Wild Reckless (Harper Boys #1)(68)

I’m honest with Elise when she asks where I was.

“Making out with Owen,” I say, and she laughs, but it soon fades when she realizes I’m serious. Our conversation is short, cut off by the bell to begin class. I notice Owen isn’t in here, that he never came after our last kiss behind the school. He said he’d see me later, and I was too stunned to register or even ask what that meant.

Our teacher passes out our tests, and I notice that she sets one aside and write’s Owen’s name on it. Despite my lack of studying, I finish mine quickly, somehow pulling mostly correct answers from the depths of my brain.

When the ending bell rings, I don’t wait for Elise, my mind still reeling from Owen, his kiss, how I felt—how he felt. Then it turns to wondering where he is, wondering if he’s okay, to Cal—to the things Cal said.

“You look like an actual ghost,” Willow says when I meet her at her car.

“Yeah…I feel like one,” I say, my eyes not really able to focus on anything, too busy looking for Owen, for answers. I climb into her passenger seat and buckle up, and I feel her gaze on me as she buckles, then starts her engine. We get to the light at the school exit, where we wait for cars to pass so we can pull out on the road, before I’m able to articulate anything.

“Did Owen really commit an armed robbery?” I ask, and Willow takes a deep breath, never really saying anything, but letting her silence answer for her. “And he stole a car?”

I wait while Willow’s brow pinches, her lips pursing in thought. “I only know what I heard, Kens. I…I’ve never been very close to him. But, yeah…that’s what I heard.”

“And the gun…” I start, and her eyes widen quickly, then just as fast relax again. She’s trying to keep her emotions in check, trying to make this not a big deal for me.

“Will, did Owen really put a loaded gun to his head? Did he really do that?” I ask, my stomach feeling punched, inside and out, at the thought of Owen doing any of those things—mostly the last.

“Again, Kens…I only know what I’ve heard. I’ve heard the same things you’ve heard. But I wasn’t there. I don’t know for sure. But I bet…” she starts, pausing for a deep breath as we turn down the street to my house. “I bet if you asked him, he’d tell you the truth.”

When we pull into my driveway, there’s an older-looking Volvo station wagon sitting near the back door of the house, nobody inside.

“Company?” Willow asks.

“I’ve never seen that car before in my life,” I say, my gut feeling sick.

“Want me to, I don’t know...wait? Or come in with you? You know, in case it’s…” She’s worried it’s my dad.

“Dean wouldn’t drive such a thing,” I say, my mouth relishing at calling my father by his given name, forgoing any relationship he has with me.

We both step out of her car and move closer to the Volvo, when my mom and Owen step through the back door of the house, my mom holding a set of keys on her index finger.

“Happy birthday, Kensington. I was thinking maybe we put that license of yours to use,” my mom says, and I look to Owen, who’s smiling and shrugging behind her, his hands deep in his pockets, his hat turned backward.

“Shut up, it’s your birthday?” Willow asks, shoving my shoulder once, kind of hard.

“Not until Saturday,” I say, my eyes focused only on Owen’s, on the sweetness of them, the love in them.

“On Halloween? That’s awesome. Oh my god, we should totally have a party. I mean, like…an appropriate party,” Willow says, putting on a fake voice of responsibility for my mom.

“You can all come here. I’m off that day, and I’ll make a big dinner. We can carve pumpkins,” my mom says, stopping right in front of me and pulling my hand up in hers, transferring the keys. “What do you think, Kens? Sound good?”

I smile and nod. “That sounds great,” I say, looking at the small music note key ring in my hand, the lone Volvo key hooked on it. “Thanks, Mom.”

I reach for my mom, hugging her tightly, my eyes still finding Owen behind her.

“Thank Owen, too. I couldn’t have done this without him,” she says, confirming what I’d already figured out on my own. “I didn’t want to get ripped off, since I don’t know a thing about cars. He went to the dealer with me, made sure everything was working right.”

Stepping by my mom, I move closer to Owen, my throat closing up with all of the things I want to say to this boy that I…I love, my god do I love with so much of myself. I’m so afraid of everything, of what people say, of what Cal said, but I also don’t care because standing here in front of me, looking at me like he is, I know in my heart that Owen is good.

Owen is good.

In front of my mother, in front of my new best friend, I stand on the tips of my toes and kiss him lightly, pulling my face away from his before anyone notices, before anyone sees. And I whisper.

“I see you,” I say.

Owen’s eyes…they respond.





Chapter 15





I honestly think Gaby is trying to make me hate my own birthday. There’s no other reason for her to do what she did.

A Facebook message would have been simple—an email, simpler. A text, something I could easily ignore, delete without reading. What Gaby’s done is far more about Gaby than about my birthday. This package—the one I’ve been sitting on my bed with, staring at, since about seven this morning—is a Trojan horse.