Do What I Say: A High School Bully Romance (Dirty Little Secret Book 1)

by Kai Juniper

  I take the chair next to Parker, directly across from Briggs, while Finn sits on the metal desk that's off to the side.

  "Let's just get this shit over with," Finn says. "I fucked up and everyone's pissed. So now what?"

  I look at Finn. "What are you talking about? What'd you do?"

  "He went to the party last night," Parker explains. "He got wasted and thinks he told someone what happened."

  "Who?" I ask, still looking at Finn.

  "Could be anyone," Finn says, taking a pen from the desk and tossing it in the air. "I was wasted and high."

  "Then how do you know you told someone?"

  "Because Ariel texted me this morning, asking when my car would be fixed. She wouldn't know that unless I told her what happened."

  "Maybe you just told her it broke down," I say. "How'd you get to the party last night?"

  "Kiera picked me up. I must've said something to piss her off because she left and I ended up with Ariel."

  "Have you talked to her since last night?" I ask.

  "I told him not to," Briggs says. "Not until we figure out how to handle this."

  "Just tell her you were drunk and made it all up," I say.

  "That might work if the story wasn't all over the news," Parker mutters, leaning back in his chair. "If Ariel sees the story, she's going to know he didn't make it up."

  "Wait—when was it on the news?" I ask.

  "Last night," Briggs says. "And this morning. The cops are doing an investigation. The guy's in critical condition. There's a good chance he could die."

  "Oh, God." I slump back in my chair. "We killed someone. We actually killed someone."

  "We didn't kill him," Briggs says. "He's not dead yet. And that's not what we're here to talk about." Briggs looks over at Finn. "If Ariel asks you about what you said last night, tell her you made it up. Tell her you heard the story on the news right before you left the house so it must've been in your head and that's why you said it. Ariel's not going to question it. You may not have even told her. I'm guessing she wanted you to take her out and you said something about your car not working and that was it."

  "So are we done here?" Finn says, continuing to toss the pen in the air.

  "You could at least pretend to take this seriously," Parker says, sounding angry. "It's your fucking fault we're in this mess."

  "It’s HER fault." Finn points to me. “If we hadn't stopped to pick her up, I never would've hit the guy. He probably showed up there right as we were driving by. If we'd been there a few minutes earlier, this never would've happened."

  The three of them look at me and the room gets quiet.

  "Wait—this isn't MY fault!" I say. "I didn't ask you to stop."

  "You flagged us down," Parker says.

  "Yeah, but you didn't have to stop." I look at the three of them. "Are you seriously blaming me for this?"

  "Finn's right," Parker says. "If you hadn't stopped us, we wouldn't have—"

  "Okay, I'm leaving." I race to the door, but Briggs grabs me around the waist and sets me on his lap. "You'll leave when we say you can."

  "Let me go."

  "Did you not just hear me?"

  "Yeah. I heard you. I meant let me go sit on my chair."

  He lets me up and I give Finn and Parker evil looks as I return to my seat.

  "About tomorrow," Briggs says. "If anyone at school asks where we were Saturday night, the three of us hung out at Finn's house and Ella sat in her room alone, like she always does."

  "I do not!" I say, although I usually do spend Saturday nights in my room.

  "Nobody even mentions us being out on that road," Briggs says. "Got it?"

  Parker, Finn, and I nod.

  "If anyone gets asked something and doesn't know what to say, call me and I'll figure something out. Don't be putting anything in a text that could end up getting us in trouble. If the cops ever came after us for this, they could use our texts as evidence."

  "I still don't know why you get to decide this shit," Finn says, sounding annoyed.

  "You want to take this on?" Briggs says. "Be in charge of this?"

  "No," he mutters, looking down.

  "How about you, Parker? You want to be in charge?"

  He shakes his head.

  "I didn't think so."

  "What about me?" I ask. "I'm not even considered? Because I'm a girl?"

