Page 10 of Make Me Pretty
I tug my knees as close to my chest as I can—which isn’t much, staring at him through one bleary eye, sleep still clinging on. “Yep.”
His hands clench at his sides. “Why are you here, Abel?”
I sigh, dropping my head back against the wall.This again?
My heart rate has returned to a normal rhythm, making the process of thinking a tad easier. I should be grateful he’s at least finally talking to me instead of ignoring my ministrations and stomping away in a huff, but I’m not.
“What areyoudoing in here, Peris? It’s the middle of the night.” I look down my nose to where he’s seated, tense from head to toe. “Wouldn’t want your mommy to think you want to fuck me or something, sneaking into my room in the middle of the night… That goes againstallthe rules of foster siblings.” I waggle my brows, feigning a gasp.
My words have their desired effect. Peris jerks back as if I slapped him, mouth agape before he snaps it closed almost as quickly. “Mom’s not home. It’s the only time I could talk to you without risking her overhearing. I want to know what the hell is going on.”
My strength drains from me, and I slump back against the wall, eyelids fluttering as the cold seeps into my skin. “There’s not much to say.”
“But there is something, so…”
Just tell him a version of the truth. Maybe it will help.“Was in the ER. Your mom was my nurse. Bill came, and he told me your mom offered placement for me since some shit happened at the place I was at. So, it was here or a group home, and well…” I finally glance up, meeting his gaze through the shadows. The hall light illuminates behind him, bathing the darkened room in a yellow hue.
“I’m sure even someone like you knows what group homes are like.”
I’ll give Peris credit; his expression doesn’t shift once as he listens to my rundown explanation. “Who’s Bill?” he finally asks, drawing a short laugh from me.
“That’s what you want to ask?” He shrugs, sliding his hand through his hair. “Bill is my social worker,” I answer.
“Oh.”
“I assume you know what those are.”
Easy. Talking to him is easy.
“Yeah. Mom’s fostered before. What happened to you?” he asks, tone stilted.
“Okay. Is that all?” I bite out through clenched teeth, ignoring his question like he never uttered it. My skin’s prickling with unease, each pulse of my heart twinging.
“Yeah. I guess. Just—” His fingers curl into his palms as he wars with what to say next.
“Justwhat,Peris?” I don’t bother hiding my sigh of exasperation as I meet his gaze, my large, crooked nose largely in my peripheral. “Look—I’m fucking tired. My head hurts—amongst many other things—and frankly, I’mnot in the mood.I hear you and everything you’re not really saying because you’retoo nice,huh, to threaten the new foster kid. But I don’t fucking care. So, eitherdosomething or get the hell out.”
He blinks, wide-eyed, jaw muscle fluttering. “I wasn’t?—”
I faux yawn. “Sure you weren’t. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m about to get completely naked, so unless you wanna…” I trail off, making a clicking noise. Peering through my lashes, I flip the blanket off my torso. I know my skin is mottled with bruises, but something tells me Peris might like that type of thing. A risk, sure. But as I watch his throat roll, eyes devouring my bared skin, I know my instincts didn’t lead me astray.
He shoves to his feet, exhaling something close to a pained groan as he turns his bare back on me—all muscles and tanned skin. I expect him to slam the door, but he shuts it with a surprising softness.
Once his door clicks shut on the other side of mine, I slide back over the bed, eyes trained on the ceiling, even as they burn. Sleep is now so far from the recesses of my mind, it’s not even funny.
Peris is… so different from all the rest. They’re all a blur now. A part of who I am, who I’ve had to be to survive. I’ll never be able to move on from it—I can’t—but it’s nice to be something other than all that. Someone that’s just…me.
CHAPTER 3
ABEL
Elise standswith her back to me, hands digging through her purse on the kitchen counter. When she turns around, she has money in her hand, holding it out toward me. “For whatever you need or want. Peris will drive you.”
I balk.
“Excuse me? I’ll do what now?” he calls from somewhere in the adjoined living room.
“You’ll take Abel to go shopping! Clothes, books,whateverhe needs,” she says to Peris, but her eyes never leave mine—gentle and willful.
