Page 90 of Hide and Keep

“The fuck it isn’t.”

“Since when?”

Since I saw a man embracing her and had the urge to gut him on the spot. Contrary to what Ever said, I’m not a murderer, and obviously, the best way to stop those urges is to stop the embraces.Allembraces.

“Since my talk with your father this morning,” I lie. Between our run this morning and Ever’s school, I didn’t have time to speak with Arthur. I probably could’ve during breakfast but no one talks during that. No one talks during dinner either. Every meal with Arthur so far has been silent and tense.

Eyes hard, Ever opens her mouth, then closes it.

Finally, she whispers, “There is no stalker.”

“Then go tell your friends that. Let your clones in on that little secret, too. Oh, and every Littoral employee while you’re at it.” I didn’t get around to talking to every Littoral employee yet, but just about.

Crossing her arms under her chest and pushing those tiny titties up, she says, “Nathen is my base. He has to touch me. Lots of people on the team have to touch me.”

“During cheerleading…sure,” I allow…barely.

Her arms drop by her sides, some of her fight leaving her. “You sound so stupid every time you say cheerleading. It’s cheer. You can just say cheer.”

“Your friends sound stupid every time they call you Zero. Your name’s Ever. They can just call you Ever,” I argue, earning myself a roll of those hard eyes.

When she retrieves the pickles from the backseat, I immediately take them from her, telling her, “You can carry the pie.” The pie doesn’t have a glass jar that can shatter and hurt her. Or me, because I could easily see her taking a swing at my head with it.

Several of Ever’s teammates call out to her on our walk to the gazebo, each one using that nickname.

“Why do they call you Zero?”

“Because I’ve hit the most zeroes.”

I replay the sentence in my head, concluding it’s gotta be another language because what in the fuck.

“What the hell does hitting a zero mean?”

“Hitting a zero means getting zero deductions in a performance,” she explains while setting down the pie I’m ninety-nine percent sure she won’t be eating on a table with five other untouched desserts.

“So, it’s a good thing? Hitting zeroes?”

She rearranges dishes so there’s space for more food.

“A very good thing,” someone else answers.

I wait for them to pass before telling Ever, “It doesn’t sound good.”

“Neither does banning your protectee from being touched,” Ever counters.

“I’m your protector.”

She stops to blink up at me.

“It’s my job.”

Her shoulders twitch with something, a scoff maybe, then, “Exactly,” ghosts past her lips, barely moving them.

A head of brown hair breaks the connection as the girl from earlier adds her own dish to the table.

Those fuck-me eyes locked on mine again, she asks Ever, “Who’s your friend?” She glances at my scar but only briefly.

“He’s—”

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