“It’s okay,” Aro assures me. “I still remember the pain, but I never had to see her again, so that was good. My mom came through that time.” She gives a sad smile. “She let the bitch have it.”
You almost can’t see the tears in her eyes.
“It wasn’t that bad,” she says, “but the scar got even worse over time. As I grew, the skin stretched, I guess. Got a little gnarly.”
“Where was your dad?”
She takes in a breath and exhales. “He joined the Navy before I was one. Saw him a few times after that, I’m told, but I don’t remember. He got drunk and died in a car crash in Hawaii when I was nine. That’s where he was stationed.”
I hold her hand, thinking about how lucky my cousins and I are. How lucky Quinn is. But our parents, like Aro, didn’t have it so great. Jared and my dad were neglected and abused. My aunt Tate lost a parent, and my mom was alone so much. So alone before she found my dad.
They found a life, because they found each other. People save people.
“Does it ever hurt you?” I ask her.
She shrugs. “There’s some nerve damage, so parts of it are a little numb, but I can use it just fine.”
“No,” I say softly. “I mean, does it ever hurt you?”
Her eyes dart up to mine, and I hold her gaze. I told her all that shit about my head, the girls, how I freaked out every time someone wanted intimacy, and I couldn’t do it. She knew exactly what to do. She just stayed. She touched me. She never pushed.
I want to know everything.
A small smile pulls at her mouth. “I used to have to look up all the time. I didn’t want to see most of what was around me.” She looks up at me and leans down to suck on her straw. “I like my view right now.”
And she winks. Everything warms under my skin, and I squeeze her hand, satisfied.
She sits back, and I let her hand go. “You haven’t asked me what Reeves said in the car last night,” she says.
I wait.
She crosses her arms over her chest. “You wanted to see if I’d tell you.”
“Asking you would mean that I didn’t trust you to tell me,” I retort. “I knew you’d tell me.”
“Ugh, you’re so infuriating.” She rolls her eyes. “You did not.”
I chuckle. “Honestly, once Hugo showed up, you’ve taken over my head, and I haven’t thought about anything else since. You’ve either had me pissed off or naked, so I’ve been distracted.”
Her face falls, and I swear I see a blush.
“What did Reeves say?” I ask her officially.
But then someone pulls a chair up to the table, and Kade straddles it, sitting between us on the side. “Yes, what did he say?”
Dylan shows up on my right, taking a seat, and Annabelle sets the food down, Dylan immediately snatching one of my fries.
Aro eyes me, looking apprehensive to talk in front of them, and I get it. They’re both live wires.
She picks up the mustard. “He wants me with you all on Grudge Night.” Then she looks at Kade. “He wants me to get you to unlock the doors to your house.”
Kade shoots me a look.
“Money?” I ask her.
“He doesn’t need money.” She lifts her bun, squeezing on the condiment, and I take it from her before she sets it back down. “And if he did, there are less high-profile people with a lower-tech security system to rip off.”
I go through Reeves’s train of thought in my head. He found the camera. He’d told Aro as much last night.
“He knows we have footage of him at Green Street,” I say.
She nods.
“So, he needs something better to guarantee his freedom,” Kade adds.
I look at him. “What would he have on your dad that he could use?”
“Nothing.” Kade looks at me like I should know better than to ask that. “My dad returns the shopping cart to the bay every goddamn time, in case someone is filming and they try to accuse him of being unfit for mayor or senator, because he endangers property or children in cars or the environment or some shit,” Kade goes on. “He’s scared to death of Twitter. My dad is clean.”
“I know.” I take a drink. “Why does Reeves want inside the house then?”
We all sit there for a minute, thinking. Kade will host the Senior Sleepover on Grudge Night. It’s different than the Senior party he threw. The Senior Sleepover welcomes anyone in the school—not just seniors. We stay together. Safety in numbers and all that. A tradition that started with the birth of the Carnival Tower legend.
Even though the Marauders don’t exist, and Weston never actually breaks into houses, we still get together for fun. We pretend that it’s real, because it’s exciting to think they might show up.