Page 3 of Something Good
He looked different.
Of course he looked different. It had been seven years. His blond hair was a little longer, worn shaggy, hanging over his eyes a bit. His jaw was more angular than I remembered. He’d always been a scrawny kid, but a bit of baby fat in his face had still softened his jawline. Now, it was all angles and edges. I wanted to lick it. Nip at it. Tuck my nose under it and inhale his scent.
Fuck.Thoughts like that were liable to get my ass beat.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” His voice was tinged with derision. For the second time in as many minutes, I was taken aback.
“We moved back. My stepdad is the new principal at the high school.”
“Fucking awesome. Can this day get any better?” Sammy stubbed out the joint I only just now realized he was smoking and scrambled down the backside of the boulder, coming aroundto stand in front of me on the path. He stared me down hard for a long moment, eyes locked on mine in a stalemate, a sneer on his lips.
“Mr. Johnson? He was new at the beginning of the year. Where were you?”
“Mom and I stayed back in Grand Island to finish my senior year. We just got here yesterday.”
I wasn’t sure why he was so angry. I’d figured we’d run into each other at some point. Astaire wasn’t a very big town, so it was kind of amazing our paths hadn’t crossed one of the times Mom and I had visited on weekends during the year. But in all the ways I’d imagined our eventual meeting might take place, I hadn’t anticipated this kind of animosity.
I was at a loss for words. Completely tongue-tied. Sammy rolled his eyes and shoved past me, but I reached out and grabbed his hand before he could get away. I didn’t know why I’d done it. I only knew I didn’t want him to go. Not yet.
He turned, looked pointedly at our hands, then up at me again. “You wanna let go of me?”
I ignored his question, instead asking one of my own. “Why are you so angry?”
He snorted. “What? You thought this would be some kind of happy homecoming? We’d hug it out and be besties for the resties?”
“No. I don’t know. I didn’t know what to expect. But I didn’t think you’d be so…pissed.”
He yanked his hand away, rubbing his palm against his skinny jeans like he’d come in contact with a disease. “I’m not pissed. To be pissed, I’d have to actually give a shit. And I don’t. You’ve been dead to me for a long time.”
My stomach rolled and my heart clenched. “Why?”
“Why, what?”
He was being deliberately obtuse. How could he not know what I meant? Frustrated, I ran my hands through my hair. “Why am I dead to you?”
He looked at me for a long moment, those chocolate-brown eyes piercing, as if he’d assessed me and found me lacking. “You know what,” he said at long last. “It doesn’t fucking matter. Just stay away from me.”
This time, I let him walk away.
“Will? Is that you?”Mom called out as I tried to make my way up the stairs unnoticed. With a sigh, I turned and headed back down, then around the corner into the living room, where she sat watching some cooking show on TV.
“Yeah?” I asked.
Her eyebrows shot up. “Don’t ‘yeah’ me. Where were you? You didn’t come home for dinner.”
“I texted you.”
“Which is the only reason you aren’t grounded. But you didn’t tell me where you were or why you wouldn’t be home in time to eat with us.” She sat with her arms crossed, brows raised, with adon’t sass meexpression.
“I just…” I plopped down on the opposite end of the couch with a sigh. I knew I was being dramatic, but I couldn’t help it. “I needed some air.”
Her gaze softened. “What happened, honey? Did you have any luck finding a job?”
“Not really. I filled out a bunch of applications, but it seems like most places have already hired local kids for summer.”
“I’m sure something will come up.”
I shrugged, unsure what else to say.
