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anymore, Quinn?’
    ‘I was dancing!’
    Her mother rolled her eyes, like that was worse than illegal activity.
    ‘You won’t let me take lessons,’ Quinn snapped. ‘You should be happy I’m going somewhere free.’
    ‘Why would I throw money at something like that ? You’ve already gotten yourself kicked off the dance team at school. You mouth off to everyone. You’re ungrateful and nasty and no one can stand you.’
    ‘Well, you’re just a bitch .’
    Her mother’s eyes took on a furious gleam, until Quinn wondered if she’d come after her. Sometimes she did. Quinn would hit back. Her father usually dragged them apart.
    But her mother just pointed. Her voice was a hoarse yell. ‘Get out of this house.’
    ‘Where do you want me to go? I can’t walk to Becca’s now.’
    ‘Maybe you should have thought of that before you decided to act like such a spoiled little drama queen!’
    Her mother was yelling full out, now. Those stupid tears were still biting at Quinn’s eyes. She didn’t know how the woman could do this every time, just say a few slurred words and cut Quinn to her knees. Effortlessly.
    Then her bedroom door swung open and Jake came out. He was shirtless and barefoot, loose drawstring pants hanging from his hips.
    He walked right between Quinn and their mother, ignoring the clear cord of tension connecting them. He grabbed a box of Ho Hos from the cabinet and then a bag of popcorn, too.
    When he was walking back, he smacked Quinn on the ass. ‘I’d offer you some, little sis, but I know you’re working on that.’
    Quinn grabbed the food and tore it out of his hands. ‘Fuck you, Jake!’ she screamed, as the bag tore and popcorn went everywhere. ‘God, I hate you.’
    ‘Get out!’ her mother screamed. ‘Get out of here!’
    Quinn couldn’t move fast enough. She slammed the door behind her so hard that the little old man on the second floor opened his front door to peer out curiously.
    She didn’t even spare him a glance, just swiped tears from her eyes and kept running.
    She had her phone, a sweatshirt, and about ten dollars.
    It was freezing outside.
    God, she hated everyone.
    With nowhere else to go, she ducked into the 7-Eleven at the end of the street, the one that shared a building with a rundown old liquor store. There was no one in the convenience store except the bored cashier, but the Pakistani guy must have been used to half-hysterical girls coming in late at night because he barely gave her a glance.
    I’d offer you some, but I know you’re working on that .
    What an asshole.
    But the worst part was, she couldn’t stop thinking about those Ho Hos. How there was a box, right there on the shelf in front of her. How she just wanted to shove them all in her mouth and feel better.
    Well, what else did she have to do?
    Quinn took the box to the counter and paid. She’d eaten two before she made it out the door.
    The chocolate, the filling, the sugar rush — Quinn felt better and worse immediately. Cold air caught the tears on her cheeks and set her face to stinging.
    ‘Hey, baby. Time for a chocolate fix?’
    Quinn paused before she could shove the third one into her mouth. Two guys sat straddling motorcycles in front of the bar. She didn’t recognize them, but they weren’t very old. Probably not high school, but not much beyond that. Dark clothes, heavy boots, cool gazes.
    The one with dark hair and calculating eyes took a drink from an honest-to-god flask, then gave her a clear up-and-down. His gaze barely went north of her neck. ‘I like your shorts, cutie. Cold night, huh?’
    She should be afraid. She knew she should. But it was so nice to have someone look at her with a shred of desire that she didn’t care. It wasn’t like anyone would give a crap if she disappeared anyway.
    She licked the chocolate off her fingers. ‘I’m all right.’
    He laughed, low and masculine and genuinely amused. ‘I’ll say.’
    She sauntered over to them and glanced at the flask.