Flash (Penmore #2) by Malorie Verdant

Author:Malorie Verdant [Verdant, Malorie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Goodreads: 38896871
Publisher: Malorie Verdant
Published: 2018-03-31T23:00:00+00:00

MILLIE

We were in my car, my hand resting close to his.

We hadn’t spoken since I’d silently strapped a sleepy Jessie into her car seat and thanked him for holding the passenger door open for me. After I climbed in and we drove off, the tension built to mammoth proportions.

We didn’t say a word as we passed the campus. The local coffee stores flashed by and I held my breath as we entered my less-than-ideal suburb. The radio kept playing classic hits from the seventies and eighties. Slightly embarrassed by my musical taste, I kept wishing it would turn into hip-hop or chart-topping music. Unfortunately, almost as soon as we drove away from the stadium, I became too nervous to change the station. Jimmy Cliff started singing “Many Rivers to Cross,” and I couldn’t do or say anything. The song and the tension in the car were freaking me out.

When we drove behind a row of run-down houses and reached a small park, I was shocked. Nestled amongst the trees was a picturesque little playground. From the parking lot, it was almost hidden from view, untouched by the grime that covered everything else within a five-mile radius.

If I weren’t panicked about the secrets he was about to tell me, I might’ve stared at the park with wonder and excitement, imagining Jessie’s future play-dates.

Instead, the consequences of my actions were plaguing me. I still couldn’t believe that I had chased after him. Ordered him to share what was bothering him. I was meant to stay away, protect myself from the foolish ways I could end up hurt. I was meant to be strong. The cool, unfeeling bitch mask was to be duct-taped to my face. Instead, I’d noticed him on the field, detached from everyone, alone and hurting. And I became the bleeding-heart fool who always got me into trouble.

I watched him walk off the field as if he were immune from the joy around him. And I saw myself at Nate’s funeral. The damaged girl, incapable of smiling or laughing. I recognized the loneliness that cloaked his body. The type that transformed how you walk and talk, that helped push everyone away. The type that convinced you that any hand reaching out might latch on, turn into an anchor, and drag you to the bottom.

So, I grabbed my bag, my girl, and ran—toward him and everything I told myself I would stay far away from. I didn’t explain myself to Parker or anyone as I maneuvered through the crowd, pulled by some invisible string. I knew when I got to him that he might not let me get close because of how I’d been acting, but also because when you feel like you’re about to self-combust, you just want to be alone.

But I decided to try. Even if nothing had changed since our last discussion. Even if I still felt ill-equipped for the job of helping someone else sort out their problems. I wasn’t the cheerful girl in the café. I didn’t have any answers to find happiness.

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