Page 20 of Scout
Because at the end of the day…
Who the hell could really love someone like me?
I wakeup with a headache and the taste of last night still clinging to my lips.
Kendrix. Xavier. Both of them. All of it.
My throat’s dry, my jaw sore, and the bruises blooming on my neck are very much real. It wasn’t a dream. It wasn’t a fantasy. I don’t know what the hell it was.
But I can’t think about it right now.
Because today isn’t about me. Today’s about Juniper.
I promised her lunch and another shopping day. She made the middle school cheer team this week, which apparently is ahuge deal.She called me three times to remind me and texted a list of essentials at six o’clock this morning.
She meets me outside the house with a hop in her step and a pink glitter bow in her hair. I roll down the window and she practically throws herself into the car.
"You ready to drop some serious money on your favorite girl?" She grins, already scrolling through her phone like she has a shopping agenda.
"Define serious," I tease, pulling back out on the road.
"I need at least three Nike Pro shorts. And real sports bras. Not the kiddie ones from Target. That’sso sixth grade.I’ll get bullied. Do you want me to get bullied, Scout?"
I shake my head, fighting a smile. "God forbid. We’re going full elite cheer girl today."
But underneath the teasing, I mean it. I mean all of it.
Because there is no fucking way Juniper is going to be the weird girl. The one wearing clothes two sizes too big or hand-me-downs that never quite fit. She won’t be me.
She’ll have what she needs. What shewants.She’ll walk into practice and hold her head up like she belongs there.
I’ll make damn sure of it.
Because I remember. I remember what it felt like to walk into a new school in pants that were too short and shoes that pinched, trying not to draw attention. I remember pretending to be okay when I wasn’t.
My mom did her best. I know that wholeheartedly.
But she was a single mom who kept falling for the same lie over and over again.
My dad would say he loved her. That he’d be back. That child support would ruin our chance to be a real family. And she believed it. Every damn time. We struggled. We moved more times than I can count. Sometimes it was a decent place. Sometimes the roof leaked and the heat never worked and there were roaches in the cabinets.
And my dad never came back for good. He came back just long enough to wreck things again. To lie. To fuck. To leave. Then he met Juniper’s mom. Got her pregnant. Stuck around just long enough to call it a second chance.
Then he died.
And I still don’t know why I wasn’t enough to stay for.
I used to think maybe if I were better—quieter, easier, smarter—he would’ve chosen me. Chosenus.But I know now some people just don’t have it in them to stay.
My mom left too. Last year. Her new fiancé promised her sunny days and cheap rent in Florida. She didn’t even look back. Said it would be good for them at their age.
And that was it.
Everyone leaves.
That’s what I’ve learned. If I’m not something to use for a night out on the town or to show your family that the boyfriend you’ve told them about isreal, I’m something to walk away from.
So I stopped getting attached.
