Chapter Thirteen
Cade
A ngel Point is a very quaint town where I gain the most side eyes. Not only am I considered a pompous, rich Hillcrest student, but I also break all the rules when it comes to the town’s image. Even now, as Sky and I walk along the shops, my tattoos, piercings, and hair are like a stain on their God fearing community. Passerby’s clutch at their pearls, and it’s like they think my derision is going to spread into their homes. Though, I do suspect their tourism will never recover once graduation comes.
“Why didn’t you say you worked there?” Sky licks her rocky road off a chocolate dipped cone.
I avert my eyes from the way her tongue laps at the cream, and shrug.
“I can’t believe you work at an ice cream parlor,” she teases and skips ahead of me to walk backwards. “It’s really cute.”
I pull my eyes up from the pavement and glare at her. I’m not trying to be cute. Rita was the only one that would hire me, and I needed the extra cash for supplies. At first I thought Angel Point just didn’t like Hillcrest students, and then I realized they just didn’t like me. Granted, no one else at school needs a job, but they mostly get treated with respect when they come into town on the weekends.
Sky puts a hand up to fend off my death glare, but it’s drowned in my hoodie that’s too big for her. Jesus, that jacket doesn’t know how lucky it is. She’s looking a lot less pale now and even a bit… happy? Is it because of me or the sugar rush? Probably the latter. Either way, I’m glad she’s no longer acting like a caged rat, or whatever that was when she shrunk against the glass doors.
I train my gaze back on the sidewalk. Even though I like Sky wearing my jacket, I feel exposed without my hood. Every thought I have feels laid bare. Agitation grows with every look I get, and I’m one wrong person away from whipping out my knife and holding it at my side, so people fuck off. My hand twitches by my pocket, but I keep it together. The last thing I need is Sheriff Hammond being called. Not that I give a rat’s ass about being truant, but I don’t need the spotlight on me, especially so close to everything coming together. Gossip burns faster than wildfires, and if my name gets brought up, it’s only a matter of time before someone wants to know why I have a P.O. box and what the hazardous stamped packages are for.
The crotchety old man that runs the Mail & Seal thinks they are for the lab at school. I made up a lie that the headmistress is tired of deliveries being late because no one can find the gates burrowed in the trees. He gave me a look like he didn’t believe me, but what was he going to do, refuse my ten dollars a month in a tourist town where no one has a need for P.O. boxes?
“So now that I’m not, you know… high,” Sky whispers the last word and falls in step next to me. “What were you doing out in the woods?”
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. On impulse, I shove my hand into my pocket and grasp my knife at her question, ready to pull her into an alley and slit her throat if she has any idea.
“I mean,” She crunches into the side of her cone. “I was trying to not get caught smoking. What were you trying to hide?”
I freeze. Why would she think I’m hiding something? Was she watching me? Is that why she’s even giving me the time of day? Have the packages given me away, and she’s a confidant meant to figure out what I’m doing? I’ve been so painstakingly careful. I don’t use the internet for anything, not even research. I use mail in order for everything I need. What the fuck could have—
There’s an alley on our right. If I can guide her across the street… But Rita saw me with her. And it’s broad daylight. Do I leave the body? I can’t get her back to my car from here if she’s bleeding. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Is there… I mean… You didn’t want the weed, so were you like, having sex with someone?”
“What?!” Her question catches me off guard, and I whip my head back to her.
Her cheeks have gone pink, and she’s staring at her shoes, and it takes me a long, and I mean long, second to understand what’s happening here. I tentatively release the knife in my pocket and tilt my head at her, a smirk on the corner of my lips.
“Are you asking if I have a girlfriend?”
“No!” She blanches, but her voice cracks. “I was just wondering what would have you being a creeper in the woods at night.”
“Riiight,” I say, pulling my hand out of my pocket with a full on grin now.
I can’t tell if I’m relieved that she’s not onto me or amused that she may be into me instead. Only the former should be happening, and yet my dick firms in my pants.