Chapter Twenty-four
No. No more. Not again. I couldn’t go through that again. Especially on the one day when Elijah wasn’t here with me. But I was already in the damn room. How the hell was I supposed to get out without him stopping me?
Panic made it difficult to breathe. Bile crept up the back of my throat as a phantom hand brushed over my shoulders and chest. I couldn’t go through that again. Mainly because I wasn’t certain I wouldn’t give in this time.
“Mr. Parson?” My hand shot up disrupting the class.
“Yes, Miss. Stark?”
“May I use the bathroom, please?” He couldn’t deny me. Not in front of all these witnesses.
He deliberated for a minute, but came to the same conclusion I had. “Fine, but be sure to come back.”
Yeah, like that was about to happen. Abandoning my stuff to the janitorial crew, I got the hell out of Dodge. I practically sprinted down the hall—much to the amusement of several of my classmates—and right past the restroom. I didn’t even realize where I was headed until I found myself outside, behind the gym. Too bad all my supplies were at home. I considered leaving early, but the senior lot was locked up during school hours. There wasn’t that much time left. I’d just wait until the bell rang. I could wait that long.
But how long could I hide? Sooner or later, I’d have to go back into Mr. Parson’s room. Sooner or later, he’d get me alone again. My entire body started to shake and I needed to hear Elijah’s voice. But—goddammit—I’d left the freaking cellphone in my backpack. Collapsing on the grass, I wrapped my arms around my legs and I rocked, trying to keep the hysterics at bay. I couldn’t break down. Not here. Not because of him. I wouldn’t give him that much of me.
Everything will be okay. Elijah promised. Elijah will fix this. It will be fine. Everything will be okay.
My breaths came in short gasps and my head started spinning before I realized I was having a panic attack. Shit. I hadn’t had one of those since middle school. Dropping my head between my knees, tears streamed down my face as I tried to force myself to breathe evenly.
“Rylie? Are you okay?” Declan stood over me looking altogether freaked out by my appearance. “Fuck. Are you on some kind bad trip?”
Of all people, it had to be him that found me. I shook my head roughly.
“Shit, girl. Then what the hell’s wrong with you?”
I couldn’t catch my breath long enough to answer, so I just shook my head again.
“You don’t want to tell me, that’s fine, but it’s not drugs?”
“No.” My voice came out frantic and raw.
“Alright.” He crouched in front of me and pushed my shoulders up until I was leaning back against the side of the building. “Sit back. Open your lungs up more and take a deep breath.”
I tried, I really did, but my lungs wouldn’t accept more that shallow gasps.
“You need to calm down.” He let go of my shoulder and the loss of a familiar touch—even Declan’s—made my chest tighten up all over again. That is until I saw the joint he pulled from his backpack. Relief washed over me at just the sight of my saving grace. “This should help.”
It took a few tries to get a decent lungful, but when I did the effects were almost immediate. The steel band wrapped around my chest, constricting my lungs, eased away, and I started breathing normally. I took a few more selfish pulls and the shaking ceased.
“That’s better.” Declan dropped from his crouch to sit beside me on the grass. “You want me to call Eli?”
“No. He’s sick.”
“Sick or not, I think he’d want me to call him—”
“Don’t bother him. I’m fine now.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” I tried to hand him back the joint, but he waved it away.
“Finish it. You look like you could use it.”
“Thanks.”
We sat quietly for a while as the tension in my body continued to ease. The final bell rang and sounds of people breaking free for the weekend reached us from the other side of the building.
“Everything okay, now?”
“Yeah, I just have some shit I need to deal with at home.” Dad was going to have my head for this one.
“Want me to give you a ride?”
“No. I can drive.” Declan watched me like he was trying to decide if that was true. “Really.”
“If you say so, but hey . . . after you deal with whatever shit you gotta deal with at home, call Elijah. Talk to him.”
“I will.” I couldn’t get a read on Declan. He looked genuinely concerned about me, but I couldn’t understand why. It’s not like we’d ever had anything in common. “Declan?”
“Huh?”
“Why did you do all of this for me?”
He shrugged. “It ain’t no secret I’ve never been your biggest fan, but Eli’s my best friend and he cares about you.”
“I care about him, too.”
“I know you do. That’s why I’m done giving you crap.”
“Really?”
“Well . . . we’ll see.”
I laughed and reached for Declan’s offered hand just as voices came around the corner.
“What’s that smell?”
The voices were quickly followed by the bodies of Mrs. Simmons, the gym teacher, and a man I didn’t recognize. Declan and I froze, but it was too late. The joint still dangled from my fingertips.
We were screwed.
Chapter Twenty-five
“You gonna be okay?” Declan spoke quietly as we sat side-by-side in the main office while our parents, who had been called in to collect us, spoke with Principal Barnes.
“You know that shit I had to deal with at home? It just got a whole lot shittier.” My life was officially over.
Declan nodded his understanding as an irate man—presumably Declan’s dad—came storming out of the office. “Up. Now. Move it.”
