Page 12 of Beautiful Scars

I don’t move. And neither does he. Not until he hands his cup off to the guy standing next to him without even looking. His eyes are still locked on mine when he starts across the yard.

He disappears briefly behind the fence before popping up over the top of it. My heart beats frantically while I try to ignore it.

I don’twanthim to come over. I don’t want to talk to him. This isn’t part of my plan. I should be inside, tucked into bed, asleep. I shouldn't behere.

Before I know it, Levi is standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at me.

“Are you spying on me?” His voice is low, but teasing.

I try to shrug, but it comes off as a jerky, weird twitch instead. “I couldn’t sleep.” It's not a lie, but it's not the entire truth either, which seems to be all I'm capable of with him.

He doesn’t respond right away. He just stands there, watching me with this intense gaze that feels like he can see right through me. After a second, he starts up the stairs. When he gets to the top, his eyes move over me, stopping at my bare legs. Even though the bruises have faded into pale sickly yellow dots, I'm glad it's too dark to see much. I don't even bother spending any time regretting choosing shorts over pants.

Levi tilts his head slightly as he speaks. “You know, you could’ve just come over.”

I snort. “Yeah, that would've gone oversowell. Besides, it's not really my thing.”

His eyes and his voice soften as he lowers himself down to sit on the stair below mine. "It's not really my thing either."

"Yeah, I could tell. You looked pretty miserable. I mean surrounded by gorgeous cheerleaders falling all over themselves for you. Yuck. Who'd want that." I laugh and crinkle my nose.

He laughs, and it's a really great sound. A really great one.

"Well, I'm here with you and not over there with them, so..."

My snarky comment dies in my throat and I'm not sure what to say. A comfortable silence settles between us. We sit on the stairs, together, watching as the party gets louder and more obnoxious, until my eyes get heavy, and I can't help the yawn that escapes.

Levi stands and stretches. "I suppose I should get back. Even though they seem to be doing fine without me."

"Yeah. Mom's going to be home soon and I try to avoid her knowing I'm awake. I need to get to bed."

Levi offers his hand to me, and I stare at it for a full minute before taking it and letting him help me to my feet. "Thank you." I say the words as I turn to head inside. "Goodnight Levi."

“Goodnight Angel." He smiles and turns to leave. Almost as an afterthought, he adds, "You could've come tonight. There's no way I'd have let anyone mess with you. You know that, right?”

I don't answer him, but damn it, Idoknow that. I hate that I know it, but I do.

Chapter Seven

Sunny

Lastnight,afterLeviwalked away, I told myself I wouldn’t think about him anymore. I’d let his words settle into the back of my mind and stay there, untouched. I have more important things to deal with.

There are seven places Mom hides money in the house. Eight if you count the tampon box under the bathroom sink, but Garrett found that one last month. I check them methodically—the loose floorboard in the hall closet, the hollow curtain rod in the spare room, behind the baseboard in Mom's closet. Most are empty. No surprise there.

Mom's still passed out at the bottom of the stairs where she landed last night. I'd covered her with the old afghan from the couch, but she hasn't moved since. The house is quiet except for her soft snoring and the hum of the ancient refrigerator that holds nothing but ketchup and beer. My stomach cramps, a sharp reminder that I haven't eaten since yesterday morning.

I find twenty-three dollars stuffed inside an old boot in the hall closet. Another twelve folded into the pages of her high school yearbook. The real prize is wedged behind the loose brick in the fireplace—two crumpled fifties that must have been forgotten about.

"I'll pay it back," I whisper into Mom's ear as I stuff the money into my pocket. We both know I won't, and that she's too gone to hear me say it, but the lie makes me feel better. Besides, she'd give it to me if she were awake. Maybe.

I check my phone—ten 'o' clock. It's the perfect time to hit the store. All the moms who go shopping after dropping their kids off at daycare or summer camp are finished, and the lunch rush isn't for another hour.

The Food Xpress on Marshall Street is having a sale on chicken. If I hurry, I can get there and back before Mom wakes up. Before she remembers why she was crying last night. Before she starts detoxing and looking for the money she needs to keep herself even.

I grab my backpack, the one with the broken zipper that I've sewn shut three times now. A hundred and thirty-five dollars. It's more than I expected to find. Enough for real food, not just ramen and mac and cheese. Enough to hide some away for next time.

"I'll be back soon," I call over my shoulder as I walk out the door, knowing she wouldn't care even if she were awake.

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