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  “Just curious, you know. I thought we were friends.”

  “We were never friends, Millie. Lovers, soul mates, kindred spirits, sometimes fuck buddies” – the corner of his mouth lifted for a split second, then disappeared – “but not friends.”

  “You’re wrong.” I frowned, trying to ignore his foul-mouthed definition, which gave my heart palpitations. “We have to be friends because, well, Parker is our godson.”

  Parker was Dave’s nephew; and April, Dave’s sister, was my best friend. As Parker’s godparents, we were sort of tied together as a family for the rest of our lives. Sometimes I wondered whether April had asked us both for the honor to keep us together.

  “That’s not a good enough reason. For someone who believes in the universe and Fate, I’m surprised it’s that easy for you to dismiss the connection we’ll always have.”

  “Your fly is open.”

  He zipped up and took a sip of his coffee. Dave was right, as always. He had these values and virtues that totally didn’t make sense in this beat up world. He always told the truth and did the right thing — even when it would be better to ignore it. He stuck to his promises no matter what the repercussions were, and was too good at everything — especially his job. And that was the root of my problems.

  “Friends help each other, and you were there for me last night.”

  “I was there for you because I didn’t want you to get killed in the middle of nowhere. I would have done it for anyone.”

  “Liar. If I were someone else, you would have given them a ticket, and if their gas ran out, you would have taken them to the station or called a cab, not taken them to your house.”

  “Fine, have it your way,” he said, completely disheartened.

  What the heck was wrong with him?

  “So we’re friends?”

  “Sure.” And then he got that wicked look in his eyes. Oh, no! He was about to come up with something good — something I couldn’t argue my way out of. He leaned forward, and with a sly smile on his face, said, “But as your friend, I’m telling you that a friend shouldn’t want to bang his friend all the time. A friend shouldn’t be thinking about her when he’s with another woman in ways that will get him hard. So if that makes me an asshole friend, then so be it.”

  Okay, so that went well. Not!

  “Well, if you’re not a friend to me, then what are you?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know. I’m not sure how to live without you, but I’m trying. I really am.”

  I sighed. Whatever. Our ‘friend’ relationship was complicated enough, and this morning I had no strength to argue with him.

  “So, you got me a day off?”

  Working as a secretary for his father and sister had its perks, and this was certainly one of them.

  “I thought you could use it. Who were you running from?”

  “What?”

  “Come on, Millie. You’re forgetting that I know you better than anyone. What did you do? Slash a biker’s tires? Moon a group of seniors to brighten up their day? What was it this time?”

  Was that how low his opinion of me had sunk? Seriously? After all these years?

  “Whatever, Dave. I don’t owe you an explanation. You didn’t know shit eight months ago, and you don’t know shit now, so you can take your pretty ass—”

  In two long strides, he was at my side.

  “Then tell me all about the shit I don’t know. I’ve been wanting to get into that head of yours for years, and you won’t let me. What the fuck did I do, Millie? Tell me, so that I don’t fuck up again.”

  My eyes welled up. He was upset and had every right to be. It didn’t help that I was pretty sure I was too weak to hold it all in for much longer.

  “Who were you running from yesterday?” He regarded me from above, lifting my chin with his finger to meet his gaze. I saw that spark of understanding click in his eyes, and I knew that he knew. “It was him, wasn’t it? He wasn’t supposed to get out until next year.”

  I simply lowered my head to the counter, set it atop my arms, and let the tears fall on their own.

  Chapter 2

  Dave

  Twelve years earlier

  She was nothing I expected and everything I wanted.