I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye before he was marched out of the school. Moments later, my parents completed the same routine.
Following behind my seething father, I tried to decide what to say. Or if I should just keep my mouth shut entirely. “I—”
“Not a word. I don’t want to hear a single word until we get home.”
Well, that decided that. I fidgeted silently in the backseat, avoiding eye contact with either of my parents. Not hard since neither of them would look at me.
It wasn’t until after the front door closed, hiding us from prying eyes, that the fireworks started.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” My father’s roar rattled the picture frames.
“I—”
“I don’t want to hear apologizes. I don’t want to hear promises or excuses. I don’t even want to see your face right now. Go to your room!”
I was desperate to get this over with, but I knew that what awaited me in my room would make it easier to deal with. Slamming my door shut behind me—mostly for dramatic effect—I opened the window and pulled out my supplies.
By the time I finished my second joint in as many hours, I possessed more courage than I probably should have. My head was spinning and I’d definitely reached my ‘happy place’. I was going to finish this now. Before I came back down.
Stumbling downstairs, I sought my father out where I knew he would be—sitting behind the desk in his office. His daughter’s life was falling apart, but there was work to do.
“What are you doing in here?” He lifted his gaze to glower at me over his laptop.
“You want to know the truth?”
“What are you—?”
“I used the drugs to cope with the stress. From all the pressure you put on me.”
“I don’t—”
“I failed another chemistry test today.”
“You what?”
“This one I deserved to fail. I didn’t study.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because I studied my ass off last time. I studied and studie
d and studied, and got every single question right, just like you wanted me to.”
“If you aced it then how did you end up with a D?” He squinted at me, leaning forward slightly in his seat. “Why are your eyes so red? Are you—?”
“Because he hit on me.”
“What?”
“Mr. Parson. He told me to stay after class and when we were alone, he hit on me. He accused me of cheating and-and he . . . touched me.”
“Bullshit!” My father burst from his chair. “Just look at you! Your eyes are completely bloodshot. You’re higher than you were before. Were you using that shit here? In my house?"
He stormed past me and right up to my room. I followed, stunned silent by the response I honestly hadn’t expected. I really thought that when I finally had the courage to come clean, he’d understand.
“I spoke with Coach Stabler. He told us you haven’t been running or working out. So where have you been? Getting high with your friends? With that boy? Elijah Prince? Principal Barnes warned us about him. Is that who got you into this mess in the first place?” He continued to rant as he tore apart my room. I just stood back and watched him do it. “You’re a liar, Rylie. Is that what this story about Mr. Parson is, another lie? Or one of your drug induced hallucinations? I won’t have you destroying a man’s career with your lying filth. And you are not to see that boy again. Ever.”
“No!” That knocked me out of my shocked haze. “I love him.”
“You’re seventeen. You don’t even know what love is.”
“I know what it isn’t! I know it isn’t refusing to believe your own daughter when she tells you something awful happened to her!”
He stopped and turned to face me, deceptively calm. “I have no reason to believe a single word that comes out of your mouth. You are a disgrace to this family.” His words slammed into me as violently as he flipped my mattress across the room.
The mostly empty quarter bag lay on the floor and he scooped it up with murder in his eyes. I knew what he was going to do, but I couldn’t stop from following him as he stormed across the hall and dumped it in the toilet. It was like watching the only peace I knew get flushed down the drain, and with that came the despair.
“Look at what you’ve become.”
A disappointment. A liar. A disgrace.
“You’ve been suspended from school. You’re lucky we were able to convince them not to call the police on either of you, but you will not be seeing those people again. You are grounded from here on out. One of us will be keeping watch at all times, and no more phone.” His fists clenched, punctuating each of his next devastating words with a firm knock to the doorframe. “You will not see, hear, or speak to Elijah Prince ever again.”
I gasped. “No.”
Not that. Anything but that. He couldn’t take away the drugs and Elijah. I wouldn’t survive.
“Yes.” His tight lips pulled back. He was probably enjoying this. Probably waited his whole damn life for me to screw up badly enough to give him this power-trip he was on.
“No! You can’t tell me what to do anymore. This is my life. I’m done trying to live it for you. I’m out of here.”
“Don’t you dare!” The vein in his neck throbbed. The one that only came out when a merger didn’t go his way or his favorite team lost.
“Screw you!”
“Rylie Star Stark! You take one step outside that door, you’d better be prepared to never come back in it.”
My stride didn’t even slow. I stomped right through the house and out the front door without ever looking back. My mother must have gone to get my car from the school because she was just pulling into the drive. I flew right to the driver’s side door and slipped in before she was even all the way out.
“Riley, what are you—?”
The keys were still in the ignition. She took a startled step back as I turned it over and slammed the door shut.
“Riley!” She stood in the driveway, growing smaller as I drove away.
The stupid phone was still in my bag, probably sitting in the lost and found at school—a school that I couldn’t return to—or given to my parents where they would no doubt hold it prisoner at home—a home I couldn’t return to. Either way, I had no way to let Elijah know I was coming. I just showed up at the front door and knocked until he answered. No doubt he was surprised to see me, but no more surprised than I was by what I saw.
