"I don't believe in guardian angels." I watch his jaw work as he turns away from me, stare at the hard edges of his profile. "If they're somehow able to save people from fires and car accidents, then they should also be able to save them from abuse and neglect." He pauses, tongue running over his lips. "But they don't because they don't exist."
My lips part with a loud breath, head raising as I drop my legs to lay flat like Rhys's. My sneaker toe accidentally taps against his foot, and he kicks mine back much harder than necessary. "Or maybe, they do exist, and people like us just aren't good enough to get one."
He shakes his head, bright blond hair flopping over his frown. "Doesn't even matter. People like us don't need them." His hand raises, roughly pushing the hair from his face. "We're our own guardian angels. We don't need anyone's help. We'll save ourselves or die trying." Cornflower eyes find mine, scrunched at the edges. "You're strong, and your parents were weak; that's why you made it out, and they didn't."
His words feel oddly like a compliment, and I can't help the slight purse of my lips in reaction. People don't pay me compliments that don't hold a hidden agenda, but his feels genuine. And that makes me feel something.
He looks away from me, ending our silent moment. "How'd your Nana die?"
Now I'm frowning. The thought of her bringing that familiar gut-wrenching ache. "She fell and hit her head. I found her when I came home from classes one day." I feel Rhys shift beside me, but I don't look, instead my eyes fixed on the sun disappearing over the hill. "She was old. The coroner said she probably died instantly."
"Do you still live in her house? With all the wind chimes?" I shake my head at his question, listening to his lighter flick on as he lights another cigarette.
"No. The bank took it after she passed. She had a reverse mortgage or some shit." I left everything but a single wind chime when I moved out. The bank tried to contact me several times about getting the rest, but what would I have done with all that stuff? I didn't want it, so I let them deal with it. I'm not sure why I chose the wind chime that I did but at least hanging in my bay window, it doesn't make much noise.
Rhys stands abruptly, and I look up at him from the grass, watch the bobbing orange end of his cigarette as he talks around it. "You're a sad, weird girl, Hadley."
I can't help the small laugh that slips out, grabbing my backpack as I stand. Apparently, Rhys has had his fill of talking and emotions for the day. "But you like it."
His eyes narrow on my face as his lips close around his cigarette, fingers coming up to hold it as he takes a drag. Smoke blows from his nose as he holds my gaze. "I don't like anything about you." It's said as he pulls the cigarette from his lips.
I smile at his frown, shifting my backpack onto my back. "See you later, Butterfly." I turn away from him, being the first to walk away this time. I feel his gaze on my back but don't look, my fingers digging into my backpack straps as I walk. I heard what he didn't say, what he never says. Rhys Elliot likes me as much as I like him, whether he's willing to admit it or not.