by A. J. Logan
“Sweetheart, he’s gone. He’s not coming back.” Nathan’s words wrap around my neck, gripping tightly, choking my only prospect for happiness as I struggle to take a breath.
“No,” I push up from the chair, turning to leave, but Nathan counters my move, blocking my path as he lightly grips my shoulders.
“Quinn, I’m so sorry.”
My eyes clamp shut. I feel crazy saying it out loud, trust me, but I need some hope. Saying goodbye to my dad won’t bring me closure because I need my dad.
“He would’ve found a way to get ahold of you by now if he were alive.”
I hear the truth in Nathan’s words as my eyes remain closed. And I hate that he’s right. I know my dad wouldn’t let me believe he was dead. No matter what trouble he was in, he’d never do that to me. The detectives said there was blood in the car, it was likely he’d been ejected from the vehicle, and with the current—
A wave of nausea overwhelms me; I clutch my stomach. Candace’s sobs fill my ears as she remains seated at the table. It fuels my rage, overpowering my pain.
Shrugging out of Nathan’s grip, I run from the kitchen heading straight to my car. I can’t do this. Saying goodbye to my dad isn’t an option. At least this way I can pretend he might show up someday, even if I know nothing is further from the truth.
19
My car reflexively swings into the driveway of my old house even though Haley’s house is my destination. The three-hour drive did nothing to calm my nerves because she still hasn’t answered my calls. I want to know she is okay or undo whatever the douche-bucket did to my friendship.
Cars line Haley’s driveway, all familiar, belonging to our friends. At least they were my friends. Hurrying across the yard, music floats from the backyard, so I take the familiar path through the side gate that’s always unlocked.
Pushing the gate open, I spot an all too familiar scene—a party. The fear that something bad happened to Haley vanishes as the traumatizing memories from the last party I attended here surface. With my palms pushed against my temples, I scan the crowd until I focus on Haley, who is currently enveloped in Mason’s embrace as his mouth nuzzles her neck.
I can’t move until I hear a random partygoer yell my name, welcoming me to the party I hadn’t been invited to.
Haley’s eyes snap up, meeting mine. A million thoughts flood my mind. None of them I want, so I take off running down the path I’d just come up.
“Quinn!” Haley’s desperate scream causes me to freeze, my fingers gripping the handle of the door as I look to her, hoping for some logical explanation. “I’m so sorry, Quinn.”
“What?” I croak, facing my most trusted friend as Mason stands behind her.
“I wanted to tell you, but I just couldn’t … not with everything else you were dealing with.” Haley’s eyes look everywhere but at mine.
The person before me is a stranger. “Did he put you up to this?”
“Who?” Confusion mars her normally pretty face.
“Asher. Did he tell you to do this?” It doesn’t make sense but neither does the scene in front of me. Haley is the only person I have left that feels like family.
“Who’s Asher? What are you talking about?”
My hands ball into fists at my side. I’m so sick of playing games. I’m tired of being lied to. Even my dad had been jerking me around, I can’t help but think as I glance at the dark, vacant house that used to be my home.
“Tell me the truth.”
“It just happened,” she says, just above a whisper. “We started hanging out because we both missed you, and it just happened.”
I don’t know what bothers me more, the fact that my best friend betrayed me or that I’d been expecting this was another wicked design of Asher’s torment. It’s not, but even worse—it’s my new normal, where everyone I trust is nothing more than a malicious liar.
My eyes scrutinize Mason, my emotions numb. “It’s fine.”
“Quinn,” Haley says, stepping forward as I dart back.
“No, really, it’s fine. It’s not like I was anywhere around since I was dealing with a dead dad and all.”
“Quinn, please don’t leave. Please just talk to me.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” I slide into the driver’s seat, watching Haley turn, burying her head in Mason’s chest while he consoles her.
Looking at my former house, it’s official: my life will never be what it was before. My best friend deserted me, flaking out on my birthday—one of the toughest days I’ve had since I’d lost Dad. My dad … the man who’d been my constant in life. The man I measured all others against had been lying to me. A lie so utterly massive that he paid the ultimate price, leaving me in his wake to question which aspects of him were genuine. Guilt over questioning his memory surges through me as I will it away by looking to my former home. Whether it was truth or deception, I can’t go back even if I wanted to. And right now, that’s for the best because the two people I cared about most betrayed me.
20
My feet skim the warm water, sending ripples floating across the pool, causing light reflections to bounce around the yard. I don’t question why I drove straight back to Nathan and Candace’s house. It’s not like I have anywhere else to go. And I hadn’t wanted to go anywhere else once Nathan’s words about this being my home away from home pierced through the anguish that had swarmed my mind after driving away from the only home I’ve known.
Nathan’s feet splash in the water next to mine as he plops down next to me. I watch the ripples fade beneath the water.
“Your mom was worried about you,” he says, interrupting the silence.
“That’s a first,” I mumble, pushing my palms against the smooth cement beneath me. Up until a few weeks ago, eleven years’ worth of time had passed where she hadn’t cared enough to find out if I was sick, hurt, happy, or well.
