Ripple Effect

by J. Bengtsson

  Once I had all my students settled into their seats, I opened my lesson plan and began to teach.

  “Miss Malone?”

  Seriously? Was it potty time already? I looked up from my rudimentary lecture. “Yes, Raja?”

  “Are you famous?”

  My students scooted up in their seats, excitement evident in their wiggly bodies.

  “Um… no, I’m not.”

  “How come everyone is taking your picture and calling your name?”

  “Well, I helped a man in the earthquake who is famous, so that’s why the news people want to ask me questions.”

  There. Nice and neutral. I was proud of myself for keeping it both private and G-rated.

  “Your boyfriend is RJ Contreras,” Nelle stated as fact.

  “Well…”

  “Do you live with him?” Benji asked.

  What the heck? Why would he ask me that?

  Flustered, I shook my head. “That’s not… no.”

  “Do you kiss?” Maverick made kissing sounds, and some of the other boys joined in the fun.

  “Maverick, that’s not appropriate. Don’t make me give you a warning on the first day back.”

  “I heard you cut off his foot,” Escott blurted out from the back of the room. Other students nodded their heads.

  “And you stole stuff from a store.”

  I gulped back the horror. What were these parents letting their kids watch? My bottom lip began to quiver.

  “Where…” I stuttered. “Where did you hear that?”

  “On the playground.”

  “Me too.”

  Gripping the desk, I watched my knuckles blanch white. Why did this suddenly feel like the end of my career? How could I be a good influence on these impressionable children when I was the talk of the blacktop water fountain? I stumbled away from my desk.

  “Miss Malone?”

  I held my hand up to the class as I struggled for air. “I’ll be right back.” Going through the back passageway that connected all the first-grade classes, I opened the door to the adjacent room. Trina, my fellow first-grade teacher, must’ve seen the distress on my face and rushed to my side.

  “Dani?”

  “I can’t… someone needs to…”

  I slid down the wall, dazed and gasping for breath. Burying my face in my hands, I sobbed right there on Mrs. Abbott’s classroom floor. The principal was called in, and I was lifted off the ground and escorted to the office, where I slowly but surely regained control. Embarrassment set in, followed by profuse apologies for a whole array of things. My unprofessionalism. Leaving my students unattended. Bringing drama to the school’s front entrance. Looting. Cutting a guy’s foot off. And when I finished purging my sins, I looked up to find Principal Gomez’s horrified face. Basically, I’d just outlined all the reasons she should absolutely fire me. Way to go, Dani.

  But did I stop there? Nope. Instead, I started backtracking, blaming my behavior on lack of sleep and stress from my newfound infamy. Principal Gomez observed me with the neutral face that you just knew was masking her true feelings, which no doubt were, This chick is crazy.

  And she was probably right. There was something off with me. I’d been feeling different ever since collapsing in front of Bruce after just escaping the garage. But because all my focus was on reconnecting with RJ, the symptoms had been masked. Now that we were back together, and my new, altered life was taking shape, I wasn’t sure if I was fully on board with the changes. Ten days ago, I’d been an ordinary girl living a routine life when suddenly the earth shook and—bam!—I was homeless, thingless, and dating a pop star.

  I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d woken up in an alternate universe, where I was living RJ’s paparazzi-fueled life. At first, the media seemed interested in me simply because I was the closest thing to RJ they could get their hands on. But then someone leaked my role in the amputation to the press and I became a hunted woman, with people digging into my past. That brought the Lucky Swimmers Club into the limelight, and all my brothers and sisters too. Things only got worse from there, when grainy footage of me stealing Ding Dongs off the store shelf started circulating around the internet. RJ’s lawyers got involved. So did the store. Basically, it was a huge mess that subsequently got me branded as a thief and a serial mutilator. It was a lot to take in for anyone, but then add to that the sadness I felt for those who’d perished in my apartment building and you had a recipe for disaster.

  I played back the conversation with Principal Gomez in my head.

