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"Maddox," I sighed. "I shouldn't have said that."
"Addy, I'm not going to call child protective services. I just want to know." I wasn't worried about who would call; I was over the age of eighteen. They couldn't remove me from the home anymore. I didn't want to get anyone else involved in the drama. I also didn't want anyone's pity.
"My dad passed away a few years ago," I said, falling back onto my bed. "After that, my mom lost her battle with alcoholism. She pretty much stays drunk. She brings men home from the bar a lot. Some stay for a while, and some don't."
"Do they hurt you?" he asked, turning his head towards me. I didn't look at him, though. I couldn't. "Addy?" I didn't answer; I just pointed to all the extra bolts and locks I added to my bedroom door.
"You should probably go," I whispered, exhaling a shaky breath. Tears stung the back of my eyes, but I forced myself to hold them back. I hated talking about this kind of stuff. "Don't you have like a curfew or something?"
"No," he whispered. "My mom likes men, too. She usually doesn't bring them home; she doesn't usually come home at all." He shoved up from the bed. "Addy, if you ever need a safe place to crash, you can always crash with me."
"Thanks," I sighed. "I'll be fine."
We both stood from the bed, making our way toward the open window. He paused, turning to me like he needed to say something. His eyes said he wanted to kiss me, but he didn't. He climbed out the window without another word, and I wondered if I had done something wrong.
TEN
ADDISON
The next day was the day before Maddox's test. We'd studied every free period he had, including lunch, and he was struggling for the first time since we'd started tutoring. He was struggling with the concept of how to evaluate parametric equations. We'd studied the entire chapter, and he was no closer to grasping the concept than when we'd started.
"Hey." Maddox smiled, leaning against the bookcase, his hands shoved in his pockets. I glanced at my watch: one-fifty-five. He was early for tutoring. "Coach called a mandatory practice. Come watch me, and we can go to my place after and finish studying."
"No thanks." I smiled politely. It wasn't that I didn't want to go because I definitely did. I didn't want to be put on display for the mean girls again. I'd prefer to hide in my safe place where the mean girls never came—the library.
"I wasn't asking." He smirked, crossing his arms over his chest and cocking his head to the side. "You can come willingly, or I can tote you over my shoulder out to the field." He wouldn't. Would he? No, of course, he wouldn't.
"I have a few..." I didn't finish my sentence before his arms dropped to his side, and he charged at me like a linebacker. He leaned over, grabbed me, and tossed me over his shoulder. "Maddox, put me down." I struggled against him, but he only tightened his grip. "I'll go."
"Too late, now." I could hear the smirk in his cocky tone.
"Why do I need to watch your practice?" I groaned, gripping his shirt to steady myself as he pushed through the library doors.
"Don't pretend like you don't watch my practices, Addy." He laughed. "I've seen you under the bleachers." My cheeks burned with embarrassment. He'd seen me watching him all these years. "Now, you don't have to hide anymore. We're friends, right?"
"Friends," I repeated. We were friends. Maddox Parker was my friend.
He carried me effortlessly through the halls, still filled with students, and out to the field, every head turning to watch along the way. All their wide-eyed stares wondered why the most popular guy in school was carrying the biggest nobody like a rag doll. Most of them probably didn't even know I existed until right now.
* * *
After practice,Maddox and I settled on his living room floor to study. We'd been working on the same chapter all day, but Maddox still struggled to grasp the concept.
"There's no way I'm going to get this by tomorrow." He blew out an exasperated sigh, slouching back against the sofa.
"Look, trigonometry is hard," I reassured him. "You will get it. It just takes time."
"I don't have time," he groaned. "Tomorrow is my test."
He was stressing, only making it worse, and I wasn't sure how to help him. Stressing was only going to cause him to shut down, and if he shut down, he would go into that test tomorrow with zero confidence and fail.
"How about an incentive." I smiled. "You get it right and..." I trailed off, my eyes darting around the room, thinking of what I could use to entice him not to give up.
"How about," he cut me off, his deep voice lowered as he leaned forward, "for every question I get right, you remove an article of clothing." My breath hitched. That was not the direction I was expecting this to go, but I knew football was as important to him as art was to me. He would lose his outlet if he couldn't play, and I didn't want that for him. Without art, I didn't know where I would be today.
"Deal." I smiled. Even though I would be uncomfortable, it would take his mind off the test and he'd focus on getting me out of my clothes or, even better, keeping his clothes on. "But for every question you get wrong, you have to remove an article of clothing." I leaned forward, my words coming out more confident than I felt.
"Deal." He said it so quickly that I realized he wasn't concerned about being naked.