  "Because you've never been in trouble," Briggs says. "You don't know how to cover shit up because you've never had to."

  "What have you had to cover up?"

  "None of your fucking business."

  "Of course not." I roll my eyes. "I just have to trust you and do what you say."

  "Exactly."

  "Asshole," I mutter.

  Briggs stands up and moves his chair away from the door. "Finn. Parker. Get out of here."

  "Why?" Parker gets up.

  "I want to talk to her alone."

  "Whatever," Finn mumbles as he swipes through his phone on his way out the door. Parker follows, and I hear Finn say, "I bet he's gonna fuck her."

  "He's not gonna fuck her, you idiot," Parker says.

  Briggs closes the door. "Ignore them."

  "You're not going to fuck me?" I say in a high-pitched voice. "And here I was getting all excited." I roll my eyes.

  Briggs walks over to me. "I need you to get on board with this."

  "On board with what?"

  "The hierarchy of power. I need you to get in line. Not challenge me. If you do, it'll make it harder for me to keep Finn and Parker in line."

  "I'm not just going to do whatever you tell me. My entire future is at stake. If we get charged for this, I won't be going to college or getting a job or—"

  "I know all that. It's the same for all of us. Our lives are shit if someone finds out about this, which is why I need to keep Finn and Parker in line. They're unpredictable, especially Finn. When he drinks, he says shit he shouldn't. And Parker can't be trusted to keep a secret. He talks before he thinks."

  "Then what are we going to do?"

  "You let me be in charge. If you want to challenge me, do it when it's just you and me, not in front of Parker and Finn. If they see you trying to challenge me, they'll start challenging me too, and then we'll lose control of the situation. Trust me, I know those two, and if I don't keep them on a short leash, this secret will be out in a few days, if not sooner."

  "You're just saying that because you want to be in charge. You don't want anyone telling you what to do."

  He leans down to me, his eyes locking on mine. "I'm saying it because I don't want to end up in jail for this. I don't want a fucking criminal record. You think you're the only one with plans for after graduation?"

  "No, but—"

  "Then do as I say and don't challenge me in front of them."

  "What if I don't agree with you?"

  "Call me and we'll meet, without Finn and Parker around."

  I don't trust him. I don't trust any of the A's, but I believe what Briggs says about Finn and Parker being the most likely to tell our secret. I would've said just Finn, but Parker talks a lot so I could see him being unable to keep a secret.

  This is so messed up. I can't believe my future is in the hands of my three biggest enemies. What if they go to the cops and say that I was the one driving that night, or the one who convinced them to leave the scene? They have no reason to protect me. I'm not their friend.

  "How do I know you guys won't turn against me?" I ask.

  "You don't. Just like I don't know if you'll turn against me. None of us are safe. We could all turn against each other."

  "You've been friends with Parker and Finn forever. They're not going to turn against you. But there's a good chance the three of you will turn against me."

  "Guess you'll find out. But I guarantee things won't turn out well for any of us if I don't keep Finn and Parker in line, and the only way I'll do that is by taking the lead. Making the decisions. If you don't believe me, try it your way. C
hallenge me in front of them and see what happens. But I can tell you right now you're not going to like the outcome."

  I take a moment to consider it. I hate giving Briggs control but it might be the only way to keep Finn and Parker from telling our secret.

  "You'll listen to me if I disagree?" I ask.

  "If it's in private, yes."

  I chew on my lip, my eyes lifting to Briggs. "Okay. I'll do it. I'll support you in front of them but you better not make me regret it."

  He smiles. "There's never regrets with me."

  Chapter Seventeen

  Ella

  "Ella?" My dad knocks on my door. "You in there?"

  "Yeah, hold on." I set my laptop down and race over to open the door. "How was work?"

  He smiles. "I missed having my partner with me."

  "Sorry. I really needed to study and finish some homework."

  "How'd it go? Are you all caught up?"

