Page 5 of Always Love You More

“I’m fine,” I mumble, rolling my shoulders and dropping my bag onto the floor.

Luke looks at the house then back to me with that same face he always gets, the one that makes me feel like my skin is too tight for my body.

We’ve been down this road before, and it’s never gotten me anywhere but worse off.

Still, I hate the pity on his face.

I hate the curl to his lips.

And the tick of his jaw.

But most of all, I hate the guilt in his eyes.

Because none of this is his fault.

He may be my uncle, but there’s nothing he can do.

I lean down, unzipping my bag, and feel the car jerk forward. “Do you have the …?” I start before hearing a paper being waved in front of my face. I grab it, seeing Billy’s finished algebra homework. “Thanks,” I tell him, smoothing out my own balled-up paper.

I spend the rest of the car ride scribbling down his answers, listening to him and Luke talk, trying not to hate myself for how jealous I feel at the ease of their conversation.

We pull up in front of the school, and Luke slows to a stop. Billy holds out his hand, and I give him his homework, just as his attention catches on a blonde girl walking by. He basically throws himself out of the car to catch up with her.

Luke lets out a shallow laugh. “This one’s new.”

I hum back a non-response because we both know he’ll likely be on to someone else by next week.

After shoving my paper back into my bag, I reach for the door handle just as Luke says, “Jameson.”

“Yeah,” I mutter, glancing over at him. He gives me that fucking look again, and I instantly turn back to the door.

He waits for a minute, and I give it to him before finally he says, “Have a good day.”

His words hit me harder than words as simple as that should, and I tuck them away into that place inside myself.

“You, too,” I answer before pushing the door open and stepping out of the car.

I walk past Billy, and he trails after me with what’s-her-name tucked under his arm. Kids move out of the way, stepping to the side when they see us coming.

I don’t know when people started reacting to me like this, though it’s not much of a surprise. I have a short temper and a last name that a lot of people know stories about.

Me and Billy get a lot of cling-ons—people who like the idea of us. Who want to play pretend or try us on. Like what’s-her-name, who’s now giggling in that obnoxious way girls do. The kind where you know that’s not really their laugh and they don’t think what you just said was all that funny. But Billy just soaks it in. He always does. I don’t even think he cares that it’s fake.

“I tried calling you this weekend,” she says, looking up at him.

Before he can answer, I tip my chin, letting him know I’m out. I’ve heard this back and forth before and don’t feel like listening to it again.

He nods in response then quickly turns his attention back to the blonde.

Breaking away from them, I push up the sleeves of my flannel and pull my sunglasses out of the front pocket. I throw them on as I make my way over to the wall. It’s out by the side of the school, an old storage shed that they half tore down. It’s sort of become our place.

Mason yells out to me as he sees me walking up, kicking his feet back and forth as they dangle over the cement. A few other heads look in my direction, faces that I guess I’d call friends.

Other than Billy, there’s nobody I really like to spend time with. I hang around ’cause it’s what you do, and it’s better than being at home, but I could take it or leave it.

I’ve known Mason forever. He lives on the street behind mine. He’s pretty chill, but he’s kind of a leech—always wants something from you.

“We’re all going to the park after school. You wanna come?”