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I had enough to deal with.
“How’re things at home?” he asked, and I shot him a hard look. “Yeah, yeah. You don’t want to talk about it. But last time he—”
“Drop it.”
“We’re worried, bro.”
“I can handle it.”
“That’s what we’re worried about.”
“Yeah, well quit it,” I grumbled.
“Come on, Nix, it’s—”
“FIGHT!” someone yelled, and the air shifted as kids rushed toward the commotion.
But we stayed put. It wasn’t anything we hadn’t seen a hundred times already.
“You know DA will be gunning for blood this season,” Kye said, referring to the private school on the other side of town. We had a long-standing rivalry with their football team, the Devils.
Last season, we’d kicked their asses on and off the field. Rumor was Marc Denby was their captain this year and there was no love lost between the two of us.
“He can bring it.” I shrugged, staring toward the tree line. Beyond it lay Old Darling Hill.
One town separated by the reservoir and a mass of trees. Although they might as well have been two separate continents for the differences between them.
Old Darling Hill was rich. Filthy fucking rich. A neighborhood of gated houses and perfectly tended lawns. Huge fucking estates with acres of land and housekeepers. Their kids attended Darling Academy and only ever wandered over to our side of town when they were looking for a fight or to live on the wild side.
They hated us and we fucking loathed them. After the fights and revenge pranks, it was a surprise that the school board hadn’t already forced our teams into different divisions. We knew Coach Farringdon had repeatedly petitioned for it over the years.
“Shit,” Kye appeared, a murderous expression on his face. “Why can’t she ever fucking listen?” He stormed off toward Chloe who was weaving through the crowd.
“I’m so fucking relieved I don’t have to deal with that,” Zane said.
The two of them started arguing, Chloe’s hands waving wildly in front of her while Kye glowered.
“Yep. Rather him than me.” But as I said the words, an unwanted feeling rose inside me.
I didn’t know what it was like to have a brother or sister to protect and watch over. But there had been a girl once.
My best friend.
Ex-best friend now.
Harleigh Wren Maguire.
Jesus. I didn’t let myself think about her often. Didn’t let myself think about her at all.
She was gone. Had been for a while.
And she wasn’t ever coming back.
But it didn’t stop me from dreaming, imagining what it would be like to see her again. To stare down into her bewitching green eyes.
Nine months had passed since I saw her last.
Nine fucking months.
