He shook his head. “I knew a girl when I was a kid…five years old.” Laughter started shaking his shoulders, coming over him like a fit of coughing—uncontrollable and seeming to take him by surprise. As if it’d been ages—years even—since he’d last laughed. “Her aunt had diabetes. The kid called it dia-ba-titties.”
I stared for a second and then his laughter infected me until we were both bent over, chortling like idiots.
“No one…corrected her?” I wheezed.
Ronan shook his head. “Would you?”
“Hell no.”
Another round of laughter roared through the shack like a storm, then subsided with gasping breat
hs and chuckles.
“Shit, hadn’t thought of that in years,” Ronan said after a minute.
“That’s a winner,” I said, wiping my eyes. “Dia-ba-titties. Sounds like something my mom’s new boyfriend would call it. On purpose.”
Even the casual mention of Chet killed the remnants of laughter.
Ronan glanced up. “He’s one of those?”
“Yeah. One of those.”
He nodded. “They won’t fuck with you anymore.”
I blinked in confusion until I realized he meant Frankie Dowd and Company. I raised a brow. “You going to be my bodyguard or something? Forget it. I can take care of myself.”
Because you made such a convincing case that afternoon?
Ronan said nothing, waiting.
Christ, I needed my hands to play. To make something of my music. To earn a shit-ton of money, so I could give the world a healthy middle finger for being so fucking merciless.
Violet was always telling me I was good at reading people. What I saw lurking under the flat, gray depths of Ronan Wentz’s eyes made me sad. Pain. Danger. Violence. The world had been merciless to him too. Something in him was broken. I could be his friend by letting him fight when he needed to fight.
“Okay,” I said into the quiet, though I doubted he’d wait for my permission, anyway.
But Ronan seemed satisfied and turned his gaze back to the water.
I shouldered my backpack. “I gotta get to work. Stay as long as you want,” I added, but I didn’t need to.
It was Ronan’s place now too.
Chapter Five
Friday morning, I dressed for school in flower-patterned leggings and a long white blouse and slipped out of an empty house. Both my parents had gone to work earlier—Dad to his job at the tech giant, InoDyne, Mom to her job as a communication manager for the city. They were both putting more hours in, either to avoid each other or because our financial situation—whatever that might be—required it.
Or both.
At school, a table had been set up on the central quad. A paper tablecloth was draped over it with VOTE FOR YOUR HOMECOMING COURT! in gold and blue paint. Balloons in the same colors were tied to weights and flanked the sides.
Evelyn, Caitlin Walls and Julia Howard surrounded me as I headed to my locker.
“Uh oh,” I said with a laugh. “Am I in trouble? Was today the day we were all supposed to wear pink?”
Caitlin and Julia laughed while Evelyn rolled her eyes. “I swear you have that whole movie memorized.”
“Memorized? I’m living it,” I said with a grin. “Except you guys are sweet.” I leaned in to peer at a necklace Caitlin was wearing—a little gold locket in the shape of a heart. “That’s beautiful, Cait.”