Ugly girl

Chapter 15

“Are you going to be alright?” Shay asks as she looks me over on Tuesday morning, purposefully lingering on the deep scratch below my collar bone as we sit outside the school.

“I’ll be fine,” I groan, grabbing my bag and making a mental note not to get into any brawls today.

“You know, you don’t always have to be so tough all the time. You’re only human. It’s okay to allow yourself some vulnerability.”

Blake scoffs in the backseat as he reaches for his bag, knowing me better than I know myself. “Trust me,” I tell her. “Vulnerability and I don’t mix well. Besides, do you know how much fun it is being this tough girl? So much better than being the one who gets walked on.”

She lets out a sigh, clearly frustrated that I’ve missed her point, though I didn’t, she just doesn’t need to know that. Shay reaches out and pushes a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “Try and have a better day today, and if you don’t, then you can happily get by knowing how much you look like your mother when she was in high school.”

My eyes shoot out of my head. “Really? I do?”

“Oh, yeah,” she says with a big smile. “She’d even wear her hair the same, and wear those ridiculous little cropped shirts. You know, they were super fashionable back then too? It’s fu

Blake pushes his way out of the car with a groan but waits as I hover halfway out. “You….you wouldn’t have any photos of my parents when they were younger, would you?”

“Ummm,” she says thoughtfully. “I’m not sure, to be honest. I know I have some baby pictures of your mom but I’m not too sure about her teen years. I’ll have to double-check. I do have some of the four of you as a family after Blake was born.”

I give her a tight smile, I’ve seen the one she’s talking about but I was hoping for more. I have a craving that’s been building inside of me, a need to get to know my parents as I never got the chance to do it when I was a kid. I mean, sure, I knew the woman who would get me out of bed in the morning, make my breakfast and take me to daycare, but knowing someone as an adult is so much different. There’s a whole side of my parents that I never got to know and I’m desperate for it.

“Alright, well I guess I’ll see you this afternoon,” I tell Shay, making my move to get out.

I close the door behind me when she yells out the open window. “Oh, wait, Skylah,” I dip my head down to the window and she beams back at me. “How could I be so stupid? I forgot all about the old school yearbooks. No offense, but your mom was a bit of a nerd and was in the yearbook for all sorts of things every year. Check the library, they should still have some old copies.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” she laughs. “Now, quit holding me up. I’m going to be late for work.”

I step back from her car and let Blake pull me away. I start heading straight for the library and he pulls back on my arm. “Where are you going in such a rush?”

“Ummm…you heard her, right? There have been photographs of our mother inside this school all along. All we have to do is search for it.”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “I heard her, but you know you don’t have to go searching right this second? We have the whole lunch break to look through old books.” A grin rips across his face. “I’ll even come and help you as rumor has it that you’ve got no more friends.”

“Shut up, I’ve got plenty of friends, they just don’t know it yet.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“And you’re an idiot if you think I’m about to pass up seeing photographs of our mom for being shoulder charged in the hallway by bitchy cheerleaders and eye-fucked by Damian.”

“Is he giving you trouble?”

“Nothing I can’t handle, little brother.”

Blake lets out a heavy groan before checking the time on his phone. “Fine, I’ll come with you but be warned, I’m only staying for ten minutes and then I’m out.”

I grin up at him. “Deal.”

We walk toward the library and for once, I’m actually enjoying being at school. The idea of seeing mom’s old photographs and getting a glimpse into her life thrills me. I swear, this must have been the only positive thing that has happened to me since being here.

My excitement overtakes me and I realize very quickly that I’m going to have to reel it in, in order not to make an ass of myself. I need a distraction….hmm. I look up at Blake and grin. Perfect. “Tell me about basketball. How’s that going? Have you proved yourself yet or are the guys still giving you a hard time? I know Slade was pretty pissed off about the whole knife thing.”

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 a

“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.”