  The new girl at our school didn’t fit in. Her torn-up jeans appeared to be in style; that is, until I got closer and noticed that they hadn’t been bought that way, but were simply worn out. The faded checkered shirt was stained on the lower corner, and a torn hem was inconspicuously disguised by being tied into a knot. I leaned against my locker a few feet away from hers and watched her fiddle with the combination. She finally gave up, kicked the metal door, and the lock dropped to the floor. An echo carried down the hall and a few heads turned, appraising the new addition to our school. I felt my eyebrow lift in appreciation of her raw attitude. It wasn’t often that you saw a girl’s mouth curve up because she’d caused a dent with her scrubby Doc Martens. I strolled toward her and extended my hand.

  “I’m Dave. You’re new here, aren’t you?”

  “Hi, Dave.” She gave me a somewhat pasted smile that made me doubt whether coming over was a good idea. “I’m I don’t give a fuck.”

  If looks could kill, I’d be a dead man. Yup, approaching her was definitely a mistake. Ms. I don’t give a fuck turned on her heel, marked the linoleum floor with a black streak, and left. The bell rang and I just stood there, even more curious about who she was, where she came from, and how I could get her real name.

  I didn’t see her again until the last period, which for me was open, and I could technically go home or study at the library. She was sitting on a patch of grass with her back against the fence on the outer edge of school property when her name got called by one of the girls nearby.

  “Hey, Carlton!”

  Her head flew up and a girl motioned her over. She stood up, hesitating, looking around as if trying to find a hidden camera. She had every right to be wary. I didn’t like the look on Laurie’s face, either. One of the more popular girls at school, the rumor of her as an easy lay had floated around for months, and thus she never lacked attention from the guys. With her nose permanently stuck up high, her reputation of a bitch with a vengeance was well known, and it appeared that Carlton was Laurie’s new target.

  What kind of a name is Carlton?

  That scheming look in Laurie’s eyes was hidden underneath overgrown bangs as her gaze flew from the new girl to the teacher standing by the door.

  What the hell are you up to?

  They exchanged a few words, after which Laurie handed her something and walked away. Carlton watched Laurie trot toward the building, but she didn’t see her turn a corner toward one of the teachers on duty. With a worried pouty face, she explained something, waving her arms around, and then pointed in Carlton’s direction.

  As Carlton sat by that fence, scribbling in a notebook, the teacher came up and asked to see what she had in her water bottle. After one sniff, the two of them headed for the school.

  Shit! She got played.

  Instead of hopping on the next bus home, I went back inside and strode toward the principal’s office.

  “I told you, it’s not mine,” I heard through the half-closed door to the main office.

  Carlton was sitting on one of the five chairs, her arms crossed over her chest and legs stretched out in an I don’t care position.

  “Laurie is an honor roll student. Why would she give you alcohol?”

  “Do I look like a mind reader?”

  “Millie, we asked her, and she said it’s not hers.”

  Millie. Millie Carlton. That made much more sense.

  “Of course she would. You wouldn’t expect anything less from an honor roll student, would you?” She rolled her eyes.

  I went inside and stood by the stack of school newsletters pretending to browse through college pamphlets, keeping my focus on the conversation behind me.

  “We’ll have to call your parents.”

&nbs
p; “Well, good luck,” she chuckled.

  Mr. Brown typed something into the computer. When he’d found what he was looking for, his gaze skidded to Millie and then back to the screen.

  “You’re at the Savage house?”

  “Yeah,” she replied.

  That was the moment I knew that Laurie was the least of this girl’s troubles. The Savage family was known for scamming the foster care system to get money for their ‘caring’ of children. If their definition of caring was not giving a fuck about them, then they did a pretty good job. I knew the second oldest of the brothers, Caleb. He was a senior as well. The oldest had graduated two years earlier, though I’d heard rumors the school had given Mark the diploma just to get rid of him. Having been in class with Caleb, that wouldn’t have surprised me.

  I frowned. How did they manage to get approved as foster parents?

  Mr. Brown cleared his throat and picked up the phone. “Well, we’ll have to figure out a way—”

  “—She didn’t do it,” I said. “I saw the whole thing. Laurie set her up.”

  He set the receiver down. “Are you sure, David?”