  You need time to heal, Dani. Go home. Rest. We’ll reevaluate in a week.

  In my mind, she was saying, You’re flippin’ crazy, Dani. Go home. Strap on that straitjacket. You’re never coming back.

  Even if I was cleared of homicidal mania, theft, and an unhealthy Hostess addiction, there was no way to repair my reputation or erase the images of me doing wrong in my students’ heads. And although Principal Gomez assured me that my employment with the district was secure, how accommodating would she be in two weeks? A month? When I was on trial for first-degree burglary?

  I needed a break, a place to hide and rest my weary head. I now fully understood why RJ had run away from his life. It sucked, living under such a punishing spotlight, and made me seriously question whether RJ and I could really make it as a couple. One thing was for sure; if I didn’t put some serious focus on my mental health, we’d never get this relationship off the ground.

  Getting my head back on straight had to be my number one focus, but it couldn’t be done in my current digs. Poor Chloe needed her life back. She couldn’t even take her pup out to pee without having to muscle her way through media. It was time to go, and I knew just where. A place away from the public eye, where I could get a piping hot bowl of chicken noodle soup and snuggle under a pile of cozy blankets.

  With nostalgic tears in my eyes, I dialed home.

  My mother was thrilled. Almost too thrilled—like witch-in-Hansel-and-Gretel thrilled. So much for sentiment. I hadn’t even started the drive yet, and already I was sabotaging the homecoming. If I was going to work on myself, I had to stop villainizing the poor woman. After experiencing RJ’s horror story of a mother, I should feel lucky that her focus was on nursing me back to health and not fattening me up for the oven.

  I made my way to Chloe’s house first, to pack what few possessions I had and leave her a thank-you note before heading to the hospital to say goodbye. Wait, no. Goodbye seemed too final, and this wasn’t forever. It was only until I felt better. I hoped RJ would understand that. No doubt this would come as a surprise to him since I hadn’t mentioned any issues. Maybe if he’d known that today’s breakdown in the classroom was not the first of its kind, he might’ve been more prepared for what was coming. But I’d hidden those early signs of depression from him, maybe not even recognizing them myself until it became quite clear when I was bawling on the floor of my school.

  Still, leaving RJ while he was in the hospital felt like a betrayal on my part. I should be stronger. But the last thing RJ needed while he was healing from his own injuries was his brand-new gal pal snotting all over him and bringing him down. Besides, according to his doctor, RJ would probably be headed home in a few days, once the course of antibiotics had reached its end. And hopefully by then, I’d be back, and then we’d take up right where we’d left off.

  I was several doors down when I heard the laughter coming from RJ’s room. From the sound of it, he and his buds were definitely not following the hospital’s two-visitor rule, but then maybe it didn’t apply to celebrities. I pushed the door open to find the entire band plus Tucker and a teenager I didn’t know all crammed into the small space.

  “Dani!” My name exploded from the gathered crowd.

  “Um… awkward,” I said. “Did you throw a party and not invite me?”

  Dane tossed an arm over my shoulder. “You caught us. We throw a party every time you leave.”

  Normally I would’ve laughed at his obvious joke,
but the most I could offer today was a courtesy giggle.

  “Don’t listen to him,” RJ replied, laughing. “You’ll always be at the top of my VIP list.”

  He held his hand out to me and I took it. I was pulled in for a kiss, which earned me another round of applause. The vibe in the room was festive, and it made me sad that I couldn’t share their joy. Still, I put on a brave face and took a bow.

  RJ studied me a moment, the space above his nose creasing, and I could tell he was reading something into my stiff demeanor.

  Speaking to me in a low voice so the others couldn’t hear, he asked, “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you in class?”

  “What are you doing here? I leave you alone one time and you organize a rave.”

  “If six people is your idea of a rave, we’re going to need to get you out more, babe.”

