Starlee's Home (The Wayward Sons 3)

I get a “C” on the black bean brownies. Honestly, I’m just glad Coach Thompson lets me stay after class and clean up for extra credit instead of giving me the big, fat “F” I deserve. Seriously, they were gross.

“When you’re finished,” he says, taking another vegan cookie off the plate Christina brought, “drop the leftovers in the teacher’s lounge. Here’s a pass to get into your next class late.”

“Thanks.” I tuck the pass into my jeans pocket and stack the plates of food on the rolling cart he’d brought me and enter the hall. The lounge isn’t that far away, tucked in the far corner next to the AV-Tech room. I slow the cart as I get close to the room and knock on the lounge door. No one answers, so I go inside.

There’s a long counter that has a coffeemaker and a few other packaged treats. I start carrying in the plates, wondering who in the world wants to eat this garbage. I eye the plate of cookies Christina brought, they look good—not lumpy and weird like most the others. I pinch off the corner and take a bite.

“Son of a—” I mutter. It’s delicious and I want to drop the whole plate on the floor and stomp them into dust.

“Starlee?”

I look over and see Charlie peek his head out of the computer lab. His hair is disheveled, hanging over his glasses. My heart thuds when I see him.

“Hey.” I hold up the cookie. “Want a cookie made by the devil?”

He walks over and takes it, shoving the whole thing into his mouth at once. I’ll never get used to the speed and efficiency of how these boys eat. “That’s really good.”

“It’s vegan. Made out of Styrofoam and tofu.”

He raises an eyebrow that peeks over his glasses. He shrugs and grabs another cookie. Yeesh. He’s adorable, especially in his red and white flannel over his retro Spider-Man T-shirt.

“

You need some help?” He points to the rest of the food.

“Don’t you have class?”

“Independent study. Ms. Holmes sent me down here to work on the school website.”

“Ah, getting the most out of their free labor.”

He laughs and looks at the pile of food. “Seems like a trend around here.”

With two people it only takes a few minutes to lay out the food, and I try my best to pretend like I’m not affected by his fingertips grazing mine in the process. I haven’t had a minute alone with Charlie since he moved to his dad’s and when we’re finished and standing by the cart I ask, “How is everything?”

“It’s okay.” I must not look convinced, because he adds, “Really. We stopped fighting Dad on everything and he’s relaxed a little.”

“Good. How’s the job?”

“Not bad. If I get everything done, I sneak a little gaming time.”

I smile. “Of course, you do.”

“I miss the house, though. Sierra and the guys.” He holds my eye. “You. I really miss you.”

“It’s been hard.”

“Before you came to live up here I didn’t really need people—well, other than George. I hid out in my game and online stuff.” He reaches for me, skimming my cheek with the back of his fingers. “You changed all that.”

My heart hammers when he touches me, like it’s trying to burst from my ribcage. Charlie and I have always had this connection—the introvert thing—the loner thing. Connecting with people isn’t something we do easily, and then being pulled away from it all...it hurts deep. To the bone.

He glances over his shoulder then clenches his hand around my waist, pulling me into the computer room. The lights are already off, nothing other than the white-blue screens of the computers lighting up the room.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, even though he doesn’t have to.

“No one’s filming in here, are they?”

“No. Little-known secret: half the cameras in the school aren’t even hooked up.”