Chapter 16
Shane knew something was up when Dad texted him at lunchtime. PICKING U UP FROM SCHOOL. It wasn’t a request, and it wasn’t a question. It was a statement—and Dad never picked him up right after school. From it or otherwise.
“Did you swear at him again?” Luke asked on their way to the dance studio, and Shane cracked a tired smile. It pulled a little too hard at the edges, like he hadn’t smiled properly in a while, and when they turned into the empty corridor that ran from the west wing of the school into the studio, Luke’s fingers slid between his and squeezed.
“No,” Shane said, squeezing back. “He probably wants to talk about plans again. He offered to let me paint my new room the other day.”
“…I guess he’s trying?” Luke attempted, then made a frustrated sound. “I hate this.