  Babe? He called me babe? The flutters came at me full force. It was that same feeling I got back in middle school when the boy I’d liked for two years walked by my desk and said, “’Sup, Malone?” Oh, the joy I’d felt that day! But this was different. RJ Contreras had called me babe. That was like being drafted to the big leagues. This beautiful, successful, universally known man liked me. He wanted me. And I could have him too, yet I was choosing… to leave? Maybe I hadn’t thought this plan through enough.

  “Why aren’t you in class?” he repeated, but this time his serious expression did not leave room for wiggle.

  “I was sent home. Turns out six-year-olds are surprisingly up-to-date on world affairs.”

  It took a moment for my words to sink in, but when they did, he winced. “Oh, no.”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “Wait—they sent you home because the kids are well informed?”

  “No, they sent me home because I threw myself onto the ground crying.”

  RJ pursed his lips, finding nothing humorous in my attempt to spin the story in a lighthearted way.

  I leaned down and whispered, “I’ll tell you later.”

  He hesitated a second, obviously wanting more, but relenting for my sake as well as the sake of those he was currently entertaining. His body loosened.

  “Hey, come here.” RJ gathered me in his arms and gave me a tight hug. “You want me to kiss it and make it better?”

  Before I could give him a definitive answer, his lips were already smothering my face in kisses, covering every square inch before moving on to the hollows of my neck. I twisted in his arms, giggling, the endorphins released lighting me up from the inside. I did feel better. Maybe. Maybe I didn’t need to go. Maybe all I needed was RJ and his endearing method of stress control. Maybe.

  Disengaging from his lips, I returned to my feet and spoke more loudly, to include the rest of the room. “So, how are you guys getting away with having this many people in the room?”

  “Shawn?” RJ grinned. “Care to explain?”

  “Sure. See, I found out yesterday that the charge nurse has been harboring a crush on me since the early days of AnyDayNow.”

  “Not important,” Bodhi said, waving his hand. “Get to the point.”

  “Hey, dick. RJ asked me to tell a story, and I’m telling it,” Shawn snapped before redirecting his attention on me and instantly returning to his pleasant demeanor. “Anyway, Dani, let’s just say she’ll never look at the break room the same way again.”

  My eyes rounded as I squeaked my reply. “You slept with her?”

  “Ew. God, no. She’s like fifty. No, I put in a special order at Voodoo Donuts—fifty made-to-order doughy, Bavarian cream-filled nurses in tiny little icing uniforms. Cutest shit ever. You can only imagine the joy I’ve spread through the unit. At this point, I could pretty much scrub in for surgery and no one would say a thing.”

  “You’re a genius,” I said, settling one butt cheek on the bed next to RJ. He promptly wrapped a protective arm around my waist.

  “You okay?” he mouthed, his head still clearly in my drama.

  I wanted to say yes—to smile with my whole being—but I just couldn’t.

  “No.” I shook my head. “Later.”

  “How about now? I’ll ask everyone to leave.”

  “No, RJ. It’s fine. I like the distraction.”

  “Or I could be your only distraction,” he whispered, his hot breath on my ear unleashing the butterflies again. Even broken and bruised, he was a sexy man. RJ had a presence about him, a confidence that bordered on arrogance. Add to that his reputation as the bad boy of AnyDayNow, complete with drunken escapades and women dangling off both arms, and you pretty much had any woman’s worst nightmare. And now, somehow, he was mine—every troublemaking inch of him.

  What was I getting myself into? RJ felt like a whole lot of man for woman like me, one who set her alarm to go to bed. I shouldn’t want him. Practical me knew that. I should stick to what was familiar, play it safe, like my mother taught me. The Jeremys of the world were the guys I was supposed to like—the mom-approved, sweater-wearing nice guys of the dating realm. With a Jeremy by my side, I could expect a quiet, stable, productive life. But with RJ? It wouldn’t be quiet because he lived his life in the wide open. It wouldn’t be stable because there would always be women waiting in the wings, trying to lure him away. And it certainly wouldn’t be productive because… I mean… look at him. My god, I’d never get anything done.

