Second Chance In Stonecreek. Michelle Major

       Chapter Four

      “How could you do it?” Morgan demanded, slamming her hand against Cole’s open locker. The metal banged shut and he pulled off his wireless headphones to stare at her.

      “I didn’t do anything,” he said flatly.

      “You ratted me out to my sister.” She’d been trying to track down Cole since Maggie and their dad had laid into her on Monday night, but she knew he wouldn’t respond to her texts and he hadn’t been at school yesterday.

      He shrugged. “I talked to her. It’s not a crime.”

      Even though a full day had passed, she was as angry as she’d been when first confronted about sneaking out. “I was already grounded. Now I have to go to her stupid office after school.”

      His gray eyes flashed with anger. “You might have been grounded, but that didn’t mean you were staying home.”

      “How would you know?” she demanded. “You’ve dumped all your friends this year.”

      “They’re not my friends.” He stepped closer, looming over her like he was trying to be intimidating. “They aren’t yours, either.”

      “My life,” she snapped, “is none of your business. You made it very clear you have no interest in me.”

      “I never said that,” he whispered and unexpectedly reached out a finger to trace the seam of her ruby-red lips. “You’re prettier without all the war paint.”

      She glared at him. “It’s makeup,” she said through clenched teeth. “Way to insult me.”

      One side of his mouth pulled up in the closest thing to a smile she’d seen on his face in months. “I meant it as a compliment.”

      “Oh.” Morgan dabbed at the corners of her eyes, embarrassed and angry that tears pricked the backs of them. She glanced down at her fingertips, which came away black from the heavy eyeliner she’d taken to wearing because it bothered her grandmother so much.

      “I was trying to do you a favor by talking to your sister,” Cole said, his tone low and rumbly. Unlike a lot of boys in her class, his voice had changed completely, deepening so that he sounded like a man. He acted more mature than most guys she knew, too, even though the trouble he’d caused with his teenage antics before moving to Stonecreek was still plastered all over social media.

      He’d told her—told everyone—that he’d changed. Maybe it was true. No one really saw him other than when he was at school. Morgan knew his home life was awful and he spent most of his free time out at Harvest Vineyards, working for Griffin.

      “I got in more trouble,” she said, jutting out her chin. She wasn’t quite willing to forgive him so easily.

      “Not as much trouble as you’re going to find if you don’t drop the losers.”

      She gritted her teeth, unable to muster a decent comeback. The friends she hung out with now were the school’s wild kids, more interested in ditching class and smoking pot under the bleachers than any kind of learning. Morgan didn’t do drugs. She hadn’t yet anyway, and although she always accepted a cup of whatever drink they were passing around, she mostly pretended to down it.

      “I’m in with them now,” she whispered. She’d worked so hard to rebel. The thought almost made her laugh. What kind of poser had to make a concerted effort to do the wrong thing? But it was easier to embrace the role of family miscreant. Compared to perfect Maggie and easygoing Ben, she was the oddball out. At least that was how she felt after her mom died eleven years ago.

      Her throat stung as she grasped for memories of her kind, gentle mother. Mom had always loved Morgan just the way she was. Unlike Grammy. And who knew who Dad wanted her to be? He was so preoccupied with his studio that it was a wonder he even remembered her name.

      She’d tried to follow in Maggie’s footsteps—but the straight and narrow had never been a great fit for Morgan. She hadn’t felt like she belonged anywhere until she’d started running with the wild kids last year. Ripped clothes, a constant sneer and the right kind of makeup, and she was set.