by Nina Lincoln
Fucking Colt and my fan inspire some seriously shitty life choices.
Still, I can’t help but to ponder Colt’s words and his vehemence in demanding that I never mention his stepmother or whatever she is again. Why does he hate her so much?
Sighing, I run my hands down my face. I knew he had issues with his dad and the fucked-up situation, but the sheer hatred in his eyes at the mention of her makes me wonder how that came about. And do I care?
Referring to her as rich bitch definitely makes the wheels turn, though. It’s been a question rolling around in my brain since the first time he referenced her that way. Can it all be a coincidence?
Chapter Two
The following week brings much of the same from Colt, although his icy cold demeanor is back in place, and he mostly ignores me even if I feel his brooding gaze on me in every class we now share.
I can only assume his attitude is directly related to the mention of his stepmother and our heated argument. Still, since I know only the basics of what is a very complicated and sordid relationship, I have no clue what’s made him angry.
This is only further proof that our relationship was surface only and another reminder of Colt’s inability to feel.
Colt runs from vulnerability like a child from a rabid dog, which is to say, he’d rather die than expose himself. I convinced myself our relationship was too new, and it would take time, but as it turned out, he wasn’t planning on a relationship at all.
I'm assuming he’s licking his wounds after revealing his complete hatred of her because he makes sure to go out of his way to be an ass. This includes flirting with every bitch in heat while looking my way with a frigid smile.
I ignore it as much as I can, but I’m getting tired of the pretense. And what happened to Sarah?
I thought she was his girlfriend?
I’m also still avoiding Hayden to his amusement. Just this morning, he stepped up beside me while I walked down the hall and said, “You still think I’m the enemy?”
“At this point, I don’t know what to think,” I muttered, “but you can’t deny that you’ve been friends with Colt for years. Did he even need me to ask for your number, or did he already have it?”
During our brief sojourn dating, Colt asked me to ask Nate for Hayden's number, and at that time, I thought nothing of it. Why would I? But Hayden and Colt seem really fucking cozy every day at their lunch table, leading me to believe even that was a lie.
Hayden laughed loudly, and I glared at him. Needless to say, I didn’t appreciate his amusement.
“I have no idea whether he had my number. I haven’t changed it, that’s for sure. But rest assured, little fighter, we haven’t been friends since sophomore year.”
“Is that right?”
“Yep, we had a difference of opinion, you might say,” he snickered.
“Which would be what?”
“Nothing that concerns you. I’m still available if you want to make him jealous,” Hayden said with a smirk before walking away.
Shaking my head, I headed to my next class, storm clouds brewing in my aching head.
At lunch, I escape to the library, now avoiding Nate because I’m dreading the coming discussion and possibly hurting his feelings. I can’t fucking win with these guys.
Instead, I while away my lunch in the library, lamenting the fact that I don’t have Teddy to spend it with, and even though we text back and forth, it's not the same. I miss seeing Teddy’s friendly face and happy smile.
The week passes uneventfully beyond Colt’s brooding, and I hide away over the weekend, studying up as best I can and visiting Mom’s grave.
By Sunday, I’m back at the table with Maggie, eating our obligatory breakfast together and eyeing her cigarette distastefully.
“Well, kid. How’s the week gone?” she rasps, raising her dark brow at me.
Maggie’s an older, harsher version of my mom, with hard blue eyes and dark hair turning grey at the temples. At times I’m bewildered by the differences between her and my mom, but she’s grown on me since I came here so unexpectedly.
“It's okay,” I say idly, chewing my eggs quietly.
I’ve not spoken about Colt to her, but she's sure to have noticed he hasn’t been around. Thankfully, she’s not the type to pry, unlike Mom, who would’ve already made me a cup of hot chocolate in an effort to bribe it out of me.
It's a different sort of existence, but in many ways, Maggie gives me the comfort I need without knowing it. Perhaps she’s teaching me how to be independent and strong. Maybe she doesn’t know how to be any other way. I don't know, but it's working so far anyway.
