“Oh, okay.” She relaxes a bit. “That was really nice of her.”

“Yeah, it is.” I’m not surprised Luna agreed to help me, even with what happened our sophomore year. She’s just that way—really nice and sweet, something I’m not used to.

Stuffing the rest of the fruit snacks into my pocket, I wander back to my room to put my books on my bed. Then I pull out the envelope Beckett gave me. I’m still unsure what I’m going to do with the money inside—whether I’m going to spend it or not. I want back what I gave up for it, but my family needs the help. And once I spend it, what I gave to Beck will be gone forever.

I hide the envelope under my mattress where my mom won’t find it then leave my room. I yell bye to my mom then head out the front door before she can say anything to me. She’s been so stressed out over the last few months, and I hate that she now has to worry over her son’s life falling apart.

I’m trying to get my shit together; get my grades up, get a job, and start paying for my own stuff. If I wasn’t such a spoiled brat to begin with, the change might not have been so hard. But up until my father got sick, and even a little bit after, I was a cocky asshole who always got his way. I’m trying not to be that person anymore, though, because I get it now—what it feels like to have the whole world against you sometimes. And what it feels like to be truly ashamed of the person you are.

“You’re a good son, Grey,” were my dad’s final words to me. He looked up at me from his bed, pale and thin, just bones and skin, as he clasped onto my hand. “I’m so proud of the man you’ve become.”

He was wrong, though. I wasn’t a good person. I was someone who stood around and watched people get bullied and who did it himself sometimes. I was an asshole. Cocky. I had never done anything good. And I let my dad die thinking I was the opposite of who I was. I didn’t even have the balls to tell him the truth.

My eyes burn with tears as I wind around the corner of the block to the main street that runs through town. I wipe my eyes before I pick up my pace for the entrance door of the building where the sessions take place, noting the time on the town clock and realizing I’m early.

I slam to a stop when I spot Luna walking up the sidewalk in my direction with an older woman and man at her side. Either they’re her parents or her grandparents. I can’t tell because they look older, at least sixty or so.

Luna looks different than she does at school, more tense and depressed. She’s not wearing the shorts and tank top she had on earlier, either—the ones that show off her long, lean legs and smooth skin. I remember the first day she came to school dressed differently. It was toward the beginning of junior year, and everyone was talking about it. Some people were making fun of how she got the clothes.

“She must have robbed a store or something,” I remember Piper saying. “Seriously, there’s no way she can go from thrift store shit to designer.”

I didn’t say anything, only nodded along. I never really said much, which didn’t make me any better than the rest of them.

Not everyone was rude about it, though. I remember hearing a couple of my friends talking about her “hot ass.” She does have a hot ass, and those legs of hers go on for miles. But the outfit she has on now covers up all of that and swallows her body up.

“I still can’t believe what you’ve done,” the woman seethes at her as she jerks open the door to the building I’m supposed to be going into. “You know better than to have those kinds of things. After everything I’ve taught you about right and wrong, you should know better. You shouldn’t even want that kind of stuff.”

Luna enters the building, biting her nails, and the woman and man go inside with her.

I briefly contemplate the idea of ditching the therapy session and just going home. The last thing I want is for people at school to find out what I did or why I did it. I don’t think Luna is the kind of person to tell anyone, though, so I crack my knuckles, square my shoulders, and pull the door open.

The woman is still chewing out Luna as I walk in. Thankfully, no one else has arrived yet since she’s making a scene, and Luna looks horrified enough without an audience.

“It’s ridiculous that we’re even here,” she snaps, standing on her tiptoes to get in Luna’s face.

The man remains close to Luna, backing her into a corner, as if they’re trying to make “intimidate Luna” a team effort.

“I can’t believe my daughter has to come to a place like this, but you need to learn your lesson because clearly my punishments aren’t working anymore. Hopefully, this place can give you some insight on what’s going to happen to you if you keep heading in the direction that you are going. You’ll end up like these people: a drug addict, a thief, a whore. You’re going to turn out just like your aunt Ashlynn. Is that what you want to be, Luna, a whore? Because with those clothes I found and that makeup, that’s where you’re going to end up. You’re becoming such a terrible person.”

Whoa. This woman is intense.

I contemplate backing out of the room and waiting outside or maybe even stepping in and stopping them, but the man glances in my direction and gives me a judgmental look that pisses me off. I carry his gaze, daring him to say something to me. He glares at me before looking away.

Yeah, douchebag, look away.

The woman—Luna’s mom—fiddles with Luna’s hair and tugs on the bottom of her sweatshirt that already reaches her knees. Then she does the same to her own hair and button down shirt.

“You will have exactly ten minutes to get home after the class ends at five o’clock. If you’re late, you will get more punishments, do you understand?”

“Yes,” Luna mutters with her eyes fixed on the carpet.

“I’d pick you up myself, but your father and I have a church meeting,” she continues. “Your phone better show you at home at five ten.”

“I said I understand.” Luna squeezes her eyes shut.

“This is your own fault,” the man, who I assume is her dad, says in an icy tone. “You did this to yourself by making the wrong choices, choices that have embarrassed this family. Think about that while you’re here. Think about what a terrible person you are, how much you screw up all the time, and where that’s going to get you in life. Nowhere. That’s where. Losers always stay losers, Luna, so stop being one.”

With that, the two of them turn to leave. As they pass by me, the man gives me a nasty look, while the woman’s eyes narrow on me.

“See? That’s the kind people that belong here,” she whispers loud enough for me to hear. “He looks like a troublemaker.”

“I think that’s Gary Sawyer’s son,” the man replies as he shoves open the door. “So that’s no surprise.”

Hearing him talk about my dad that way makes me want to beat his ass. My dad was a good person, who yeah, let me get away with more shit than he should’ve, but he never yelled at me and tried to intimidate me by telling me I’m a bad person.

Getting into a fight with an old dude is the last thing I should be doing, though, so I curl my hands into fists and focus on breathing until the two of them leave the building.

“Goddammit,” Luna curses as she yanks off the sweatshirt and tosses it on the floor. “Why do they have to be my parents? Why? Why? Why?” She stomps on the shirt several times before she notices me standing there. Then her cheeks heat with embarrassment. “What are you doing here?” She sounds choked up.

“Probably for the same reason you’re here.” I point at the circle of fold up chairs in the middle of the room. “For the session.”

“Oh.” She scoops up the sweatshirt from the floor. “How long have you been standing here?”

I pretend to be casual, even though I just witnessed her parents rip into her. “Not too long.”

She assesses me as she ties the shirt around her waist. “You saw them yelling at me, didn’t you?”