by Rachel Leigh
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Jasper looks at me. “I told you not to come here.” His voice filled with a fury that I didn’t know possible. His eyes are so dark that I can barely see the white in them.
“Blakely, you should go home,” Mr. Scott says calmly. Jasper couldn't have gotten his temper from his dad. He is always so gentle and kind, even when it's obvious he has been dealing with something emotional.
“Is everything ok?” I choke out the words, unsure what to say or do, feeling like I should do something.
“Everything is fine. Jasper is right, you should go.” Mr. Scott looks from Jasper to me.
I give Mr. Scott a nod and turn to walk away.
“You know what? I changed my mind. Stay, Queen B. Afterall, this involves you.” Jasper smirks, his tone climbing with each word.
His eyes burn into me, and I know that whatever I’m about to hear is going to taper my flames and weaken my soul. I can feel it. This isn’t just Jasper in a mood. This is Jasper losing control because of something that I did.
Feeling like I’m not prepared. Afraid of what I’m about to hear, I keep walking back into the somber house.
Only I’m not alone. Jasper follows, storming into the kitchen like a tornado, ready to sweep me up and spit me out.
“You knew!” He shouts, pointing a finger in my face. “You both fucking knew.”
For a moment, Jasper goes quiet, and I think the damage is done, until his fist plants firmly into the sliding glass door. Bloodying his knuckles as the door stands completely intact. I shriek at the sight, and I feel it coming... slowly. Just as I feel the weight of my body dissipate, Jasper swoops over and braces me with an arm. “Easy there, sleeping beauty, we have so much to discuss.”
My eyes shoot open as I lie lifeless in his arms. A grin on his face that speaks his silence. It’s apparent that I was on the verge of losing consciousness, but for the first time ever, I was strong enough to fight it.
I steady myself and blink away the stars in my eyes. “Jasper, just get it out. Whatever you have to say, let’s hear it.” I’m suddenly very annoyed with this cat and mouse game.
“Alright, let’s lay it all out there. You start. Tell me what you were doing on July 17th, 2008.”
I think for a moment, 2008. I was, what, like eleven years old. July?” My eyes widen, my heartbeat that was faint only moments ago has now slammed into gear and is joining the race with my pulse. I take a deep breath. The accident. But, what does Jasper have to do with the accident?
“I was with my dad. Why do you ask?” I speak casually. I can’t tell him. What if I have this wrong? What if he doesn’t know? My brother and I will both lose everything. Dad made it clear that if we ever speak a word about that day then we would lose everything. For Talon—for myself, I just can’t.
“Cut the bullshit, Blakely. I know everything. I know that you were in a car accident. I know that your dad hit and killed a woman. I know that it was covered up by your ‘family connections.’” He steps closer, invading my space. “What you might not know is that the lady you watched die on Highway 88 was a mother,” his teeth grind as the words slither through, “my mother.”
I freeze. My heart may have even stopped beating. I just stand there and watch as Jasper sweeps up his bag off the floor. A large packed duffle bag that I didn’t even notice until now.
And he’s gone.
Unsure when or if I’ll ever see him again. I don’t go after him. I can’t. There is nothing I can say that can ever make any of this ok. It’s not ok, and it never was. I’ve always wished that my parents would have let the accident play out as it should, but my brother and I were filled with misconceptions, excuses, and bribery. Our minds were sponges the days following the accident, and Dad soaked them in his own truth.
Knox has been unreachable. I’ve called him countless times. I’ve been sitting at Meg’s house hitting redial on his name, over and over again. I couldn’t go home, and I couldn’t stay at the Burtons. After Jasper left, I finally unglued my feet from the floor and walked out quicker than I came in. I considered talking to Mr. Scott, but I couldn't bring myself to do it, considering the new information that had been brought to light.
“Are you ok?” I lean forward as I watch the pool of blood continue to expand over the black-top pavement.