“No new notes?” she asks.
“No,” I hesitate, looking up at her through my lashes. “Well, I’ve gotten a few texts, but I don't know if it's him or not.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she demands, holding out her hand for my phone.
Shamefaced, I hand it over, explaining, “I don't know. Because I just want this to be over. Besides, I’m sure whoever sent it from a phone that can't be traced, meaning there will be nothing the cops can do.” I end my sentence with a sarcastic lilt, which she doesn’t appreciate if her stern look is anything to go by.
Scrolling through the messages, she frowns and looks up at me. “Fuck you? Kid, I don’t think it’s a good idea to enrage the weirdo. We don’t know what we’re dealing with here. You’re safe with the alarm, but what about at school? Maybe Colt can keep an eye out?”
Snorting, I slap my hands over my mouth and then laugh and laugh until tears stream from my eyes. Apparently, I haven’t spent enough time processing my pain because my reaction is nothing short of hysterical.
Maggie looks at me like I`ve lost my mind, and maybe I have because the laughter just won't end.
“Okay, okay, what’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” I gasp, “it's just, Colt’s been my enemy since day one. He hates me. I don't know why, but with the way he’s acted recently, I don't think he’d be up for the job.”
She cocks her head to the side, eyeing me for a moment before saying, “Colt’s had his issues, I’ll bet. It can’t be easy living his life.”
Frowning, I mutter, “It doesn't excuse his behavior.”
She nods, contemplative, “Kid, I shouldn't be telling you this, but...Colt's home life is different.”
Snorting, I intervene before she can stumble any further, “If you’re trying to tell me his mom and dad are married even though his dad is married to someone else, you can save it.”
She raises a brow, “He told you that?”
“Not in so many words,” I mutter. “How is it that you know?”
“Well, Celia and I got drunk on apple wine once, and she spilled the beans.”
“Oh.”
“Anyway, he found out the hard way, a couple of years ago about his dad’s first wife. He’s been a bit out of control since.”
So, Colt didn’t know his whole life? I’m not sure which is worse, being lied to or knowing the entire time. He’s close to his mother, too - this must have torn him up but good. Still, I have to stay the course, he’s a dick, and I have to remember that.
“Out of control - how?” I ask curiously.
“Well, per Celia, he gets in fights at school, runs around with the bad kids. Refuses to have anything to do with his dad, not that I blame him,” she says with a sour expression.
“Yes, well, it doesn't excuse his behavior. He’s been really cruel to me, just, not nice, and I’d prefer to leave him out of this.”
She nods slowly, and the talk turns away from Colt, but I can't help my circling thoughts the rest of the day, wondering how he initially took the news. It must have been devastating to learn your entire life is a lie.
Somehow Buck must’ve known because I found the pictures of Buck and Celia together. Does this mean the first wife knows? And if so, did Colt meet her? It would explain his violent reaction to the mention of her the other night.
*****
<
br /> Later that day, I meet up with Teddy beaming when I see his cherubic face through the coffee shop window.
His pretty jade-colored eyes meet mine, so like his sister Ramie’s, as he greets me, “Finn!”
Clutching my coffee, I sit opposite him with a happy smile. “Oh my god, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you!”
“I know! Spill,” he says.
“Spill what?” I laugh.
“Start with prom. Was that you?”
Flushing, I smile sheepishly, “Well…”
After walking through the events of prom, skating over the stalker issue, I finally cave. If I can’t trust Teddy, who can I trust?
“Teddy,” I say.
Sensing my hesitation, he cocks his head to the side and smiles at me softly.
“I have something to tell you. Um…”
“What is it?” he asks, his smile fading to concern.
“Remember the notes I mentioned before?”
“Yeah, I haven’t heard anything out of the ordinary, by the way.”
“Oh,” I say with a pulse of disappointment.
