Free Seeker (The Seeker Series Book 1) by Amy Reece

he started getting into trouble at school, although he had previously been a good student. As a freshman his behavior had gotten worse: suddenly he was involved in a gang, painting graffiti, breaking and entering, fighting, ditching school, and both using and selling drugs. “I was on a really destructive path,” he finished.
    “What happened? How did you get out of that lifestyle and here to Albuquerque?”
    “I got arrested. My dad didn’t even come to bail me out.” He rubbed his hand over his face. “I had to spend three nights in the county lock-up. You do a lot of thinking in jail. I thought about how disappointed my mother would be and I thought about how I wasn’t there for Megan. They were really close to taking me and Megan away from my dad and putting us into foster care.”
    “But they didn’t? What happened?”
    “My auntie and uncle drove up there to Taos and bailed me out.” He laughed, once. “My uncle looked me straight in the eye and told me to get my head out of my ever-lovin’ ass and shape up. What kind of an example was I setting for my little sister?”
    “So, that’s your Kryptonite, huh? Megan?”
    He chuckled. “Yeah, I guess so. Anyway, my aunt and uncle saw what was going on with my dad and packed Megan and me up and brought us back to Albuquerque. Manny told me that I had one chance. He gave me a job at his body shop and told me that I had to go back to high school and graduate. He and my aunt took us in, fed us and clothed us, gave us each our own bedroom. Their kids, my cousins, are mostly grown and gone. I wanted to drop out and get my GED because I was so far behind in my credits, but they said that was a deal-breaker. I needed to set a good example for Megan. I had to serve ten months in juvenile detention before I got to live with them, but at least Megan had a good home. I got out this summer.” He stared out the front windshield. “Man, I owe them so much.”
    “Hey,” I squeezed his hand. “I think you owe yourself some credit too. You have really turned things around. That can’t be easy.”
    He wrapped his hand around mine. It was a wonderful feeling; his hand was so warm and rough from his job at the body shop. “Thanks, Ally. You’re a really good person. Does my story scare you away? Still want to be friends?” He looked at me hesitantly.
    I squeezed his hand. “Of course I want to be friends. You have a great ride.” I made a last attempt to lighten the heavy mood and change the subject.
    He chuckled appreciatively. “Let’s get you home so you can get changed. Then, if you want, I can take you to pick up a new cell phone.”
    “I would love that, thanks. Isn’t it amazing how dependent we are on a piece of technology? How did our parents’ generation get by without them?”
    “Payphones, I think,” he said as he backed out of our parking spot. “My Aunt Trina talks about always having to have a quarter in her pocket when she was younger. Can you imagine?”
    “Do they even have payphones in real life anymore? Hey, there’s something I’ve been wondering about. Why don’t you ride a motorcycle?”
    “What do you mean? I have a car,” he replied, stating the obvious.
    “I know you have a car, but it would totally fit your badass image, you know, with a tattoo and a leather jacket, and that dangerous look you have.”
    “Badass image?” He laughed. “You’re crazy. Nobody thinks I’m a badass. Nobody thinks about me, period. Why would they? Most people are too busy thinking about themselves, at least in high school.” He paused and looked over at me. “So, you noticed my tattoo, huh?”
    “Well, at least some people aren’t too busy thinking about themselves.” I tried for a superior tone, trying to cover my embarrassment at having been caught out on the tattoo comment.
    He spared me a glance with more than a little smirk in it. “Do you like tattoos? Do you have any?”
    “I like them on some people. And no, I don’t have any.