Piper ignored me. “So? What did you find?”
I held back a sigh as I placed the paintbrush down. I walked over to her and slid down along the side of the wall beside her. Her legs were still crossed at the ankles, her hands in her lap, folded nicely together. She was waiting. And for some reason, instead of feeling trapped and anxious, I felt open. I wanted to tell her.
“I found nothing.”
Her lip jutted out again. “Nothing? What does that mean?”
I shrugged. “The birth certificate I found a year ago—the one that clearly did not have my father’s name on it—was missing. Gone. As if it’d never even existed.”
But it did. I would never forget the feeling of that piece of paper in my hand. It felt heavy. I’d never forget the dense, empty feeling it gave me.
“So…” She looked away, thinking. “That means...”
“That means someone else took it.”
She snapped those green eyes over to me. “Do you think it was Christian?”
I chuckled. “Fuck no.” I glanced back out into the auditorium. A few sets of lingering eyes were on us. One of them was Clementine, a girl I definitely remembered hooking up with at Eric’s. “You know Christian can’t control his anger well. He would have confronted my dad by now, and I would have heard about it from one of them. Or at least sensed it.” I ran my hand through my hair, feeling tired. “I’m sure it was my dad. I kind of hinted that I knew something the other day. A minor slip-up from me.”
“So...now what?”
Fuck if I knew. My head fell back against the wall, and I angled my chin up to the tall ceiling.
I felt the softest brush of skin on my arm and dropped my gaze. Piper’s hand was covering my forearm. I couldn’t bring myself to look at her face. “We’ll figure this out, Ollie. Let’s get through my Tank problem, and then we will tackle this. It’ll be okay.”
The realness in Piper’s voice sucked me right in.
This girl made my world go around, and she had no fucking idea.
To be honest, I wasn’t sure I’d had any idea until recently.
“You mean our problem,” I said, looking up from her hand.
Her brow crinkled, but her palm on my arm didn’t move.
“It’s our problem,” I urged. “Not yours. I’m in this with you, Pipe.”
I could tell she was getting ready to argue with me, so I grabbed her hand on my arm and squeezed. “Say it.” Her lips smashed together as I repeated the words. “Our problem.”
She scanned my face but kept her lips pressed firmly together. “Say it, or I’ll take that paint can and dump it on your head.” I inclined my head over to the paint.
She rolled her eyes, following my line of sight. “You would not.”
Oh, she knew very well I would.
“Try me.”
That was the wrong thing to say to a girl like her. Piper liked a challenge. Or so I thought. Regardless, when she didn’t say anything, I shot up to my feet. She did the same.
“Don’t you dare, Oliver Powell.”
Exhilaration had my feet moving to the paint can. I smiled cunningly over my shoulder, and her pretty lips tugged upward.
When I reached the paint, she hissed. “Ollie…”
Instead of grabbing the paint can, I grabbed the brush, blue paint dripping down to the cardboard cut-out below. “Say it.” I took a step toward her, and she smiled excitedly, taking a step back.
Her eyes were playful, and I was here for it. I thought I liked when she shot me a glare and spat something at me. I thought I liked the fire in her eyes when she rolled them in my direction, but this was so much better.