Page 31 of Pumped

My heart hurts at how dejected she sounds and I don’t want to press the issue, but I need to know.

“Did someone hit you?”

She shakes her head slowly. “No.”

“Did someone call you names?”

She wriggles on the seat like she’s uncomfortable. “Maybe.”

“Was it someone in your class?”

She nods. “Chad.”

Chad. Sounds like a douchebag name. “What did Chad say?” I ask as anger rises to a simmer inside me. Who is this fucking Chad kid and where do I find him so I can return the favor?

“He…” Ivy takes a deep breath, like having to tell the story is physically draining. “He said that I don’t have a mommy or a daddy. He called me a or-fin.”

Orphan? Is this fucking kid for real? How the hell does he even know that word at six years old? Anger heats to a boil in my veins, hot and violent, threatening to burst from me.

Does Owen know about this? How can he be so fucking calm about it?I need to check in with the hospital—my ass. We need to be raising holy hell over this. That kid needs to be taught a lesson. He needs to pay.

I toss the towel into the sink and spin around to go give Owen a piece of my mind, only to find him standing just outside the bathroom. The fucker moves like a cat sometimes.

“Did you know about this?” I spit out, clenching my teeth to keep my anger in check.

“Not that part,” he says, way too cool and collected for my taste. Christ, he gets more animated when talking about the goddamn weather.

“What are we going to do about it?”

He cocks an infuriating eyebrow. “What do youwantto do about it?”

Outrage and frustration rage inside me, but before I can unleash it on Owen, the doorbell rings. We stare at each other.

“Are you…?” I start.

“No. You?”

I shake my head. We make a beeline for the front door.

On our doorstep is a woman and when we open the outer door, it reveals a child. A boy. About Ivy’s age.

“Hi, I’m Scarlett Kimball, Chad’s mom. Are you Ivy’s uncles?”

I’m stunned by fury and disbelief.Thisis Chad? This scrawny little shrimp of a boy? He’s so small, I could dropkick him across a football field.Hedared call my Ivy—my perfect angel Ivy—names?

But here he is, standing in front of our door with his mom who looks genuinely embarrassed and ashamed. He’s got the hem of his coat fisted in his tiny hands, chin to chest, hunched in on himself like he wants to disappear into the ground. He doesn’t look like a bully. He looks kind of pathetic.

“Yes. I’m Owen Lambert. This is Everest Wheeler. Would you like to come in?”

My head snaps around at Owen’s request.Would they like to come in?Why in the world would we want to invite them inside our house? We should make them stand on the stoop, in the fucking cold.

“That’s so kind. We won’t take up too much of your time. Chad just needs to say something to Ivy.” Scarlett gives her son a nudge and he stomps up the remaining steps.

Owen moves to the side, pushing me out of the way at the same time, and ushers them into the foyer. “Ivy! Can you come down here for a minute?”

Small footsteps make it halfway down the stairs before they stop. When I glance up, Ivy’s got Zuzi under one arm, and she’s clutching a post on the banister with the other, staring wide-eyed at Chad. Fear is written all across her face.

Thisis why I didn’t want them in our house. Ivy’s already traumatized and Owen’s just making it worse.

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