Tags:
Fiction,
General,
Family & Relationships,
Juvenile Fiction,
Social Issues,
Interpersonal relations,
Man-Woman Relationships,
Revenge,
Love & Romance,
Friendship,
School & Education,
Schools,
Dating & Sex,
High schools,
Interpersonal Relations in Adolescence,
Conduct of life
the silence of twilight.
Though she would never admit it to her father—and he would never bother to ask—there was one thing she appreciated about this desert hel hole: sunsets. Spectacular splashes of pink and orange, a blazing bal of reddish yel ow sinking beneath the haze, lighting up the open sky. Best of al were the moments just after the sun disappeared beneath the horizon, and the sky gradual y darkened, pinks fading to purples and blues until the first stars broke through the dark fabric of the sky.
“What? Oh yes, it feels good. Great,” she said quickly, trying to sound enthused (though not trying too hard). “And if you just moved your hands down, and then I—” She sighed.
“You know what? I’m just not feeling it.”
Powel grumbled, but Kaia was done with him for the night. And final y, after she’d agreed to model her new Malizia bikini for him in person sometime soon, he let her go.
She hung up the phone, but before laying it down on the deck, had a better idea. She dialed Reed’s number and held her breath, surprised by how much she suddenly wanted him to answer.
But the phone rang and rang, and eventual y Kaia gave up. She slid down farther and farther into the water, until only the tip of her nose and her dark eyes hovered above it.
Kaia never let herself depend on anyone, and so she wouldn’t let it bother her that Reed was unavailable. Stil she couldn’t help wondering where he was …and whether he was thinking of her.
Adam blew off practice.
He had to.
Once, basketbal had been an escape, a way to get out of his own head and relax into the rhythm of running, leaping, throwing, pushing himself to the limit. It had been a refuge.
And then Kane joined the team.
These days, Adam didn’t have the energy to sink many shots or work on his passing. Every ounce of strength was devoted to resisting the temptation to bash in Kane’s smug face, and pay him back for ruining Adam’s life.
Only, after the encounter with Harper, Adam didn’t have much strength left.
So he ditched practice, seeking a new refuge from the ijiess he’d made of his life. He needed to turn off his brain, and the 8 Bal , a dank pool hal at the edge of town, was fhe perfect place to do it.
It was dark, even during the day—black boards over the windows ensured that no afternoon light would slip in and disturb the handful of surly regulars. It was a place to hide.
And, with five-dol ar pitchers, a place to forget.
He’d come here with Harper once, and she’d put on a disgusting show, throwing herself at the sleazy goth bartender. Maybe it should have been a sign. But Adam had ignored the warning, and instead dumped a pitcher of beer on the bartender’s head in a jealous rage.The bartender had vowed to make him sorry if he ever returned—and so, since then, Adam had known to stay away.
But Adam was tired of doing what was good for him—things managed to blow up in his face, anyway. So why bother?
“Can I get a Sam Adams?” he asked the bartender. It was the same guy. Good.
“Don’t I know you?” the loser asked, pushing his greasy hair out of his eyes to get a better look.
“Is that supposed to be a pickup line?” Adam asked sarcastical y. “Because trust me, I’m not interested.”
“You’re the asshole,” the bartender exclaimed. As if, in a place like this, that was a distinguishing characteristic.
“Who are you cal ing an asshole?” Adam stood up and gripped the edge of the bar. Al the emotion that had been simmering within him final y rose to the surface—and in a moment, he knew, he could give it permission to explode.
“I thought I told you never to come back here,” the scrawny weasel complained. He turned away. “I’m not serving you. Get out.”
“Or what?” Adam growled.
“Or I’l cal the cops on your underage ass. In fact, maybe I’l do it, anyway, just for fun.”
Adam flexed his muscles.
Made a fist.
Pul ed back, and—
Stopped.
If he let himself lose