AllFreeNovel
Share Us
That draws a chuckle from Daze, but it doesn’t grate on my nerves like before.
“It’s a good thing then that I’m not hitting on you. I’m not kissing you, either,” he says more seriously.
“Good.” I scoff. I’m still not offended. I’m not. “Because I wouldn’t—”
Skin. Contact. Heat. I don’t realize it’s his teeth my tongue is pressed against until I taste him. Messy. Sloppy. Open.
We’re miss-matched and uncoordinated, worse than even my first childhood kiss under the swing set in Nanna’s backyard. Right when I accidentally bite his tongue, he breaks away, chuckling.
“No offense. But you’re a fucking terrible kisser.” But a smile shapes his lips and...
It’s sobroken. Like he’s only half here, with the rest of him far away again, chasing some invisible high. All I can do is remember my still burning cigarette, and I inhale from the end. Maybe I’m imagining things, but he’s looking at me again.Reallylooking. So I keep smoking even as my eyes water. For some reason, his attention seems worth the discomfort.
“So tell me, Blondie. You’ve stuck around this long. Why?”
The question comes just as I choke out another cloud of smoke. Frowning, I watch the tufts drift and fade.
It’s so quiet here. There’s just the two of us in this whole building. Two bodies trapped within yards and yards of space. Every move echoes. Every breath. Every sigh.
Every bit of hesitation.
“Do you mean here with you?” I finally question. “Or here in general—”
“Don’t play dumb.” He’s impatient again. Clarity in him comes and goes, but when it returns, it’s like bursts of heat against frostbitten skin, worse than the entire congregation’s judgment.
“Would you believe I’d rather not be alone?” I eye my fingers rather than observe him directly. “I was supposed to be volunteering this morning. Pretending like everything is better, and my brother isn’t dead.”
Despite eyeing my nails, I sense him stiffen.
“So rather than hug the homeless or whatever it is you people do, you decided to kill yourself?”
He’s not mocking me anymore. My skin feels itchy beneath his judgment, like a suit that’s too tight. Hale hated wearing them. He loathed getting dressed up in general—mainly because of what it meant. Another dinner. Another event. Another charade to pretend and smile.
In his casket, however, he wore a tailored black one Father picked out. Black wasn’t even his favorite color.
Blue was.
“What else was I supposed to do?” I inquire out loud. Tears prickle at my eyes, but by the time I rub at them, it’s too late. More beads of moisture escape my fingers and paint my cheeks.
I wait a few more seconds before I realize that Daze doesn’t have an answer.
“And you?” I ask rudely. “Why were you there so early? You can’t tell me anything?”
I’m shamelessly prying, but it’s only fair. An eye for an eye. Lately, I’ve been so wrapped up in myself, I barely remember what it feels like to listen and not scream. To wait in silence while someone else weighs their answers. It’s annoying. No wonder so many people ignore me.
But for some reason, I can’t ignore him.
“We can start with why you’re in a gang.” I nod to his neck tattoo.
“A gang,” he parrots coldly. “But you don’t seem afraid.”
Deep down, I know I should be.
“What the hell do you even know about agang?” Daze shifts just enough to ram his shoulder into mine. It’s not a violent gesture, at least I don’t think, but he’s so damn huge. My entire body shifts as he settles next to me.
“I know you look like you could be a criminal,” I point out, rubbing my arm. “Considering the blood on your hands.”
His jaw clenches, and he cuts his gaze to the wall beyond me. “It’s paint,” he grunts. “And, baby girl, I don’t think you’d know a criminal if one pissed on your shoe.”
