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“What picture, darling?” she murmurs, tapping on her phone screen. A large gin and tonic rests at her elbow.
I take a deep breath, and then falter. Is this the time to come clean? But if I do, all hell is going to break loose. “Up... up my T-shirt. I wasn’t wearing a bra.”
Mom raises her head and stares straight ahead. Then she puts down her phone and gets to her feet. Relief washes over me. I knew it was the right idea to talk to Mom like an adult. She’s never had time for whining and complaining.
Without warning, anger flashes in Mom’s eyes, and she slaps me hard across the face. “You disgusting girl.”
Pain bursts through my face, and I cry out, covering my cheek with my hand.
“How did this happen?” she seethes.
Now is definitely not the time. It never will be the time. “G-gym class,” I stammer, my eyes burning with tears of pain. “I forgot my sports bra.” The truth is I don’t need a sports bra. My boobs are barely there.
“You come to me with this story and expect me to believe it? You’re whoring around in this town again, aren’t you? It makes me sick to hear about your shameless behavior.”
I flush red to the roots of my hair as I remember the face peering in Connor’s steamy car window. Anyone else would have turned and walked away or minded their own business in the first place, but not my family. Uncle Tomaso yanked open the door and dragged me out of the car by my hair and threw me to the ground. He was yelling horrible names at me at the top of his lungs. Connor couldn’t drive away fast enough.
“Which boy?” says a dangerous voice from the doorway.“What photo? Where is it?”
I stiffen. I didn’t realize Laz was still in the house.
“Why, do you want a copy?” I snarl over my shoulder, and his expression darkens.
I turn back to Mom, but a strong hand grasps my upper arm and drags me from the kitchen. I fight Laz every step of the way, but his bruising fingers don’t let go. He hustles me out the front door and toward his car parked down the street.
“Let mego.”
Laz pushes me into his vehicle and slams the door behind me. With a squeal of tire rubber, we race down the street.
My cheek is still stinging from Mom’s slap, and worse is probably waiting for me when I get home. I haven’t even told her I’m suspended yet.
Laz pulls up and parks by a bridge next to the river. It’s a narrow street with the bridge towering over us and sheltered by trees. Absolutely no one is around. He turns to me with a savage glare.
Before he can accuse me of anything, I say, “I didn’t send anyone a picture of my tits.”
“All right. You didn’t.”
He doesn’t even sneer the words. My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. I wonder why he believes me, and then I realize why with a dismal feeling.
“What’s that face for?” he asks.
“You only believe me because you’d think it was hilarious if I wanted to show these off to anyone.” I wave my hand at my chest.
A smile hooks the corner of his mouth as he glances at my top. “I like your tiny tits.”
I shove his shoulder with the heel of my palm. “Screw you.”
Laz hooks a finger into the neck of my T-shirt. “Don’t believe me? Show ’em to me.”
I swat his hands away. “What? No.”
“Some little shit who’s bald as a baby bird down there has seen your tits and I haven’t. I’ll tell you what you’ve got.”
“The guys at school are eighteen, not twelve.”
His eyes flash. “You mean they’re men? Now I’m jealous. That’s it. Lift up your top.”
He grasps my waist with both hands and slides his thumbs beneath my T-shirt.
