“Is anybody home?” Rocky’s voice called out from the foyer. I must have left the door open somehow. Once again, her timing couldn’t have been more perfect.

I turned back to my mother and smirked. “Somebody.”

Letting out a loud snort, Mom scowled. “It’ll only be a matter of time until she realizes what trash you are. Give it some time. You’ll drag her down into your scum soon enough.”

***

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to be here?” Rocky’s eyes darted around nervously. She pushed aside her art bag and drawing board before plopping down on my mattress. “I sort of feel like I’m intruding.”

Intruding on my bed?

I gulped. “You know you’re always welcome here.”

Always.

“But your mom…”

“Is none of our concern.” I waved the blue envelope in the air and sighed. Every few months my dad would send a greeting card stuffed with money. It would always end with the same line: Call me.

I never did.

“Aren’t you going to open it?” Rocky’s tone was hushed.

“Nah, I already know what it is. What’s the point?”

“The point is that I don’t know what it is, and I’m really curious!” She leaned over and tried to snatch it away, but I was too quick for her.

Laughing, I shrugged and flicked at the corner of the envelope. “It’s just a card with money in it. Nothing special.”

“Nothing special?” she gaped, twisting her fingers together. “I wish I had free money. You know how many art supplies I’d buy with that?”

“Here. Take it then,” I replied, tossing the envelope onto her lap.

Looking appalled, she picked it up and chucked it back toward me. “I don’t want your money! Makes me feel like a prostitute or something.”

“You’d have to be paid to sleep with me before that happens.” My laugh died down when I realized how inappropriate the joke was, especially given the look of horror on Rocky’s face. She leaned back into my wall and grabbed my pillow, pulling awkwardly at a loose piece of thread as she tried to avoid my eyes. “Yeah, that was kinda messed up. Sorry?”

She shrugged and didn’t say a word, though judging by the crease in her forehead and narrowing of her eyes she was deep in thought.

Averting my gaze, I glanced back down at the envelope and frowned. Maybe if I wished hard enough, the words, ‘I made a mistake and I’m coming home’ would be written on the card instead of the usual ‘call me.’ Of course that wouldn’t happen. We’d never have another chance to be a family again—not that we ever were a family to begin with.

“Rocky?” I swallowed hard. “How’s it like?”

“How’s what like?” Her eyes finally found mine, peering at me curiously.

“Having a family,” I whispered. “You know…a normal one.”

Her face softened. “I’d hardly say we were normal. A rebellious sister, about thirty cousins, and a dad that dresses like a clown in TV commercials—yup, we’re a regular Leave It to Beaver.”

“No, I mean…” I shook my head. “Never mind. Forget I mentioned it.”

“What? What is it?” She leaned forward and placed her fingertips lightly on my thigh, causing a jolt of electricity to travel up and down my skin. “You know you can ask me anything.”

My gaze traveled from her hot pink colored nails up her arm and back to her face. I gulped. “How’s it like knowing they have your back?”

“You have that…” her voice trailed off.

“You must be thinking about someone else, because that is something I definitely do not have.”

Her top teeth raked across her bottom lip, scraping off the remnants of her shiny lip gloss. “Jesse, you and I are family…” Her eyes widened. “I-I mean not like brother and sister or anything like that…I mean.”

I held back a laugh, though truthfully I was relieved she didn’t think of me that way. I grabbed at my neck and grimaced. “No offense, but you live in your happy little bubble without realizing how the other half lives, you know? You don’t know what it’s like to be me.”

“I’m not a rich snob, Jesse,” she replied with disapproval.

I smirked. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what do you mean?”

“Well, you’re loved and protected.”

And you always will be. That’s why I’ll never be with you. I’d just push you away for good.

“Jesse, stop being so melodramatic. You’re loved too…” She looked toward my door and grimaced, undoubtedly thinking about my mother. “Look, I care about you. Steph cares about you. You’re not as alone as you think.”

My shoulders slumped forward. Taking a deep breath, I gestured toward the gigantic slab of wood perched against my bed frame. “Why’d you bring your drawing board? Didn’t get your fill of drawing this handsome face in class?”

She snickered and shook her head. “I actually have a project to do for AP Art, and seeing that you kept getting distracted by Miss McMillan’s knockers—”

“Hey!” I gasped.

“—I figured if I got you alone, I could finally position you the way I wanted.”

Oh, she walked right into that one.

I wagged my eyebrows suggestively. “And what position would that be? Top or bottom?”

Her mouth dropped right open. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I’m only teasing.” Too bad my dick didn’t feel the same way. As discreetly as I could, I grabbed at a nearby pillow and positioned it onto my lap.

Rocky’s face was burning bright. “Um, what I do mean is that I want to get an exact expression on your face. Earlier you kinda sat around like this…” She dropped her arms by her sides, slumped her shoulders forward, widened her eyes, and slacked her jaw. “Uh, duhhhhh.”

Laughing, I jokingly punched her in the shoulder. “I did not!”

She giggled back—a sound I loved to hear—and grinned. “Seriously, I want you to look…”

“Like what?”

“Like how you always do when you’re with me.”

Completely in love with you?

“And how’s that?” I gulped.

She sighed and scratched her head. “I don’t really know how to describe it…I guess…not like before?”

“Care to embellish?” I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Basically, I want you to look like you’re not lusting over somebody’s boobs.”

“And whose boobs are we talking about?” I choked out. “Miss McMillan’s or Sarah’s?”

Her mouth dropped open. “See! I knew it!

“Oh, come on, Rocky. I was only looking at you in class.”

She blinked quickly. “You were?”

“Well, yeah.” I looked down at my sneakers and shrugged. “You’re the only one I feel comfortable with.”

“Or the only one you can’t imagine sleeping with,” she muttered. Though she tried to play it off as a joke, I knew there was an insult hidden somewhere in there.

I cleared my throat and changed the subject. “Okay, fine. You want to draw me? Let’s do this.” I stood up and grabbed my desk chair, spinning it around until I was facing her. “Draw me like one of your—”

“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence.” She rolled her eyes and grabbed her drawing board, hiking it onto the top of her thighs. She crossed her legs, causing the hole in her jeans to become stretched out, exposing her olive legs. “Just be your usual self.”

“Devastatingly handsome?” I joked, unable to look away from her bare skin.

“Excruciatingly stupid.”

I smirked. “You better make me beautiful.”

“You already are, Princess.” She giggled.

The low hum of the radio was the only sound in the room. Mom must have dozed off into another one of her drunken comas, leaving the house deathly quiet. I yawned and struggled to remain upright, watching Rocky’s face contort into pure concentration. It was amazing that she couldn’t see the power she had over me. Then again, it was something I tried my best to hide. My gaze flickered down to her cheek where a loose tendril of hair rested, and I desperately wanted to push it away so I could see her fully. Of course I didn’t.

It killed me that Rocky and I could never be together, but that’s what true love was about, right? Sacrifice. There was no way I could invite this loving, family-oriented angel into my dysfunctional and broken world. I needed to save her from a lifetime doomed with my torture…yet, was I that strong? When I found out Dwight had asked her out, it was like another sucker punch to the face. Imagining her with another man’s arm wrapped around her waist, slow dancing to a John Legend tune and kissing under the corny disco ball of the dance, did things to my insides that I’m not too proud of.