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He reaches for the door again before another, “Wait,” falls out.
I do care about things. I do take them seriously. That’s part of why I’m doing this—because of how seriously I take Activate Kindness.
My leg starts bouncing, and Troy must be able to tell I’m about to say something important because he comes back to the living room and sits on the chair.
Do it. Just fucking do it. You don’t have a choice.
I do, in fact, have a choice, but considering I really do give a fuck about what happens to people, and I want to help out as much as possible, that takes precedence.
“I’m going to tell you something, but you can’t tell anyone—and I mean fucking no one. Especially Glen and Ellie.”
“Yeah, of course. Are you okay?” he asks, with real concern in his voice. That’s the thing about Troy. He really is a nice guy. My mom would have loved him.
“I volunteer once a week at this place called Activate Kindness…”
I let the words draw out, and Troy gives a chuckle. When he sees my face, it instantly stops. “Oh shit. You’re serious?”
“Fuck off, Troy. You know what? Never mind.”
“Shit. No. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh. It’s just the last thing I expected you to say. Plus, you’re acting like what you have to say is all doom and gloom, and then you’re telling me you volunteer. That’s…really cool.”
I shrug. “I didn’t tell you so I could impress you.” I hate it when people do that, flaunt their good deeds for points. “I told you because your winning this bet sorta fucked with me. I told Dixon, the lead there, that I could get you to do this charity auction where people can bid on you to go on a date with them. I was banking on you not getting an A…I mean, I wanted you to do better, but how in the fuck do you go from an F to an A?”
He sits up taller, clearly pleased with himself.
“Anyway…” I roll my eyes. “Now I’m fucked, and I don’t…” I look away. “I don’t want to let them down. They feed and house people and—”
“I’ll do it,” Troy cuts me off. I meet his eyes, and he adds, “Why do you look so surprised? Of course I’ll help out.”
The thing is, I knew he would. That’s how Troy rolls. I don’t think I would have made the bet if I didn’t believe that, and if that didn’t work out, I would have done it myself.
And now we’re both sitting here in awkward silence because Troy knows I volunteer, and that I want to keep it to myself. He has one of my secrets, and that makes me shift uncomfortably, makes me feel raw and seen by him in a way I never have. I’ve never liked to let people in—even before Mom died, I never liked for people to see the real me, and now I’ve given him that part of myself. I can suck his dick or talk shit to him about him sucking mine, but this moment feels a million times more intimate than that.
“You’re really embarrassed by this.”
“I’m not embarrassed,” I snap. Most people wouldn’t understand or they’d be shocked that someone like me would do something like this. I want to protect it, keep it safe, not have to dissect it with others.
“I’m sorry you didn’t feel like you could share this with me…or that you had to when you didn’t want to. You can trust me, A. This stays between us.”
A breath finally escapes me. We’re both quiet again, and I have no idea what to say, which doesn’t happen often.
It’s Troy who breaks the silence. “I can’t believe you volunteer,” he says playfully. “Atlas has a heart, Atlas has a heart,” he teases, and I can’t help but laugh, feeling lighter.
15
Troy
When I finishmy swing, Glen’s still fishing through the bag for a driver.
“I’m glad you could make it today,” he says.
“Happy to join you.” I fucking hate golf, but spending time with him really matters to Mom. And I’m glad it’s just the two of us since I hate it even more when it’s with a bunch of his snooty coworkers.
“Sorry we didn’t come sooner,” he says. “Got behind at work last month, so I’m glad we made it out here before the holidays.”
“Not a problem.” Hell, I assumed he’d forgotten he’d invited me, but now that I’m here with him, there’s something I have to get off my chest. “You really should consider inviting Atlas to come out sometime.”
I tell myself it’s because my stepbrother deserves to suffer through this too, but I know the real reason I’m pressing: because Atlas is the one he should be inviting, not me. And it seems that no matter how many times I bring this to Glen’s attention, it doesn’t change anything.
