CHAPTER1
Ifeel him before I see him. His overpowering presence that fills every room creeps up behind me. The sound of my rapid heartbeat almost drowns out his approaching footfalls.
I glance down both sides of the hallway. Empty. Fuck.
My mouth goes dry, goose bumps pebble across my skin, and the small hairs on my neck rise.
“Hey, love bug,” his deep raspy voice taunts. A moment later, he appears on my right side, leaning against the locker next to mine. “Still haven’t shed your armor, bug?” He taps his index finger against the side of my back brace.
“Leave me alone, Colt.” My feeble request is met with a dark chuckle.
“Is that really what you want? According to rumors, you have a little crush on me.”
I don’t hide the way I roll my eyes. “You know that’s not true.” It’s really not, but of course, everyone would believe it. He is popular, a star player on our football team, tall, muscular, and of course, handsome. What’s not to love? For me, it’s his nasty personality.
He takes another step closer, eating up all the space until he is so close I can smell him. His spicy aftershave tingles my nose when he leans in, and his hot breath fans over my cheek as he talks.
“I don’t know… those texts were pretty convincing.”
Before I realize what’s happening, he grabs my wrists and twists me around to face him. He turns us both so my back is against the locker, and his body cages me in.
“What are you—” The words get lodged in my throat as Colt grabs the corner of my brace and pulls the velcro off with one hard tug.
“No!” Panic takes over, and I drop everything in my hand to fight Colt off. I look down at my body, just to find myself completely naked.
All my clothes are in a pile at my feet, leaving me completely bare in front of him.
“Oh my god! Look at this freak,” someone calls.
My head snaps up, and I find the hallway filled with students and teachers. Everyone is looking at me, laughing and pointing at me.
Humiliated and exposed, I frantically try to cover myself with my arms, looking for a way out, while Colt stands in front of me, laughing the loudest out of the crowd.
“LAST STOP!”
My eyes fly open, and my fingers dig into the sweater draped over my lap as if the soft fabric could protect me from my bad dreams.
A fog of sleep and confusion is still heavy as I look around the now-empty bus.
“Last stop, miss,” the bus driver calls down the aisle.
“Oh. Sorry.” Scrambling off my seat, I grab my sweater and backpack and make my way out. “Thank you,” I tell the driver when I pass him. I only receive a grunt in response, but I don’t hold it against him. This was a long-ass bus ride.
It’s good to stretch my legs after getting off the bus, the third—or was it the fourth?—since leaving Grandma’s. I’m still not sure whether she was sorry to see me go or not. She said she was, but she didn’t waste any time getting me on the bus and walking away.
The weeks I spent with her were a nice escape from regular life. Sometimes, when Mom is in one of her really low moods, she looks at me like I ruined her entire life. And I guess I did, in a way. She wouldn’t have gone bankrupt paying my medical bills if it wasn’t for me getting injured so badly while I was training. She wouldn’t have lost her job, either. I needed round-the-clock care in the early days. I know I cost her a lot—much more than I can ever make up for.
At least the last few weeks were a break from the guilt, even if my grandma isn’t exactly the loving maternal figure most people picture when they think of a grandmother. Mom’s never been that way either, so I guess it runs in the family. But there was no guilt at Grandma’s, and she at least tried to make sure I was comfortable and happy while I was with her.
It’s over now, and I’m actually looking forward to spending a night in my own bed again. It might be small, and it might be in a trailer, but it’s mine.
The walk from the bus station doesn’t take long, or maybe it’s anticipation making the walk seem quicker than it is. Either way, the sight of the familiar trailers up ahead gets my feet moving faster. I got plenty of sleep during the long bus ride, but that didn’t mean I was comfortable. And I could use a shower after all that traveling.
Nothing could have prepared me for what I walk into after unlocking the front door.
Somebody robbed us. Somebody cleaned us out completely because the place is empty. “Mom?” I call out in a shaky voice, almost afraid to move. I can hardly even breathe. “Are you here?” The only answer I get is the echo of my own voice.
I’ve been gone for two weeks. What could possibly have happened in two weeks? I search my memory for any hint of us getting evicted, but everything was going okay as far as I knew. Was this visit planned as a way to keep me out of here while something awful happened? Could Mom have at least warned me before I got here? Or what if it was something even worse than that? What if she had an accident and is in a hospital somewhere? What if she—