The sound of footsteps thud nearer. She sits up and moves in front of me—like she's ready to protect me. She doesn't need to protect me. I'm here to protect her.

"KATHY!" her dad yells. "Kathy!" Quieter this time. And then a loud thump; like a body crashing to the floor. She flinches again. I hold her face and get her to look at me. "It's okay," I whisper. And then I kiss her. Because I don't know what else to do, and I don't know how to make things better. So I distract her from what's happening outside that door. I distract her from what's happening in her life. I distract her from her reality.

When minutes pass with no further sounds, I pull back. "Ready?"

She kisses me once more and nods.

We stand up and I make sure she's behind me when I open the door and peek out.

He's laying on his side, passed out on the kitchen floor, a smashed bottle of whiskey near his feet. She moves around, walks over to him and gets on her knees in front of him. "Daddy," she whispers, shaking him roughly. "Daddy!"

He rolls onto his back and grunts in response. Her gaze quickly flicks to me before she lifts his arm and settles it around her shoulders.

That small look was all I needed to know that whatever fleeting moment we shared before he came down is over, and that the walls that surrounded her have slammed right back down.

"Come on, Daddy. Let's get you to bed." Her tone's flat. Not sincere. Not sympathetic. She struggles to help him stand. Only now do I realize how huge he is. At least six-five. Built like a Mack truck. I don't know how she's holding him up. She's barely five foot, weighs the equivalent of his right leg. I step forward, an offer to help, but she shakes her head to stop me.

"Where's Kathy?" he says groggily. She doesn't answer; just keeps struggling to lead him out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

I sweep up the broken glass off the floor and bag at least ten bottles of alcohol. When I come back in through the back door after throwing them out, she's walking into the kitchen. She smiles sadly when she sees me—that wall still in place. "I think your mom's here."

I'd completely forgotten that she was picking me up. "Are you gonna be okay?"

She leads me to her front door, never once looking at me. "I'm fine."

I step to her and take her hands—my eyes searching hers. "Are you though?"

"You can't say anything to anyone, Cameron. I mean it," she snaps.

"I wouldn't, Luce."

"I'm serious." She yanks her hands away. "People will start to worry. They'll send people to check on us and they'll separate us. I'll lose my brothers. And you—you were never supposed to see any of that." She opens the front door for me.

Mom's headlights blind me for a moment. She must see my reaction because she switches them off.

"I'll come by early tomorrow, okay?"

She shakes her head. "No, Cameron. Not tomorrow."

I rear back in surprise, my brows bunching as I search her face for a reason. "Why?"

"I just need time with my family. Alone."

I don't know what to say, so I stay silent.

She flinches when I touch her hand, but it doesn't stop me from gripping it and pulling her into me. "I wish I could help. I wish I could fix things." I kiss the top of her head.

"LUCY!" her dad shouts, his voice causing my blood to boil.

She looks up at me now, her eyes stone cold. "I hate him," she whispers before breaking away and going back into her house.

CHAPTER FOUR

-CAMERON-

Yesterday was the first day since I started going to her house that I didn't see her. It took everything I had to not call her, or to not just get on my bike and ride to her house. I got to school early, hoping that I'd catch her before class, but I never saw her at her locker. My eyes kept wandering, looking for her everywhere. By the time lunch rolled around, I began to panic. But when I saw her sitting alone, against a wall of the building opposite the cafeteria, where I currently stood, the panic was replaced with something else. Nerves. Excitement. Anticipation. "I'm out." I pat Jake on the shoulder and squeeze past the people waiting in the food line.

My palms are already sweaty by the time I get to her. I stand over her, but she doesn't see me, her eyes too fixed on the e-reader in her hand. It makes me chuckle, remembering the first time I truly noticed her. "Hey," I say, trying to get her attention.

She doesn't budge.

I softly kick her shoe with mine.

She finally lifts her head. Her eyes widen when she sees that it's me, and slowly, but surely, her lips begin to spread into a smile.

"Can I sit?"

She nods, her smile getting wider.

"Am I interrupting your reading?"

She leans forward, looks back down at her e-reader and shakes her head.

I sit next to her and stretch my arm behind her, wanting to be closer... remembering how she felt in my arms. I've thought about it a lot, but I've also thought about what happened afterwards—the shit with her dad and how she acted because of it. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

And something tells me that 'I'm fine' is her go-to line. Her go-to lie.

I raise my hand and tilt her chin with my finger so I can actually see her face.

Her cheeks burn red and I fake a confidence that doesn't exist. Leaning in slowly, I place my lips on hers. She smiles against them, but pulls away quickly, eyeing our surroundings.

I push back the slight feeling of rejection and move on. "What are you reading?"

"Nothing."

"You can't be reading nothing. What is it?"

"It's just about a boy and girl falling in love."

"Yeah? Is the guy a stud? Is his name Cameron?"

She laughs, the sound so powerful it drowns out all other sounds. "No."

"Read me some."

"No."

"Come on. I wanna know what this kid does that makes you so drawn to the story."

"No," she says again. "I'm not reading to you. That's weird."

"Fine." I lean in so I can read over her shoulder.

We're close. Too close. My nose grazes her cheek, and my lips follow. I kiss her cheek; the warmth from her blush heats my lips. She's frozen, like she was on Saturday night, and I love that I have that effect on her. My lips brush down her cheek and into the crook of her neck, where I kiss her again.

She jerks back quickly.

And I can't ignore the rejection the second time. "You not into public kissing?"

"No," she says. "It's not that..." Her nose scrunches. "I mean, I don't know if I am. It's just that I don't really know what this is yet... you and me. I think I just need some time to figure it out. And you know me... you know my life... you see how things are for me. I don't know if I can—"

"Okay," I cut in. "Take your time. Decide what you want. But just so you know—none of that means anything to me—your life, I mean. It doesn't change the fact that I want you." I pause, replaying the words in my head. I just told her I wanted her. I should feel embarrassed, or at least awkward, but I don't. "I'll wait for you, Luce, until you're ready. Just tell me now, so I don't sit around getting my hopes up... do you think that maybe someday you'll want me, too?"