  “Yes, I’m sure. I heard the girls talking about it being some sort of a bet to get the new girl in trouble.” While my overhearing them was a lie, I was willing to bet my life that a similar exchange of words did actually take place.

  Millie gave the teacher that I told you so look.

  “You’re free to go, Millie. Just stay clear of trouble.”

  “You’re not going to take Laurie in?” she asked.

  “I have no proof other than Dave’s word. And I don’t want to create more drama for you or give them another reason to target you.”

  “But something should be done,” I said.

  “You’ve already done that, Dave. Thank you for coming in.”

  “Thank you, Dave.” Millie said in a mocking tone as she left the principal’s office. Why did that intrigue me even more?

  “Hey, wait up,” I called after her, but she didn’t turn around. I caught up to her just as she pushed the school door open.

  “I said thank you. What else do you want?”

  “It looks like you need someone in your corner.”

  “I’ve survived this long. I’ll manage.” She continued forward. “If you’re hoping for a sexual favor, you’ve got the wrong girl, David.”

  “I saw how you can manage out there when Laurie tried to ambush you.”

  “Well, I learned my lesson. Don’t trust blonde bitches with too much makeup.” She shook her head. I had a feeling that trust was something she didn’t easily give. That, and that life had taught her too many sour lessons already.

  “Are you a junior?”

  “Yeah, what’s it to you?”

  “Just trying to make conversation.”

  “Make it elsewhere. I gotta go.” She ran off. I stood there for a moment, contemplating whether I should follow her or catch the next bus that was about to leave. Watching her drag her Doc Martens along the sidewalk, toward the less fortunate neighborhood of our city, I decided on the former. My gaze flew back to the bus and I waved to my twin brother who was seated near the end with his arm around one of the girls. “I’ll catch ya later,” I yelled out to him as the bus pulled away.

  Before Millie turned the corner, she picked up a teddy bear and handed it back to a kid who had dropped it by the swings. She continued walking on the sidewalk, all by herself, and I followed her, sneaking behind every second tree or a junkyard-worthy car.

  At the end of the park, she stopped by a set of monkey bars and helped a little boy off. Turning another corner, opposite way to where I knew the Savages lived, the neighborhood deteriorated even further. There were more multi-family buildings than single-occupant homes, and more homeless people adjusting their cardboard signs and emptying their shopping carts in the nooks of alleys than there were available nooks.

  Millie knelt by an older lady wearing an oversized flower hat and handed her something out of a plastic bag she was carrying. I followed for over a mile before she saw me. Actually, I was pretty sure that she’d seen me earlier, but kept pretending I didn’t exist. Maybe if I’d known that would be the story of my life, I wouldn’t have pursued her for so many years. But then, I wouldn’t have known what it was like to fall in love. I wouldn’t have known the feeling of that love burning within me… forever.

  She pushed open the door of one of the several abandoned houses on the street, her mystery drawing me in with each step. Curiosity drove me past the threshold only minutes later. The rusted hinges squeaked, and flakes of iron sprinkled to the floor. Afternoon sun filtered through the boarded up windows. I took a few cautious steps forward, yet they weren’t cautious enough. A scream tore through the house before I felt sharp nails digging into my arm as she clung to me like a newborn chimp. Except chimps didn’t hit that hard.

  “Whoa! Hold on! I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “But I will hurt you.” She jumped off, but kept her hands around my sweater at the front, pulling it up to my neck in a petty attempt to lift me higher or even maybe scare me. “Why are you following me? I said thank you for saving my ass back there.” She looked at me a bit more carefully. “I already told you that I don’t do sexual favors as gratitude.”

  “What?” I peeled her off me as her tiny hands tried to punch me in my bicep. She finally let go and fell backward onto the sewn up couch. Dust rose, clouding the room. “I don’t want any sexual favors. Jeez, who do you think I am?”

  “Then how do you explain that?” She pointed to my crotch.

