“Thanks.”
Jax pulls out plates and utensils, and I quickly take them before he can stop me, placing everything on the table and pouring the juice.
“Is everything okay?” Bianca asks me, keeping her voice low.
“I think so.”
We need to talk, but not now and not in front of Matty.
But she looks away, and I see the worry.
“Hey.” I catch her eyes again. “You’re either staying here or I’m taking you home, and if we go home, I’m not leaving. We’ll figure it out.”
It sucks, I know. Being bounced around, losing what’s familiar… Even if your home life is hard, at least it’s the devil you know. It feels like everything is dark when you don’t feel secure in your surroundings, or know where you belong. When everything is in limbo. She’s never been in foster care. I know that feeling well.
“Just think of this as research,” I say, taking a seat next to my brother.
“And what am I researching?”
“Is there a Falls boy cuter than your boyfriend?” I tease. “Inquiring minds want to know.”
She rolls her eyes, but her shoulders relax a little, and I spot a smile peeking out. Hawke’s dad chuckles behind me, and Juliet places a mug in front of me. “Coffee?”
“Thanks.” I grab it.
The kids eat, but I keep checking the hallway, waiting for Hawke. Maybe he’s showering.
My insides twist a little. I don’t regret what I said, but him unhappy doesn’t make me happy. I can’t leave Matty and Bianca, but I kind of miss the hideout now.
“We’re going to the water park today,” Jax announces. “If you and Hawke want to be here around six, we’ll order some pizza tonight.”
“Okay.”
“Or you can come,” he says. “You’re invited, but I have a feeling my son has things to do, so I wasn’t sure what your plans were.”
At that moment, Hawke enters the kitchen in joggers, still no shirt, and AirPods in his ears. He carries his phone.
“Hey,” his dad says.
Hawke fills a glass with water and gulps down the entire thing. I sit there, waiting for him to say something.
But he just tells his parents, “I’m going for a run.”
What? I jerk my head, watching him walk back down the hallway and then open and close the front door.
“Uh-oh,” his mom mumbles.
“What happened?” his dad asks.
I look at both of them.
His mom shakes her head, starting to clear plates. “No idea.”
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
Why do they think he’s upset?
“Hawke hates jogging,” he explains. “He only does it when he needs air.”
Great.
An hour later, everyone is gone and Hawke still isn’t back. I empty the dishwasher, and then I sift through the clothes Juliet set out, pretty sure I’ll just put Dylan’s clothes back on from yesterday, but…
There are a few cute things, actually. I pull on some black jeans with rips in them, and slide my arms into a black and gray flannel that’s not really a flannel. The fabric is light, and I button it all the way up to the neck. It’s tight and rides up on my stomach, just a little. I want him to look, but I don’t want it to look like I’m trying to get him to look.
I sift through his drawers, hesitating only a second before invading his privacy. If he had anything to hide, he wouldn’t have put me in here. I find a drawer with hats and gloves and pull out a black beanie. I cover my head, my hair falling down my back.
“Hey!” I hear someone call.
I look around, catching flailing out of the corner of my eye. Dylan stands in her open French doors on the other side of the tree.
Walking over, I lift the window and lean down. “Hey, you okay?”
“Yeah.” She smiles, and I see people behind her.
“Sorry about last night,” I say.
But she waves me off. “I didn’t die.”
I laugh to myself, but then I see the faces of the people in her room, one of them Hawke’s ex. She looks over her shoulder, listening to Dylan as Coco, Megan, and another girl I don’t recognize try on clothes and blast music.
I try not to wish that Hawke would walk in right now. It’s shallow and petty to want her to see me in his room with him.
Before they’re off to college together anyway.
“So, are you staying?” Dylan calls out.
“I’m not sure.”
The girls laugh, and Dylan winces a little, looking guilty. “I would’ve invited you, but it was a spontaneous slumber party, and I had a feeling Hawke wanted to have a discussion after the tattoo shop last night.”
“You could tell that, huh?”
She gives me a loaded look. “So, did you have a discussion?” she prods. “But not like a discussion. I mean a ‘DISCUSSION’.”
And she does air quotes. I roll my eyes, like I’m going to discuss anything with her. Or with anyone. “Shut up,” I grumble.