CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Dalton
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Balancing the sticky, orange tray in my hands, I glance around the cafeteria for my little brother.
I know where he’ll be—the table closest to the double doors that lead outside, with his head buried in a book and doing extra credit.
I never did understand why he takes them on, considering he’s so goddamn smart that he doesn’t need it.
But Kalen likes to keep himself busy and I’m pretty sure it’s his own way of thinking of anything other than Mom.
I start down the row of tables when I spot my brother in his usual spot, then set my tray down once I reach him. He grunts his usual greeting without looking up from his book, and I reach over and give his hand a gentle smack.
“You know, you could try saying ‘hello’ once in a while,” I tease him with a chuckle.
He finishes scribbling his notes before setting his pen down, finally lifting his head up to look at me.
“Hello,” he replies as he reaches over to swipe the chocolate chip cookie off my tray.
I don’t mind since I’ve never really been into sweets, and I almost always grab one just so he doesn’t have to spend any extra money.
He knows that keeping count of Mom’s benefits is a strain on me, so he does his best to not make a mess of them.
Still, a cookie every now and then won’t break the proverbial bank since I’ve got that locked up pretty tightly.
As Kalen sits up and starts to unwrap his treat, I glance toward the table next to us. Missy Danvers and her homecoming court are watching us and whispering amongst themselves.
I roll my eyes as I turn my attention back to my tray.
There have been rumors around the school about us Chazens, though I’ve never been able to hammer home quite what they are.
Mostly I’ve heard whispers and assumptions about where Mom might really be, and it kind of bothers me that no one has the balls to just ask us.
“Can I help you?”
I startle slightly as I raise my eyes toward Kalen and see him staring daggers at the girls next to us.
But I’m proud too.
He’s never been afraid to speak up for himself, and unfortunately, that’s why he gets tossed around so fucking much by the jocks.
They think that because we’re not as buff or as popular as they hold themselves up to be, then we’re easy targets.
And while I’m proud of my little brother for always standing up for himself, I’m worried that one day they’re going to push him too far.
I cast a glance again at the girls next to us and watch smugly as they grab their trays, get to their feet, and shuffle away quickly.
“I don’t get what you see in her,” Kalen grumbles before he takes a bite of his cookie. “She’s a bitch and likes to lord that plastic crown over everyone. I bet she blew the entire football team for the votes to win.”
I shrug uncomfortably.
Missy is beautiful; there’s no denying that. She kind of looks like Mom in a way with her long, wavy brown hair, sleepy brown eyes, and freckles.
Or maybe at least what Mom looked like once upon a time. Before she met the bastard we still haven’t found a way to live up to.
Which is why I take care of her the best I can, I think glumly as I reach for my sandwich and take a bite, because she can’t do it for herself. Because I want her to love us. Even if it’s just a little bit.