Her eyes flutter momentarily, and I look around once more, hoping to see flashing lights, to hear sirens…msomething or someone coming to help us.
“Please, wake up.” I shake the lady. Her long brunette hair covered in red sticky goo.
She opens her mouth to speak, but only a choked gurgle escapes her.
Ignoring the blood, I lean into her. I hug the stranger as she slowly slips away.
I pull off my red and black flannel and drape it over her.
She’s gone.
I drop my face into my hands and lose any bit of strength I thought I had. I’ve always had to be the strong one. The one who held it together. The keeper of everyone else’s emotions. Big girls don’t cry—Dad would always say. Yet, here I am, watching life end right in front of my eyes and with no witnesses, the tears fall, dropping on the pavement and washing away in the blood.
The sound of a groan escapes Dad’s car and I pull myself up, limping over to the passenger side that I climbed out of. I stretch myself up and look in the window that I climbed out of and see him lying inside. Climbing out was effortless. Life or death. Climbing back in feels impossible with all of the broken glass. I can see a huge gash on his head with blood streaming out of it falling carelessly on his face. With his eyes closed, one may think he isn’t alive, but his brief movements tell me that he is. Just as I get a good enough grip to try and climb back in to help him, I hear a car coming down the road. I drop myself back down and make my way to the road. Standing in the middle, I throw my arms up. It’s a police car.
Yes! He can help us.
“Blakely Porter, is that you?” A familiar voice, a familiar face. Yet, I can’t put a name to it. “Are you ok? Who is with you?” He says, just as his eyes meet the helpless lady lying in the road. He hurries to her side and yells over his shoulder. “Get in my car, stay put.”
I do as I’m told. He’s a police officer. He will help us. He will save dad, and everything is going to be ok.
He did help, but nothing was ever okay after that day.
I dial Knox one last time. Still no answer. I can’t understand why he’s ignoring my calls, unless of course, he’s pissed at me, too. It seems to be the theme today.
“Still no answer?” Meg lifts her head from her Literature book.
I shake my head. “Where the hell could he be?”
“Maybe they called a Sunday practice.” She shrugs, completely unaware of what is going on right now. I just told her that Jasper and I had a fight, and I needed to talk to Knox about it. Rumors have been flying and everyone knows that Jasper and I have something going on, even if neither of us know what that something is.
“Maybe you’re right.”
“Did you already get this done?” she asks, referring to the English literature assignment. “It’s never ending. Mrs. Burton sure does like to stick it to us on the weekends.”
“Haven’t even started.” I speak the truth. I’ll throw something together at the last minute. It can’t be too hard to write a quick paper on American identity.
“How are you even graduating?” She laughs. “You’re not really screwing Principal Somers, are you?”
“What?!” I spit, “Where in the world did that come from?”
“Sorry, Blakely, I shouldn’t have said anything.” She shifts herself on the bed where we both sit. Now with her back against the headboard next to me.
“Well, you did, and now, you need to explain yourself. Why would you ever think that I was sleeping with Principal Somers? That’s just gross!” My voice is harsh, as it should be at such an accusation.
“Petra said…”
“Of course, she did. I should have kn
own.” I shake my head in complete disgust with the girl I once called a friend.
“She said that Brady Nillson saw him leaving your house early in the morning at the end of the summer. That he looked rushed as if he was trying to escape without being seen. Petra being the loudmouth she is, basically told everyone about it.”
“Damn that girl!” I shout. “This is getting out of hand. She is literally trying to destroy my reputation. Scratch that, she has destroyed my reputation.” I jump off the bed. “I’m settling this once and for all.”
“Wait, what are you doing?” Meg raises her brows with a slack expression.
I don’t know what I plan to do, but I have to do something. “I have to talk to her. She has to stop this. First the rumors about Wyatt, and now the fricken principal.” I bury my face into my hands, and it’s taking everything in me not to crumble, right here and now. Something that I don’t do. I break in private. In the shower, when no one is home, and I can scream at the top of my lungs. In my nightmares, where I can wake up and know that it wasn’t real. In my mind, where no one can hear me. There is nothing louder than your thoughts screaming at you in a silent room.
