“What do you want?” I yell, my patience stretched thin, my nerves on edge.

She stiffens, looking petulant. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”

I exhale as the past tugs at me a little. “I’m glad you’re okay. I haven’t heard from you since you left. I thought…I thought you might be dead.”

She laughs. “I’m not.”

I blow out a breath. “Mama, what do you want?”

Her lips turn down. “Money.”

Now, the reality behind her note and visit are crystal clear, and I swallow down the hurt it causes me even though I expected it. “I see.”

“But if I can’t get any, maybe I’ll call one of those family lawyers, see what it might take to get Tyler back—unless you can help me? What do you say? I bet you have some money saved from waiting tables, or maybe your boyfriend has some cash? Just a little would do me a lot of good, baby girl.”

My eyes flare. She’s probably still using. I don’t smell any alcohol on her, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t high, and it’s dark out here…ugh.

I don’t believe she’ll call anyone. She doesn’t want Tyler; she just wants the money, and she’ll only wear me down, lingering around the diner and school, and geeze, she’s my mom, she’s my mom, and I haven’t laid eyes on her in so long…

She was a terrible mother, so bad, but she’s still the person who brought me into this world, and I can feel that tiny, fragile bond right now, twisting in my heart. I feel like a little kid all over again, wondering if she’s okay, if she’ll hug me, if she’ll be home when I get back from school.

My shoulders slump. “I’ll give you everything I have.”

She smiles broadly.

“But I never want to see you again.”

A long sigh comes from her. “Ah, Ava, you’re mean. Guess you get it honest.”

Yeah.

She sends a thumbs-up to the man in the parking lot and I cringe. “We just need to get to Memphis, you know, and we ran out of money a while back, and it will give us a good start. We all need fresh starts, don’t we? Thank you, baby girl.”

“Yeah.” Feeling queasy, I tell her to stay put and dash inside the dorm and up to my room. I lift up my mattress and count out my three thousand dollars. The money doesn’t really matter right now. I can always work more.

“You are not going back out there without me,” Wyatt states when I come back to the lobby.

“Okay.” I exhale.

With Wyatt next to me—thank you God for sending me a friend like him—I walk back outside and press it into her hands.

“I’ll call the cops the next time,” I say, running my eyes back over the man who’s still watching us. “He looks like he might have warrants out. Wouldn’t want him to go to jail, or you to go for harassment.”

Her mouth quirks up. “Just like me, you’re hard and ready to fight.” She laughs harshly. “Don’t blame you a bit.”

“What the fuck just happened?” Wyatt says as we watch their taillights leave a few minutes later.

My chest hitches, feeling lost, like I want to chase her car down, even with that scary man inside, and beg her to stay and just be a mom and be like Knox’s dad, but, no, no—those thoughts are foolish and she chose her path a long time ago.

I swallow down the past. “I was blackmailed by my mom.”

“Dude. You have some weird shit going on.”

“Oh, Wyatt. You have no idea.”

He cocks his head and mulls something over. “Did you know you were mumbling the whole way back from the stadium?”

“What was I saying?”

We approach the doors.

“‘I’m too young. He’s too young.’ I think you meant you and Knox, of course.” He rolls his eyes. “But I want you to know—that look on your face when your mom left… You aren’t young, Ava. You’re ancient. And Knox? He’s there too.”

I don’t know what to say about that.

He tosses an arm around me as we walk back into the lobby. “So, it’s Friday night and it’s just you and me. What do you want to do?”

I shake my head. “I’m just…lost.”

He exhales, holding me tighter. “Let’s get in my car and just drive. How does that sound? We’ll roll the windows down, let the night air in, and blare some rap music. You can tell me what a hot dude I am and that Jagger is going to fall in love with me.”

I can’t help the grin on my face, and I reach up and kiss his cheek. “I love you. Marry me?”

“Same. I insist we register at Pottery Barn. Sheets and towels and candles. Would you mind if Jagger marries me too? Three-way?”

I laugh. “No, you’d never pay any attention to me. Come on, let’s go for that drive.”

22

I wake up with a scream, my body shaking as I wrestle myself out of a nightmare about ghostly trees and coyotes circling me as I lie in the woods. Gulping in air, I try to orient myself in the darkened room and control my rapid breathing. The attack from last week sneaks in.

That’s where you belong, bitch, at my feet—and don’t you forget it.

I close my eyes, my hands clenching the quilt.

Something so familiar about… But it’s gone.

Forget the dream. Get some sleep.

With a glance at my phone, I see it’s seven in the morning, way too soon to get up considering Wyatt and I didn’t get home until midnight. I toss over and beat at my pillow, trying to get comfortable, but an hour later, it’s pointless, my head is still replaying last night.

Why is Knox pushing me away little by little?

Why did his dad offer to send me to New York and take care of Tyler? He’s never even met me before, yet he’d be willing to fork over thousands of dollars just to get me out of Camden? It doesn’t make sense. Obviously, he wants Knox to focus on football and his brother and not me, but—

I pause.

Why does Dane dislike being around me? I can accept that part of it is because of what happened to his mom, but something doesn’t feel right, and a sense of foreboding creeps over me, heavy and thick, crawling down my spine.

I get out of bed, take a quick shower, and throw on some shorts and a Cranberries shirt. After making my bed and going over some homework, I’m still antsy and frustrated. At ten, I call Wyatt, and we make a plan to meet at a coffee shop in town.

We’ve just settled in at a table next to the window when a black Mercedes SUV drives past the shop and parks across the street. Taking a sip of my coffee, I watch as Knox, Dane, and his dad exit the vehicle and walk toward the police station.

“What are they doing?” Wyatt murmurs, following my gaze. “Trouble with the Graysons on a Saturday?”

“No clue,” I reply, frowning.

The three of them stop at the entrance where three other well-dressed men are waiting. One of them is clearly Chance’s dad, a slick-looking older man with sandy hair and a trim frame. Although I’ve never met him, I used to follow Chance’s social posts when we were together, plus I’ve seen him at school a few times to drop off or pick up his son. He’s a lawyer. A lawyer.