Bleed Like Me by C. Desir Read Free Book Online Page A

I went by myself.
    As I stood in the line to buy my ticket to Freddy vs. Jason , Brooks slid next to me.
    I raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you stalking me?”
    He grinned. “No. But I sort of figured you’d be here.”
    I stepped forward and pulled out my money. But Brooks pushed my hand back. “You’re buying my ticket?”
    â€œYes. That’s normally what happens on dates.” He asked for two tickets and slipped a twenty out of his worn leather wallet.
    When he had our tickets and started to usher me into the lobby, I said, “Actually, normally someone asks you on a date first.”
    He grinned. “That ruins the element of surprise. Admit it, you’re excited I’m here. You don’t have to see Freddy vs. Jason alone; you have someone to cling to during the scary parts.”
    I laughed. “I don’t need anyone to cling to, thank you.”
    He hooked a finger in one of the belt loops on my jeans and dragged me toward him. “Well, maybe I do.”
    I grinned and patted his shoulder. “Okay, Brooks. I’ll protect you from the scary parts.”
    â€œOutstanding. I knew this would work out.”
    Ease and lightness bubbled inside me. I loved Brooks like this, me like this. Normal, not broken or scarred or hurting so much I would do anything to make it all go away.
    â€œThanks for coming,” I blurted out, then looked at my feet. Brooks tilted my chin up and searched my face. Please don’t ruin this. Don’t make it more. I can’t do more right now.
    â€œI’ll go buy us some snacks,” he said, and my shoulders dropped in relief. “Junior Mints okay?”
    I made a face. “Junior Mints? Really? That’s almost as lame as Good & Plenty. How about some popcorn?”
    â€œNope. Junior Mints are better.”
    â€œHow do you figure that?”
    He waggled his eyebrows. “Then we’ll have minty fresh breath. Perfect for making out in the back of the theater.”
    I shook my head. “I’m here to see the movie.”
    He pulled me close and dropped a kiss on my lips. “Junior Mints it is.”

5
    My parents forced the family to go out for breakfast at the House of Pancakes on Sunday mornings. They’d tried church for a while, but it was such a ridiculous joke with my brothers they ditched the idea. The last time Father Don had seen our family, Luis had accidentally-on-purpose knocked a cup of communion wine all over him.
    â€œSo what’d you do last night?” Dad asked, one hand holding Luis firmly in his chair. Luis wiggled and picked at his pancakes with his fingers.
    â€œSaw a movie.” Just like every Saturday night. Avoided the house. Made out with Brooks.
    â€œWhat movie?” Mom asked, cutting tiny bits of sausage and putting them in front of Alex.
    â€œMom. What’re you doing? Alex is eight. He can cut his own food.”
    A pained expression crossed her face. “Of course he can. I was trying to be helpful.”
    I stared at the ceiling and counted to ten. My parents had no clue how to deal with the boys. They babied Alex, let Miguel get away with anything, and wouldn’t let Luis breathe without telling him he was doing it wrong. But all of that was more attention than they’d given me for most of my teenage years. Hard to say which was worse.
    My focus returned to my food, but not before I saw Miguel pluck a blueberry from his plate and throw it at Alex.
    â€œLuis,” Mom said. “Don’t throw food.”
    Luis glared, but didn’t say anything. I opened my mouth to defend him and then thought better of it. Long ago I’d learned to be quiet and either hole up in my room or get out as soon as possible. I stabbed a bite of waffle and pushed it around my plate, the sticky syrup tracing a path along the edges until several fat drops dripped off the side. Luis picked up a handful of hash browns and flung them at Mom.
    Then it all