Besides, there was nowhere to go. Whether Chloe had noticed or not, we were back in front of her own house. Pressing my luck, I reached out and once again, took her hand. "And I want to tell you something. Fame, even as minor as mine, isn't all it's cracked up to be."
She gave me a look filled with doubt.
I tried again. "People meet me, and they think they've got something to prove. Half the world kisses my ass, and the other half wants to take me down a peg, prove they're tough or whatever."
I shook my head. "You know, a couple weeks ago, two guys jumped me outside this restaurant? Right here in Rochester Hills? Un-fucking-believable."
Chloe glanced away, but said nothing.
Damn it. That's right. The fight had been atherrestaurant, where she worked. She'd been watching, standing in the pickup bed with that guy. All this time, she'd never mentioned it – just like she'd never mentioned her job. Or who she lived with. Or the fact that she might think of me as more than a friend.
For whatever reason, Chloe was full of secrets. And from the look on her face, she wasn't going to share them any time soon. I could lead her along by telling her that I'd seen her that night. Or I could be smart and keep my mouth shut.
I hadn't always been smart. But I wasn't going to mess this up, not now. So I kept quiet, letting her respond – or not. If I were lucky, maybe she'd tell me something useful, like why she was waitressing in the first place.
I glanced around. It couldn't be for the money, not if she lived in a place like this. For some reason, I thought of Brittney. Was Brittney right? Was Chloe just another rich girl, working for kicks? Or was there more to the story, something I wasn't seeing?
Finally Chloe spoke. "Why'd they do that?" Her tone was casual, maybe too casual. "You mean just for the fun of it?"
And there it was. Another landmine. Those guys had jumped me because of Brittney and Amber, a.k.a. the two naked girls from my bedroom. Chloe would justloveto hear that.
"Bad example," I said. "Those guys, I actually knew. But most of the time, it's just some dumb-ass thinking to get a rep by taking mine down. I used to actually fight those idiots, beat 'em within an inch of their lives just so they'd leave me the fuck alone. But they never did. They just kept coming back for more. The whole thing got to be such a nuisance that I stopped doing it."
Her brow furrowed. "What do you mean stopped doing it?"
"If someone wants to fight me," I explained, "I just let 'em fight. Hit 'em when they come close, but mostly, just let them run themselves out. If it weren't so pathetic, it'd be fuckin' hilarious."
Her voice was quiet. "You swear a lot."
Embarrassment shot through me. "Oh shit." Chloe was right. I did, at least by the standards ofthisplace. And now, I'd just done it again. If my Grandma were here, she'd skin me alive. But she was dead, just like half the kids I'd grown up with.
"Sorry," I said. "I guess I'm kind of worked up." And I knew why. Chloe was slipping away. I couldn't let that happen. I tried, and failed, to keep my voice level. "I don't want to lose you."
She gave her head a small shake. "What?" Her voice softened. "But you never had me."
"I know." My voice softened, too. "And that's the problem."
She stared up at me, and her eyes filled with emotions that I couldn't make out. I held my breath, hoping that some of what I saw wasn't hatred or disgust. All I needed was a chance. Somehow, I'd make it work.
After a long moment, she spoke. "What about Bishop?"
The question caught me off guard. "What about him?"
"Is he there to stay?" Her chin lifted. "Or just passing through?"
I kept my tone neutral. "Why do you ask?"
"Just curious."
I couldn’t step around it, and I couldn’t lie. "No."
"No, what?"
"No," I said. "He's not just passing through."
Her shoulders slumped. "Oh."
"He doesn't live with me," I continued, "but when he's in town –" I shrugged, not knowing what else to say.
