Page 10 of Psycho

“Good,” I answered slowly.

“You’re not lying to me, are you, girl?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Look, I appreciate you driving me home, but it’s none of your business how things are for me at home.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, and I could feel my heart beating harshly inside my chest. I almost wanted to take the words back because Brody had been the only one who’d been nice to me for a long time. But I wasn’t wrong, either. It was none of his business.

Then he said, “I thought we were friends.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I barely knew the man. How could we be friends when I barely knew him, and he barely knew me?

He let out a small sigh that sounded loud in the space of his humongous truck.

I resisted the urge to flinch back.

“I would like to be your friend,” he said.

“Really? You want to be my friend?” I couldn’t help the tinge of suspicion that seeped out of my voice. No one ever wanted to be just friends.

There was always something they wanted from me.

No one wanted to be my friend for the sake of being my friend.

“Yes,” he answered, and he must’ve been a really good actor, because I couldn’t hear any sarcasm or fakeness in his voice.

Or perhaps my bullshit meter was off.

“You don’t want to be my friend,” I said, grabbing the door handle. “I’m more trouble than I’m worth. Thanks for the ride.”

I opened the door and climbed out before he could say anything.

I moved to the small, crappy two-bedroom trailer.

Brody stayed where he was until I got inside and locked the door.

I looked out the window at him, and though I didn’t trust him, for the small moment while his truck idled in front, I felt safe.

Feeling safe wasn’t something I felt often.

I closed my eyes when he finally pulled away.

I wasn’t sure how long I had stood there before I forced myself to move to the bathroom and get ready for bed.

It was three o’clock in the morning.

I had school tomorrow.

And though I was tired, I wasn’t sure how I would be able to fall asleep tonight.

Great.

* * *

I let outa yawn as I waited for my coffee to brew.

Dad never came home last night, which was a blessing I wasn’t going to question. I didn’t know where Dad usually spent his nights, and I didn’t really care to know. Still, a small part of me was curious, considering he had been spending a lot of his time away from home, and something told me it wasn’t the shit he usually got into.

Perhaps I should be warier about that. After all, there couldn’t be anything good that came out of Ozzy Reyes' scheming.

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