Practice starts Wednesday and when coach asks how my calf is, I tell him it's getting better. My ribs are only a little purple now and the bruises on my face have faded away to that sickly green-yellow color. Coach tells me to sit out until Friday and then I'm supposed to rejoin the practices. Fine by me. I have homework to do anyway.

I could go home and leave them practicing but I sit on the bleachers, pouring over my Algebra II homework and nearly having a breakdown. How the hell is this supposed to make sense to anybody? I'd take a thousand of Lancer's papers over a page of this shit.

"Twelve," someone says from above me and I turn on the bleacher to squint up at them. It's hard to make out who it is from the sun beaming behind them but I have a feeling from the faded red Converse and the nervous way he shifts from foot to foot that it's Fenton.

"Huh?" I ask and he hesitates a second before sinking down on the bleacher directly behind me. I turn further to see him and finally get a good look at his face. He's biting his bottom lip in concentration as he stares down at the Algebra book open on my lap.

Danny nods toward it. "For number three. X equals twelve," he says, shrugging when I look up at him. "I've been in AP math for the past year. It comes easy to me."

I grunt. "That makes one of us." I shift my gaze back to the stupid homework and scribble down his answer. My eyes take in the fourth problem but my brain has checked out. "I don't suppose you'd give me the answers to all of them, would you?"

When I glance back up at him he's smiling softly but he shakes his head. "No."

"Worth a shot," I respond, returning to the mind-numbing process of math. Give me a car and I'll tell you what's wrong with it. Hand me a football and I'll show you how far I can throw it and tell you which one of my teammates is going to catch it. But math and I have never gotten along.

Danny makes a soft noise and I look up at him, frowning. "Don't tell me that I've done the other shit wrong too or I'll just drop out now."

"No, that's not it," Danny says, laughing softly. He wobbles a bit when he stands but he takes a step down to the bleacher I'm sitting on and sits beside me. "I can help you with your algebra if you want me to. I can't give you the answers but I can make it a little easier to understand," he offers, darting a look back up to me.

"Really? You don't think I'm hopeless?" I ask, crossing my arms when he snags my workbook from my lap. He runs a finger down the page, tracing my scribbled answers. His index finger runs over the indention several times before he looks at me.

"You're not hopeless," he says, holding my stare. There's something in his eyes that looks like he's not talking about just math anymore. That maybe he's trying to reassure me or some shit. I don't need anyone's fucking sympathy.

"Yeah, well you haven't seen the rest of my work," I say, grabbing my book from him. He lets me take it and I can feel him watching me but I don't let him try to give me some kind of compliment. I don't need to hear that shit. "Trust me, it sucks a lot more than you think."

I flip the book closed and cram it into my backpack again, watching the sides bulge out as I do. Danny's watching me as I hitch my backpack up onto my shoulder and I look down at him when I stand. "I'm working tomorrow after school so bring your car by at some point."

Danny nods slowly, standing up from the bleachers. He follows me off the field and we kind of fall into walking next to each other. I'm too exhausted to walk any faster to ditch him and besides, he's not awful company.

"Okay," he finally says as we round the school building and I look at him. He holds my gaze for a second before dropping his to the ground. "I'll bring it by around five then? M-Maybe a little earlier."

I glance back at the field before looking his way again. "I'm not sticking around for practice after school so you have a window as soon as school's over. We usually get the most customers on Thursdays so you want to get there early enough to secure a spot."

"O-Okay," he stammers, coming to a stop. I guess we reached his car, because he's staring out into the parking lot, but when I look where he is, I see what's caused him to stop. I've never groaned out of frustration when I saw Paulina leaning against my car but I guess there's a first time for everything.

"Yeah, just bring it by whenever," I tell Danny, looking back at him. I think about giving him a smile but there's nothing really to smile about. "I'll see ya."

I move across the parking lot quickly and stop just short of my Mitsubishi, folding my arms over my chest. Paulina looks up from her phone and takes her weight off my car. "Dash," she breathes and my name on her lips reminds me of panting breaths and staggered moans amidst tangled sheets and pounding hearts.

"What?" I ask, distracting myself from the sound of her breathy inhale. If I pop a boner here in the open air, there'll be no denying what she's still able to do to me.

Paulina steps closer to me and slides her phone into her back pocket. I curse myself for the way my eyes trace the outline in her pocket I can just make out by looking over her shoulder. Her shorts hug her ass in the perfect way and I want to put my hands where her phone is.

"Dash, I'm sorry," she breathes, spreading her hands across my chest. She stands on her toes and gingerly places kisses along my healing bruises. I want her. I want this to go back to the way that it was. But I know she meant every fucking word she said to me on Saturday.

