Renegade Path

Normally, I could hyper-focus on my schoolwork for short chunks of time—the result of rarely having a quiet place to study—but this afternoon, I found my mind wandering to Juliet often.

What was she doing?

Was she wondering the same about me?

Did her aunt and uncle treat her well?

I moved from history to my English assignment and groaned when I considered the instructions.

“Roman?” Pip’s quiet voice invaded my musings and I found him standing next to me holding out a bunch of worksheets.

“What’s up?” I asked, setting aside my notebook.

“Can you…?”

Understanding his reluctance to ask anyone for help, I took mercy on him. “Math homework?”

“Yeah. We got like three methods for solving this and I still don’t get it.”

I jerked my chin toward his desk. “I’ll help, but I ain’t doing it for ya.”

I pulled over another chair and sat next to him. For the next half hour we steadily worked through the problems until he felt confident he could work the rest out on his own.

“Thank you, Roman. You explain it way better than Mr. Chin does.”

Uncomfortable with the compliment, I shrugged. “Hopefully, I’m right. Hey, I found something for you.”

I dug out the pink mechanical pencil I’d swiped from the secretary’s desk when I’d been in the principal’s office. Lady had like a hundred of ‘em, so I didn’t think she’d mind donating one to Pip. Kid had an affinity for all things pink—something that got him picked on exactly as much as you’d expect—and I figured a pencil was small enough to hide.

His whole face lit up. “Oh, cool. The lead’s pink too!” He ran over to the desk and pulled a small sketch pad from the bottom drawer to try it out. I chuckled and went back to my homework.

“Aw, ain’t you two sweet,” someone said outside our room.

I jerked my head up and glared at the shaggy-haired brute of a kid darkening our doorway. “Get lost, Squire.”

Sam Squire was the first kid to learn that the days of picking on Pip were over. Apparently, he already needed a refresher.

“Get down to the kitchen, Squire!” someone else shouted. Sounded like a counselor. Squire slumped away and Pip relaxed.

Five minutes. Just five minutes of peace and quiet was all I wanted.

Chapter Eight

Juliet

After Roman left and my uncle went inside, I remained on the porch pretending to do my homework.

Really I was just waiting for my aunt to get home.

I learned as a little girl not to be alone in the house with my uncle if I could help it.

The awkward feeling from Roman’s almost-kiss lingered. I wanted to kiss him. Wanted him to kiss me. But the sick feeling rolling in my stomach stopped me cold. I didn’t want our first kiss to be in a house that held so many bad memories.

Thankfully, Aunt Susan arrived not much later, pulling me out of my obsessive thoughts.

She and I got along okay. I didn’t necessarily trust her to keep me safe, but she’d kept a roof over my head and food in my belly after my mother died, so I owed her some loyalty.

“Your niece has a boyfriend,” Uncle Jared said as soon as he saw his wife.

I rolled my eyes and went to the refrigerator to take out ingredients for tonight’s dinner.

“Who is he?” Aunt Susan asked.

“A new kid. His locker’s next to mine.” I didn’t volunteer that we were actually sharing my locker. It was my secret and I didn’t want them butting in or trying to “fix” it with the school. “We have a few classes together.”

“He looks like a troublemaker,” Uncle Jared said.

I wanted to say, “No one asked you,” but I bit my tongue. It wouldn’t matter anyway.

Together, Aunt Susan and I fixed a quick dinner of roast chicken and vegetables with mashed potatoes. I thought about how I wished I were in a different situation where I could’ve asked Roman to stay for dinner. That I had normal parents who’d be interested in meeting my friends from school and allow them to hang out at my house.

But that wasn’t my life.

It was never my life.

My life was being raised by a single mother who worked her ass off to give me what she could—which wasn’t much with her high school education and waitressing job. But I loved her and felt loved by her and that was enough.

One night, my mother went out with her sister, Sharon, to celebrate her birthday, and never came home. A drunk driver hit them head-on. In an instant, my Aunt Susan lost both of her younger sisters and got stuck raising me. She and her husband never had children of their own, so I felt like the world’s worst consolation prize.

Aunt Sharon’s daughter, Debbie, was old enough to fend for herself when our moms died. Cousin Debbie met her own tragic end a few years later. Something we never talked about in this house. Once in a while, her husband still checked in on me. I called him Uncle Dex and used to beg him to let me live with him when I was younger. I stopped asking a few years ago when I realized trying to guilt him into keeping me might drive him away.