Broken Beautiful Hearts(21)

Tucker tries to grab it, but he’s not fast enough. “Give me my board, Garrett. Why are you hassling me? I didn’t do anything.” He doesn’t have a Southern accent like Garrett and his friends. Maybe he really is from California. I feel bad for him. He looks at least two years younger than the guys bullying him.

Garrett leans the skateboard deck against his shoulder. “You made me look stupid in class today because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut.”

“Because I answered a question right?” Tucker asks innocently.

“I bet he did that shit on purpose.” The guy with his gut hanging out eggs Garrett on.

Garrett nods. “Yeah. I was thinking the same thing.” With his free hand, he grabs the front of Tucker’s hoodie and yanks the kid toward him.

Tucker is so much shorter than Garrett that he has to balance on the balls of his feet. “I swear I wasn’t trying to make you look bad.”

“But you did.” Garrett tosses the skateboard to his friend. The guy with the unibrow catches it and brings the board down hard against his knee. The deck snaps in half.

“No, man! Come on.” Tucker scrambles to collect what’s left of his skateboard. As he bends down to pick up the pieces, Garrett plants his work boot against Tucker’s chest and shoves him backward.

Mom comes up behind me. “What’s going on?”

She follows my gaze and sees Tucker hit the ground—and three older guys laughing at him. Mom narrows her eyes.

I know that look.

“I’ll be back.” Mom marches between a Bronco and the truck parked beside it. For someone who is paranoid about my safety she rarely worries about her own.

I catch her arm before she makes it past the front of the Bronco. “You can’t go over there alone, Mom.”

“Of course I can.”

“I’ll go.” I try to squeeze by her.

“You just had surgery, Peyton. You’re staying here. I can handle those Neanderthals. But call Hawk and tell him to come out here anyway. Those three boys need a good scare.” Mom takes off before I can stop her.

I pull out my phone and follow her. I don’t think I have Hawk’s number. It’s not like we call or text.

Shit.

Where’s Mom?

“Leave me alone,” Tucker pleads.

Garrett grabs Tucker and hauls him to his feet.

I catch a glimpse of a figure darting between two cars near Garrett and his friends. It’s another guy.

Mom cuts between two trucks and yells, “Get your hands off him!”

Garrett and his friends look over at Mom. They don’t notice the mystery guy charging toward them.

The new guy on the scene grabs Tucker and tears him away from Garrett, simultaneously clamping his other hand around the jerk’s neck.

“What the—” Garrett can’t get the words out.

The mystery guy tightens his grip on Garrett’s throat. “If you want to start shit with someone, let’s see how well you do against somebody your own size.” He shoves Garrett away from him. “Only a punk would pick on a freshman.”

Garrett coughs and rubs his throat. “You’d better watch it, Owen.”

“Or what?” Owen laughs and shakes his head like he thinks Garrett is pathetic. “I’m right here. But you’d better bring your friends, because you’re going to need help.”

The other two guys take a step back to make it clear they aren’t accepting Owen’s challenge. Garrett puffs out his chest, but he keeps his mouth shut.

“That’s what I thought.” Owen points at Tucker’s broken skateboard. “And you’re paying to replace his board.”

“The hell I am.”

Owen walks up to Garrett and looks him in the eyes. “Those tires on your truck look expensive. How much would it cost if you had to replace one of them? A lot more than a skateboard, I bet.”

It takes Garrett a second to catch on. “Stay away from my truck, Owen.”

“Like I said, you’re paying to replace his board.” Owen steers Tucker toward the stadium. “Let’s go. We’re done here.”

Tucker looks back at my mom and nods—a silent thank-you, as if he knew she would’ve stepped in.

Owen turns in our direction.

He looks right at me. His expression is a complicated tangle of emotions I can’t unravel. There was a time when I would’ve wanted to try to do some untangling, after watching a good-looking guy swoop in and rescue someone. But I’m done with complicated.





CHAPTER 9

Friday Night Lights

MOM BREATHES A sigh of relief when Garrett and his friends take off. “I guess Black Water isn’t as boring as I remember.”

“I’ve had enough drama in the last three weeks. Boring might be good. Maybe they have boring hot dogs inside.” I walk toward the stadium. That’s when I see the entrance.

It’s a tunnel.

I don’t do tunnels.

Mom notices it, too. “I’m sure there’s another way in.”

We circle around to the side of the building and find another entrance.

Inside the stadium, the field spreads out before us.

A commentator’s voice crackles over the loudspeaker. “Another interception by number seven, Cameron Carter!”