He shakes his head. “You don’t need to worry about that shit.”
“Seriously? I’m trying here. Give me something to go by.”
His eyes become distant and miserable as he attempts to give me an encouraging smile. “Really. It’s all fine.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard so much bullshit. What’s going on, Blake? Is it Slade and Damian because I can handle them. Just say the word and they won’t be a problem.”
“Slade and Damian aren’t my issue. They’re dicks but they focus on torturing you, not me. It’s…it’s nothing.”
“Fuck, Blake,” I demand, stopping in the hallway and pulling him up. I look up at him as anger begins to swirl within. I hate it when something’s bothering him and I hate it, even more, when he hides it from me. “Out with it, right fucking now.”
He lets out a frustrated groan and looks up over my shoulder in thought while considering his options. His gaze finally falls back to mine. “Fine, but don’t be mad, okay?”
“Don’t be mad?” I bark out in amusement. “You’re talking to the wrong person here.”
“Don’t I know it,” he grumbles under his breath. I ignore his quip and wait ever so impatiently for him to pull it together and spill whatever beans he’s holding onto. “I miss home, okay.”
My eyes bug out of my head. “WHAT Are you shitting me? How could you miss that?”
“Just…no. It’s not that. I don’t miss them, but I miss my lifestyle, my friends, my team. I had everything there. Don’t get me wrong. I’m grateful to Shay and Ben for taking us in, but it’s not the same. Back home…I had the world at my feet, my future was practically set in stone, but here, I have no idea. It’s like starting from scratch without knowing if anything I do is going to get me anywhere.”
“Welcome to a life without privilege,” I tell him, slightly annoyed. “Let me put this into perspective for you. The girls and your friends, they were more interested in what you could do for them than being your friend. You know that just as well as I do.”
“I know it’s just…”
“The NBA.” Guilt pours into his expression and I let out a sigh. “Can’t you just call the scouts who were coming out to see you before?”
“And tell them what? ‘Hey, this is Blake Daniels, I used to be that Valentine kid. I’m not actually who I said I was. I’m the one who left my team high and dry, but pretty please, still come and see me.’”
“Okay, you’re just being dramatic.”
“Am I? How can I ever be sure those scouts were actually there to see me or if Lucien was lining their pockets?”
“Good point,” I sigh. “I never considered that.”
“I have to start over with this. I can’t risk calling those scouts and telling them who I am because it could lead Lucien back to us, and I know how unhappy you were there.”
Geez, unhappy is an understatement. I look up at him, hating to see him miserable like this. “Just promise me that you won’t do anything drastic. Talk to your coach. I’m sure he can let you know where you stand when it comes to your chances with the scouts.”
“Yeah,” he groans. “Coach is too concerned with Slade being his star player.”
“Trust me, he’ll see your worth and besides, Slade is a senior. Soon enough, he’ll be out of here and the spotlight will be back on you,” I reach out and squeeze his arm. “Just don’t give up on this yet, okay? We just have to stick with it and we’ll be alright.”
“Yeah, that’s what I keep telling myself.”
I give him an encouraging smile and pull him along, hoping to God that Blake can find it within himself to appreciate and thrive in this new lifestyle.
We walk into the library and I instantly find the librarian who looks shocked to see students in here before the bell. “Oh, can I help you with something?” she asks, pleasantly surprised.
“Yeah,” Blake says. “Where do you keep all the old yearbooks?”
“Yearbooks?” she questions, taken back from the strange request. “They’re in the back with all the school memorabilia.”
“Thanks,” I smile as Blake nods and starts for the back of the small library. I take it all in as I walk through. I don’t think I’ve actually stepped foot in here before. It’s much smaller than I’d thought it would be. Back home the library in our house seemed bigger and the one at our old school was bigger than the public one. This here, this is almost comical.
Considering the size of the library, it actually takes us far longer to find what we’re looking for than it should, but the second we find them, the math starts as we try to work out which years mom would have attended. Again, it takes us way too long. Blake and I are sporty and creative. Math isn’t exactly something either of us excel at.