Page 65 of Paper Hearts

My heart races and I think Ender is going to hit him, but he doesn’t. He stares at him, blinking, as if he too can’t believe he said that.

“Theo!” Lana screams at him, her voice breaking with the force. “Leave him alone!”

Without another word, Ender shoves Theo back, hard, and then takes off, walking the other way toward the lake.

Theo looks over at me. “If you knew what was good for you, you’d leave him alone.”

I don’t listen to him. I never will, because Theo just ruined every good thought I had about him. “Hey, wait up!” I call out, following Ender.

Ender comes to a stop but doesn’t turn around. When I catch up with him and touch his shoulder, he shakes me off and spins around to face me. His face is red, flushed from the interaction with his dad. “He’s right, you should stay away from me.”

“I don’t want to.”

He nods, but his anger doesn’t fade. “What the fuck does he know anyway?” he spits, pacing in front of me. “He can’t say it, can he? Couldn’t he for once in my fucking life say, ‘good job, son.’?”

My heart aches for him. He tries hard for Theo, but nothing is ever good enough for him. “Ender…”

“I played good the other night in that championship game,” he yells. “No, fuck that, I played awesome out there. I won that fucking game for our team by getting the winning run out at home, but no, he can’t even say that. He congratulates Walker because he’s working for him. But he can’t with me because I refuse to live his fucking dream.”

“Maybe he just—” The words die in my throat when Ender silences me with a glare in disbelief I would defend his father.

“Don’t you start making excuses for him. Don’t!” His voice is loud and threatening.

I take a step back because his intensity scares me. “I’m not defending him. I—”

“Yes you are. Everyone does. I’m always wrong and he’s right. That’s what you were going to say.” Before I can say anything else, he leans in closer, his face inches from mine. “Do you wanna know the last time he said he loved me?” He doesn’t wait for my response. “I was seven years old and went to work with him for Bring Your Kid to Work Day. He only said it because I went to work with him. That night, when I told him I didn’t want to run the family business and that I wanted to play ball, he stopped saying it.”

“Ender…” I reach out for his arm, but he flings it away.

“Save your fucking sympathy,” he spits, moving away from me.

“Ender—”

“Why do you do this to me?” he yells, facing me again, holding out his hands wide.

My heart lurches in my chest. “Do what?”

“You’re fucking sixteen. I shouldn’t give a damn but look what you do to me!”

“Ender—”

Again, he cuts me off. “You’re a kid. I have no business hanging around with you.” He shoves his hands in the front of his hoodie and tries to walk away.

A kid? That’s what he thinks after all this time? I grab a hold of his arm, firmer this time. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Why are you treating me like shit over your dad being a dick?”

Ender turns on his heel and faces me, anger lighting his face again. His confidence wavers. “You think you know, don’t you? You think you’re so fucking smart, yes?”

“Ender.” I sigh, staring at his eye that’s swelling shut. “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t what?”

“Be this way.”

He whips his forearm across his mouth that’s bleeding again. “What way?”

“Like you’re trying to be an asshole to avoid getting hurt.”

“Oh, Hads.” He’s mocking me. I know that. “It’s not a way. It’s me. I’m an asshole. Took you long enough to figure it out.”

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