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walking around. He could have caught you two fighting, and you probably would have been expelled!"

 

"Amanda-"

 

"And if I were Eric I would have beat you up too. Jeez, Kingsley what were you thinking?!"

 

"I'm thinking," he drawled, a small smile climbing on his lips as he pulled the towel from his lip momentarily, "Amanda the Ice Queen might just be thawing a bit. Amanda, is that... is that concern in your voice? For moi?"

 

He laid a hand over his heart dramatically, and batted his dark lashes like a school girl. A blush picked at her cheeks, and she quickly turned her attention from the smile curling his lips and sparklings eyes to the cut on his lip. It was not nearly as bad as it looked in the parking lot, and yet she couldn't look his in the eyes. The smile fell from his mouth, and he sucked in a breath as she pulled the towel from his lips. 

 

"He talked about my mom, Amanda... the first fight, it wasn't because of drugs or anything," he insisted in a small yet steeled voice. Amanda felt herself withdrawing from him, momentarily. It was an odd thing to say, to think, when she had never met the woman, but Amanda felt a bit of pity for the woman. Even in the grave, her life was being speculated and criticized. 

 

"Kingsley," she persisted, her voice tired and soft, "that isn't a very good reason to beat someone up, and wreck their car."

 

"When it's my mom, anything is a good reason," he argued, crossing his arms in front of his chest. In that moment, he seemed to loom over her, his eye becoming lit by an angry fire in his eyes. 

 

"How'd she...," Amanda trailed off, taking a step backwards, unsure of how to ask the next question. 

 

"Die?"

 

Bluntness, she decided, was something Kingsley was abundant in. She nodded, feeling foolish and submissive. Kingsley offered her a small smile, before he admitted exactly what happened. 

 

"She, um, she OD'ed," he said, a blush spreading through his cheeks. He already knew what was racing through her mind, the moment the words slipped form his lips. Of course, poor wounded Kingsley would turn to drugs, the same thing that murdered his mother, because it somehow made him feel closer to her, or some other speil that belonged in a Lifetime movie. "And, I just do them... it helps, with stress," he added lamely, like he needed to explain himself to her. 

 

"Right," she sighed, sounding unimpressed.  

 

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Publication Date: 05-12-2013

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