Dare You To (Pushing the Limits #2)(43)

“That’s the point. Food shouldn’t be half-bad. It should be all good.”

Scott assesses my outfit before spooning some scrambled eggs onto his plate. “I like the stud. When did you pierce your nose?”

“When I turned fourteen.” I help myself to bacon and sausage while staring at the eggs.

Scott made great eggs when I was a kid. Too bad I told him I hate them.

“Your mom wanted one. She talked about driving into Louisville to get one several times.” Mom liked to talk to Scott while Scott raised me. She moved into Grandpa’s trailer when Dad knocked her up and her mom kicked her out. Scott was twelve when I was born.

My heart sinks. Mom never told me she wanted a nose ring. She never even noticed when I pierced mine. Why it bothers me, I don’t know. Mom doesn’t tell me a lot of things. I tap my fork against the counter. Screw it. I’m eating the eggs. Who knows when I’ll get another decent meal. Scott flashes a smug smile when I fork eggs on my plate.

“Is that a baseball thing?” I ask.

“What?”

“Ryan has that same I-know-everything smirk when he thinks he’s one-upped me.”

Scott sips his orange juice. “Have you and Ryan been hanging out at school?”

I shrug. Hanging out. Annoying the piss out of each other. Same thing. “Kind of.”

“He’s a good kid, Elisabeth. It would do you good to make more friends like him.”

Noah’s a good guy. Isaiah is the best, but Scott doesn’t want to hear that. “I go by Beth.”

As if I hadn’t said anything, he asks another question. “How’s school?”

“I’m gonna fail.”

He stops eating and I shove food into my mouth. I’m beginning to hate these silences.

“Are you trying?” he asks.

I contemplate my answer while savoring a piece of bacon. On my last bite, I decide to go with the truth. “Yes. But I don’t expect you to believe me.”

He tosses his napkin onto his empty plate and stares at me with sincere blue eyes. We both have Grandma’s eyes. Dad did too, except Dad’s never looked kind. “I’m not smart. I can throw a ball, catch a ball, and hit a ball. It made me a rich man, but it’s better to be smart.”

“Too bad for me, I can’t do any of that.

Smart included.”

“Allison’s smart,” he says and he holds up his hand when I roll my eyes. “She’s real smart. Has a master’s in English. Let her help you.”

“She hates me.”

Scott falls into one of his long silences again. “Let me handle that. You focus on school.”

“Whatever.” I glance at the clock: six forty-five. We managed to have a conversation without yelling for fifteen minutes. “Shouldn’t you be heading to work?”

“I’m working from home today. We’re going to do this every morning. I want you up at six and out here for breakfast by six-thirty.”

If he’s going to cook, I’m not going to argue.

“Okay.”

Scott gathers his dishes and goes to the sink.

“About last night.”

And things were going so well.… “Let’s not discuss last night.”

“You were shaking.”

I stand, feeling suddenly fidgety. “I should get my backpack together.”

“Has someone hurt you? Physically?”

The dishes. The dishes should go in the dishwasher. I pick them up. “I really need help with Calculus. I want to drop it.” Why am I telling him this?

Scott takes the dishes from me and I don’t like being empty-handed. He places them on the counter and crosses his arms over his chest. “What happened after I left town? My dad was dead and buried. Did my brother take his place as residing bastard?”

I’m shaking again. It’s either that or we’re having an earthquake. My head jerks back when the reality of what I let happen smacks me head-on like a Mack truck. I’m an idiot. He maneuvered expertly around my walls. “Fuck you.”

I expect Scott to yell at me or reprimand me.

Instead, he chuckles. “You’re still as stubborn as you were at four. Go get your stuff ready for school. I’ll drive you in today.”

I hate him. “I’ll take the bus.”

Scott turns his back to me and loads the dishwasher. “I’m making pancakes tomorrow.”

“I won’t eat.”

He laughs again. “Yes, you will. Allison’s making goat cheese–tofu casserole tonight.”

Ryan

I PULL MY JEEP into the student lot and park behind Chris’s car. He leans against the bumper while Lacy stands a good three feet away from him near the hood. She holds her books close to her chest and snubs me by angling her body toward the school when I shut off the engine. Not a good sign. I take a deep breath and ready myself. Lacy has a hell of a temper. My ears rang for two days after the last time I ticked her off.

Chris greets me when I open the door.

“She’s pissed at you, dawg.”

“I can see that.”

Before I can reach her, Lacy wheels around.

“A dare? You humiliated Beth in gym yesterday over a dare? I’m trying to make friends with her and you and Chris and Logan have made her the target of a dare?”