Page 158 of The Home Grown
Ah, crap.
“What—oh, fuck, are you okay?” he says. “Did I?—”
He stops. Freezing on the spot for a second before he pulls out, then his hand gently smooths my hair—next to the patch of scalp that Megan did her best to cover by adjusting my parting.
I did not want to tell Mike about this … I mean, I’ve told him everything else, but this? I wanted this to be something I never had to speak about ever again.
His voice shakes. “What the—what the fuck is this, Kitch? What’s going on?”
“It’s nothing,” I say, getting to my feet. I hurry to dress myself, painfully aware that I’m half naked now since the post-sex fog has cleared.
“Like hell it is … it looks like someone—” His face slackens. A horrible realisation settling behind his eyes. “Kitch … did Kathryn do this to you?”
“Mike, please?—”
“Is this about the money?” He crouches down to tug his own clothes back into place. “Because I’ll?—”
“Mike. Please.” I lay a hand on his chest, trying to find his eyes. “Please.”
But I see it. The fiery look, the way his jaw tightens.
“This is enough,” he says. “I know she’s your sister but?—”
“I’mnot going to see her again,” I say. “She humiliated me in front of a salon full of clients … but I was angry and I did something stupid?—”
“What did you do?” he asks. “Is this about the night…”
My cheeks flush with shame as I inhale.
I nod. “I loosened a few lids on some nail polishes.” I cringe. “I know it’s petty, but?—”
“That’s what you did?” He says through clenched teeth. “That’s what you did, and she ripped your hair out in return?” He shakes his head. “Nah … this isn’t on. This isn’t?—”
“Mike, we’re just going to forget about it,” I say.
“This is one step too far.”
“What are you going to do? You can’t go there and pull her hair in return.”
“No, but I can pay Greg a visit.”
“Mike,” I say, stepping towards him, closing the space between us and putting my hands on his face, forcing him to look at me. “It’s over now. That’s it. I’m not entertaining the idea of seeing her ever again. Please, can we leave it?”
“Kitch, I?—”
“Please? For me?” I whisper, digging deep—mustering everything I have to plead with him, my eyes locked on his as I force my desperation to the surface.
And after several minutes, he finally nods. Sharp. Reluctant. But it’s enough.
BETTSY
The best thingabout allocated tickets is knowing exactly where to look to see who’s using your seats. Even though I can’t say I’ve never had a girl in the stands before, this time, it feelsdifferent.And I sort of get where Liam Preston was coming from when he told me he sort of shows off a bit in front of Vicky; like he can’t help himself…
I definitely want to show off.
As we skate out for warm-ups, I do an extra lap of our defensive end so I can check she’s here and when I spot her, sitting next to my sister, wearing theBettsjacket, my pulse picks up a little speed.
“She’s here then?” Danny asks, falling in to skate next to me.
