Kylee stuffed the torn cloth into the trashcan and shook her head. Her hands trembled, and she took several deep breaths to steady herself.

“I must’ve dreamed it,” she whispered. That was the only explanation. Shaking it off, she pulled Price’s shirt on over her head.

Price opened the door and poked his head in. Kylee gasped and clutched her midsection, even though she’d already gotten her shirt on.

“Price! What if I was still changing?”

He had the grace to blush. “Sorry. You were taking so long, I started to worry,” he whispered.

Kylee stepped out. She looked at him, surprised he had waited. He gestured and led her back to his room. She settled herself on his bed, feet dangling a few inches from the floor. He gathered up an armful of clothes, choosing a pair of shorts from a pile by the computer desk and a shirt sitting on top of a stack of books. Kylee couldn’t tell if this was what he planned to wear or if he was cleaning up.

“Stay in here, okay?” he said, pausing with his hand on the bedroom doorknob.

“Sure,” Kylee said. She got up and went to the computer desk. She sat in the chair with netted backing in front of his computer and pulled on one of his textbooks. It didn’t budge. She touched the spines of the thick, heavy books on top of it. “I won’t go anywhere.”

“Yeah.” He cast her another searching look, as if everything she said was in code and he wanted to decipher what she meant. Then he left the room.

As soon as the door closed, Kylee hopped to her feet. This was her chance to find out who Price was. She’d expected his room to be more extravagant, judging from the rest of the house. But it was about the same shape and size as her own. He had a standard sliding closet door that looked like it remained perpetually open. Posters of different athletes decorated the walls, and a shelf held various trophies. Kylee stood on her tiptoes and examined them. Baseball, soccer, basketball. Looked like he played everything. Several of them had years from tournaments and championship games imprinted on them.

The door creaked open, and Kylee ducked, ready to hide behind the bed if necessary. Price came in, wearing his navy blue swimming trunks and a white t-shirt. Kylee glanced down at what she wore. Blue shorts and a white shirt. They looked identical.

“Hey,” he said, tossing a pile of clothes on the bed. “My dad’s up.” He hesitated. “Do you need any breakfast? We’ve got yogurt, Poptarts.”

Kylee’s stomach growled in response, but she shook her head. She didn’t want to eat in front of him. “No, I’m good.”

“You won’t get hungry?”

“Your dad might get suspicious if I join you for breakfast.”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“Okay. Right.” He nodded. “Listen, I have to do some chores, and then we’ll leave. You can just chill here for a bit. ”

“Oh, okay.” Kylee wrapped her arms around her knees, wondering what she’d do alone in his room.

“Will you be all right by yourself?”

“Sure.”

“I mean, you won’t go back, will you?”

Kylee thought of her mom and Bill. Maybe they’d already noticed she was gone. She shook her head. “It’s best if I stay away.”

“All right, then, sit tight. I’ll be back. I promise.”

Kylee scanned the books on his bookshelf and glanced through the clothes in his closet. She thought about picking up the piles on the floor, but she had no idea what was dirty and what wasn’t. Besides, that felt a little too intrusive.

After about ten minutes, she’d run out of things to do. So she lay down on Price’s bed. She breathed in his scent, a mixture of sweat and something musky and the freshness of deodorant. He smelled like a boy should.

“Kylee.”

The bed vibrated, and she opened her eyes to see Price standing above her. He had that odd look on his face again.

“Oh.” She got off his bed, embarrassed. “Hi.” She rubbed her face, certain she must look awful. She hadn’t heard him come in; she must’ve fallen asleep. “So you play sports?” she asked, trying to change the subject.

“What?” His brow furrowed.

“All the trophies?” She gestured to the shelf behind her.

“I used to play,” he said, a bit gruffly. “Before we moved here.”

Then his life had changed with the move, and not just the house or his friends. “Your dad won’t let you play now?” she asked, trying to get a feel for the reason behind the change.

“I don’t want to.” Price picked up a red sack with pull-strings. He pulled it closed and slung his arm through it, an agitated expression on his face. “Let’s get out of here.”

“What will you say to your dad when I come down the stairs?”

“I won’t say a word.”

“He’s not gonna ask questions?”

“If I act normal, he will too.”

“He’s okay with you having girls over?” She remembered her suspicion the night before that this must’ve happened previously. Maybe she wasn’t wrong.

“No, it’s just . . . don’t worry about it. It’ll be fine.”

She pictured Price and his sister the way she saw them every Sunday, all dressed up for church. Good church boys didn’t have girls over all night. She was certain of that. “What church do you go to?”

“The old stone one a few miles away. My dad likes small, close-knit places. Wait.” One corner of his mouth lifted. “How did you know I go to church?”

Because I spend my spare time spying out the window at you. Kylee felt as though the words were engraved across her forehead, and she could only lift her shoulders. “Everyone goes to church?”

“Do you?”

She shook her head. “Everyone but me.”

His eyes probed hers. Kylee looked down, feeling the heat creep up the back of her neck and into her ears.

“Why do you look at me like that?” she said.

“Like what?”

“Like that.” She gestured at his face.

Price picked a piece of trash from the carpet and tossed it into the wastebasket. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He turned and left the room.

Was she supposed to follow? They were leaving now, right? Hesitantly, she went after him. Price strode ahead of her, his gait like someone trying to leave something behind. A nagging sibling, an annoying classmate, or an unwanted neighbor. Her earlier confidence faded.

“I didn’t mean to upset you—” she began.

Price turned around, pressing a finger to his lips. Kylee froze mid-step to keep from walking into him.

“Listen, you didn’t upset me. Let’s just be quiet until we get to the beach.” Without another word, he started down the stairs.

“Okayyyy,” Kylee murmured, trying not to let his behavior concern her too much.

He was a boy, after all. From what she understood of her stepfather, they tended to be moody.

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