  "Yeah." I force out a smile, hoping he doesn't notice I'm lying. I haven't been studying. I've been looking online for stories about the man we hit. After the guys dropped me off, I did some research about hit-and-runs, like how often the people are caught and the penalties for those who get charged. The penalties aren't that bad if the person you hit is injured, but if they die, the penalty could be prison time. Even if you're just a passenger, you can still get charged.

  Why didn't I stay behind? If I'd stayed with the guy, I wouldn't be in trouble. We were almost in town. My phone would've worked. I could've called for an ambulance and let Parker, Finn, and Briggs be the ones in trouble for leaving. But that's not what I did, and I can't go back and change it.

  "Did you have dinner yet?" my dad asks.

  "No, I was waiting for you.”

  "Let me go clean up. We'll stop and eat on our way to get the truck."

  I'm nervous about going there to get it. We'll be passing by the spot where we hit the guy. I was hoping I'd never have to go back there.

  "What if it doesn't start?" I ask.

  "I'm sure it will. I'm guessing it's the battery. I should've replaced it when I had the oil changed. We'll jump it and see, but I'm thinking that's the issue."

  On the way there, we stop for fast food but I struggle to finish my burger, already feeling sick knowing we're about to drive past the scene of the crime. When we're almost at that spot, my dad slows down, pointing to some flowers on the side of the road.

  "Looks like some kind of memorial," he says.

  My stomach's clenching, my heart's racing, and I feel like I can't get enough air in my lungs. I've never had a panic attack but I might be having one now.

  "It must be for that man who was hit," my dad says, glancing at the handwritten sign someone put on the side of the road, right next to where we hit the guy. The sign reads, 'Whoever conceals their sins does not prosper, but the one who confesses and renounces them finds mercy. Proverbs 28:13'.

  A chill runs down my spine. It's like whoever left that sign knows what we did, and that we're trying to cover it up. I know that's not actually true but it feels like it, or maybe it's God telling me to turn myself in. I don't even go to church but I feel like God is watching me, waiting for me to do the right thing, and ready to strike me with lightning if I don't.

  "Honey, you okay?" my dad asks.

  I was staring back at the sign but I quickly turn forward again. "Yeah. That was just kind of creepy."

  "It's a shame he got hit but he was putting himself at risk being out here at night. With the sharp curves and no shoulder, I wouldn't even walk on this road in the daytime."

  "You think they'll catch who did it?"

  "I doubt it. There's no cameras out here and I'm guessing they were the only people on the road that time of night, other than whoever drove by later and called it in. Or maybe the guy who hit him called it in. Maybe he felt guilty for leaving the scene and called for an ambulance. But the cops would've already traced the call back to the guy's cellphone and no one's been arrested so it must've just been a good samaritan."

  My heart's racing even more the longer he talks about this, and yet I feel compelled to ask him the question that's bouncing around in my brain, desperate to get out.

  "Would you do it?" I ask, noticing my shaky voice. I need to calm down. I can't have my dad suspecting anything.

  "Do what?" he asks, messing with the air vent on the dash.

  "Would you leave the scene of an accident?"

  "Of course not." He reaches over and gives me a playful shove. "You know me better than that."

  "What if you panicked and left before you had time to think it through? Would you turn yourself into the police? Even if it meant you'd go to prison? Assuming the guy died."

  He glances at me. "Why are you asking me this? You're usually not this morbid."

  "I'm just making conversation. And it's not morbid. It's just a question. It's hypothetical. No one's actually dead."

  He takes a moment to ponder it. "I suppose it would depend on what's at stake."

  "Meaning what?"

  "If the man's already dead, and turning myself in means taking me away from my family, and taking away the income from my job that they rely on to live, then I might not do it."

  "What if you didn't have a family?"

  "I'd like to say I'd turn myself in but I think it would depend on the situation. It's hard to answer because I can't imagine leaving the scene. I couldn't see someone suffering and just drive off. I'd never do that. And I know you wouldn't either. It's just not who we are."

