Free BoysLikeYou.indd by Juliana Stone Page B

or
    twice even, and when I was finally calm— when the breath didn’t
    catch in my chest and the pain had eased up a bit— sunlight was
    creeping into my room.
    But it was hours before I left it.

    • • •
“Monroe, have you talked to your parents today?”
    We were on the porch, and I had just sat down beside Gram,
    sliding my feet beneath me as I curled into the white wicker
    chair. I stared down at my pink- and- white checker pajama
    shorts, noticing syrup had dripped from my morning pancakes
    onto the white T- shirt. I scraped it off with my finger, sucked it from the tip, and waited a few seconds to answer. Not because
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    it was a trick question or anything, but because I hadn’t called
    home and I didn’t particularly want to call home, and I knew Gram was going to make me.
    I focused on the honeysuckle climbing the trellis at the side
    of the house and the bees buzzing among them.
    “I tried earlier but got Mom’s voicemail, so I left a message.”
    The white lie slipped out and I kept my gaze on the honeysuckle.
    Gram’s eyes rested on me for a few seconds, and I knew she
    wasn’t fooled. “Well, if she hasn’t returned your call in a few
    hours, try again. I know your mother doesn’t always check her
    voicemail. You’ve been here over a week now. You need to talk
    to them. They’ll worry.”
    “I emailed Mom yesterday.”
    “Bah,” Gram said. “That email will be the death of society as
    we know it. It’s not the same, Monroe.”
    “I know,” I mumbled. “I’ll call them tonight.”
    The truth of it was, talking to my parents was hard. So
    freaking hard. And right now, I liked not having anything hard
    in my day- to- day business. I hadn’t realized how difficult it was for me to breathe in New York until I’d come to Louisiana.
    “So,” I said, chewing on my bottom lip, “Nate told me
    about Trevor.”
    I didn’t volunteer that we had actually gone to the hospital— I
    figured that wasn’t mine to share— but I was curious to see what
    Gram would say.
    She settled back in her wicker chair, sipped her tea, and said,
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    “Good, that boy needs to talk to someone. What happened that
    night was an awful shame, but it’s in the past.” She glanced at
    me sharply. “And the past can’t be undone but we can surely do
    our best to move forward and learn from our mistakes.”
    My cheeks smarted at her meaning because I knew she was
    talking about me as well. I tucked a long piece of hair behind
    my ear and tried to think of something else besides the pathetic
    past I’d left in New York.
    “Nathan’s a good boy who made a bad decision, but he’ll be
    fine. He’s just hit a rough patch.”
    Huh. I thought of the scene I’d witnessed the night before,
    and in my mind, Nathan Everets had hit more than just a
    rough patch.
    For a moment, the only sound I heard was the faraway drone
    of a plane crossing the sky above me. I glanced up and saw a trail of white cotton, but I couldn’t see its source. The sun was too
    bright. Too hot.
    It was going to be nasty today.
    “He’ll be here a lot over the next few weeks. His uncle told me
    that most of the work I’ve contracted will be done by Nathan.”
    I didn’t say anything though my heart began to beat faster.
    Blowing out a long breath, I sank deeper into my chair, eyes
    still searching for the elusive plane, mostly because it gave me
    something to do.
    Mostly because I could avoid Gram’s eyes.
    “I’m glad the two of you are getting on.”
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    Oh God. My cheeks flushed. Getting on? That got my atten-
    tion, and I glanced at her.
    “He has a girlfriend, you know.” What the hell was Gram up to?
    “Does he now?”
    I nodded. “Yes. Her name is Rachel.”
    Gram didn’t have to say anything. I could tell from the way
    her mouth pinched at the corners as she