So fucking lame.
“Yeah. She knows it’s one of my best classes so maybe she wanted some tutoring or something.”
“We graduate in two weeks,” he reminds me suspiciously.
“Yeah, well... maybe she wants to go to college? I don’t know. I didn’t interrogate her for asking, Dalton.”
He nods, relenting.
Or maybe he’s just accepting my bullshit answer.
Either way, he’s a lot smarter than he thinks I give him credit for and I doubt he’s going to let this go any time soon.
“Hey, so how do you think things went at home today?” I ask, diverting him toward the one thing I know will keep him busy talking.
He shrugs uncomfortably. “I just wish I’d had the chance to introduce them to each other before we left.”
I nod.
That’s one of the biggest problems we have with Hailey. She refuses to talk to anyone anymore, and while we’re used to it, strangers aren’t.
It’s the biggest reason why I hate having them come into our home to care for her. Especially when she should be able to do it her own damn self.
“We’ll find out soon enough,” I state cheerfully as I loop an arm through his. Dalton gives me an odd look because he’s not used to me being affectionate, but I also kind of feel bad about steering the conversation toward Hailey just to stop the questions about Missy Homecoming-Bitch.
“Race you home,” I suddenly shout as I let go of his arm and take off like a shot.
The least I can do is give him a genuinely happy moment. before we have to walk back into Hell and face the consequences of what we left behind this morning.