“It’s okay,” she says softly, refusing to meet my gaze.
“No, it’s not,” I insist, turning my body toward her. “I just . . . fuck.” I rub my eyes with the heels of my hands, stomach knotting. “I don’t even know where to start,” I admit, looking up at the sky.
“When I was a kid,” I begin, swallowing thickly, “I didn’t have the best home life. My mom’s a drug addict and I don’t even know who my dad is. Throughout my life I’ve bounced back and forth between my mom and foster parents because she couldn’t take care of me. And when I was with her, she ran through a bunch of boyfriends who weren’t great guys . . .” I trail off, cringing and looking down at the cigarette burns on my arms.
I glance over to see Olivia’s worried expression. “Did they hurt you?”
“Some,” I admit, unable to look her in the eyes.
“Is that how you got those?” she asks quietly, almost scared to ask.
Instinctively and self-consciously, I cross my scarred arms over my chest. “Yeah. One boyfriend used to stub his cigarettes out on me if I was acting up.”
Olivia’s eyes widen, horrified. “Bronx.” Her voice drips with shock and sympathy, making me disgusted with myself.
“It’s nothing,” I say dismissively, wanting to skirt around the subject, not accepting her pity. “What I want to explain to you is why I snapped the other day. In school, I was never the smartest kid in the room. I bounced back and forth between so many schools I could never keep up with the curriculum, and it’s not like I had help or support at home. Half the time, I never really had a home. My mom wasted all of her money on drugs so she couldn’t afford the basic necessities. At times we had to squat in abandoned places for a while.”
I steal a quick glance at Olivia, her full attention focused on me, patiently waiting for me to continue.
Suddenly, I feel nervous. No one knows this about me. No one knows about my mom, the abuse, the neglect, all the foster homes. I feel ashamed, because here she is, perfect and innocent in every way, and I feel like I’m tainting her with all mybullshit.
“Anyway, my grades suffered and kids—even the teachers—would always make fun of how far behind I was on the learning curve. They would purposefully belittle me and make me feel stupid. Everyone always said I would amount to nothing because I wasn’t smart enough, because I was rough around the edges. So when I was wrong the other day in lab, all those memories came flooding back,” I admit, ashamed.
“Oh, Bronx.” Olivia delicately places her hand on my arm, eyes wide with realization and guilt. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
I shake my head. “How could you have?”
She frowns, shoulders slumping. “Still. I never intended to make you feel that way. I thought we were just poking fun at each other.”
“We were,” I assure her. “But then Quinton jumped in, and my phone starting going off with a call from my mom. It just felt like everything was hitting me at once and a wire tripped in my head, sending me spiraling down Bad Memory Lane.” I shake my head. “I lost my cool, and I didn’t mean to take it out on you. I know it’s not an excuse, but I’m sorry.”
She nods in understanding. “Your mom called?”
I blow out a breath. “Yeah, she’s been calling me all week.”
“Why?”
“Dunno,” I admit. “I’ve been dodging her calls, because whenever she does call me it’s never a good thing.”
She presses her lips together, nodding. “Where is your mom?”
I shrug. “Off with another boyfriend.”
Her eyes grow sad, worried. “Is it the one who . . .” She trails off, looking at my arm.
I swallow, nausea swirling around in my stomach.Oh, Finch, if only you knew.
Many men have entered and exited my life. My mother was a full-blown cracked-out carousel who only cared if they had drugs and a roof to provide her. Unfortunately for me, she didn’t care about much else, and the guy who stubbed his cigarettes out on me wasn’t the worst one.
The lowest low was when she was with this guy named Benny. He lived in a shithole apartment building, but to my mother that was luxury. Only because it had a roof and he had drugs he was willing to share. For a price.
He used to hit her all the time and would take swings at me, but again, she didn’t care. Benny was absolutely ruthless, and he was the reason I started taking football seriously.
Benny and my mom used to get into it all the time whenever they were on their binges. If I came back from school and they were fighting or fucking, I would sit outside all night on the stairs until I knew they were passed out and the coast was clear. I’d learned my lesson too many times.
Sitting outside all the time, I ran into a lot of the neighbors, who seemed to be just as sleazy as Benny, but there was one girl who wasn’t like the rest of the sketchy tenants. She actually ended up saving my life. She was an angel in disguise, and I couldn’t thank her enough for the kindness she showed me.
Her name was Lexi. She was only a few years older than me at the time and lived with her mom on the floor above Benny. We became friends and she would bring me food whenever she could, because I could tell she felt sorry for me.