“Blakely, it’s ok. No one believes that wench anyways. They all know she’s just jealous. I was only joking when I asked if it were true.”
“Does everyone know that? Do they really? Because, I’m beginning to realize that I have nothing for anyone to be jealous of.”
I can feel the lump rising in my throat, and I know that I have to get out of here. I was planning to stay the night, but I can’t be here. I need to be alone, and there is no place lonelier than home.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Jasper
After a long night of trying to get a phone number for Mike Porter, Jimmy was finally successful. I’ve put a lot of thought into what I want to happen, and it’s time for him to pay. When my calls were unsuccessful, I sent texts—all unanswered. I won’t give up. Not a chance in hell.
Sleeping on Marco’s couch wasn’t exactly the comfort I’ve grown accustomed to. I may not like living with Val and Knox, but my own bed is sounding pretty nice right about now. I’m forced up a little earlier than normal, since I’ve got an extra twenty-minute drive to school, but the solitude of the drive is nice.
When I walk into the school, I feel like an outcast. Not that I was ever in with these birds—not that I ever wanted to be. I never tried to fit in, and I had no intentions of making friends here. Yet, I let my guard down and opened my heart to the wannabe queen of the school, getting it trampled on in the process. Everything has changed—at least for me. No one else may know what happened all those years ago, but I feel even more strongly now, that this school is full of rich liars. Each person I pass by, likely harboring skeletons in their closet. We all have secrets, but I can feel the darkness of the ones that lie in the minds of the students at Redwood High School.
I just need to finish this year. Now, more than ever, I need out of this town.
Today, though, today, I’m willing to take whatever grade is given to me to as long as I can make it clear what I really think of the girl who took part in destroying my life—the Cassiopeia of Redwood.
I walk into class, unsure of whether or not Blakely will even show her face. I take my seat, slouching back with my eyes glued to the door, examining the expression of each student who walks in, wondering if they knew, too. Hell, maybe the whole town knew. Maybe the jokes have been on me for the last seven years. Maybe Dad moved me here for a reason. I’m beginning to realize that nothing and no one are what they seem. Even the one person I trusted most in this world. When Knox walks in, his eyes dart to me. A look of worry on his face. I cock my head and hold his gaze until he nervously breaks it.
He knows something.
Mrs. Tate walks in, closing the door behind her. Right when I think I’m doing the presentation myself, the door flies open and in walks a dismantled girl. Messy blonde hair with flyaways going in every direction, something Blakely would never allow. A pair of black velour leggings and a matching zip up hoodie. Her pale natural skin is almost lifeless. Bags under her eyes that shoot in my direction. I turn away quickly on impulse. Everyone watches as she shuffles between the desks toward her seat, directly behind me. No cocky comment, no self-absorbed eyeroll that screams I’m better than you.
Good. Seeing her misery brings good company to mine.
“I’m glad you could join us, Blakely. While you’re still standing, you and Jasper can present your Greek mythology project first.”
I stand up, grabbing the notecards that Blakely and I made together, taking her half and holding them out to her without looking. I toss mine back down on the desk and proceed to the front of the class.
“Don’t you need those?” She asks under her breath.
I don’t respond, I just keep on my path, until I’m facing the class.
Blakely begins by introducing our project. Her sassy tone, now a frail one as she reads directly from the cards, not even glancing up once. Her confidence taking a backseat with her glamorous upkeep.
When it’s my turn, she looks at me apprehensively. Unsure what I will say without my notecards.
“As my delightfully honest partner just explained, Cassiopeia is a constellation in the northern sky that was named after Queen Cassiopeia. What she failed to mention,” I turn to Blakely, “is that the queen was undeniably vain. She thought the sun rose and set on her and that her beauty could blind the eye of any soul who dared look at her. Her arrogance and boastfulness, ultimately, lead to her downfall.”