His left eye was blackened and swollen.
Chapter Twenty-six
“What happened?”
“What are you doing here?”
“I asked first.”
He didn’t invite me in, so I invited myself, shoving past him and moving into the kitchen, all the while keeping an eye out for Andy. He didn’t appear to be home.
“What are you doing?” Elijah leaned up against the door frame, resigned to watching me root around his freezer.
“Finding something to take that swelling down.”
“It’s not—”
“It is a big deal. It’s a very big deal, Elijah. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want to worry you.”
Grabbing a frozen hamburger patty wrapped in a freezer bag, I took him by the hand and pulled him down the hall after me.
“Here.” Sitting him on the edge of the bed, I pressed the cold meat to his face. “This looks awful. Was it Andy?”
He didn’t need to answer—I already knew—but I felt the slight nod of his head under my hand.
“Does he . . . do this often?” I couldn’t stomach the thought of Elijah being hurt.
“No. Just a few times since I’ve been here.”
“And you haven’t told anyone?”
“It doesn't matter, Ry.”
Now I understood how heartbreaking those words could sound. “It matters to me.”
Elijah didn’t say anything. Neither did I. For a long time we just stared at each other until the sound of Elijah’s phone ringing broke the trance.
“It’s Declan.” He went to answer and I snatched the device from his hand. “Whoa. What’s that about?”
“I need to talk to you first. Something . . . Something happened . . .”
A horrified look crossed Elijah’s face and my stomach dropped. He was going to be so disappointed in me. “Did you and Declan . . .?”
“What? No.”
He released quick breath and smiled at me. “You scared me for a second there.”
“Don’t get too excited, yet.”
Elijah’s eyes narrowed on me and his posture went rigid. “Is this about Parson? Did that bastard—?”
“He asked to see me after class again. I didn’t go,” I assured him quickly at the look of pure rage in his eyes.
“Smart girl.”
“Not that smart. I sort of . . . freaked. Declan found me having some kind of panic attack behind the school. He gave me a joint to help me relax and we sorta got caught.”
“Smoking at school? Shit, Ry.”
“Yeah. We both got suspended and . . .” That steel band was wrapping itself around my chest again, threatening to squeeze the life out of me. “M-my parents lost it. They said I can’t see you anymore. Can't talk to you o-or hear from you ever again.”
“Okay, breathe, Ry. They don’t mean that.”
“They do.”
“They can’t. We’re almost eighteen. A few more months and no one can ever tell us what to do again.”
“It’s worse.” My chest shuddered and a sob escaped.
“It’s okay, whatever it is, it’s okay.” He leaned in closer to me and peered into my damp eyes. “Are you high right now?”
I didn’t answer.
“Did you drive over here high as a fucking kite, Ry?”
There really wasn’t a good answer to give him. I knew it was a stupid idea when I did it, but it’s not like I was drunk driving.
“Dammit, Rylie.”
“I had to leave. I had to. M-my dad kicked me out. H-he said I couldn’t come back
.”
“Did he really say that to you or is your paranoia running away with you again?”
I stared at him in disbelief. Whose side was he on?
“Your dad’s not going to be winning any Father of the Year awards anytime soon, but he’s no Andy.” He twitched his hand toward the battered cheek I was still minding.
“No. He’s not.” I couldn’t deny that. My father had never laid a hand on me. Ever. “But that doesn’t mean you have the market cornered on pain, Elijah. Just because I live in a big house and drive a new car doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings, or that they can’t be crushed as easily as yours.”
Elijah brushed my hand away from his face, banishing the compress along with it. “Have I ever said that to you? Ever, in the entire time you’ve known me, have I ever even implied that I felt that way?”
“What you say and what you think are two entirely different things.” My gaze drifted over his bed, his walls, his nightstand . . . anywhere but him. The picture I had requested was sitting underneath his camera. I ran my fingers over it and pulled it back onto the bed in front of me. It was easier to talk to a two-dimensional image of him. “You’re sorry you ever met me. You wish you hadn’t, just like my parents. You’re disappointed that I’m nothing but a failure.”
Elijah’s warm finger slipped under my chin, forcing my head up. His eyes bore into mine and it became impossible to look away. “You are not a failure, Riley. And the only thing that disappoints me is that you can’t see that for yourself.”
“I can’t do this anymore, Elijah.” The admission slipped out as barely a whisper. I didn’t want to lay this on him, too, but I wanted him to know. I needed someone to care. “I can’t feel like this, anymore.”
“Like what?”
“Like I hurt . . . everywhere . . . inside. Like no matter what I do, I’ll never stop hurting. Like I just want it to end. Please, Elijah. Please just give me something to make it stop hurting.”
He shook his head, sadly, and the weight of his pity was unbearable. “You don’t need the drugs for that, Ry. You need help. Professional help. Someone you can talk to.”
“I talk to you.”
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