Broken Beautiful Hearts(46)

“Is nailed a football term? Because if it isn’t, I’m about to get really upset.”

“Not exactly.” Cam glances at his brother.

“What did you do?” And how embarrassed am I going to be at school tomorrow because of it?

Christian scratches the back of his head. “I said he’d better back off or we’d have a problem.”

That’s not so bad.

“Is that all?” I ask.

“Yeah. Why are you getting so worked up?” Christian asks. “Titan was out of line.”

“Out of line how?” Hawk leans forward and props his elbows on the table. Now we have his full attention.

“I made the mistake of asking Titan how to get to my classroom. Instead of giving me directions, he picked me up and carried me there,” I explain. “It was ridiculous and embarrassing.”

“He didn’t ask,” Christian adds, looking his dad in the eye. “He just grabbed Peyton and picked her up.”

Hawk’s expression darkens.

“He didn’t grab me in a forceful way.” I’m not making excuses for Titan. The guy is a total ass. I just don’t want to misrepresent the situation.

“But you weren’t expecting it, right?” Cam asks. “After what happened with … your knee, it seems like that might freak you out.”

“Yeah. A little.” I’m not sure what else to say. I didn’t expect the Twins to think about the situation from my point of view. It’s sweet.

“Titan always goes too far,” my uncle says.

“Exactly. He had it coming.” Christian takes another biscuit. “It was no big deal. Coach said it was a clean break.”

I press my fingers against my temples. “You broke something?”

“Just his nose,” Cam says calmly. “In football, we don’t really count that as a broken bone.”

“I think it’s just cartilage anyhow,” Christian adds.

“It’s not just cartilage.” I raise my voice and the Twins snap to attention. “Forget it.”

Hawk looks Christian in the eyes. “Did Coach bench you?”

“Nope.” Christian grins proudly. “He thinks Titan had it coming, too.”

“You’re lucky.” Hawk’s expression doesn’t change. I can’t tell if he’s upset because Christian broke Titan’s nose or because his son could’ve been benched.

“I know you two were just trying to help, but don’t you see how stupid I look now? People will think I went crying to my cousins because a guy carried me down the hall.” The leg brace already makes me look fragile and the Twins confirmed it by coming to my rescue in a situation that didn’t require a rescue effort.

“Who cares what people think?” Christian asks, picking up a chicken bone.

“I care,” I practically shout.

Christian drops the bone and Cam’s eyes widen. Hawk raises his eyebrows and sits back in the chair as if he’s waiting to see what I’ll do next.

“Then I guess you don’t want us to say anything to Owen?” Cam asks.

“About what?”

Cam clears his throat. “We heard you were arguing with him at the YMCA.”

“Are you two spying on me?”

The Twins look confused, like they can’t figure out why they didn’t come up with the idea themselves.

“Boys?” Hawk asks.

“No,” Christian says. “Rusty Thompson boxes at the Y. We ran into him at Circle K and he brought it up.” Sometimes I forget how small this town really is, and how fast news travels.

“It sounded weird because Owen is so laid-back,” Cam says. “Did something happen between you two?”

Short of a zombie apocalypse, nothing could get me to tell them what happened.





CHAPTER 19

A Girl Like You

THE SILENT TREATMENT is my superpower. It drives people crazy, and the Twins are no exception. On the way to school, they took a tag-team approach, alternating between cracking jokes and apologizing. By the time we pulled into the school parking lot, they were begging me to talk to them.

I remained stone-faced through it all. The silent treatment only works if I hold out long enough to make a point, and subtlety doesn’t seem to have any effect on my cousins.

Starting the school day with precalculus and the Weasel sucks. Despite the dirty looks I throw his way, the Weasel continues to roll his Rs every time he calls me Miss Rios just like he did yesterday. One of us might not survive the next four months.

He’ll hit the wall before I do.

After class, the Twins are loitering across from my locker, talking to Grace. They try to make eye contact with me, but I ignore them and put away my books as quickly as possible.

Grace sees me and crosses to my side of the hall. Today she’s dressed in a white V-neck tee, a fitted black leather jacket, and skinny jeans—a combination my friends back home wear all the time. Except none of them could rock red leather cowboy boots with it.

“Hey,” she says. “The Twins told me about Christian’s chivalrous behavior at football practice yesterday. Sometimes they act like idiots.”

“I can’t believe he broke his friend’s nose. Who does that?”