by Kai Juniper
"If you would've stuck around, you would've found out. I can't believe you ditched me like that."
"Ella, you know I can't be around them. I get too nervous."
"And yet you were going to go to their party and hang out with Briggs."
We stop at my locker and she leans against the one next to mine, a dreamy look on her face. "I feel like Briggs isn't as bad as we think, like somewhere inside him there's a sweet, romantic guy just waiting to come out."
I stare at her. "Sweet? Romantic? We're talking about Briggs Chadwick, III, right? The guy who told everyone in school that I had a mental disorder and a contagious skin condition?"
"That was years ago. We were kids, and kids do stupid things."
"We weren't kids, and it was more than just stupid. He made me an outcast at school. And what about all the other things he did? People have been calling me Trailer Girl for three years because of him. And what about what he's done recently, like planting drugs in my locker? The list is endless, and you're defending this guy?"
"You're right." She shakes her head. "He's horrible. I think his looks are clouding my judgment."
"Yeah, well, looks can be deceiving." I check my phone and see it's almost noon. "I'll see you later."
"Wait—aren't we having lunch?"
"I can't today. I need to do something."
"What do you need to do?"
"Study for a test."
"I'll walk to the library with you."
"No. You don't need to. Just go ahead to lunch."
She looks at me like she knows something's going on.
"I'll see you after school," I tell her.
"Yeah. Okay." She walks off, but looks back. I remain at my locker, pretending to put stuff away. She can't know I'm going to meet Briggs, not after that speech I just gave her. Telling her that reminded me of all the horrible things Briggs has done to me over the years. Why did I even let myself think he could change? He wasn't being nice to me last week. He was making sure I didn't turn him and his friends in for hitting that guy. But why would he think I'd turn them in? It'd be my word against theirs, and they'd make sure I was the one who got in trouble. Maybe that's why they're bullying me again, because they know I can't win.
When I get to the bleachers, Briggs isn't there. I walk around to the back and feel someone grab me from behind. I know it's him by the way I fit in his arms, and by that flutter in my stomach that happens when we're close like this. I hate that he makes my body react this way, but I can't seem to stop it.
"You can't be texting me anymore," he says, his mouth by my ear. "You need to stop."
I try to turn around but he keeps me where I am, my back against his chest, his arms crossed over my body. A couple weeks ago, I would've been scared of what he's doing to me, but now I feel strangely calm being in his arms.
"Why can’t I text you?" I ask.
"It's too risky. But that's not what I wanted to talk about."
"Then what is it? Did something happen?"
"Finn talked to the insurance guy and managed to not fuck it up. The guy believed his story and said he'd finish filing the claim."
"So it's over?"
"There's no way they could trace this back to us. The damage to the Range Rover's been fixed and we have it on record that it was caused by Finn hitting a telephone pole. And it's been over a week. If the cops were going to get us, it would've happened by now. They aren't going to keep wasting their time trying to find whoever hit a guy who was either drunk, high, or just some wandering homeless dude." He pauses. "It's over."
I feel his arms relax and shove them off me, turning to face him. "So what does that mean? For us?"
His eyes lock on mine and I swear I see regret in them, but regret for what? For doing what we did? Or is it regret for whatever he's about to say?
"We can't do this, Ella." He looks down at the ground, then back at me. "It never should've happened."
"So what now?" I put my hands on my hips, my eyes burning from the tears threatening to fall. I hate Briggs, but for those brief moments we spent together, just the two of us, I actually liked him, more than I've ever liked a guy. I felt something for him, something other than anger and hate. It doesn't make sense, and I'm furious at myself for feeling that way about him, but it happened and I'm not ready to give it up.
"We go back to how things were."
"Back to treating me like shit? Really?" A humorless laugh follows as I turn away from him and take a few steps forward. "I thought you were different. I was starting to believe that you didn't really want to treat me the way you did all these years. I thought I saw something good in you, Briggs, but I guess it was all an act." I turn to face him. "You were just keeping me in line so I'd keep my mouth shut."
He doesn't say anything, but his eyes lock on mine.
"When did you guys decide this?" I ask. "Did the three of you meet this morning and decide today was the day to start harassing me again?"
He doesn't answer, and it hurts. It hurts that he's not saying anything. I just want an explanation, but he’s not giving me one. I want him to tell me that last weekend didn't mean anything, that it was all an act. At least that would make sense. But his silence makes me wonder if it wasn’t all an act, but if it wasn’t, then why is he doing this?
"What's next?" I say, walking up to him. "You assault me behind the building? Rape me if I don't agree to give you the valedictorian title?"
His jaw tightens. "I would never do that. You know I wouldn't."
"Do I?" I tilt my head, looking up at him. "Because apparently you can be whoever you want depending on the situation. Like now. You're not the guy I hung out with last weekend. The guy I was..." I swallow and look down at the ground. "The guy I was starting to actually like."
"Ella, I'm not—" He takes a breath. "Let's just go."
My eyes lift back to his. "Go ahead. I'll wait behind. I wouldn't want you being seen with the trash."
"That's not what I think of you."
