your freshman year in high school, and the summer before your sophomore year.”
His face contorts as he clings to confusion to dodge the pain. “But my mom . . .”
His mom was at home dying that year. The cancer was taking over her body and his father was screwing my mother.
His nostrils flare and his eyes narrow in on me. “How long have you known this?”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“Fuck it, Mia, you knew?”
I stumble backward. I’ve seen Arrow angry, but he’s never looked at me with anything short of kindness and affection. Until this moment. “I know what your mother means to you. I didn’t want to hurt you.”
He lets out a puff of air that might have been a laugh if it weren’t filled with so much disgust. “That ship’s sailed, Mia. All you’ve ever done is hurt me.” He shakes his head and backs away. “From day one.”
Arrow
I drive too fast to Coach’s house. I let my car fly over the hills on the back roads, my stomach pitching into my chest when I go airborne at the crest of each hill. Up and around Deadman’s Curve, I race toward the setting sun, wishing I could disappear into it.
I take the turn onto Coach’s road, my back wheels spinning in the gravel as I over-correct and fly through the dust down the county road to his house.
I tear into his driveway, skid to a stop, and press my forehead against the steering wheel. I open my mouth and make myself breathe as I count the lashes to my heart.
I told her I loved her, and she said she wanted to be my friend.
My father was fucking her mother while my mother was dying, and she knew. She knew.
Throwing my head back against the seat, I smack the steering wheel, and the horn blares into the country silence.
Coach wanders out of his garage, one hand on his hip, the other wrapped around his hunting rifle.
I climb out of the car, and he arches a brow. I know that look. It’s the look he gives players who show up to practice late. It’s the look he gave the QB when he fumbled the ball on the five-yard line. It’s the look that says, “Calm down, figure out what’s wrong, and fix it.”
“He was having an affair,” I whisper. “While Mom was dying, Dad was having an affair.”
“Shit,” he mutters. He leans the gun against the side of the garage and wraps his arms around me. He’s a big guy, taller than me and broader, and I tuck my head into his chest and let myself hide from the world for the count of three ragged breaths before backing out of his arms.
“My world is fucked.” I press my palms against my eyes and wipe away the moisture. I’m not going to cry like a fucking child over my father. He doesn’t deserve it. But Mia . . .
“It’s not,” Coach says. “I know it feels like it, but it’s not. Now who told you this?”
“Mia Mendez.” I draw in a long, slow breath, steadying myself against the pain saying her name brings. I just want to be fucking numb. “Dad was fucking her mom. And Mia knew. She knew, and she didn’t tell me.”
Coach puts his hand on my shoulder. “Is this really about your dad, or is it about Mia?”
I lift my eyes to meet his. “Both.” I rub my palm against my chest. “It hurts so much.”
“Take a breath. You need the car still?” He holds my gaze, his eyes stern. “You take a breath and fulfill your commitments. You can wallow later.”
I swallow hard. “Right. Of course.”
He puts the keys to his SUV in my hand and nods. “Commitments first.”
“Right,” I whisper. “I’ll be back in an hour or so.”
“Take your time. And slow down on that road out there. Killing yourself isn’t going to solve a damn thing.”
Mia
“God, you’re beautiful.” Brogan grins, as he rakes his gaze down the length of my body.
“Thank you.” I’m still shaken from Arrow’s visit, and suddenly my choice of outfit feels slutty and inappropriate. I don’t want to show myself off for Brogan. I’m not his anymore. I haven’t been since that night at the lake. Brogan’s been trying so hard that I felt like it was my turn to try. But I can’t shake the look on Arrow’s face when he left.
“All you’ve ever done is hurt me.”
“Are you ready, then?” Brogan asks.
I shrug into my coat and grab