Page 49 of Crossing the Line

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Page 49 of Crossing the Line

My jaw tightens, and I’m starting to wish there was something stronger in this cup. “It needs to be nothing.”

“Why?”

Shaking my head, I say, “It’s not the right time.”

When I don’t say anything more, she asks, “Because she just broke up with her boyfriend?”

This makes me take her a little more seriously. “How do you know that?”

“My mind-reading powers,” she says with her fingers pressed to her temples, and I’m reminded of how much of a weirdo she can be. When I roll my eyes, she slaps my arm and says, “She told me!” She laughs then because she always laughs at her own jokes. “It was earlier. We both went to the bar together to order another round and ended up talking.”

“People tell you too much.” It’s true. Em has a way of getting people to open up. It’s one of the many reasons conversations like this put me on edge. I always end up telling her more than I should.

“They do.” She nods seriously. “But it’s a good thing because now I can tell you with complete confidence that you shouldn’t worry about the timing.”

“And Chad?”

She waves the words away as soon as I say them. “Don’t worry about Chad. They kissed, so what? You know he’s not heartbroken.”

She’s right. I’m tempted to make a smart-ass comment about Chad having the attention span of a goldfish, but instead, I hear myself say, “You don’t think she needs more time?”

Em leans her head to the side as she considers my question. “That, I don’t know.” Resting a hand on my arm, she adds, “But I will tell you this, I don’t think she still has feelings for her ex. I don’t think she needs closure either. She’s got a good head on her shoulders, and I think what he did to her was enough to make her cut ties for good.”

The flame in my chest that I’ve been working hard to extinguish all night flickers back to life. “You don’t think she needs to be single for a while?”

Her eyes widen slightly. “Aiden, are you saying you’d want a relationship with her? Like a committed relationship?”

“No—I don’t know. No.” I wave her away from me, shaking my head.

She nods slowly with a stupid smile on her face that lets me know she’s not buying my answer. “Okay,” she says finally. “Well, I don’t know Claire, but not everyone needs a ton of time before they move on. Some people hate dating around and would rather let things happen organically. And if that’s her case, it sounds like you showed up at the perfect time.”

46

Claire

My parents are fighting again. I hate when they yell. I’ve learned that I can’t escape it anywhere in the house, so now I go outside when they fight like this. The fall air is cool against my skin, and I wish I had grabbed a jacket on my way out, but I didn’t, and there’s no way I’m going back in there. I don’t even know what they’re fighting about this time, but it doesn’t matter. It’s usually the same argument. It’s always about money. Who makes it, where it’s going, who deserves to use it more.

I hate money.

That being said, I wish I had some right now. Not a lot, but just enough to get me somewhere. I could walk to the ice cream parlor, but walking there when you have no money feels sort of pointless. Plus, I’m already cold, and there’s a good chance they’re closed by now.

But the alternative is sitting here, and I don’t want to do that either. Our front porch is so rickety that I’m surprised the old wood floorboards are strong enough to hold my weight as I walk across them and take a seat on the top step. Rubbing my hands over my arms, I try to get the goosebumps to go away.

That’s when I hear them start to call each other names. It doesn’t happen every time, but it’s one of my least favorite things to hear. I hate the name-calling, and I hate when they throw things.

They haven’t thrown anything tonight.

Not yet anyway.

My father is still yelling obscenities at my mother when I start to cry. I wish I could say it didn’t get to me, or that I was tough enough to brush it off, but I’m not. It doesn’t matter who the insults are directed at, as soon as they start attacking each other, I always cry.

There’s music playing in the distance, and it feels weird to cry to party music. It happens a lot, though. Kelly Prescott has parties almost every weekend.

I only know that because I live here, not because I’ve ever been to one.

“Are you okay?”

His sudden presence scares me, and it feels like my heart stops at the sound of his voice. At first, I don’t recognize him, but then he takes his hood down, and I relax a little. It’s just this boy, Aiden, from school. I quickly wipe my eyes. It’s dark outside, but I really don’t want him to see that I’ve been crying.




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