"And yet it's what you call me." I hold his gaze a second longer, then turn away. "Bye, Briggs."
I hear him walking away, and when I know he's gone, I drop to my knees and let the tears that were stinging my eyes break loose. Why I'm crying over Briggs Chadwick makes absolutely no sense, but life doesn't always make sense. If it did, it wouldn't have taken my mom from me. It wouldn't have me going to a school with kids who have multimillion dollar trust funds and making me sweep the grass off their precious sidewalks. And it wouldn't have made my heart fall so freaking hard for a guy who goes out of his way to hurt me.
I can’t believe I fell for Briggs. How did I let this happen? How could I be so stupid?
When I get home from school I go in my room and take a nap, exhausted from the day, and the whole past week. I wish I could go back in time and erase last week from my memories. I want to go back to knowing Briggs as the asshole bully that I hate, and nothing more. I want back the part of my heart that I exposed to him, and then had crushed by the reality of who he really is and always was—a cold, heartless bully who never felt anything for me.
A knock on my door wakes me up. "Honey, can I come in?"
"Yeah, go ahead." I sit up, rubbing my eyes.
My dad opens the door and comes in my room. "Were you sleeping?"
"Yeah, it was a long day." I check the clock. It's after six. I didn't plan to sleep that long. I was only going to nap for an hour.
He sits down on my bed. "Can we talk?"
"Um, okay," I say, not liking the sound of that. I move so I'm sitting next to him. "What's going on?"
He looks down at his hands in his lap and I notice his wedding ring is off. It's never off.
"I've been thinking a lot about your mom lately."
"What about her?"
"About something she said before she passed." He swallows. "About me moving on."
I wait for him to continue.
"She told me she didn't want me to be alone." He looks at me, smiling. "And I sa
id 'I'm not alone. I have our baby girl', but she said that wasn't enough. That I needed a partner because someday you'd move away and I'd be alone again." He looks back at his hands, looking down at the spot where his ring used to be. It's now a thick white line, the rest of his hands a dark tan from the sun.
"Dad, what are you saying?"
He turns to me. "I met someone. Actually I've known her for a while now. We go to the same coffee shop every morning. She's an early bird, like me. We're usually the only two people there at five in the morning."
"Yeah, you've told me about her. She's divorced, no kids. Is that who you're talking about?"
"Yes." He nods. "Her name is Susan. She's a very nice woman, around my age. Anyway, we've been friends for a few months now, and, well, the other day I kind of...asked her out on a date."
"Oh." I take a moment to process this. My dad wants to date? I shouldn't be surprised by that but I am because he's never talked about dating anyone until now.
"I should've said something sooner, but I didn't want to upset you. You've never seen me with anyone but your mom and I wasn't sure if you'd be okay with this."
"Dad, of course I'm okay with it. I didn't expect you to be alone your whole life. I'm happy you found someone."
He smiles, and there's this light to his eyes that I don't remember seeing before. "I really like her, honey. I hope you do too."
"When do I get to meet her?"
"Well, that's the other thing I wanted to tell you. I'd planned to have you meet her next week but I'm seeing her tonight and I was wondering if you'd be okay with meeting her now. I know it's soon but—"
"I'd love to meet her. When will she be here?"
"In about twenty minutes, depending on traffic." There's a knock on the door and my dad gets up from the bed. "She's early. Ella, if you're not ready for this, I understand. You can always meet her some other time."
"Dad, stop worrying and go answer the door. I'll be out there in a minute."
He leaves and I go to the mirror to fix my hair after sleeping on it.
I'm getting ready to meet my dad's date. My dad is dating.
Seriously, what is going on? If this day gets any stranger I'm going to assume it's all a dream and hope I wake up soon.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Ella
I go in the living room and see a pretty blond woman standing next to my dad. She looks fit, like she works out a lot. Her hair is short and she's not wearing much makeup. She has on jeans and a casual, button-up shirt. She's exactly the type of woman I could see being with my dad. He'd never date someone who shows up in a fancy dress and heels, her face coated with makeup. That's just not his type.
"You must be Ella," Susan says, walking up to me to shake my hand.
"And you're Susan?"
"I am." She smiles back at my dad. "I hope your father told you at least a little about me."
"Ella knows we meet up at the coffee shop every morning," my dad says, "but that's about it." He comes up beside Susan, putting his hand on her back. "I was hoping you could tell her more but we don't have much time. We need to be going soon."
Susan looks back at me. “We originally planned to go out next week but a friend of mine at work had concert tickets he couldn't use so I asked your father if he'd like to go. I was hoping to give you more time before we met but then I got these tickets and—"
"It's fine. I don't need time. So where do you work?"
"I'm a police officer, or I was. I was recently promoted to investigations. I'm still in training but so far I'm loving it."
"She was assigned her first case last week." My dad puts his arm around her, which makes me uncomfortable but I guess I just have to get used to it. I don't mind him dating someone. I just wish he'd told me sooner than five minutes before meeting her.
"It's nothing too exciting," she says. "But it's a good starter case."
"It's that one we were talking about," my dad says to me. "Remember when we went to get your truck and we passed by where that man was hit?"
