’ll definitely be there.”
ChapterThirty-Eight
BLAISE
After I dropped off Vera, I drove back home. Mom’s car was parked in the garage.
“You’ve been out all night,” Mom said, crossing her skinny-ass arms and pursing her fake lips at me when I entered the house. After journeying across the room, she stood in those slutty heels of hers at the door. “What did I say about coming home late, Blaise?”
“Yeah, whatever,” I grunted.
Usually, I’d tell her off or curse her out. Throw a temper tantrum to get her attention—whether that be the good or the bad—and make her scream at me for ruining her house. But tonight, I couldn’t seem to give a damn about her attention anymore.
All I wanted was Vera’s. And all I had gotten from her today was fear, disgust.
“Are you even listening to me?” she asked, unfastening her diamond earrings.
After kicking off my shoes, I walked up the stairs without so much as a response. It wasn’t like she actually cared for one. She tried to mother me to feel better about herself for her and Dad spending ninety percent of their lives away.
“I’m speaking to you, Blaise Harleen,” she shouted.
I continued up the stairs with my skateboard and phone, staring at the marble floor and feeling so empty. I wished that I hadn’t told Vera anything in the first fucking place. It was too soon, and I didn’t know if Iliked, liked her like that.
Fuck, I couldn’t know after only a few days. But maybe I could after fourteen years of wishing something would happen with her, of pushing away any guy who showed interest in her, of flirting with the women in Redwood’s front office so they’d switch me into any classes that I could get with her.
It wasn’t fucking fair. I’d had one fucking chance, and I’d ruined it.
“Blaise!” Mom shouted.
“What?!” I snapped, twirling around from the top of the stairs and glaring down at her. “What the fuck do you want? You want me to get out of your hair, and I fucking do that. And now, you’re fucking screaming at me for it. Shut the fuck up.”
Mom stared at me with wide eyes and placed a hand over her chest, as if she was stunned, as if I’d never screamed at her before, as if she fucking cared about me at all. All she gave a fuck about was herself.
A moment passed, and she cleared her throat. “Don’t speak to me like that.”
