Kyland

I sniffled and wiped at my cheeks as I pulled back. "Just some guy," I whispered.

"A guy at Al's?"

I nodded. "I wouldn't get in his car and he didn't like that."

He didn't say anything, his jaw tense, his gaze focused somewhere beyond me.

"Did you get his name?"

I shook my head. "It doesn't matter, Ky. Jamie Kearney knocked him out and then drove me home. He said he'd make sure that guy didn't bother me again . . ." I trailed off. I had no idea what Jamie planned to do, if anything.

Kyland didn't speak for several beats. Finally, he nodded. "That's good." He looked down at me and smoothed a piece of hair behind my ear. "I'm so sorry I can't do anything. I'm sorry I'm so useless," he said, his voice gruff, tortured.

I hesitated at the tone, my one good eye widening. "You're not useless, Kyland. Don't ever say that."

He gazed down at me, a look that was raw and pained on his face. "Go inside and put some ice on your eye," he said. "Do you have any Tylenol or anything?"

I nodded. "I thought maybe I could come to your house?" I said hopefully, wanting nothing more than for him to hold me.

"That's not a good idea," he said, his words short. "We can't do that anymore."

"Why?" I asked, my voice cracking as hurt speared through me.

"Because I sold my bed. I'm sleeping on the floor."

Oh.

"That's okay. I'll sleep on the floor with you," I said.

I need you, Ky.

He shook his head, his jaw hard again. "No. You won't sleep on the damn floor, Tenleigh." At the look of hurt on my face, his expression gentled and he let out a long, controlled breath. "No, you won't sleep on the floor. Go inside your trailer and get in bed. I'll check on you in the morning, okay?"

I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to beg him to stay with me, take me with him, something. I pictured my mother in that auditorium screaming at Edward and I looked down at my feet, a sudden understanding of some of the deep pain she must carry inside her damaged brain. "I saw you earlier with Shelly," I said. "I waited for you to walk me home, but you were with her." I couldn't hide the accusation in my voice. Was I expecting too much?

He regarded me silently for a few beats. "Sorry, Ten, she just wanted to show me the car her brother fixed up for her. It was nothing."

My eyes moved over his features for a minute. I didn't feel better. "Okay," I said. "I love you."

He squeezed his eyes shut. "I love you, too. Go inside. I want to hear the door lock behind you."

I turned and walked on wooden legs to the door of my trailer, unlocking it, and opening the door. I glanced behind me before I stepped inside. Kyland was standing just a little distance away, still and watching me. He nodded and I hesitated, feeling something like fear at the resolute expression on his face. I didn't know what it meant exactly, but I sensed it wasn't good.

I closed the door behind me and locked it, sinking down on the couch. I put my face in my hands and sobbed.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Tenleigh

Kyland did come to check on me the next morning, but his demeanor was distant, distracted, almost cold, and it did nothing to comfort me. I was desperately hurt. The pain in my body was the least of my aches.

Marlo had come home a couple hours after me and she must have noticed my bruised face because she'd woken me from sleep and demanded I tell her what happened. I cried in her arms just like she'd cried in mine after being dumped at the bottom of the hill by the man who'd taken her virginity and discarded her.

Physically, the boy who had taken my virginity hadn't hurt me, and I wasn't crying for the pain in my face anyway. I was crying for the pain in my heart.

The minutes ticked by that weekend. I stayed holed up in my trailer, jumping at every sound, hoping against hope it was Kyland. But after that first morning, he didn't come back, and I didn't go to him. He had made his choice clear, and although we'd gotten closer physically, for him it hadn't changed his resolve. In his mind, he'd already left. Somehow I understood that. And it broke my heart.

The following week and through the next weekend, I didn't see him at all. I went to his house a couple times, but he wasn't home—or he wasn't answering his door.

They'd be announcing the winner of the scholarship on Monday. I tried to feel something about that, but I couldn't. I knew what was going to happen, it was a foregone conclusion—Kyland would win it. I had purposely bombed my finals. I knew it was between him and me. And I knew he needed it more than I did. I understood why now. And I loved him. And other than my virginity, it was all I had to give. And I understood now that whether he deserved it or not, I would lay everything I had at his feet. I felt desperate and crazy, half out of my head with the fear of losing him forever. Grief pounded in my chest.

On Monday morning, as I walked down the road toward school, I was surprised to see Kyland waiting for me in front of his house. Despite all the hurt of the past week, the smile in my heart at seeing him made its way instantly to my face. "Hi," I said.

He smiled at me, too. "Hi. Your eye looks a lot better." But his eyes lingered on my bruise, still slightly yellow, and something determined came into his expression.

I nodded. "It doesn't even hurt anymore." He looked at me as if he wondered if I was lying, but he didn't say it.