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As I trudge after him, Rhyland whispers to me, “Go easy on him this morning, okay? He’s really stressed out about some stuff and is having a rough morning.” He doesn’t wait for me to nod, just waves and takes off down the hallway.
“You coming?” Blaise asks grumpily from the doorway
My initial instinct is to fire a snarky remark at him, but Rhyland’s words replay in my head, so I end up just nodding. Call me a softy, but I have a tender spot for people who are stressed out, especially eighteen-year-olds who have guardianship over their younger brothers, and maybe his sister, too.
While mine and Blaise’s stories aren’t exactly the same, they’re pretty close. What I wonder, though, is: how did he get guardianship of his siblings? Not just in the sense of legal terms, but what led him to the point where things were so bad that he decided he needed to become a parent at eighteen? It’s kind of remarkable when I really think about it, and tragically sad at the same time. That he had to do something so selfless—giving up his future for his siblings. And as much as I’ve despised Blaise over the last week or so, I question if he’s a better person than me in some ways.
Because, while I may ponder the idea of getting guardianship of my sisters, I’ve never actually looked into it, even with how bad my dad is getting. Instead, I’ve been daydreaming of taking off. Of making my life better.
Does that make me a bad person? A selfish one?
I’m not sure, but the thought makes a heavy amount of guilt weigh down on my shoulders.
Chapter 17
Blaise and I spend the next ten minutes silently driving toward town in his SUV. He doesn’t even turn the radio on to fill the silence. I’m left wanting to bang my head against the window. Seriously, I’m getting so desperate I’m even starting to miss arguing with him. Plus, he hasn’t told me where we’re going.
About fifteen minutes into the drive, Blaise receives a text. After reading the message, he mutters, “Fuck, he’s worse than I thought.” Then he drops his phone into the cupholder and grows quiet again.
Finally, I can’t take the maddening silence and uncertainty anymore.
“So, are you going to tell me where we’re going and what I’ll be doing for you?”
His jaw is set tight as he focuses on the road. “I’m still deciding what part I’m going to have you play in this. As for where we’re going, it’s to a house Alex is at.”
Okay, evasive much?
“And why are we going there?” I check the time on the dashboard clock. “And how long is this going to take? I’m supposed to drive my sisters to school this morning.”
“Shit, I didn’t even think about that.” He rakes his fingers through his hair then gives me a sidelong glance. “Can Londyn maybe drive them? This might take a bit.”
“How long is a bit? Because school starts in less than an hour.”
He rubs his lips together. “Yeah, you might be a little late.”
“Being late to school wasn’t part of the deal,” I stress. “And I can’t be late. Not after being tardy to all my morning classes yesterday, and then skipping out on the last half of the day.”
He looks at me with one hand resting on the wheel. “Yeah, I noticed you weren’t in last period. What was that about?”
“We have last period together?” I ask, and he nods. I’m not sure whether to frown or not. I don’t know how I feel about him after what I heard last night and with what Rhyland just told me.
Conflicted. That’s what I am. Conflicted because he sometimes seems like a nice guy, yet seems like an asshole other times.
The edges of his lips kick up into a smile, but his eyes remain clouded with worry. “Aw, come on. You don’t need to look so sad about it. I promise not to bug you too much. Or, well, at least I’ll try not to.”
“I’m not sad,” I reply with a shrug. “I’m undecided.”
His brow meticulously arches. “About what exactly?”
“About having you in my classes.”
“Hmmm … Interesting.”
“No, not really.”
He assesses me closely. “Actually, it sort of is.”
I refuse to squirm under his unwavering gaze. “And why’s that?”
He shrugs, refocusing on the road. “Because, if you’re undecided about me being in another one of your classes, it means you’re undecided about me.”
“And that’s a good thing because …?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know.”
“Okay …” God, this is the most evasive conversation ever.
We grow silent again as Blaise stares at the road, drumming his fingers on top of the steering wheel. Since it clearly seems like he doesn’t want to talk or give me any sort of confirmation about how long we’re going to be or what we’re even doing, I dig out my phone and send Londyn a text.
Me: Hey, so I’m gonna need you to drive everyone to school today.
Londyn: What!? Why?
Me: Because my first favor is going to probably take too long for me to get back in time.
Londyn: That’s so not cool. You need to make sure Blaise understands that you can’t be late for school.
Me: Yeah, I’ll try.
Londyn: Don’t try. Do.
Me: All right, boss.
Londyn: Sorry. I’m not trying to be bossy, but we can’t let these guys walk all over us.
Me: Hey! Think about who you’re talking to. You know there’s no way I’ll let that happen. Blaise just didn’t inform me until we were way across town that this favor is going to take a while. But I made it clear being late for school is so not cool with me.
Londyn: Good. You may be in some stupid, twisted bet with him, but that doesn’t mean he gets to mess up school for you. And what are you even doing for him?
Me: Not sure yet, but I think it has something to do with Alex.
Londyn: You need to be careful then. He’s the worst. I know he’s the one who put those flyers up.
Me: Yeah, me, too.
I want to tell her about the conversation I overheard last night between Alex and Blaise, but I don’t want to think about it myself.
We text for a bit longer until she finally agrees to drive everyone, and by the time I pocket my phone, Blaise is driving past the last of the houses lining the main road and steering out onto the highway.
“We’re really far out here,” I comment, glancing at the trees and desolate farmland bordering the road.
Shit, should I be worried? I mean, I’m a girl in a car alone with a guy who has a questionable police record. Sure, I know some self-defense, but that doesn’t mean I want to put myself in a situation where I’d have to try to use my skills.
“I’m sorry. This is probably really weird. I know that.” Blaise slows down and flips on the blinker. “I promise nothing bad’s going to happen. Or, well, at least not to you. Alex, on the other hand, is about to get into some deep shit.” He turns down a dirt road that winds into the hills.
“Why?” I ask, gripping the handle above me as the road becomes bumpy. “What’d he do?”
He grips the wheel tighter as we hit another bump. “Nothing he hasn’t done before, which is why I’m so pissed off. He never fucking learns his lessons.” He blows out a deafening breath, his gaze sliding to mine. “Look, for my first favor, can you just not tell anyone what you’re about to witness?”
My nerves rise a notch. “Um, yeah … just as long as it’s not like a hardcore crime where someone’s hurting someone, then yeah, I can do that.”
“The only person getting hurt is Alex, and he’s doing it to himself,” he replies tightly, his knuckles whitening on the wheel.
I should feel better. Not telling anyone about this seems like an easy enough favor. And I shouldn’t care that Alex is hurting himself—the guy is a jerk. But the look in Blaise’s eyes … the self-tormenting guilt over something he can’t control … yeah, I’ve been there. With my sisters. With my father. Even with myself sometimes.
I swallow down the pain c
reeping up on me the best I can as Blaise parks in front of a singlewide trailer at the end of the bumpy road. The siding is peeling off, all the windows are boarded up, and half the roof is covered up with a tarp. The landscaping isn’t any better-looking either; the grass yellowing and covered in old car parts and tires. I’ve lived in my fair share of dumpy places and areas, but this house gives all those a run for their money. I mean, at least the homes we lived in had roofs.
“So, whose place is this?” I wonder as Blaise silences the engine.
He makes no move to get out, resting his arms on top of the steering wheel as he stares at the trailer. “It’s an … acquaintance of my father’s.”
“Oh.” His infamous father, the criminal who my dad might be working for. Lovely.
Blaise’s gaze skates to me. “From your tone, I’m guessing you’ve heard about my dad.”