I finally told him about the notes just after I transferred. Call it pride, but I didn’t want him to think I left North because of Colt. I skated over the details, though, because I just want a normal relationship with Teddy that doesn’t include all the bullshit I’m constantly fighting.
“You seem really worried. What’s going on?”
“Well, I kind of didn’t tell you everything about the notes. They're more threatening than I let on.”
“What! How Finn?”
“It’s hard to explain. I’ve been getting weird notes about how whoever and I were meant to be together. And other weird stuff, like dead animals.”
“Oh shit, that’s scary,” he exclaims.
“I know,” I exhale, “I thought it was Colt. I saw some stuff that made me think it’s him. But now I don’t know, and I’m scared, Teddy.”
“Oh, Finn, I’m so sorry. What can I do?”
“Just keep your ears open. Surely the creep is saying something to someone!” I exclaim. “Whoever is doing this, they have to be acting weird, right? Fuck, I don’t know.”
“What made you think it’s Colt?”
“I think whoever it is, he approached me the night before prom, and he dropped something that I recognized, but Colt denies it was him, and I got a few texts. It’s all so confusing,” I say, running my hand over my forehead, fighting back tears.
“Oh Finn, I wish I could do more, but we’ll figure this out. Maybe we just need to start with what we do know?”
“Which is what?”
“Tell me everything you’ve received. When and where you got them, and we’ll try to eliminate people based on that.”
“Teddy, you’re a genius!”
He flushes under my admiration, and we set about writing it all down, and although we’re no closer by the time we leave, I feel better with a direction.
Unfortunately, the notes were left on my desk, and I don’t always remember the exact dates, but Teddy promises to see if he can find out if any students were absent during the times I do remember. Still, it could be anyone, even someone I don’t really know, although I have my doubts because the fucker knows more about me and my actions than he should.
*****
I shuffle to school Monday morning grumpily, no closer to finding closure with what I found out about Colt. I need to be able to shut off every speck of feeling I have for the gorgeous asshat, but with each new revelation, it gets harder and harder.
It doesn’t change the face of his cruelty, but it does a better job of explaining it. Did he hate me because of her? His rich bitch stepmother? And if so, why? What did she do to him? Frankly, she’s just as much a victim of Colt’s dad's machinations as his own mother, but I know he doesn't see it that way.
Learning your whole life is a lie after years of living it, couldn’t have been easy, and although it’s foolish, I still feel bad about how he received the news. I’m curious how he learned the truth and why he seems to hate Buck so much.
It’s all downright sordid, which makes my emotions all the more confusing.
When I realize Colt’s absent, I can’t decide if I’m relieved or sad, and when the following three days fly by with no sight of him, I start to wonder if he’s back at North. Perhaps he gave up and in. Perhaps, his vendetta is finally over. You’d think I would be relieved, but no, I’m fucking devastated. Why? Because I’m fucked in the head.
Having Colt come after me meant I was still in his head, and if he’s given up, then I’ll be nothing more than a footnote soon. Gah. I need serious counseling.
By Friday, I’m moping, and I’ve ignored everyone in favor of being alone.
Walking to my car absently, I miss Nate standing beside it until he’s right on top of me.
“Hey, pretty girl,” he greets me cheerfully.
I smile halfheartedly, my stomach sinking at his eager expression. Here it comes. He’s going to ask me out or something equally wrong, and I’m going to have to let him down again. This time, he may not be so understanding, and I guess I can hardly blame him. I used him to get to Colt at prom, and he, I’m sure, misread every single one of my signals.
“Hey,” I whisper, waiting for the bomb to drop. But I’m saved, literally when Hayden intervenes, stepping between Nate and me to say, “Where are you off to, little Finn? I thought we had plans?”
Staring at him with confusion, I blink and flush under his stare as he winks at me slowly. Turning my gaze back to Nate, I spy a look of sheer hatred on his face for Hayden before he turns back to me with an angry look and mutters, “See you around.”
