Kiss Me by Alexandria Bishop

Author:Alexandria Bishop [Bishop, Alexandria]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Alexandria Bishop

Chapter Eight

Anders

Scroll.

Nope.

Scroll.

Nope.

The short list of names on my contact list only drives the point home how alone I really am. Marek is probably the one person who knows me the best, but even then, he doesn’t know everything, and Giselle is starting to replace him in that spot. How did that happen? We’ve been skirting dangerous territory all summer long.

One weekend.

Marek promised me we would come to visit his parents at the beach for a single weekend and then we’d take off back to school. I don’t know if he had a plan for where we were going to stay, but I let myself relax for a change. Although that didn’t get me into the greatest positions now that I’m needing a place to go. After the huge blowout in the living room, I figured it would be best to head outside and plan my next move.

The back door opens and it could be one of two people. I’m almost surprised when I hear my best friend say, “What are you doing out here?”

I flip my phone closed and slide it back into my pocket. It’s not like someone will magically appear in my contacts list who will be able to bail me out. I’ll have to come up with a different idea. “I think I’m going to take off.”

“Yeah? And where are you going to go?”

What? Where did that even come from? He doesn’t know anything about me, at least not the personal details so that line of questioning came completely out of left field.

“I’ve got places to go, what are you talking about?”

Marek shakes his head and takes a seat on the slab of cement next to me. “Don’t bullshit me. You and I both know you don’t have a home to go back to. Not to mention you have no way of getting there.”

He’s got me there, but I didn’t realize anyone else knew what was going on in my life. Up until this point, I’ve been pretty good about keeping that information to myself.

“How—”

“Did I know your parents died?” He finishes my sentence for me as I choke on the rest of the words.

My throat locks up and I swallow trying to form words. When I can’t, and I don’t even know what I could say I just nod.

“You talk in your sleep. It’s not often because you never drink, but the few times you have…”

The nightmare.

I hate drinking. It has nothing to do with the normal reasons most people give. The taste, the feeling, alcoholism runs in their family, and so on. No, for me, every time I drink it brings that night back. The night my parents died, and I lost everything. I obviously wasn’t in the car with them when it happened, but I remember the look on the police officers face when he came to our house. Told my babysitter that my parents were dead, and they took me away in the middle of the night never to see my house again.

My

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