"Yeah?" I feel my throat tightening up and my heart thumping faster. "What about it?"
"That's the case I've been assigned," Susan says. "It was a hit-and-run."
"Why....why are you looking into it? I mean, didn't it happen weeks ago?" I hear how nervous I sound and try to calm down, but how can I when the woman my dad is dating could be the woman putting me in jail?
"It doesn't matter when it happened. We have cases from years ago that we're still looking into. As for this particular case, we're just getting started. We have all the body shops in town reporting back to us about any vehicles that come in with damages. The man's clothing had traces of paint on it from the vehicle so we know it was from a white car or truck."
"Do you have any suspects?"
"We do, but I'm not able to talk about that."
"C'mon," I say, smiling. "Just tell me. I can keep a secret."
"Well, I suppose I can keep it generic and just say that we believe it was a white pickup truck."
"A pickup," I say, feeling relieved. "Well, I hope you find whoever did it. If you do, what happens to the person?"
"That'll be up to the judge but it could mean several years in prison if the victim doesn't survive. But it's looking like he might be okay."
"He's getting better?"
She nods. "He woke up a few hours ago. I'll be going to speak with him later tonight or tomorrow, whenever he's feeling up to it."
He's going to tell her what we did. What if he remembers the Range Rover? What if he wasn't really passed out that night and saw us standing over his body? He could've opened his eyes long enough to see us. Or maybe he heard us. Did we call each other by name? I can't remember.
I'm feeling lightheaded. I need to get out of here. I have to talk to Briggs.
"I should let you guys get to your concert. It was nice meeting you!" I hurry to my room.
"We'll be home around eleven!" my dad yells as I close my door.
"Okay!" I yell back. "Have fun!"
I call Briggs but he doesn't answer. I text him. We need to talk. It can't wait.
He doesn't text back.
I hear the front door open and close as my dad and Susan leave. I go to the living room to make sure they're gone.
How is this possible? Out of all the women my dad could date, he picks a cop? An investigator looking for whoever was involved in the hit-and-run, which happens to be me?
Briggs still hasn't texted me. Rugby practice is over. Maybe he's at the gym. I text him again but get nothing back. Desperate to reach him, I text Parker. Do you know where Briggs is?
He texts right back. Home. Why?
I grab my keys and run out to my truck. I speed down the road to Briggs' house and pull up to the gate. I bring up the text Briggs sent me with the code. I punch it in and wait for the gate to open. I probably should've pushed the call button and asked Briggs to open the gate instead of putting in the code but given how he acted earlier, I didn't think he'd let me in.
Pulling around to the front of the house, I park the truck and run to the door. I ring the bell and wait. Seconds pass and nobody answers. I knock on the door. "Briggs, open the door! I need to talk to you! It's an emergency!"
The door swings opens and I see Briggs standing there, an angry look on his face and blood on the side of his lip.
"What do you want?" he says.
"What happened?" I reach up to touch his lip. "You're bleeding."
He shoves my hand away and wipes his mouth. "What the fuck do you want?"
"I need to talk to you. Can I come inside?"
"You get five minutes and then I want you gone." He steps aside.
What's going on with him? Why is he so angry, and why is his face a mess? His lip's still bleeding and it looks swollen, like he got in a fight.
"My dad just introduced me to his girlfriend," I say.
"You banged on my door to tell me that?"
"No, there's more. The woman is a cop, or she w
as. Now she's a detective and she's been assigned to the hit-and-run. She's looking for who did it."
"She told you this?"
"Yes, and she said the guy we hit woke up a few hours ago."
"Fuck." Briggs rubs his jaw, which pulls on his lip, making it bleed more.
"She said she's going to go talk to him tonight or tomorrow. What if he tells her about us?"
"He wasn't conscious that night. He was passed out."
"We think he was unconscious but what if we're wrong? What if he was conscious enough to hear what we were saying? Or what if he opened his eyes long enough to identify us?"
"It was dark. There's no way he would've seen us well enough to identify us. It's not even an issue because he was definitely passed out. You don't get slammed into with a vehicle that size and remain conscious."
"She said they're checking with body shops. What if that place that worked on the Range Rover kept records and gave them to the police?"
"Did she say they had any suspects?"
"She couldn't give me details but she said they think a white truck did it."
"So then what are you freaking out about? They're looking for a truck, not a Range Rover."
"They're not that different."
"They're totally different. You need to stop worrying about this. It's over. The cops will look for the truck, never find it, and close the case."
"I guess, but—"
"Ella, I can't keep talking about this. It's over. You gotta let it go. You're going to create more problems if you keep obsessing over this, and your dad's new girlfriend's going to notice. You need to calm the fuck down and act like it never happened."
"Easier said than done."
"You want to go to prison?"
"Of course not."
"Then keep your mouth shut and don't talk about this ever again. It's over." He opens the door. "You need to go."
I walk out of the house to my truck, feeling sick with guilt that I'm part of this horrible secret. What if the man doesn't recover? Susan said he's getting better but what if he gets worse again? What if he dies?
"Ella!" Briggs yells as I'm getting in my truck.