Her hands tangle in my hair and my backpack slides from my shoulders. It falls onto the pavement and then my arms are around her. My lips on hers. Her fingernails scrape my scalp and our tongues mingle together. I forget why I don't want this. I just let myself forget everything.


We're barely inside her house before our shirts are off and I'm kissing the curve of her breasts. She moans at my every touch and I drag my mouth down her abdomen, lingering on her piercing just above her waistband. Fuck. I remember when she got this ring. I was with her. Held her hand and gently placed kisses around her belly-button for weeks after.

Her hands tangle in my hair again and she drags my face back up to hers, kissing me hard. My eyes close and I kiss her back, our moans no longer escaping into the open air.

She'd pulled us onto the couch when we stumbled inside and I'm surprised she didn't make me wait until we got into her bedroom. She must not be expecting her parents home for a while. Still, the last time we did it on a couch was at the summer home.

I snake a hand down her stomach, slipping it into her waistband. She moans at the touch and I feel the lace of her panties underneath my fingers. I trace the inside of her thigh with one finger and she turns her head.

A strangled noise leaves her and she pulls my hand from her pants. I flick my gaze up to hers for a second but follow her line of sight. Her dad's on the back porch with someone else, both clutching beers. Their backs are to us but her dad's hand is closed around the doorknob. Paulina hastily climbs off the couch, and pulls her top on with shaky fingers. She flings mine toward me and I just manage to pull it on before the back door opens.

Her dad wanders into the living room, glancing between us with a smile. "Oh, hey Dash," he says, nodding toward me. "How's your dad?"

Our parents used to hang out and sometimes her dad and mine still get together but it's been a while. Dad's been busy with work lately and I guess he hasn't had time to check in with anyone.

I shrug. "He's fine, Mr. Sanchez," I tell him, darting a glance toward Paulina. So much for a quickie after school. I subtly drop my hands into my lap to cover the tent I'm sporting in my jeans. Thank god it's denim and not my practice shorts or anything.

"That's good, I'm glad to hear it," he says with a grin. He crosses over to Paulina, kissing her on the head before pulling her into a one-armed hug. "How was school, sweetie?"

She smiles up at him, innocence shining in her eyes and I avert my eyes away from the two of them. Paulina stands on her tiptoes to kiss her dad's cheek. "Good. I got a B on my history test," she says, beaming up at him when he smiles.

Paulina's always had this weird thing about pleasing her old man. It's been there since before we started dating and it used to cause problems between us. Back when he thought I wasn't good enough for his daughter. He's not wrong but fuck if I'm going to tell him that.

I ease myself up from the couch, chancing a look at them before I speak. "I should really get going. It was nice seeing you again, sir. I'll tell my dad to give you a call."

Mr. Sanchez nods at me with a smile and Paulina hesitates a second before leaving her dad's embrace. "I'll walk you out," she tells me, a flush creeping across her face. I wonder if now that we're not touching, she's regretting what we were doing. I wonder if she's thinking clearly now.

The slight wind in the air stirs up feelings of autumn in my soul and I turn toward Paulina when I'm halfway down the driveway. Now that we're not touching, I'm thinking clearly. I want to hurt her the way she hurt me. I want to make her wonder what she did wrong.

"So… raincheck on this?" she asks, coyly biting her lip and dragging me right back in. I can't be the one to end things. I never am. Cause as awful as this is and as much as I know I don't have to put up with this back and forth shit, she's the best I'm ever going to get. I don't fucking deserve her and every time she gives me the time of day it makes hope spring awake in my chest. Makes me think that maybe this could work. Maybe this time, I could become the kind of person that deserves someone like her.

"Yeah, raincheck."


Dad's car is in the driveway when I pull up and the sight throws me for a loop. He's at the kitchen table when I walk in, a can of beer open. The sight of the can makes the knots in my stomach tense up again and I try to keep from staring at it. He looks up when the door opens and gives me a smile.

My legs are shaky but I walk into the kitchen, dropping my backpack into one of the kitchen chairs before sinking down into the seat next to it. Dad leans forward and squeezes my shoulder. "How are you?"

I run my fingers through my hair, trying to remember when I stopped trusting dad with the mundane stuff of my life. When he asks, I'm fine. School's fine. Work's fine. Paulina's fine. Everything's fine. I don't know when 'fine' and 'fucked up' became the same thing but it works.

"Fine," I tell him, blowing out a pent up breath. If Paulina's dad hadn't been home, I'd still be tangled in between her legs, forgetting about everything else. Not sitting beside my dad, wondering if I should have bolted upstairs as soon as I came in.

Dad keeps his hand on my shoulder and squeezes again, smiling at me when I look at him. "Whatever it is, I hope it works out for you, son." He's being too kind. Something's off. I feel it in the way the hair on the back of my neck stands up.

