Monika Fox.

I’ve tried to block out the image of her holding her hands over her mouth crying in distress as the ambulance took Trey away. But I can’t.

Shit.

I don’t want to see anyone. Especially her.

It’s too bad I don’t have a choice.

Monika flinches at the sight of me and her hood falls down, revealing her perfectly heart-shaped face.

She puts her hand over her chest and sucks in a relieved breath. “Oh, it’s just you.”

Just seeing her up close… I don’t know what to say. My palms are suddenly sweaty as I stop in front of her.

“What are you doin’ here?” I ask. My voice comes out harsher than I intended, and it makes her flinch.

She wrings her fingers together. “I, um… came here, to, um, talk to you.” Her eyes, usually sparkling and alive, are bloodshot. “You weren’t at the funeral, so in case you didn’t hear the news, Trey was buried—”

“I know.” Seeing her here cuts right through me. Trey wanted a future with her, and I single-handedly fucked it up.

“Everyone has been wondering where you’ve been,” she says. “You need to come back to Fremont, Vic. Come back with me.”

“So you’re the designated bounty hunter, sent to take me back to Fremont?” I ask. “Have you told everyone where I’ve been for the past two weeks?”

“No.” She steps back, seemingly insulted. “Nobody knows you’re here.”

“Why did you come here now, then?”

“Because I care about you.” She clears her throat and pauses before adding, “A lot.”

Chapter Thirty

MONIKA

Vic looks horrible. His shirt is stained and his hair is messy. He looks like he’s slept on the streets for the past two weeks. It’s like he’s given up.

“I don’t want you to care,” he says. “Not after what I did to Trey. I’m surprised the cops haven’t been lookin’ for me to arrest me for murder.”

“You didn’t murder Trey, Vic. It was…” I want to tell him the truth, that Trey had a part in his own death, but I can’t. “It was a freak accident. And I’m not going home, not until you promise to come back to school and go back to the football team. They can’t win a game without you.”

He puts his hands over his ears. “I don’t want to talk about school or Trey or football.”

“Why not?”

He shrugs.

I put my hands on my hips, trying to look assertive. “You can’t hide out here your entire life and ignore everyone who cares about you.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s stupid.” I focus on my shoe, because I can’t look up when I add, “Trey would never let you do that.”

“Yeah, well Trey’s gone, Monika. And you should know by now that I am stupid.” He walks to the auto body and unlocks the door, silently declaring our conversation over.

I know Vic’s dad is hard on him. He’s never been made to feel important or worthy of attention, unless it’s negative or unless it’s in public and staged. I know that’s part of why he’s so closed off, but I won’t let that plus the stress of losing Trey bring him down.

I rush up to him. “There are always other options. You can’t just give up on school and football.”

“Yes I can,” he says. “I don’t want you to care about me.”

“Well, you’ll just have to deal with it because I do care about you, Vic.” I reach out and gently touch his hand, but as soon as my fingers glide over his I hear him suck in a breath. He snatches his hand away.

“Go back to Fremont, Monika,” he says.

“I’m here to help you. Don’t block me out.” Tears start forming in my eyes. Nobody knows how much I’m hurting inside. Vic doesn’t know the truth about what really happened on the field. If Mr. and Mrs. Matthews decide to keep that information private, he might never know.

He holds out his hands in frustration. “Go home. I don’t want you here.”

I need to stand my ground. “I’ll only go home if you agree to come back to school.”

“Fine,” he says.

A part of me relaxes. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he says. “If you leave right now, I’ll go back to school on Monday. I’d suggest you take me up on the offer, because if you don’t I’ll haul your ass over my shoulder and make you leave. You won’t have a choice. And just so you know, if you scream in this hood, nobody gives a shit.”