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“That’s none of your business.”
His laugh is mocking. He brushes both his hands through his disheveled hair. The muscles in his ripped arms flex in all the right places. My eyes go big, and I place a hand on my stomach, silently cursing the butterflies in there. I shouldn’t be having these feelings. Not now, not when it will lead to nowhere. My eyes skim over his dark jeans, ripped at the knees. I spot the tattoos on his ribcage, and his neck. I furrow my brows. There’s a razor blade tattooed in black below his jaw. I never really noticed it before.
“Why did you get that?” I ask, pointing to his neck, squinting.
He flashes me a sly grin. “Got it on the road.”
“Does it have any meaning?” I ask, meeting his eyes.
“The past.” He turns his head away, like he’s embarrassed.
“Really?”
He adjusts the front of his pants, his hand lingering on his waistband. “Yeah, really.”
“You’re not going to tell me more, are you?” I ask.
He matches my smile. “You may think I’m…” He snaps his mouth closed.
“What?”
“It’s to remind me the cut you inflict on yourself is always the deepest. The rest, what others do to you, is only superficial.”
I’m speechless.
“Fuck,” he says, his bright blue eyes darting to my mouth. He wets his lips. “Hadn’t told anybody that.”
“I’m glad you told me.”
His gaze darts over my face. “Want to sit outside so we can talk? We could go to the track. It’s clear out—probably can catch a couple stars if you’re into that kind of shit.” He pulls on a black shirt, combing both his hands through his unkempt hair. “Man I sound like a fucking…shit.” He grins, putting on his Vans. “I promised Drew I wouldn’t swear so much around people.”
I stifle a giggle. “And how’s it working out for you?”
He rolls his eyes. A lopsided grin warms his face. “Fuck if I know. You win some, you lose some.” He winks at me. “So, outside—better than sitting in this pigsty?” he asks, straightening his shoulders.
I take a deep breath, trying not to pay any attention to the butterflies fluttering around in my stomach. “Sure,” I say, following him.
In silence, we walk to the track. He helps me get onto the hill. “Watch out. It’s pretty steep here,” offering me his hand.
“Th…thank you,” I stutter, grabbing hold of him. He stares at our linked hands. When I smile, he lets go like I’ve burned him.
Plopping down next to him, I shiver when the cold sand hits my butt. Hunter’s right. It’s a clear night, and there are so many stars illuminating the black sky.
“Right there is Orion,” Hunter says, pointing to a cluster of stars.
I lie back, taking in the vastness. “Where do you think we all go?” I mutter under my breath.
He shrugs. “Into the great unknown.”
“I’m being serious,” I say, playfully slapping his shoulder.
He turns his head toward mine, his breath ghosting over my lips. “My father always said a place where you’re free, like in that song,” he says, staring at the sky.
“‘Free Bird’, you mean?”
“Yeah. How did you know?” he asks, matching my smile.
“Jay loved to listen to Lynyrd Skynyrd when I was a kid. He gave me this necklace.” I show him the silver bird. “Jay wanted to be free. I guess he found freedom out here with you guys,” I whisper, swallowing back the lump in my throat.
