Rebel at Spruce High (Spruce Texas Romance #5) - Daryl Banner Page 0,149

rest of your adult life?”

After chewing and swallowing, I stare down at my toast and the mouth-shaped bite I just took out of it. “I don’t hate you.”

“Sure you do.”

“No. I really don’t.” I keep talking to my toast. “I think I pity you more than anything.”

He doesn’t respond to that. I’m pretty sure that’s not what he wanted to hear. Carl goes into these sudden changes of heart quite often, especially after a few months of being heinous with me. He then delves into a swamp of self-pitying sorrow. He just wants me to forgive him, to say I’m not upset, to give him permission to feel alright again and go about his day—especially after the explosive way we left things last week.

“I like it, by the way,” he tells me.

I take another bite. “You like what? My pitying you?”

“Nah. I mean your little Leonardo da Vinci in the garage. See?” He puffs up his chest. “I know the name of a painter.”

I smirk despite myself. “So it’s grown on you?”

“Yeah, sure. I like the beach. Always liked the beach. We all used to go down to that town by the Gulf. I remember.” He gets up from the table and fusses with the coffeemaker. “Damn thing.”

I finish my toast as quickly as I can manage, then gulp down a glass of orange juice from the fridge as Carl continues to negotiate a peace treaty with the coffeemaker. When he notices me leaving, he looks up. “Hey, wait a sec.”

I stop at the archway leading out, my back to him. “Yes?”

“Come here.”

I turn around. He’s facing me with that pained, weird look on his face. There’s only two reasons he makes that face. Either he’s having a weird emotional moment he isn’t sure how to process, or he has to fart.

He clears his throat and gestures at me. “You just got a couple of weeks before winter break, right?” I nod. He shrugs and spreads his hands. “Well, look, let me see you off or somethin’. I ain’t got a whole lot goin’ on today. Want me to drive you? I can drive you.”

Who the hell is this guy? What kind of motor oil has Carl been chugging to cope? “I can walk. Thanks, though.”

“Don’t worry, Toby. I’ve got our family.” He drops his arms. I am not entertaining the idea that he was actually expecting me to cross the kitchen and give him a hug. “No matter what life throws at us. My boss, he’s a donkey’s ass. He’ll probably change his mind and ask me to come back to work. Or else I’ll go to some other …” He waves his hand off somewhere. “Some car shop in Fairview. I’ll keep bringin’ in money. You got nothin’ to worry about.”

I wasn’t worried. I have income. My mom has income. Lee will pick up his winter job at the market soon. But I give my stepfather his moment in the spotlight and nod. “Thanks, Carl.” And as I turn to leave, I find Lee standing there by the front door already having witnessed some of this awkward exchange. “Have a good day, son,” Carl calls out at us, and I’m not sure who he’s talking to, but Lee gives him a, “Thanks, Dad,” before the pair of us head out the door together.

Halfway down the street, Lee asks, “Was he tryin’ to hug you earlier? And what was that about offerin’ to drive us to school …?”

“No idea,” I confess. “It felt like your dad was one step away from asking me to prom, the weirdo.” That makes my stepbrother laugh so loudly, claps of his deep laughter reverberate through the trees around us, likely waking every neighbor in sight.

And for the first time, when we reach the school, Lee doesn’t do his usual abandoning me as fast as he can. In fact, we don’t leave each other’s side even as we head straight for the entrance of the high school full of chatter and gathering faces. I find myself especially grateful that today, I’m not entering Spruce High alone. This may be an unfamiliar experience for both of us, but I get the impression he feels estranged from his jock buddies, so maybe our unspoken decision to keep together works in both our favors. Suddenly, I’m pretty sure my day is going to go smoothly.

Until Lee stops dead in his tracks. “What the …?”

I stop as well, alarmed, then follow my stepbrother’s line of sight to the