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He glances back at me. “Yeah, he had to work today.”
“Oh,” I murmur.
I tell myself I wasn’t hoping to see him, anyway. I wasn’t looking forward to the playful gleam I would see in his eye or the woefully inappropriate remark he would make about me sleeping in his bed without panties last night.
But I can’t shake the disappointment when I get into my car and drive away without ever laying eyes on Mr. Granville.
___
Jet and I didn’t have plans for a fake date tonight, but when Mom brings Larry home to hang out, I start poking around for an invite.
I don’t want to come out and ask if I can come over, and since it’s the weekend, I can’t tell him it’s because I have chemistry homework I need help with.
I scroll through his social media, reviewing the responses to his latest posts, but I don’t see anything from Brylee White.
I swipe the window away and pull up my text chain with Jet. “No word from Brylee yet, huh?”
Usually he responds right away, but he must be doing something because a few minutes pass before he answers. “No, not yet, but she wasn’t following me. It might help if you post something. Different people follow you, so maybe then she’ll see it.”
“Maybe,” I answer. I hesitate, waiting to see if he concocts a reason for me to come over, but a minute passes and no new text.
Chewing on my bottom lip, I debate for a moment, but decide not to text back. I would like to get out of the house, but I don’t want to feel like a clinger—I’m not even his real girlfriend!
Besides, I don’t need saving. So what if I have to spend the evening locked in my room to hide out from my mom and her latest boyfriend? I’ve done it plenty of times before.
I put on my headphones and try to get some studying done while they yuck it up in the other room. While I’m studying, I pull up Metallica’s Greatest Hits and listen to a few songs so I can get a feel for what kind of music Milo likes.
The second song on the album is called “The Day That Never Comes,” and I like that one a lot. When it ends, I play it again. I end up listening to the entire rest of the album, bobbing my head while I do my homework.
I get so caught up in the music that I don’t notice when my bedroom door opens.
Apparently deducing I’m ignoring her despite my focus not shifting in her direction and my obvious bobbing to music withheadphones on my ears, my mother storms in. I hardly have time to register movement in my direction and she’s ripping them off my head. A lock of hair gets stuck in the headband as she rips.
“Ouch!” I shout, coming up off the bed. Instinctively, I put out a hand to shove her away as she continues yanking on the headphones, and my hair with it.
“Oh yeah?” she says, smiling malevolently. “You want to fight with me, Kennedy?” She shoves my chest, knocking me back onto the bed.
“I’m not trying to fight you, you fucking psycho. You’re pulling my hair.”
She yanks harder, ripping those strands of hair out and freeing the headphones.
“Jesus.” I place a hand on my head, but tentatively, since I might need to block an attack. “What iswrongwith you?”
“What’s wrong with me?” she echoes, nodding. “I’m not the one, honey. You don’t want to fuck with me.”
“Oh my god. Grow up, Mom. Seriously.”
Her eyebrows shoot up in utter disbelief. I register more movement from my peripherals and look to Larry standing in the doorway of my room, scratching his belly, a can of beer in his other hand.
“She is a little bitch, isn’t she?” he says.
“I’ll show her a bitch,” Mom says before digging her nails into the buttery leather ear pads on my expensive headphones and tearing them off.
“Mom, stop! Those were expensive—” I grab for them, but she pulls them out of reach, then backs up and starts slamming them against the top of my dresser. “Mom, stop!” Rage burns inside me, igniting a sting of tears behind my eyes, which pisses me off even more. “Stop!”
She claws my chest pushing me away as I try to reach for the headphones. Apparently seeing his damsel in distress, Larry puts down his beer long enough to come into the bedroom and bear hug me from behind to pull me away from her. My skin crawls as his meaty arms form bands over my boobs and he drags me back toward the hall.
“Get your hands off me,” I scream, bringing my elbow back into his fleshy side.
