Free Dusk (Young Adult Paranormal Romance) by Amy Durham Page B

white tiles of the floor.
    “Of course.” He sat next to me and leaned close, propping his elbows in his knees. “I’ll bring your assignments over after school and make sure you get caught up on Pre-Cal.”
    I nodded. Where was the sense of comfort he usually gave me? Why was my gut still churning inside? Maybe Adrian didn’t have superpowers after all.
    I shook my head at my own foolishness. Thinking Adrian had some kind of supernatural ability. Geez.
    “It’s okay to feel what you’re feeling,” he said. “Sometimes you’ve got to feel the hurt, go through it, before you can start to heal.”
    I looked at him then, turned his words of wisdom over in my head. I wasn’t sure about healing, but I was sure as hell feeling the hurt.
    *     *     *
    After the initial check of my forehead for fever and the typical questions about nausea, headache, and sore throat – of which nausea was the only thing I admitted to – my mom drove me home. We didn’t talk.
    A hundred different emotions ran through me. Anger. Bitterness. Humiliation. Fear. Confusion. And the ever-present grief and guilt. It all bubbled and simmered like a pool of poison ready to erupt.
    Just as mom turned into the driveway, I broke the silence.
    “Did you know the woman Dad cheated with?”
    Mom looked at me, and I pinned her with my gaze, wanting to know I was dead serious. I saw the reluctance in her eyes. She did not want to go there. I also knew the moment she decided to answer me, because her expression changed, like she knew if I was giving her an opening to talk about Dad, she’d better take it.
    “I knew her name, but not much else,” she said, pulling the car to a stop in the driveway. “He said she’d moved to town a few years ago and wasn’t connected to anyone here.”
    True enough. I remembered when Courtney came to Rison Middle School in the seventh grade.
    “What was her name?”
    “Zoe, don’t do this,” Mom pleaded. “Don’t dredge up specifics. It won’t change what happened.”
    “What was her name, Mom?” I demanded.
    She took a deep breath and shook her head. “Mitzi Wayne.”
    Bingo.
    “That’s Courtney Powell’s mother.”
    “Oh God.” Mom’s voice shook. “The different last names. I never put it together.”
    “Yeah, well Courtney did. She dropped it on me in the lobby in front of everyone.”
    I watched my mom’s heart break all over again, as pain filled her eyes. “Zoe…”
    “Don’t say you’re sorry,” I said, opening the car door and grabbing my backpack. “He’s the one who did it. Just don’t expect me to get over it any time soon.”
    “I’ll call the office,” she said just before I got out of the car. Desperation laced her voice. “I’ll tell them I can’t come back in today.”
    “Go back to the office, Mom.” I stepped out of the car, but turned back to face her. “I don’t want company. And if you stay, I’m not talking to you about this.”
    I shut the car door with a quiet click rather than a slam, then marched to the house, went inside, and cried all over again.
    *     *     *
    I heard the roar of Adrian’s motorcycle pulling into the driveway. Glancing at the clock, I knew he had come straight here from school.
    I made my way to the front door and stepped out onto the porch, trying without much success to tamp down on the mountain of self-pity I’d wallowed in all day.
    He cut the engine and parked the bike, placing his helmet on the seat and unhooking his book bag from the back where it was secured with the bungee cord.
    “Have you been alone all day?” he asked, approaching the front porch.
    I nodded, and I could tell that my confirmation did not sit well with him.
    “Did you tell your mom?” He stopped at the edge of the sidewalk, not stepping up onto the porch, putting us at eye-level.
    “Yes,” I said. “She tried to insist on staying home the rest of the day, but I told her I didn’t want company.”
    “That still true?” he