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“So what do you need to talk to me about?” I finally ask, propping my boot up on the brick wall behind me and slanting back. “I’m guessing it’s pretty top secret if we had to come all the way outside.”
He rubs his lips together, his gaze piercing into me. “I wanted to talk to you about the bandage on your wrist.”
“Good Lord,” I gripe, my head bobbing back. “Will you drop this?”
“Not until you tell me what happened.”
“It’s not a big deal, so let it go.”
“If it’s not a big deal, then why don’t you just tell me what happened?” He slips his hands from his pockets and scratches his arm. “Did …? Did Amelia do something to you?”
“That girl who was over at my house this morning?” I ask, and he nods. I bust up laughing. “You think that chick could hurt me? Seriously?”
“I already told you she’s tougher—and crazier—than she looks,” he reminds me. “And she’s Axel’s daughter, so …”
“So what?” I work to get my laughter under control. “You think Axel’s going to send his daughter to come after me? If that’s the case, then I have nothing to worry about.” At least when it comes to Axel.
Blaise’s dad, however, is an entirely separate problem.
“He might.” Blaise stares at the road down the alleyway with a pucker between his brows. “This morning, Amelia invited me to a party.” He meets my gaze. “She said she invited you, and that you agreed to go.”
“Well, she’s full of shit,” I tell him. “Because I never talked to her. In fact, the only other person I talked to at school today was your sister.”
His forehead creases. “Yeah, how did that happen anyway? I didn’t even realize you two knew each other.”
“We didn’t really. Still don’t. But we decided to try to feel out the whole friendship thing and see if we click.”
“But why?” he wonders skeptically. “I mean, no offense to my sister, but she hasn’t had a real friend since grade school.”
“Really?” I ask, and he nods. “Why? She seems cool and everything.”
“Well, some of it has to do with her mother. She’s a real piece of work and has done a lot of shit over the years that lead to Scarlett getting bullied.” He blows out a breath. “The other part has to do with a couple of years ago. Something happened to Scarlett and people refuse to let it go.”
I have a vague idea of what he’s referring to—the time Scarlett was sent to a psychiatric hospital.
“Well, people suck. At least those kinds of people.”
“Yeah, they do.” He searches my eyes. “Do you know what happened to Scarlett?”
“I have a vague idea, but only because I saw some stuff when I was looking up info about you guys.”
“And that doesn’t bother you?”
I shrug. “Everyone’s got their issues, including me, so who am I to judge?” I lower my foot to the asphalt and straighten. “Besides, I don’t even know the whole story yet, and from my experience, not everything is always what it seems.”
He smashes his lips together, bobbing his head up and down, his fiery gaze driving me damn crazy. “You really are different.”
“And you tell me that all the time.”
“Well, you are.”
“So are you.”
“I’m okay with that.”
“So am I.”
A beat skips by, and then he smiles. “You know, I was a little skeptical when Scarlett said you two were hanging out at lunch today. No offense, but you both sort of draw trouble, and I thought it might be a disaster. But I’m starting to think that maybe it’s a good thing.”