Staring at his back helplessly, a little disturbed by his rancor, I turn to Hayden and say with narrowed eyes, “What was that for?”
“Just looking out for my homeboy, Colt,” he smirks, leaning against my car.
“Your homeboy,” I sputter, “What does that even mean?”
“Just giving him time to come around, he will eventually. He just needs a nudge now and then.”
“Hayden, if this is some misplaced attempt to play matchmaker, I’ma kick your ass. Colt is not my Prince Charming. We’re not gonna be together. This isn’t some weird, twisted version of a romance novel.”
He chuckles, looking over his shoulder, and, with dread, I spin my head around, meeting Colt’s steely gaze. “No romance, Baby? I’m hurt. I thought I gave you all the romance you needed.”
With no little sarcasm, I say, opening my car door and nudging a laughing Hayden out of my way, “Romance, Colt? Yeah, I think that’s right up there with I love you. Feeling the heat yet? Run away like the cowardly little ass you are, hm?”
I’m seething, so when Colt’s brows lower over his eyes in a matching response, all I feel is triumph. Fuck you, Colt. And fuck you, Hayden.
I’ve calmed down by the time I get home, and I refuse to acknowledge the excitement I feel that Colt was back on campus today.
*****
Melissa and I go to the beach on Saturday, bringing a few drinks and a blanket to while away the day. It's still cold, so we’re not swimming, but it’s nice to sit by the waves and chat.
She’s surprisingly deep, and I enjoy our time when no one else is around to inspire her prickly exterior. Although we’ve only touched on the subject of her home life, much like everyone else, there’s plenty of dysfunction to choose from, which makes you wonder if anyone has a normal life.
When she was deep down into the alcohol at the last party, she let slip that her mom is dying from cancer. I’ve been afraid to bring it up since because she shut down as soon as she said it, but my heart aches for the pain she must be experiencing. The death of a parent changes you forever. I should know. I still felt the ache in my soul when the remembrance caught up with me.
“So, have you thought about what I owe you?” I ask, slurping on a whiskey and coke, heavy on the whiskey. I swear this bitch is intent on getting me drun
k whenever I’m around her.
She glances my way, lowering her glasses and glowering at me. Once upon a time, that look would’ve made me shit my pants, now I just smile at her sweetly.
“Not really. You got a lot of money or something?”
“Seriously?” I guffaw, “Everyone’s been calling me rich bitch for months. What do you think?”
“Humph, just because that’s what people say doesn't mean it's true,” she grumbles.
“Yeah, I guess that’s true. But yes, I have some money. Most is tied up in a trust until I turn eighteen anyway. But I meant what I said. Whatever you want, it's yours,” I say firmly.
She nods slowly and looks away before looking back with a hesitant expression, “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure,” I quip, although I’m already dreading what’s next based on her look. She’s not usually reticent about saying what’s on her mind, so it must be bad.
“I heard, um, about your dad. You were there? When it happened?”
“Hm,” I say, turning away to hide my sour expression.
This is not where I thought this conversation was going. Frankly, I’d take her trying to kick my ass again over this, but Melissa’s been nothing but honest with me. I owe it to her to be the same.
“Well, yes. I was.”
“Will you tell me? What happened?”
With a blank stare, I process her request. Can I do this? Do I want to?
After a protracted silence, she shifts uncomfortably, and I cut her off when she opens her mouth with an apology in her eyes.
“Okay,” I whisper, catching my breath at the pain pulsing in my chest.
“It was a bad day. Just, you know, one of those days that’s off. I don't know. I came home, and the house was so quiet, so empty. I couldn't find my mom anywhere. Finally, I gave up and went to my room, assuming she went to the store or something. It wasn't until hours later when I heard screaming startup, that I realized they were both home. While I sat in my room and scrolled through social media, gossiping with my friends via text, he had her tied to their bed. He - he raped her. Over and over.”