“It’s true. We were both worried.”
“Here I am.”
“Haley called.”
“Lucky you.” At least she called someone because she couldn’t be bothered to call me. I’m not even sure I cared about Mason. At least not like I had before. It’s the sting of her betrayal that slices through me. The lies. Maybe if she would’ve just told me, I’d feel differently. Too late to find out now.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“Okay.” He pauses for a moment. “If you change your mind, I’m here to listen. Or maybe you can talk to your mom. I’m sure she’d be better at the advice giving.”
“I don’t need advice.”
“But it does seem like you need a friend.”
“What’s the point? They do nothing but lie.”
“Everyone makes mistakes.”
“‘Everyone’ is an asshole.”
“Yep, major.” His answer startles me. When I finally turn my head to meet his gaze, he continues, “But that doesn’t mean we don’t care … even angels fall.”
I’m silent as Asher appears in my thoughts, the beautifully angelic face that I still feel the urge to slap. “Sure.”
“Seriously, there’s a song about it and everything,” he laughs, swinging his feet and creating waves throughout the swimming pool.
“Or maybe there’s no such thing as angels, and there’s nothing but a bunch of evil assholes everywhere.”
“Perhaps,” he hesitates before continuing. “But wouldn’t you want your dad watching over you?”
“No, I want him to tell me why he lied to me.”
“He’s the only one who can answer that, but I’m sure there was a good reason.”
“Sure,” I repeat, but there is no good reason. He could’ve told me anything. Maybe if he had, we could’ve figured it out together and he would still be here.
Nathan rises. “The offer still stands. Although, I’ll tell you, the house is already yours.”
“I’m not sure I want it anymore.”
“Either way, it’s yours. The money is
waiting for you after graduation, but I’ve already purchased the house and had your name put on the deed. Keep it, rent it, sell it, burn it down … just, whatever you do, make sure you do it for the right reason.” He walks away as if he didn’t just give me a house.
A house I no longer want. What am I going to do, live there and watch Mason and Haley enjoy their happily ever after?
The plan had always been to go to college with Haley. I guess that changes now too. It’s not too late to apply to other schools, and the best scenario would probably be as far away from here as possible. Maybe a new, fresh start would be best. Maybe I could eventually forget everything I left behind. The only problem is I have to make it through this year before that can happen. And that seems more impossible that anything else.
21
Monday. I’ve always loathed Mondays but this one is major suckage. I’m standing in front of school, watching as everyone walks through the doors like it’s not a big deal, and it’s really not. But I wasn’t supposed to walk through them again, yet here I am.
“Morning, Quinn!” Grant says cheerfully, holding out a coffee to me. “I grabbed an extra, hoping I’d bump into you again on the way to class.”
I grab the familiar cup from Java Knox.
“Thanks.” I force a smile at the sweet gesture as we walk through the school doors.
“I didn’t know what you liked, so I just asked for the basics—caffeine, cream, and sugar.”
“Perfect.” I have a genuine smile as I take a sip of the warm coffee. It is much needed.
Grant rubs the bulldog’s ass as we walk past. “You have a fun weekend?”
“A blast.” My words are laced with sarcasm as I recall my weekend.
It had been fairly uneventful after the disaster Friday night. I’d stayed mostly in my “new” bedroom and avoided my phone which was loaded with apology texts and voice mails from Haley and a few from Mason. It’s funny that they both decide to call after the fact.
A hard jolt sends my coffee spilling down the front of my shirt.
Damn it.
I’m slinging coffee off my hands when Allison’s amused eyes meet mine.
“Oh, I didn’t see you there,” she says as she goes to step around me.
Extending my leg to the side, I catch her just in time to send her tumbling forward as she falls flat on her face with her ass in the air. She huffs, spinning to sneer at me, pure rage on her face.
I just had my heart pummeled by my best friend. This petty bullshit will not get to me.
Smiling as coffee drips from the hem of my skirt into the puddle at my feet, I look directly at her. “No problem.”
She hustles to her feet, cussing up a storm, but I stand rigid as a stone.
“Get to class.” Principal Huntington yells at the few students who have gathered as he notes my coffee-stained uniform. “What’s happened?”
“Oh, nothing. Clumsy me—spilled my coffee.”
Principal Huntington looks to Allison then back to me, knowing it was more than a mere accident. “You sure everything is okay, Quinn?”
“Yes, sir. I’m fabulous,” I say, smirking at Allison as she stomps away. I probably just upped their torment, but they’ll figure out eventually that I won’t just cower down and take it.
Principal Huntington asks if I need a change of clothes, but I tell him I’m good.
To think I’d told myself I was being extra by putting a spare uniform in my car just in case. I trudge to my car, snatch my clean uniform, and stomp my way back into the school as Grant walks silently with me.
“I’ll see you later, but thanks for the coffee.” I tease, as we walk down the empty hallway.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. Really.” I have firsthand knowledge that there are far worse things than dealing with a bitch who gets pleasure out of spilling coffee on you. The fact that I really needed that caffeine fix bothers me more than anything.
He holds his coffee out to me. “Here, take mine.”
