Pretty Boy (Perfect Boys #1) - K.M. Neuhold Page 0,21

grab a piece of paper and pencil.

The kitchen chair scrapes against the linoleum floor when I pull it out so I can sit down. I never been all that good with words. You’d think I’d be an expert at writing a goodbye note since I’ve been left so many times in my life. Except gran never left me any kinda note and neither did my daddy. Mama left a lot of notes, but they all said the same thing. I guess if it’s good enough for me, it’ll be good enough for her.

I stop tapping my pencil against the table and get to writing.

Mama,

I met a man. He says he can give me a better life. Not sure I believe him, but I figure anything is better than Billow.

Love,

Sterling

P.S. Here’s his number if you need to reach me

I add Barrett’s number to the bottom of the letter and read it over. It’s pretty short, but it gets the message across. She don’t wanna read anything flowery from me anyway, so it’ll do.

I leave the note pinned to the fridge and gather up my bags. The next part is bound to be harder than this first part. I look around as I walk down the road toward the bar. In a way, it feels like I’m seeing this town in a new light. What’ll Vegas be like? No chance of seeing Mr. Murphy’s old cow wandering loose anywhere after knocking down her flimsy fence again, no pies cooling on any window sills in the late fall, and, if I’m lucky, no more people with nothing better to do than stare.

My steps slow the closer I get to the bar. It might’ve been easy enough writing a letter my mama may or may not ever see. But saying goodbye to Miss Maggie is going to be a whole heck of a lot harder. In a lotta ways, she’s been more of a mother to me than my own mama. Especially, after gran died. She was kind to me, gave me a job at the bar as soon as I was old enough, always made sure to check up on me whenever she could.

I stop just outside the door, wiping my hands on my jeans and taking a deep breath before grabbing the door handle and tugging it open. It creaks in a strangely comforting way. I’ve been coming by Billow’s Tavern since long before I was drinking age, usually to look for mama if she’d been gone for a few days. What’ll it be like in a new town without any memories? Not that too many of my memories around here are real good, but they are mine.

Miss Maggie looks up at the sound of the door, her eyes dropping immediately to the bags in my hands.

“Aw, hell, Sterling, don’t tell me you’re takin’ up your mama’s bad habit of yo-yoing in and outta town.”

I let my bags slip out of my fingers, landing on the floor with a soft thud. Then, I grab the nearest stool, sitting down and dipping my head.

“No, ma’am,” I answer.

“You ain’t leavin’?” Her tone makes it clear she don’t believe me.

“I am leavin’.” I lift my head and fix her with the most confident look I can muster. “I ain’t comin’ back though.”

She snorts and shakes her head at me. “You always been a good boy, Sterling.” The words are soothing, but certainly not as exciting as when Barrett gifts them to me. “I hate to see you make the same mistakes she always made.”

“I’m not,” I promise her. “I think there’s more out there for me.”

“More?” She still don’t sound convinced. “What more? There’s just life, and it’s the same out there as it is right here.”

I shrug one shoulder, feeling a little silly for the hope that’s managed to worm its way inside me since last night. “I think I could find somewhere I’d be happier, maybe somewhere nobody knows all about my mama and daddy. Don’t you think there are places where people might be too busy to stop and stare at me?” The feeling of certainty only grows the more I talk about this place I can’t stop imaging. “You always hear about those big cities full of self-absorbed, faceless people. Well, I think I could stand to be faceless for a change, and self-absorbed works just fine for me. I gotta at least try, or I’ll never know.”

Her expression softens, and I can tell she sees my point, at least a