I slowly turn to look back at the couch but I can't tell if mom's letter is still under there. I don't know if he's found it and is waiting for me to say something about it. I slowly release a breath and look back to him with a nod.

"First game's next Friday," I tell him, some part of myself hoping that he shows up. He was in the crowd during two of my games in my sophomore year but he didn't come to a single one during junior year. Otherwise known as 'the worst fucking six months of my life'.

Dad's smile stays intact as his hand slips from my shoulder. "I'll see if I can get the night off then. Leave a note for me on the fridge so I don't forget."

My head is swimming. He's… actually going to come? Today's been fucking weird. Fenton offering to help me with my Algebra homework and actually meaning it. Then Paulina shows up with words of sorry. Now dad's smiling at me and saying he's gonna come to my game and I'm… I'm fucking staring at him.

I snap my teeth together and nod. I'm not sure of where to go from here and dad turns back to the crossword puzzle. It feels weird to just get up and leave so I reach over for my backpack and dig out my history book. Might as well read over the assigned twelve fucking pages before I escape to my room.


I'm pulling into a parking space in front of Alex's garage as my phone vibrates in my pocket. I ignore it for a second and aim the rearview mirror to my face. The bruises are mostly gone but two are still hanging on. One along my jawline and the other on my temple. They're still that sickly green color and I really hope Alex doesn't notice.

My phone buzzes again and I pull the thing from my pocket before killing the engine. The shop already has a couple cars lined up which means there's no way I'll get turned down again. Not even Alex can turn me down on a Thursday.

From: Paulina

Hey you! Come by my place after practice is finished? We can pick up where we left off the other day~ xoxo

Something in me stirs at her words. It's most likely my dick. I drum my fingers on the sides of my phone before unbuckling my seatbelt and opening my door. I stand in front of my car, tapping out a response before I slam my door closed and start up into the shop, pocketing my phone as I go.

To: Paulina

I'm working today, not doing practice. How late is too late to come over?

If I end up spending the night at her place instead of going home, fine by me. I won't even need to tell anyone. No one's gonna be sitting up for me at home.

Alex looks up when I walk in and does a double take. Guess the bruises are more obvious than I thought. He instantly moves from behind the car he's working on and I pause where I'm at, knowing he'll find me no matter where I disappear into the shop at.

He reaches me and I take a few steps forward, putting a Kia Soul in between us. Alex stops on the other side, probably knowing that I'll keep distance between us no matter how hard he tries to bridge it.

"Hey," he says softly and I don't know what the hell to say in response.

I scratch at the back of my head and for once, decide not to avoid the obvious. I gesture to my face with one hand. "S'not as bad as it looks," I say, biting down on the inside of my jaw. I want to tell him the same story I told the nurse on Monday but I don't like lying to Alex. Fuck that, I hate lying to Alex.

His eyes wander around the shop before focusing on me, his voice dropping a little. "Does it still hurt?" he asks softly, nothing but concern in his features. It kills me how much he worries about me. He's got his own life. He doesn't need to spend it worrying about some fucked up kid.

"No," I tell him and it's mostly true. My face quit hurting yesterday but my ribs are still a little tender. Green in most areas but there's a few purple spots still littered across them. I shove my hands into the pockets of my uniform, feeling my phone vibrate with a new text.

Alex watches me carefully as he crosses in front of the car. He stops just shy of clearing the car and he lets a breath out. "Dash… is your father-"

"I'm fine." I have to stop him before he gets going. Before he starts talking about deserving more or reaching for anything else. I'm fine. I have to be. This doesn't work if I'm not alright. Or if I can't fake it that well. This garage is the only distraction I have and I don't even need it today. Things are good. They're really fucking good and I don't want to mess it up.

Alex looks like he wants to say more so I close the distance between us, squeezing his shoulder. My face breaks into a grin and I wonder if it reaches my eyes. I wonder if he can tell when I'm faking and when I'm not. Kwan always could, even before he knew this shit about my dad. I wonder if Alex can tell even though he doesn't know about my dad. At least, not for sure anyway.

"Seriously, I'm alright. Things are good right now." I nod toward the shop. "Now tell me which one of these beauties is mine for the next hour."


A/N: Hey readers! Thanks for reading this chapter and reading this story in general. Your reviews and messages are extremely motivating. Like... I can't even explain how much it helps to be able to read through your thoughts on the story so far when I'm writing. So seriously, thank you.

Poor Dash just can't turn Paulina down, can he? But, Danny's in the picture now - maybe that might change ;) Also, here we can kinda see how Dash isn't used to his dad being kind to him for no reason. The poor boy doesn't know anything about the cycle of abuse so he's kind of lost to his own theories.

Again, thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think!