It could’ve been ripped from a dumpster and I wouldn’t have cared. I inhaled two slices. My fingers were greasy, and my stomach was finally not nearly as pissed off at me.

A cold can tapped against my shoulder. He shrugged. “It looked like you could use it.”

I glanced up at the ceiling like they could see me through the floor and rolled the can between my hands.

The hiss and spray of the can opening was followed by his first gulp. “Don’t make me drink alone.”

There was a Knight family rule. If you drank in the house, you couldn’t drive anywhere until the next morning. What waited for me at home? Did I even want to know? Playing with bruised ribs or a fucked-up hand or worse. My stomach threatened revolt.

I tapped the top of the beer. The cold metal against my palm slowed the steep race of my pulse.

Even though he wasn’t looking my way, Knox was watching me. He didn’t know the dirty details, but he knew I didn’t have the warm and fuzzy relationship with my dad that he had with his parents. And I didn’t want him to know any more about it. I’d made it almost this far without being that kid at our school, I wasn’t going to start now.

I pulled the tab on my beer and downed it in one go.

We played video games until midnight. The TV cast a glow of nostalgia over us as we played, and I felt like we were twelve again over the summer, trying to stay awake as late as possible.

Knox’s mom brought down the Dare Bundle filled with oversized pillows and extra-long blankets. Their basement sofa was ten times nicer than my actual bed.

We cleaned everything up and he headed for the stairs.

“Thanks, man.”

“Anytime.” He flipped off the light and headed up the basement stairs.

Alone in the dark, not worried about keeping my guard up, my thoughts drifted back to Bay. Maybe not dragging her into my fucked-up life was for the best. Not having to deal with my bullshit with less than two months until graduation was a gift I could give her.

It was the only gift I had to give anyone—staying away.

15

Bay

The pages in my notebook were filling up.

He’d backed out of my house like I was a newly-turned zombie. After all the poking and prodding to get me to sing for him, he’d bailed the first time I did. What the hell? Dare would give any girl a complex, and I wasn’t one of those girls who’d built up a strong skin over time, knowing exactly the games to play to get a guy to pay attention to them.

Almost all the attention I’d been paid had been accidental. Like someone tripping over me or knocking into me. It was mainly due to people not being aware enough of their surroundings and me not registering on anyone’s ‘pay attention’ meter.