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“No. I haven’t run into anyone hanging around me that I know of. How ’bout Lizzie?”
“Nothing Hunter or Sarah have seen.”
“How is she?”
“Sarah? She’s great. She—”
“Jerk.”
“Lizzie’s holding her own. Sad. Going to classes, though.” Drey shushed his baby. “You did the right thing, you know.”
“Fucking saint I am.” Sure felt like shit, though.
“Things could change. After a while. Once all this shit is behind us.”
“If it ever is.” I hugged my baby tighter. Seemed like he was quieting down, finally. “She’s better off with some college kid who’s able to do something with his life.”
“What if you became a college kid who’s doing something with his life?”
“Like what? I’m not sure professional baby rocker is a job.”
“There’re options. You’re kicking ass learning this being blind stuff. Teach it. There are others dealing with what you’re dealing with. Or think of those born blind. There’re schools for this.”
“Me? A teacher?” I huffed. “That’ll be the day.”
“Why the hell not? You mastered living on your own really well. And fast. You’re cooking for yourself. Dressing yourself—though you do realize you have one black shoe on and one blue one, right?”
“Jerk-off.”
“Just sayin’. Something you might want to consider.”
“Maybe after we get this Walker thing done.Maybe.”
But he did have a point. I was even getting the hang of this Braille stuff. It was slow going, for sure, but whatifI could get my shit together and actually land a job somewhere?
Chapter Fifty-Four
Lizzie
“Hey,Trent.”Ihustledto him.
“You made it!” He handed me a ticket. “Thought you were gonna leave me hanging.”
I almost had. Twice. But Sarah and Angelina were right. This was just for fun. Relaxing after our hard test and a week of studying.
“Hope you like vampires,” he teased.
“As long as they stay away from my neck, we’re good.” I followed him in, avoiding the breaks in the tile.
Damn crack thing had come back and bit me in the ass lately. But I had a horde of Blow Pops in my purse and a raging desire to get lost in a vampire movie. This was exactly what I needed.
Trent tugged me by the hand to the candy counter. “I wasn’t sure what you might want, so I waited. Soda? Candy?”
Trent stood about a hair under six feet. His blond hair was cut close to his head, and he had a strong, square jaw. Sarah was right. He was hot. Fit, too, the way his muscles pressed the arms of his short-sleeve shirt.
“Lizzie?”
“Oh, what?”
