She'll keep her mouth shut."
I shrugged one shoulder half-heartedly and kept my eyes on his fingers kneading the leaves. "Not likely. By tomorrow everyone's going to know that the whore of Spokane Street is my mom. It won't be too long before people start to ask me if it's hereditary."
I flicked my eyes up in time to see Derek shake his head. "She won't say anything. All I had to do was remind her that Kaia's not the only cheerleader that ever gave Chase a blowjob. She's just the only one who got caught."
"No!" I gasped, my lips stretching into a grin. "Your mouth is full of lies! "
His shoulders loosened and he leaned back on his palms. "It's the truth. Some wingman I am."
"Thank you Derek," I said, shifting to sit cross-legged. I put my hand on top of his, and he removed his weight from his hands and leaned forward, taking my hand in both of his and crossing his legs so that his knees touched mine.
"You're welcome." His eyes locked on mine, and we gazed at each other for a few moments.
"Why would you do that for me?" I finally asked.
He continued to hold my hand with his right hand, but his left moved reflexively to the tattoo at the side of his neck. "Remember my tattoo?" he asked.
"Yeah."
"Do you remember asking me what it meant?"
"Yeah. And you said it meant you were Irish." Derek gave me a lopsided grin. "But then you told me it actually meant you were lucky," I said.
Derek's grin waned slightly. "I am lucky."
"How so?"
He rubbed his tattoo. "My stepdad was a lot like your mom."
I laughed nervously and tried to pull my hand out of his. "Skinny and addicted to Facebook?"
The fingers of his hand tightened around mine, refusing to let me go. "No. Abusive."
I absorbed myself in the leaves on the ground. "She hasn't hit me in a long time. I mean, she almost did the other day, but mostly she just ignores me." I could practically feel Derek's gaze blistering a hole in my forehead, but I still couldn't look at him. "It doesn't bother me anymore."
I sniffed and tried to wipe my eyes with my shoulder, but it didn't work out so well. Derek let go of my hand and I swiped it across my face.
"She doesn't have to hit you to be abusive. I knew what was going on the minute I walked into your house tonight. I knew it because I've been there. I handled her the same way I learned to handle my stepdad when I was a kid."
"How's that?" I asked, my voice ragged.
"Treat the asshole like they're the most important person in the world. Make them feel like everything else in the universe is simply an irritation designed to get in the way of the only thing you want in your life. You know, them."
"It obviously worked. I can't believe you got her to make Monica clean up the dog pen."
"It was so easy, it was laughable. Of course, it helps that your mother was sober."
"She's not much of a drinker," I said.
Derek's eyes widened. "You're lucky. My stepdad was a mean drunk. Nothing I did worked when he was wasted."
Now I was the one who reached out to take his hands in mine. "I thought you were supposed to be the lucky one." I reached up to touch the tattoo on the left side of his neck with my right hand.
Derek stretched his neck so that my hand moved a little, almost like a cat looking to be stroked. "Remember I said I used to live near here when I was ten?"
I nodded, my eyes locked with his.
"We moved right after my stepdad died."
I sucked in my breath. "I'm sorry," I said softly.
"No, don't be. No one's laid a hand on me or my mom since the day he was buried."
"He hit you guys? But … your mom's a guidance counselor. How could she let that happen?"
Derek's mouth twisted up in a wry smile. "Yeah, she's great at telling other people how to live their lives. Unfortunately she's way more fucked up than anyone at our school. I love her, she's my mom, but she's got issues."
"She loves you though, right?"
Derek nodded. "Yeah, she does," he said quietly.
I tapped my neck, pretending to have a tattoo where Derek did. "Then
I shrugged one shoulder half-heartedly and kept my eyes on his fingers kneading the leaves. "Not likely. By tomorrow everyone's going to know that the whore of Spokane Street is my mom. It won't be too long before people start to ask me if it's hereditary."
I flicked my eyes up in time to see Derek shake his head. "She won't say anything. All I had to do was remind her that Kaia's not the only cheerleader that ever gave Chase a blowjob. She's just the only one who got caught."
"No!" I gasped, my lips stretching into a grin. "Your mouth is full of lies! "
His shoulders loosened and he leaned back on his palms. "It's the truth. Some wingman I am."
"Thank you Derek," I said, shifting to sit cross-legged. I put my hand on top of his, and he removed his weight from his hands and leaned forward, taking my hand in both of his and crossing his legs so that his knees touched mine.
"You're welcome." His eyes locked on mine, and we gazed at each other for a few moments.
"Why would you do that for me?" I finally asked.
He continued to hold my hand with his right hand, but his left moved reflexively to the tattoo at the side of his neck. "Remember my tattoo?" he asked.
"Yeah."
"Do you remember asking me what it meant?"
"Yeah. And you said it meant you were Irish." Derek gave me a lopsided grin. "But then you told me it actually meant you were lucky," I said.
Derek's grin waned slightly. "I am lucky."
"How so?"
He rubbed his tattoo. "My stepdad was a lot like your mom."
I laughed nervously and tried to pull my hand out of his. "Skinny and addicted to Facebook?"
The fingers of his hand tightened around mine, refusing to let me go. "No. Abusive."
I absorbed myself in the leaves on the ground. "She hasn't hit me in a long time. I mean, she almost did the other day, but mostly she just ignores me." I could practically feel Derek's gaze blistering a hole in my forehead, but I still couldn't look at him. "It doesn't bother me anymore."
I sniffed and tried to wipe my eyes with my shoulder, but it didn't work out so well. Derek let go of my hand and I swiped it across my face.
"She doesn't have to hit you to be abusive. I knew what was going on the minute I walked into your house tonight. I knew it because I've been there. I handled her the same way I learned to handle my stepdad when I was a kid."
"How's that?" I asked, my voice ragged.
"Treat the asshole like they're the most important person in the world. Make them feel like everything else in the universe is simply an irritation designed to get in the way of the only thing you want in your life. You know, them."
"It obviously worked. I can't believe you got her to make Monica clean up the dog pen."
"It was so easy, it was laughable. Of course, it helps that your mother was sober."
"She's not much of a drinker," I said.
Derek's eyes widened. "You're lucky. My stepdad was a mean drunk. Nothing I did worked when he was wasted."
Now I was the one who reached out to take his hands in mine. "I thought you were supposed to be the lucky one." I reached up to touch the tattoo on the left side of his neck with my right hand.
Derek stretched his neck so that my hand moved a little, almost like a cat looking to be stroked. "Remember I said I used to live near here when I was ten?"
I nodded, my eyes locked with his.
"We moved right after my stepdad died."
I sucked in my breath. "I'm sorry," I said softly.
"No, don't be. No one's laid a hand on me or my mom since the day he was buried."
"He hit you guys? But … your mom's a guidance counselor. How could she let that happen?"
Derek's mouth twisted up in a wry smile. "Yeah, she's great at telling other people how to live their lives. Unfortunately she's way more fucked up than anyone at our school. I love her, she's my mom, but she's got issues."
"She loves you though, right?"
Derek nodded. "Yeah, she does," he said quietly.
I tapped my neck, pretending to have a tattoo where Derek did. "Then
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