Page 34 of Late Nights & Love Lines
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Seren asks, staring at my injured ankle.
“I’m fine.” I smile tightly, though it probably comes across as more of a grimace. “So, these pranks you’re planning on playing. You can’t do that stuff to the nannies coming in a few days.”
She scowls at me.
“Listen, if it were a normal camp, I might turn a blind eye, as long as they were harmless pranks. And by the way, laxatives do not fall into the harmless category. But the thing is, this event is really important to my friend, so I can’t let you sabotage it.”
We walk a few steps in silence. Sebastian glances back, and I give him a thumbs up when really, the urge to flip him off is strong, and I have no idea why other than he draws such volatile reactions from me.
“I don’t really have any friends. Not anymore.” The sadness in her voice claws at all my old wounds.
“It’s hard,” I admit. “I’ve only ever had one or two real friends, not a big circle of them, so I’ve never felt as though I’m missing anything, you know? It must be so much harder to suddenly not have them anymore.”
She nods, but I can tell she’s flustered by my honesty. “Everyone started making fun of me after my mom. Their parents wouldn’t let them come to my house anymore, and then they started excluding me from everything.”
“Well, those parents sound like idiots.” I huff. “And twelve is a tough age, especially for girls. Someone is always the bad guy, the one they push away. But it also changes faster than the wind. I’ll bet when you return to school in the fall, something else will happen to make them forget all about this and your friends will be back.”
“I don’t want them back,” she snaps, but her welling eyes tells a different story. “They’re punishing me for something I didn’t do. Why would I want friends like that? And what kind of friend are they if they throw me away so easily?”
Her reasoning is solid and shockingly sound for a twelve-year-old.
“Well, you’re more mature than I was at your age, that’s for sure. But you’re right. Maybe they’re not your crew. Sometimes it takes these harsh realities to show you who you can really count on.”
My mind drifts to my hotline dad, Thane. He’s raising a sister who’s around Seren’s age and is dealing with something similar. I make a mental note to ensure his sister is in Seren’s group during Lottie’s event.
“I think you’ll find a lot of the kids are dealing with similar feelings when the other campers get here.”
“Oh yeah? Are there a lot of moms cheating on dads, then vanishing as though their kids never mattered?”
Oof. Okay, Seren is pissed off. She’s working through those stages of grief pretty quickly—I might need a refresher course to keep up with her.
“Not exactly, but trust me, you’ll be surprised by how much you have in common.”
The trail turns to sand, making it even more strenuous for my ankle, and with each step, I have to work harder to school my expression.
Eventually, Sebastian and the boys come into view. They’re up ahead, standing at a fence with a Jeep behind them.
Sebastian’s expression darkens when he locks in on the limp I can no longer hide. Walking in the sand is a fucking bitch.
He jogs toward us with a scowl. “What the hell, Rowan? You said you were fine.”
Before I can process his actions, he swoops down and lifts me in a wedding hold to his chest. I’m too shocked to push him away.
“She’s been limping for a while, Dad.”
“Hey, I thought we were on the same team,” I grumble, and she shrugs.
“Why the hell do you have to be so damn stubborn about everything?” He curses under his breath so only I can hear.
“About everything? You don’t even know me. Do you have a knight in shining armor complex? I’m perfectly capable of walking.”
He stomps toward the Jeep, pulling me more firmly to his chest, which presses those damn prickers deeper into my skin, but I refuse to flinch. When he reaches the Jeep, he sets me down in the front seat, then his hand is on my shin—his touch branding me with something scarily like desire, and I refuse to acknowledge it. Lifting my leg, he sets my foot on the dashboard, and I flinch.
“Okay, maybe fine was too mild a word,” I grumble.
“For fuck’s sake, Rowan. Are you trying to do permanent damage?”
I shoo him away. “It’s just swollen. It hardly even hurts,” I lie, then search the space for something made of wood. When I don’t find anything, I knock on the dashboard—I can never be too careful when it comes to attracting good luck. “Nothing is broken, and Iamfine. Where did you get this Jeep?”
