Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 113837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
And one night with the kid made me realize that this was a lot of responsibility for a teenager.
* * *
I dropped Arlo at school the next morning, and the entire day I was on edge, barely able to focus on anything.
I checked my phone between every class, hoping they had let Bellamy go. Partly for my sake but mostly for Arlo. He was a great kid, and I didn’t mind having him, but I could only pull this off with my dad for so long. He needed his brother and some stability.
It wasn’t until I was back in the car line alongside all the moms that afternoon that my phone finally beeped with a string of texts from Bellamy.
Dickhead: Just got out.
Dickhead: Thanks for getting him.
Dickhead: On my way to get him from school.
Dickhead: Sorry. I couldn’t text until now.
The back door opened, and Arlo clambered in. “Hey, Miss Drew.”
“Hey bud, put your belt on, okay?”
“Yeah.”
Me: It’s okay. I’m here. Peehead just got in the car.
Dickhead: Can you meet me at the park in ten minutes? I’ll grab him.
He wanted to meet at a park. That was weird.
Me: Sure
“We’re going to the park, Arlo. Your brother’s there.”
He squealed, and I pulled away, blasting rock music I was totally getting the kid into.
We’d been through half of In This Moment’s latest album this morning on the way to school, and he was totally into it. Because it was way better than Bellamy’s crappy rap.
As soon as I pulled up to the park, I spotted Bellamy’s tall, broad frame slumped at one of the picnic tables, his feet kicked up onto the bench. His hair was messy, and even from here, he looked tired or, perhaps, just defeated.
Arlo jumped out of the car before I’d even cut the engine, and I followed at a distance as he ran up to his brother. “They didn’t keep you!” he said, latching onto Bellamy’s leg.
“No. Just asked me questions. Did you have fun at Drew’s?”
“Yeah. She’s rich. And her Dad’s…” Arlo stuck out his tongue. “Yuck.”
A group of screaming kids ran by, catching Arlo’s attention before he ran off as I came to a stop at the end of the picnic table.
Bellamy looked at me. The tormented expression that rippled over his face caused a knot in my stomach. “Thanks again for getting him.” Bellamy scrubbed over his neck. “Nora’s family wasn’t there, and I—”
“It’s fine, Bellamy. He’s a good kid.”
He could barely look at me, and I could imagine he felt all kinds of shitty right now.
“You know I could have brought him to your house,” I said, gesturing to the park behind us.
“Yeah. The house is still a mess.”
I wanted to ask him what had happened and why he was the one who got carted to jail. But I had a feeling he wouldn’t tell me anything. “Are you okay?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
His gaze held mine like he was trying to read me just as hard as I was him.
“Bubba!” Arlo sprinted back over, dust kicking up behind him before he skidded to a stop.
Bellamy knelt down when Arlo reached for his face and attempted to whisper: “There’s Tina. See her? In the pink cat shirt? By the big kid swings.”
Bellamy glanced in the direction of the swing set, then smiled. “Yeah. You gonna talk to her, Arlo?”
Arlo’s eyes grew wide. “No.”
“If you like her, you gotta talk to her.” The exchange was so cute, my stupid heart hiccupped.
Arlo scuffed his shoes over the pea gravel, his gaze drifting up to me. “Like you’re talking to Miss Drew?”
“Yeah.” Bellamy snorted a laugh. Then scruffed a hand over the kid’s dark hair. “There. Now you look savage. Go tell her she’s pretty.”
“But...how?”
“I’ll show you.” Bellamy pushed off the bench, closing in on me in an instant. He grabbed my chin while I stood there, frozen, transfixed. “You’re pretty.” His thumb brushed across my lip. “Beautiful. Fucking stunning.”
Holy shit. It should not have made me melt on the spot, but it absolutely did.
His teeth raked his lip on a smile that said he knew exactly what he was doing. “Just like that,” he said, dropping his hand from my face.
I barely noticed Arlo run off.
“You’re an asshole,” I mumbled.
“Whatever. You liked it.”
I watched Arlo skid to a stop in front of the little girl, then grab her chin, just like Bellamy had mine. Whatever the kid said made her cheeks turn pink, then she threw her arms around his neck.
“Little player in the making,” Bellamy said, grinning.
“What is he, six?” The fact that I was predestined to lose to boys like this since childhood was disturbing.
“Yeah…”
“He’s cute. And even my dad thought he was well behaved, which is more than he says for me, so…” Comes to something when a six-year-old is held in higher esteem than me. “If you need me to watch him again—”