  Guilt fills me, seeping into every crevice of my conscious. My dad's right. I'd never do something like that. And yet I did.

  "Remember when you saw that squirrel in the road with the injured leg?" My dad smiles at me. "Your mother went out there with a shovel and carefully scooped him up while I signaled the cars to stay back?"

  "Yeah, I remember."

  I was only four but I can still see the memory in my head. It's one of the last ones I have of my mom. When I saw the squirrel, I ran in the house screaming for help. My parents thought I was hurt until I told them about the squirrel and how it'd die if we didn't hurry up and help. We ended up taking it to the vet, who fixed its leg and let it stay there until it could go back out in the wild.

  I saved a squirrel, but I left a human being lying in the road. What does that say about me? That I'm a horrible monster? I feel like I am after what my dad just said. If he found out what I did, he'd be so ashamed. He didn't raise me to not help someone.

  We get to the truck and my dad hooks up the jumper cables. He was right. It was the battery. We get it charged and I wait in the truck while he packs everything up.

  "You go ahead," my dad says, standing by my window. "I'll follow behind."

  "Could we go a different way back?"

  He gives me a confused look. "There's only one road to get back. You know that, honey. We've been coming out here your whole life."

  "Yeah," I say with a nervous laugh. "I don't know what I was thinking. I'll see you at home."

  He reaches up to put his hand on my arm. "You okay? You seem off tonight."

  "I'm fine. I'm just tired from studying."

  "You okay to drive back?"

  "Yeah, I'm good. See you at home."

  We drive back, and when I pass that area of the road again, I look straight ahead, not looking at the sign and the flowers marking where the guy was hit. Why did people leave that stuff there? I thought they only did that if the person died.

  What if he did? What if he died today? I have to get home and find out.

  Back at the house I race to my room, telling my dad I'm tired and going to bed. I fire up my laptop and search for any updates but all I find is stuff I've already read.

  I get out my phone and call Briggs. A week ago if you told me I'd be calling Briggs Chadwick III, I would've laughed and told you you're crazy. He's the last person in the world I'd ever want to talk to, and now I'm calling him.

  "Ella?" he says, his voice so
unding groggy.

  "Yeah, were you sleeping?”

  "I was. I fell asleep watching a movie. What's going on?"

  "Is he dead?" I whisper.

  "What? I can't hear you."

  I go in my closet and sit on the floor, facing the wall so there's no chance my dad will hear me.

  "That guy,” I say. "Did he die?"

  "I don't think so. Why? Did you hear something?"

  "No, but I drove by there today on the way to get the truck and there was one of those roadside memorials set up. There were some flowers and a sign with a bible verse on it. People usually only do that when someone dies."

  "I don't think he's dead. Last I heard he's still in intensive care."

  "Did you hear anything else? Did they release his name or anything about him?"

  "No, they still haven't identified him. Who walks around without a wallet or ID? The whole thing seems suspicious."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I don't know, like...maybe he wanted to get hit."

  "What? That's insane."

  "Not if you want to die. What if he was trying to commit suicide?"

  "That's not what he was doing."

  "You don't know that. Why else would he be walking on a dark road at night? Finn swears the guy was in the road when we came around the turn. He had to have heard us coming, and he doesn't get out of the way?"

  "I don't think it was suicide. And what does that have to do with him not having ID?"

  "If you're killing yourself you don't need your wallet."

  I hear a man yelling something in the background and banging on a door.

  "I have to go." Briggs ends the call.

  That was abrupt, not that I wanted to keep talking to him.

  Tomorrow we'll all be back at school and I've been wondering what will happen. Will the guys be their usual asshole selves or will they treat me differently now that we're drawn together by this secret?

  The next day, my question is answered at my locker. Something's stuck in it and if I don't get it open soon I'm going to be late to class.