Sister Margaret rolls her eyes.

“You can’t say those things here.”

“You say them,” he replies.

Sister Margaret gives me side-eye.

I hold my hands out. What does she expect? I was shuffled between tents under the bridge, a foster home, shelters, and inner-city apartments.

Tyler looks up at me. “I-I could have said fucking balls, so it’s not a bad word. Boys have balls. And a dick—”

I hold my hand up. “Nope. Can’t say that word either. School is a lot like Mass, okay? We have to be respectful.”

The nun shakes her head, but I swear I see her lips twitch.

I ruffle his hair. “Did you know they have a killer art department here? Check out that mural. It was done by students.”

He looks to where I’m pointing, an awed expression growing on his face. He adores drawing.

Dr. Rivers has reached us, wearing a smile, and I squeeze his thin shoulders. Tall and attractive, she’s dressed in a cream suit, her hair up in a sleek chignon. She’s here to greet us, which is noteworthy. I’ve never even been able to even talk on the phone with any of the administrators at Tyler’s old school.

My heart clutches, and hope—that thing that’s been so delicate and tenuous with me for months—grows a little stronger as I watch her bend down and greet him then offer to show him to his class.

She stands back up. “Tyler’s going to have a fantastic day, I assure you, and I have your number in case we need you.” She looks at Sister Margaret and nods. “We have the group home’s number as well. Everything’s all set.” She pauses. “Also, congratulations on getting him enrolled. Headmaster Trask pulled quite a few strings to get everything arranged.”

Good.

She smiles. “He’s going to fall in love with his teachers.”

That well of emotion pulls at me again, making my throat tighten. I look around at the artwork, the plush furniture I can see inside the classrooms, the excited faces of teachers as they greet each student. I can’t be his real mom, but I can do this. I can give him a good start. “Thank you.”

She nods and begins to walk with Tyler down the hall.

He sends me a final wave then gets distracted by a little girl who runs up to him, takes his other hand, and leads him off along with Dr. Rivers.

I did the right thing by coming back to Camden. I did. He’s going to be okay.

10

“Holy cow. That’s quite a shiner you’ve got there, Cold and Evil,” are the first words out of my mouth when I take my seat next to Knox in class. I barely made it here after dropping Tyler off, but the high school starts half an hour later than the elementary campus, so I had enough time. Even sat in my car for five minutes, waiting until the last second to get out. Still, I’m not late, and Mrs. White isn’t even standing at the podium yet.

My seat is a mere few inches from his, and I’m aware of the heat from his leg next to mine.

Knox eases away from me, putting more distance there, giving me a half-shrug as he keeps his gaze on his laptop. He’s erecting a force field. A big one.

It makes me want to tear it down, zap it with a ray-gun, peel back the layers, and see what’s underneath.

“If you don’t want to talk, all you have to say is Be quiet, Ava in that deep voice of yours.”

Dang, why did I have to say deep—like I’ve noticed what his voice sounds like.

He taps his fingers on the top of his thigh.

I’ve never seen someone so self-contained. Along with that force field, he’s got a few armored tanks set up on the perimeter when it comes to me. Locked down with cannons itching to fire.

Do not engage with Ava, they seem to declare.

It’s always been that way with him when it comes to me.

Except for that one time…

“Come on, Ava, let’s go upstairs to my room.” Chance breathes in my ear. His hands are on my ass, palming me as we dance.

Loud music blares from speakers set up around his den. His parents are out of town for Labor Day. It’s not a Shark party, like their postgame keggers with only football players and whoever they invite, but more of an all the popular kids from Camden shindig. A few people from Hampton High. Some townies.

“Be mine for real, baby.” His voice slurs.

“You’re drunk.”

“So? Everyone is.”

“I’m not.” Nerves hit me. Maybe I should be—to fit in. Only, I don’t like alcohol and what it does to a person.

People move around us, dancing slow, lost in the deep thump of the vibrating bass. A couple make out on the couch. Liam has Jolena pressed against the wall in an alcove in the foyer, her hands pinned above her head as he kisses her. She hooks a leg around him and tugs him closer. His hands lift her skirt up from behind and I tear my eyes off them.

Chance kisses me as his hands slip under my peasant blouse and brush against my stomach. “Babe, you feel so good. I promise I’ll go easy.”

I glance around.

Nobody is looking at us.

Except for him.

Knox.

He isn’t dancing, but unbidden, my eyes keep going back to him, keeping tabs as he sits on a loveseat in a dark corner, his position separate from the rest of the crowd. His figure is shadowy, but the broad shoulders and muscled arms splayed out along the top of the seat give him away. I know he’s there; I feel the menace emanating from him, like a king watching his subjects. There’s a pretty girl standing behind him, someone random. I don’t know her. She has her hands in his hair, scraping her nails over his scalp then drifting down and massaging his neck and shoulders, the movement of her languid ministrations sensual and slow, sliding from his silky hair to his chest. Another girl sits at his feet and rubs his thighs, her hands caressing. Don’t know her either.

With a sly look up at him, she moves to the crotch of his jeans.

My heart races, and it has nothing to do with Chance’s fingers caressing my skin. I barely notice.

His voice groans. “Don’t you want me, Ava?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer, picking me up and sitting with me on the couch, maneuvering me so I straddle him.

I still see Knox.

He won’t take his eyes off me.

I watch with fascination as Knox bites his lower lip, digging in deep, so hard I expect to see blood bloom there.

I return his glance, letting him see that no, I haven’t forgotten seeing him nearly naked in that locker room, and yes, somehow he’s crawled inside me, sitting behind me in class, those long looks he gives me at lunch when I sit next to Chance.

The girl asks him something and I wish I could hear what she says, but I figure it out when she unzips his jeans and her head lowers.

My stomach drops.

“What are you doing?” Chance asks when I jump up off the couch. My chest rises and I put my hand on my flushed cheeks. I lift my eyes to Knox, and he’s a statue, body tense, watching me.

“Bathroom,” I mumble, slipping away from his hands when he reaches out to grab me.

“Babe—”

“Give me a few minutes,” I say firmly then slide farther away from him, jostling between people dancing.

I march past Knox with my hands clenched, my face turned from him so I can’t see his expression, so he doesn’t know he’s in my head instead of Chance.