“No, I’m good, but thanks.” It’s a kind gesture but I don’t feel right about taking his drink. I’m still questioning the motives of everyone around me—Grant included.
“You sure … about the coffee and that you’re fine?”
“Yep,” I wave my neatly pressed, unstained uniform in the air, “I will be in a few.”
“Okay. Just don’t let her or any of them get to you. They aren’t worth the time.”
“Noted,” I say, giving him a wave before pushing into the girl’s locker room. I should hurry to get to first period, but my movements are slow and robotic as I unbutton my stained shirt.
“You really don’t listen.”
Clutching my shirt together, I whirl to spot Asher propped against the locker before he pushes off, moving in front of me. The jerk has caught me off guard again. My heart races as I try to keep my voice from wavering. “You really don’t either. I’m almost certain this is the girl’s locker room.”
“He’s not a good guy, Quinn.”
“Neither are you.”
“I’m not pretending to be something I’m not.” His voice is confident, matching the irritatingly arrogant aura he exudes.
Is he really trying to persuade me to think he is the good guy in this twisted tale of his?
“Ah, yes … I had a front-row seat this weekend to a shit show hiding in plain sight. Lies revealed. Secrets came to light. Blah, blah, blah. Do me a favor and save your riddles for your girlfriend so she will leave me the hell alone.” I motion to my stained shirt.
Lifting his hand, he brushes the tips of his fingers over the swell of my breast. Heat flames up my neck, spreading to my cheeks.
I smack his hand away, clutch the collar of my shirt closed with one hand, and slap him hard across his face with the other one.
His face remains turned to the side for a few seconds—although it feels like hours—before he slowly turns his sinister stare to me. The muscles tighten in his jaw, a hint of pink showing on his cheek where my fingers struck.
I hold my breath, anticipating his next move. I should back away. Run. Flee. Do something, but I refuse to bow down from his menacing watch. He wants to declare Grant the bad guy, but Asher has crossed lines nobody has ever dared to cross.
My body tenses as he shifts forward, speaking lowly as a shiver moves through my body. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Releasing my breath, I watch as he strides out of the locker room. When he’s out of sight, I plop down on the cold metal bench with a thump. I don’t understand why Asher is intent on making my life miserable, and I’m not sure how much more I can deal with.
Considering how the day started, I wouldn’t have guessed the remainder of Monday would go as smoothly as it had. Searching out my key fob, I walk with Grant to the parking lot while he chats away.
“Did you want to get some coffee in the morning? My treat to make up for this morning.”
“You don’t have to do that.” I feel guilty looking at his bruised face. They had issues before I arrived, but I’m guessing whatever they have against me isn’t helping Grant’s case either.
“But I want to. Maybe meet me at Java Knox, though, so we can enjoy a cup in peace before we’re thrown to the wolves.” A mischievous smirk appears on his face as he glances over my shoulder.
Turning to look, I see Asher and Elliot propped up against Asher’s car, shooting murderous glares in our direction.
“Yeah. Meeting there probably would be much more relaxing.”
He smiles, holding out his phone. “Can I get your number?”
“Don’t do it, Quinn!” Elliot yells across the parking lot.
“Sure.” Grabbing the phone, I punch my number in as Elliot curses. He really should talk to Asher about getting a girl’s number. Grant is asking, not just taking as he pleases.
“I’ll see you in the morning.” He smiles, lingering for a moment before walking away.
Sliding into my car, I make a point to not
look where I know they are still standing. I just want to get out of here before I have to start this crap all over again tomorrow.
22
Grant waves to me through the window of Java Knox, arriving before me once again as I see my quad latte waiting on me.
It’s Friday morning, the end of my second week at Golden Olympus.
I’m feeling hopeful—the week has passed without any further torture from Asher and his minions. Aside from some comments from Wade in shop, the week was rather boring after Asher’s weirdo visit in the locker room. I’m waiting for the next shoe to drop but maybe they found a new target. At least, I can hope.
Dropping my bag next to the same chair I have every morning since we started meeting here, I slide onto the seat. It’s not the same as hanging with my old friends, but it is nice to have something familiar with someone.
We’re chatting about our pitiful woodshop projects when Grant’s expression tightens. Looking out the window, I spot the cause. Asher steps out of his car, appearing to own the damn place. Victoria bails from the passenger seat—obviously not happy—slams the door, and yells something at her brother, who ignores her. Elliot walks past Victoria, exchanging a look and probably some words, then she throws her hands in the air before storming off toward school. It’s just across the highway, but the driveway is a good two miles long as it winds around the school grounds before reaching the main campus. A red BMW stops abruptly, and Allison steps out, her typically (and inappropriately) short skirt is hiked up even more.
Damn it. They couldn’t just give me one place. One place without the worry of them invading my day.
I finish my last bit of coffee and grab my bag. It’s almost time for school to start, and their arrival is my cue to leave. “I’m going to head to school.”
Before I can rise, Allison is standing next to our table, flicking her black painted nails against her maroon jacket as she speaks. “Hi, guys.”
I stare at her, waiting to find out what she’s up to before I decide what move to make next.