A fist lands on my shoulder. This shit punches like a toddler.

My knuckles crack when they slam into Tristan's face, blood sprays from his nose, which seems to signal for his friends to swarm me.

"You're fucking dead! I'm gonna go to the back field and burn that filthy car you live in. Put you on the street where you belong."

His words hurt a hell of a lot more than his punch.

I've been reduced to trash, and these are the kids at school who get been getting a kick out of reminding me where I “belong”.

When I glance back at Tristan, the boy standing behind him who catches my attention. Beau Eaton.

School Quarterback, honor roll, basically the town prince everyone loves. Never took him for the type to join in something like thi—

"Tristan, fuck off." He gives him a shove, blocking me from the crowd. "Everyone fuck off! Show's over!" he yells, crossing his arms and glaring while the students disperse.

Shame hits me. Not only am I the weird homeless kid, I'm now the popular kid's charity case. Before I can even think, I turn and run straight for the trees that divide the schoolyard from the back field. To the old broken-down Honda I've been calling home.

"Hey! Wait up!" I hear Beau call, but I don't look back. Humiliation drives me forward, and within minutes I'm leaned up against the white hunk of metal trying to catch my breath. It's a shit place to live. But it's dry, and it's close to the hockey rink. And that's all I care about.

"Are you really living here?"

I groan. Of course, he had to follow me. "Yeah." A hush expands between us.

"Come to my house." That's what he breaks the silence with. That's what has me spinning around to look him.

“Your house?"

"Yeah." He nods.

"Lots of rooms. Lots of food."

“I-“

"I'm not taking no for an answer. Grab...Whatever you need. My brother Cade will drive us once Rhett is out of detention."

"You sure?" A small, flame of hope flickers inside of me. "What if your family doesn't want me there?"

He just scoffs. "I guarantee my family doesn't want you living here."