  RJ was like taking a bite out of the forbidden. And once I got a taste, I just knew I’d never be able to go back to the Jeremys. They didn’t make my insides tingle. They weren’t brave and daring. And when shit got real, they ran away. Last week’s Jeremy had proved as much, leaving me in the parking lot to pillage and plunder alone. RJ wouldn’t have left me. In fact, he probably would’ve been in the store looting right alongside me.

  “Hey, guys.” RJ gave an exaggerated yawn. “I’m getting tired. Pain meds are kicking in.”

  “Ah, man, you’re so lucky,” Dane wistfully replied. “I wish I could get me a reserve supply of Norco.”

  “Cut your foot off and then you can.”

  Bodhi’s eyes widened at RJ’s playful reply, not finding it as humorous as the others. He shifted uncomfortably and looked away. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen that look from him, either. There was something up, something that remained unspoken between the two of them.

  RJ seemed oblivious to the friction.

  “Speaking of that,” RJ continued, “am I the only one who sees a disturbing pattern forming here? First Bodhi and the fire. Then me and the earthquake. What’s next? Hunter in an avalanche? Shawn in a tornado? Dane and his damn sinkhole?”

  “Why does everyone shit on my sinkhole?” Dane huffed. “It’s a legitimate means of death.”

  Bodhi returned to the conversation. “No doubt. We just all agree that it’s a far less dramatic way to go, that’s all. No need to get testy.”

  Dane’s eyes bugged. “Dude, you need to educate yourself on sinkholes. The earth’s surface literally collapses in on itself and swallows you whole. You cannot tell me that Hunter surviving under a snowcap drinking his own piss Slurpees or Shawn getting decapitated by a flying cow is more dramatic than me falling in a goddamn sinkhole. Fuck you, man.”

  “My god,” Tucker groaned. “We’re arguing about sinkholes. This is why I’m out of the boy band business. RJ, Dani—good to see you again. Evan, let’s go—before I pummel Dane into the ground.”

  The room cleared quickly, with everyone following Tucker out the door, still debating Dane’s sinkhole.

  “Are they always like that?” I asked.

  “Have you seen any group interview with us, ever? That’ll be your answer.”

  “Hey, I didn’t know Tucker had another son.”

  “He doesn’t.”

  “Then who’s Evan?”

  “Bodhi’s brother.”

  “So… Tucker’s son?”

  “No.” RJ chuckled. “Long story. And one I’d be willing to tell. But first, I need to hear yours.”

  I was about to spill when
a nurse poked her head in. “Oh good, they’re gone. The doctor is coming by in a few minutes, so your lady friend will need to leave. Sorry, hon.”

  “Give us five minutes,” RJ said, not so much as a question but a command.

  She checked her watch. “I can give you two.”

  “Three.”

  She considered his counteroffer before accepting. “Three minutes, RJ, and then I’m calling your mother.”

  He snickered, turning his attention back to me. “Now tell me what happened.”

  I gave him a quick rundown of events and admitted to struggling with both the emotional outbursts and the glare of the media before coming to the inevitable conclusion.

  “Listen RJ, I don’t have a place to live, and…”

  “You can stay at my place. It’s totally secure. My backyard is like a frickin’ luxury resort. I’ll even send in the masseuses. One after the other, just for you. I should be home in four or five days, and then I can be there—be your rock—just like you’ve been for me. I promise you, Dani, we’ll get through this together.”

  “I’m leaving.” I blurted out the remainder of the sentence he hadn’t allowed me to finish.

  RJ blinked. More than once. “Okay. Where to?”

  “My mom’s place. This has nothing to do with how I feel about you. And it’s just for a while… until I get my head on right. If I felt there was any other way…”

  “There is. Dani… let me help you. I can get you a therapist. I can get you anything you want.”

  “Right now what I want is my mom.”

  That shut down the discussion. RJ had no rebuttal, no bargaining chip that trumped a mother’s love.

  “For how long?” he asked, resigned.