Page 11 of The Boy I Loved
I couldn’t even blame her for that.
“I know,” I replied. “Maybe the corrections camp screwed me up in the head a bit.”
Her lips lifted into a watery smile. “It must have been difficult. I know the welcome home party wasn’t ideal, and you must be exhausted from the drive, but if you could just try…” she trailed off, giving me a hopeful expression. “All these people came to see you today, to welcome you home. Maybe you could try being a little friendlier.”
I snorted a laugh. She wanted me to plaster on a fake smile and mingle with all these people—most of them I’d never even said aword to. By the looks of it, my entire high school was invited, and their parents.
“Especially Hazel,” she hedged.
My jaw tightened at the mere mention of her name. “Don’t speak of her,” I snapped in a low tone. The last thing I needed was the wrong person hearing it. No one needed to know just how close we were. The guys knew we were friends, but they didn’t know we werebestfriends, that we grew up together, or that we were once so inseparable, I couldn’t stand being away from her for a full twenty-four hours.
Mom seemed taken aback by the hostility in my tone, her shoulders wound tight, and she flicked her gaze around nervously. “D-did something happen between you two?”
Yes.
I took her to the treehouse, put on a movie, ate her pussy, and fucked her multiple times. Even when she complained that it hurt. Even when she said she was too sore. I explored every inch of her body and then jacked off to the distant memory for months following it, knowing in my gut, that it would never be the same once I left. My throat bobbed, a memory slamming into the forefront of my mind.
“Where are we going?” I asked, glancing at my uncle who had been enlisted to take me to the correctional camp. The camp was only a couple hours away, but we’d been driving a lot longer than that by now.
The road gave way to a narrow street, trees surrounding us on either side.
Uncle Clay glanced over at me, his lips lifting in a smirk. “You’re not going to that camp, boy.” He revved the engine, hitting the accelerator a little too harshly. “It’s pointless. They want to turn you into a little bitch. Not on my fucking watch.”
Unease trickled through me. “Where are we going? Does my mom know? It was court ordered.”
Uncle Clay scoffed. “I have my way around the law. Trust me on that. You won’t get in trouble for this. As for your mother…” he trailed off, glancing out the window. “Let’s keep this between us.”
“Nothing happened,” I lied. “I just don’t want to rope her into my life. She’s smart. She could go to a nice college, meet a nice boy, and settle down. Our paths don’t align.” Even as the words left my mouth, I couldn’t help the sharp pain slicing through my chest at the thought of them. They were true, though.
I wasn’t the same boy she fell in love with. Not anymore.
CHAPTER THREE
HAZEL
My chest felt hollowthe entire drive back to my house. Like someone had reached inside and jerked my heart from it, leaving it an ugly, gaping mess that incessantly bled. I was confused more than anything. I knew a couple years had gone by, but for him to change this drastically? It didn’t make sense. He wanted absolutelynothingto do with me—like the sight of my face alone had insulted him.
Sighing, I put my car in park and stepped out onto the pavement. My two-story house loomed before me, the same house Dom had come to on numerous occasions for family dinners. To play video games with my dad, and to steal kisses on my bed. My shoulders slumped in defeat. His disgusted snarl flashed through my mind, causing my steps to falter as I navigated my way through the yard.
The last time I saw him, he’d taken my virginity. It didn’t mean anything to him. I was just another notch on his belt.
At least…that’s what I kept trying to convince myself of. But there was no way he could have faked six years of friendship. Something was seriously wrong with him, and I needed to find out what. He wasn’t scaring me off that easily. I reached into my purse, grabbing my phone. I hadn’t bothered texting him all this time, knowing he wouldn’t have access to his phone, but he was out now. So, unless he got a new one, I still had his number.
Me
Is everything okay? You seem … different.
I waited for a few moments, hoping he’d reply. But he didn’t even read the message. My heart dropped even lower in my stomach. He didn’t want to talk to me, he didn’t want to see me, and he probably didn’t want to text me, either. Even if it was in private.
I trudged up the stairs to my room, tightening my grip around my phone and flung my door open. It hit the wall with a loud thud, making me wince slightly. My bed was made up, positioned against the nearest wall with my computer desk in the far, right-hand corner of the room. Across from me was the window, but none of these things caught my attention. It was the board hanging on the wall with a variety of pictures that had been taken over the years. Photos of me and Dom.
Closing the door behind me, I crept across the room, stopping in front of the wooden billboard. The first image to catch my eye was a picture from when we were eleven. We were at a pizza place on the outskirts of town, Dom and I sharing a booth like we were already the best of friends. My chest tightened at the memory. That was the day we truly became good friends. We were laughing, throwing pieces of sausage at one another, making fun of the other customers who walked by. In the picture, his grin was wide, his eyes light like he didn’t have a care in the world. My smile matched his. I was having the time of my life.
The next picture was when we were fifteen. We went camping with our families. I was dressed in a one-piece bathing suit, Dom’s arm wound around my waist. He was shirtless, wearing a pair of swim shorts. His features had started growing more prominentaround this age, his eyes still bright, but his grin had turned into a cocky smirk—one that aired his confidence. This was before his father’s passing.
Heat prickled along my waterline, warning me of the storm brewing within my body. I didn’t have time to dwell on it, though. My phone vibrated within my pocket, capturing my attention. It was probably my mom, telling me that her and Dad were taking a detour. Pulling it out of my pocket, my heart stuttered within my chest, making my lungs seize up.
Dom
