“We need to talk,” he whispers as his hand finds the slight curve of my hip.
I nod in agreement because my mouth seems incapable of working right now.
“Let’s ditch,” he suggests.
“I can’t skip.” I don’t mention that I’ll miss too much school in the spring when the baby is born because he probably doesn’t care. Right now, he wants me. Our kiss affected his body much the same way it did in the haunted house, and telling from the bulge straining in his jeans, I know why he wants to leave school, but I’m not going there again with him. The last time left me broken, and it changed my entire life. I’m not willing to make that sacrifice again.
“After school,” he suggests.
“My mom is home,” I mutter.
“You can follow me to my place.”
Now doesn’t seem the time to ask the millions of questions flowing through my head about his quick disappearance from my house, so I merely nod my agreement.
“Frankie.” He tilts my chin the same way he did not long ago in the hallway.
He doesn’t say anything else, but he leans in brushing another kiss to my lips before clasping my hand and walking me to homeroom.Chapter 43Zeke
The moment in the classroom was perfect. Frankie kissed me back, and I felt all the emotion coming from her that I was feeling inside, but the second we stepped outside again, it all changed.
We weren’t three steps outside of that classroom before she pulled her hand from mine. By the time we made it to homeroom, she wouldn’t even look at me. She wasn’t in the cafeteria during lunch, and the bell for next period echoed around me before I could track her down on campus. Algebra was more of the same as homeroom, but I stayed the course, uncaring if a couple of the guys from the football team were talking to me.
I ignored all of them.
I ignored the way Bronwyn stared at me like I grew a second head.
I ignored the way people chattered around me, asking if what I said in the hall this morning was true.
I ignored the way my stomach turned when I walked out of last period, just knowing that Frankie was going to blow me off.
I was able to shove that fear aside because I knew I wouldn’t let her bolt this time. She may be able to make it home, but I don’t care if her mother is in the house. We need to have a conversation, and that’s happening today. We’ve put it off long enough, and my nerves can’t handle another night of staring at the ceiling trying to figure out what to do.
My feet stutter on the pavement when I find Frankie’s car parked beside my truck. It’s strange seeing her in this parking lot. She usually parks in the back lot, far away from where the other students leave their vehicles.
My feet manage to work again, but she doesn’t make a move to get out of her car to speak with me, so I climb in my truck and pull out. My eyes dart from the road a hundred times to make sure she’s still behind me as I drive to the edge of town. All the small houses on our street look exactly the same from the painted brick to the porchless front doors.
I pull into the driveway and Frankie parks on the street, staying in her car just long enough to rachet up the anxiety in my blood in fear that she’s going to change her mind and drive off. I beg with my eyes as she sits in her car, keeping her eyes forward. Eventually, she turns her car off, and a wave of relief washes over me when she opens her car door and steps out.
“My mom isn’t home, so we’ll have some privacy to talk,” I tell her as she walks up.
She looks surprised at the mention of my mom, and it’s just one more thing for me to feel crappy about. I just left her house days ago, so she probably doesn’t have a clue that my mom is in town. She probably suspects I just deserted her after finding out about the baby. Today, I’ll clear all that mess up. She isn’t leaving until I spill all of my secrets. I don’t want her walking away without carrying every piece of information I can offer her.
Frankie doesn’t look around the tiny house as she walks in, but that still doesn’t keep shame from creeping up my neck. This place isn’t bad, but it’s miles away from her standard of living.
Mom didn’t bring much in the back of Dad’s old truck when she drove in. Most of the furniture in the house we were living in in Utah belonged to Mrs. Jacobson. This house came furnished with everything except the bedrooms, and even though I have the comfort of my old bed, the living room décor leaves a lot to be desired.