Curvy Girls Can't Date Bad Boys - Kelsie Stelting Page 0,32
paper to my face, reading the article.
“Beckett told me about it,” Rory said, her head in her hand. “They’re building a new wing for the burn unit because of it.”
“The burn unit?” I breathed, feeling like the ground was shifting beneath me. I scanned the words, including a sickening quote about Roy Taylor and how much he cared for children and their well-being.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Rory asked.
Swiftly, I nodded and said, “I’ve already heard of this. Let’s pick a different one.”
She shrugged and pointed out something else, an editorial about a local, elusive group called Dulce Periculum. The headline read Cops Double Down Efforts to Catch Local Vagrants.
Still, as much as the capture of DP would affect the town, I could hardly focus on the article through the thoughts rushing in my mind. I thought of Ronan as a child, the irony of his stepfather donating to a burn unit when he himself had scarred his own child. It made me want to punch his worthless face and gently hug Ronan, all at the same time.
“It would stink if DP got caught,” Rory said while we waited our turn to present.
“True,” I agreed. Dulce Periculum was as much a part of this town as the Academy or Seaton Bakery. The club had been doing stunts and pulling pranks for as long as history had been recorded. The best prank of all time was when they disassembled a police car and then reassembled it on top of the Emerson courthouse. They never damaged anything—more like inconvenienced those with power or wealth.
“They kind of brought Beckett and me together,” Rory said. “It would be like the end of an era.”
I forced a smile and nodded. I knew I was being a bummer, but I didn’t know how to pick myself up right now. The only thing I had to look forward to, really, was my date with Ronan. And even though his text said he wasn’t worried about how we ended, I couldn’t help but feel like graduation was a ticking clock toward the end of life as I knew it.
Rory took the lead during our presentation, and I chimed in where I could, but my mind was already on tonight and what I would say when I saw Ronan. He had been a bright spot in every day since I met him, and I wanted to be the same for him.
After school let out, I went to the mall to buy something for our date tonight, but I realized I had no idea what to get him. I didn’t know what he liked to eat or what his home needed or if he would like a particular piece of clothing. Ronan was so raw, existing on his own outside of a need for anything else.
I left the mall without buying anything, thinking that getting the wrong thing would be worse than coming with nothing at all. I got in my car and drove across town to Emerson Trails. The main trail had had plenty of cars parked in the lot, but Ronan had asked me to go to the north trailhead.
I drove around Emerson Trails for several miles until a dirt lot came into view. There was only room for a couple of vehicles there, and his motorcycle had taken one of the spots. I parked behind him, taking in the sight of his lean body propped against his bike. He had a paperback book folded over and was reading it, but at the sight of my vehicle slowing, he closed it and put it under the motorcycle seat.
“What are you reading?” I asked as he walked toward me.
“The Outsiders,” he answered, coming closer and taking my hand.
My fingers easily slipped between his, and I asked, “Have you read it before?”
“I read it about once a year,” he said.
I wondered if he felt like one of the boys in the book, cast away from society, or if there was something else that kept him coming back to the story.
Leaving it at that, he began walking toward the small trail opening. This was one of the offshoots of the main trail, so it was narrower and less kept up than the others, but that meant it was less crowded, even on beautiful spring days like this.
We heard the occasional sounds of cars passing by, but as we walked, it was soon replaced by the audible quiet of the forest, only punctuated by birdsong and the occasional movement of a small