College is coming soon, and Blake Warner is sure that his life is embedded into the dead-end that is Merritt Hills, Georgia. His mother has assured him millions of times, that money has nothing to do with where his future leads.
But whenever he lie...
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The sunlight that beamed through Meg's bedroom curtains blinded Blake, as he turned his back to hers. Her alarm had been apparently blaring since 6:00 A. M., but neither of them had heard it until then. Blake slammed a hand on top of it, effectively shutting it off in the process.
Meg sighed contently, as her arm held her head behind her. With one quick look, Blake was instantly impulsed by his own actions, the night before.
He slipped out from beneath Meg's covers, ignoring her groaning in the process. "Blake, where are we going? We still have some time before my dad gets home from work."
Blake wanted to question what her father was still doing at work past first thing in the morning. But he decided against, knowing that him prying, would only make things worse once he left.
"Well, don't ignore me, Warner. I mean, you wouldn't want me to go blabbing about last night to Jeff, would you?" Meg's lips curled at her own words, as she held the sheet to chest, watching as Blake rolled his eyes.
He pulled on last night's clothing, as Meg's confident exterior began to falter at the movement. "You can do whatever the fuck you want. I'm getting out of here, and away from your crazy ass."
She scoffed, "a crazy ass you did."
"Yeah, well my fucking mistake." With that, he stormed out of her bedroom, ignoring her pleas for him to stop or wait for her to catch up.
While injecting the keys into their hole, Blake took a deep, deep breath that resulted everything he might have sabotaged in one, foul night.
But there were two, indulging thoughts, that he knew couldn't waver no matter how bad of day he'd already been having—Jeff could, and never would, find out about what had happened that one unruly night with Meghan Ukie.
Brooks' head was buried deeply into his pillowcase, as he let out hot, shallow breaths into it. His head hurt, and his lips were cracked, due to the hours of crying he'd spent the night before.
He finally stood from his sheets, watching himself in the mirror in the distance. His curls had stuck to his cheeks, his left cheek bone was colored red, from his father's assault, and his eyes were bloodshot, containing every ounce of pain and regret he'd felt.
His reflection was toxic, he noted. And at the mere thought, he swore he could just burst into tears, once more.
Helena stood at his doorway, a freshly brewed cup of hot, steaming coffee in one hand, a plate of toast in the other. She made her way up beside him, their heights roughly rounding off to one another's.
"I made you coffee, and your favorite breakfast. Your father went into the firm early today, something about signing some paperwork." Brooks nodded, taking the plate and coffee from her hands, and placing them atop of his nightstand.
Helena watched as she non-verbally refused to eat in front of her, nor speak to her at the moment. Her heart clenched with regret, as she wished she were strong enough to stand up to Charles, who seemed to only get worse as the years went by.
She exited quietly, trying not to seem too devastated by the fact that Brooks was adamant on the two of them not speaking. "I'll leave you be, then."
The rest of the morning went by quietly and quickly, as Brooks stayed inside of his bedroom, especially when he father returned home for the day, and his mother sent Lucy out for lunch.
Jackson had been sending text after text, call after call, and with every one Brooks swore that he wanted to talk to Jackson about it, but knew he couldn't.
He would never understand, Brooks knew that. He knew that nobody would understand, and that that deal he and Blake had made over two weeks ago, would undoubtedly—over.
But with one last call from Jackson, he leaned over, and answered swiftly. "I'm not in the mood for one of your lectures, Jackson—"
"It's not that, B. I swear it. I'm outside, and I've got My Big Fat Greek Wedding, and Chinese food. Let me in and I swear, we won't talk about yesterday at all." Jackson's voice was so sweet, that Brooks nodded to himself.