  I followed her gaze to my hard on. Shit!

  “It happens sometimes when guys freak out. You know, pulse racing, blood pumping… sometimes it ends up going south,” I lied. How the hell was I supposed to tell her that her rawness turned me on? I just hadn’t realized how much until she pointed to my predicament.

  Her brows scrunched together. She didn’t believe me.

  “Look, I just wanted to get to know you. You’re new at school and seemed more interesting than the make-up coated Barbies walking around the hallways.”

  That made her smile, which in turn made me smile and pumped a new wave of blood to where it shouldn’t go. Why did that part of my body have to have a mind of its own? I turned away from her and pretended to look around the dilapidated house. Halloween had come and gone three weeks ago, but those web decorations probably stayed up all year long. It wouldn’t have surprised me if this shack were haunted. I inhaled more deeply, and the smell of something rotting was nearly enough to make me puke.

  Who died here?

  “Well, for all I know, you may be trying to trick me into liking you, making me feel grateful for your help.” She paused for a moment, thinking. “And then you’ll ask me to suck you off or something. I’ve heard enough lies for one day. That bitch at school duped me, you know.”

  I shook my head and focused on a tilted painting on the wall. The colors had faded, and a spider had taken up residence in one of the corners. “I’m not trying to mislead you. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. By the way, you shouldn’t be attacking someone stronger than you.”

  “I was trying to protect myself. And I could hurt you if I wanted to.”

  “Okay,” I laughed, “let’s say you could. What are you doing here, Millie?”

  She crossed her right leg over the left and swung it back and forth, staying in her seat. Her tiny boobs hidden underneath the flannel shirt moved around when she did that, which did not help me at all. At least now, a half wall covered my lower half.

  “Ahm, I like to hang around old houses?”

  “Do you live here?” In addition to the rotten corpse I expected was stashed in the basement, the place stank of age and mold.

  “How did you get my name?” she asked.

  “You told me it was I don’t give a fuck.” I walked toward the kitchen, willing the growing boner in my pants to go down. She shot off the couch and followed me.


  Shit! Just don’t look at her.

  “I meant my real name, smart ass.” She kicked a stray pebble. It flew up to the broken window and reduced the number of glass shards by a few. The shattering echoed through the house.

  “The school’s pretty small. You won’t be able to keep secrets there,” I warned her, before adding, “I overheard Mr. Brown. Which is a good thing because for a moment I thought your name was Carlton.”

  “Well, Carlton’s my last name. But yeah, my first name is Millie. It’s nice to meet you, Dave.”

  Was she improving her manners, or was it just me? I had sort of pictured her putting up a bigger fight about her name, but she was making an effort to be nice. And was that a smile? An actual expression of happiness on her face?

  “I can keep a secret, if you wanna talk,” I added.

  “The last time I heard that was when a guy asked me to lift my shirt.”

  “What? When was this?”

  “Doesn’t matter.” She swatted her hand. “And I didn’t do it. I might be gullible at school, but I’m not stupid. I just like to hang out here. It’s peaceful.”

  Something told me that men like the guy were common in her life, and it made me sick to my stomach. I had a younger sister, and if anyone ever hurt April, I’d kill them.

  “Why did you believe Laurie?”

  “I don’t know.” She shrugged. “She was the first person to talk to me, and since I didn’t know anyone else around here who was that nice—”

  “Hey, what about me? I was nice this morning.”

  “But you’re a guy. I don’t need more guys in my life. Especially ones who pretend to be my friends.”

  Why did that sound worse than she probably wanted it to?

  “Okay, but I don’t pretend, Millie. I’m serious. I want to tell you that you can trust me, but I’m afraid you’ll punch me in my face.”

  “Well, then you’d be right.” She looked up. Our gazes connected for the first time since the start of our conversation. Her light blue eyes captivated me. They appeared almost hollow, and opened a window into her soul.