Read Online Deer in Headlights (Hearts and Arrows 1) (Good god series) by Staci Hart - Free Book Online Page A

took his bowl to the fridge, setting it on the shelf while he opened the milk, but as soon as he took the lid off, he knew it was bad.
    Dean sighed and emptied the milk out in the sink, then sat down at the table to eat his cereal plain, not able to hear anything past the crunching. He jumped when the door opened, and his mother almost fell into the room, giggling.
    Her black hair fell down her back, her green eyes ringed with shadows, and the man behind her grabbed her arm to stop her from falling.
    “Whoa there, Susie. I think you’ve had too much to drink. We should get you to bed.” He smiled down at her and nuzzled his face in her neck. She giggled again and squirmed against him.
    When he pulled away, he noticed Dean for the first time, and his smile fell off his face and onto the floor.
    “Uh, who’s this?”
    She glanced at Dean and rolled her eyes. “That’s just my kid. Don’t mind him, he’s on his way to school in a bit. Aren’t you ?” She shot a look at him that let him know exactly where he stood.
    “Yeah.” Dean pushed his bowl away, his appetite gone.  
    “Let me just go freshen up, okay, Joey?”
    “Sure thing, baby.”
    She made a face at Dean as she walked by. All he wanted to do was get out of there, and he wished she had just waited a little longer before coming home. His stomach twisted into knots as he picked up the bowl and poured the cereal back into the box. If she didn’t go shopping, he could at least eat it the next day.  
    Joey leaned up against the wall by the door and watched him with a friendly smile. “Hey, kid.”
    “Hey.” Dean put the bowl in the sink and made his way around the kitchen collecting bread and peanut butter for his lunch.
    “You need some help?”
    “I got it, thanks.”
    “You’re pretty good, you get yourself up and everything? How old are you?”
    “Eight.”
    Joey’s face fell. “Wow. I’m impressed. That’s very grown-up of you. Are you sure you don’t want a hand? I’d like to help.”
    Dean looked up at him, wishing Joey really could help. He imagined for a split second living in a world where someone wanted to take care of him. A place where he was tucked in tight by someone who loved him, a world where movies with popcorn or cocoa on cold winter nights existed. But Joey would soon be gone, and his mom would bring a new guy home. Or, she would leave, and he’d be all alone again. Joey couldn’t help him, and his mother didn’t want to.
    “I always do it by myself, but thanks anyway.” Dean turned for his room, leaving the bewildered man in the kitchen.  
    He tried not to listen to what was going on behind his mother’s door as he dressed and brushed his teeth as fast as he could. He pushed his shaggy hair out of his face as he locked the door, but it wouldn’t stay put, since it hadn’t been cut in months. He considered cutting it himself, but the last time he’d done it, it looked stupid, and he’d been made fun of for weeks at school.
    He walked the three blocks to his elementary school and sat on the steps in the chilly morning, waiting for the doors to open with a composition book open in his lap. His teacher gave it to him with permission to keep it to write about whatever he’d like. He’d had it for a week, and it was almost full. He drew a little, but he wasn’t very good, and he found what he really loved was to write poems. He flipped through the last blank pages. There weren’t many left, and he worried over what would happen when he was out of space. It didn’t feel right to ask for another book, and he didn’t have any money for one. There was no way he could ask his mom for one either, and he chewed on his lip, wondering how he could stretch the pages to last as long as possible.
    Dean was so deep in thought that he didn’t see James McCoy coming. He slapped Dean’s open notebook, and it fell down the stairs along with Dean’s pencil.
    “Hey, Monroe. Are you writing some more stupid girl