I turn back to the class and begin pacing the front row. “I think we can all agree that we know someone like that. Someone who thinks they are too good for the truth, that their beauty alone can pay for their sins. Unfortunately, whoever crossed paths with the queen was doomed. Because of her vanity, all the people in her land were plagued by a flood that destroyed many lives.” I swing around to face Blakely. “But, not yet hers. Her time was coming, though. Little did she know that her fate was in the hands of Poseidon, and for the rest of eternity, she would be tied to a chair in the heavens and spend her days hanging upside down. We can call this her torture chair.”
The class is silent. Not a word spoken, not even from Mrs. Tate.
It’s Blakely’s turn to wrap things up. Only she doesn’t. She chokes on a couple of words, before looking at me.
So, I close it out for us.
“In conclusion, Cassiopeia paid—and she will continue to pay, because every choice has an echo. She may think she was a queen who was too good for everyone else, that she was untouchable, unbreakable. In reality, though, she was just a royal bitch.”
A few gasps fill the room, a couple jaws drop, with a few claps and laughter.
“Mr. Scott!” Mrs. Tate huffs, “Please take your seat.”
I bite back a smile as I walk to my desk, leaving Blakely bewildered.
I think we got an A.
Blakely held her head high for the rest of class. I give her props, she even stuck it out the rest of the day. Even when she watched me fondle Petra in the hallway. Watching this girl choke on her lies is getting more and more fulfilling.
I’m standing at my locker before last period when I catch her out of the corner of my eye. Without making it obvious that I see her, I watch as Levi walks over to her side. They share a couple of words before she falls into his arms. She glances over his shoulder, and our eyes meet when I screw up and let her catch them. I try my hardest to turn away, so fucking hard, but I can’t.
The pain in her icy blue eyes tries to suck me again. All the while being wrapped up in his arms. My blood burns under my skin and rises in my cheeks, I grip the broken pencil in my hand so hard that I feel the sharp point of the lead pierce my skin.
She breaks our stare and buries her face in his shoulder before he whispers something in her ear that makes her laugh. That’s enough to do it. She shouldn’t be laughing; she should be feeling as much hurt as I do. I slam my locker s
hut and walk past them, purposely bumping into Levi.
“Watch it, asshole,” Levi spits.
I swing around, and in one swift motion, I have Levi pinned to his locker. “What did you say?” I grit through my clenched teeth.
“I said, watch it asshole,” He snaps, unaffected by my hold on him. “Now get your fucking hands off me before I lay you flat on this floor.”
Blakely attempts to pull me back, but I shake her off. “Stop it, you two. Let him go, Jasper,” she whimpers.
“I’d fucking bury you. Now stay the hell out of my way.” I give him a shove with the release of my hands and turn to walk away.
I stop in front of the doorway of class when my phone vibrates in my back pocket. I pull it out and read the message that flashes across the screen.
Showtime.
I spin around and head back in the direction I came. Blakely and Levi are gone, the halls are almost empty. I throw my books in my backpack and pull out my keys.
I’ve got important business to take care of.
Pulling up to the Porter house feels surreal. I once called the house next door home for a brief period of time. I have no intention of returning. The steps that I’m now walking up once sent quivers through my stomach with the anticipation of seeing Blakely. I never could have guessed I’d be walking through this door with demands.
Before I can even bring my hand up to knock, the front door swings open. Without a word, Mr. Porter steps to the side, allowing my entrance.
“Thanks for coming, Jasper,” he says, as he closes the door behind us.
“Cut the shit. I’m going to tell you exactly what I want and exactly how I want it, then I never want to smell your whiskey tarnished breath again.”
“Fair enough.” He nods. He’s finally catching on to the fact that there is no way out of this except through my requests. If he ever wants to live a life outside of prison, he will give me exactly what I want.