Spring: A High School Bully Romance (Sunset Beach High Book 3)

by McKayla Box

“It wasn't like that, Dad,” I say. “I swear.”

  He grunts. “Uh huh.”

  “What did his dad tell you?” I ask.

  “That they're meeting with an attorney,” he says. “That was really it. I didn't ask for more details because I wanted to get home and talk to you. Since you hadn't told me and I was completely in the dark.”

  I don't say anything because there's nothing to say.

  “How am I supposed to trust you if you don't tell me about this kind of stuff?” he finally asks. “I mean, it could've been far worse. It's bad enough that Trevor is in this kind of trouble. But it could've been worse.”

  “I know,” I say.

  “Do you?”

  I know that I have to make a decision. He's opened the door and if I close it, I'm not sure I'll have the courage to open it again. I hate that I haven't been truthful with him. But I also know that giving him the truth about everything means there's no going back.

  “Yeah, I do,” I say, looking at him. “I do know it could've been worse because it's been worse.”

  He stares at me, then shakes his head. “I don't understand that. What do you mean?”

  My hands are shaking, so I put them on my knees to make them stop. “You have to promise me that you won't yell at me.”

  “That's not a great start, Presley.”

  “You have to promise me,” I tell him. “You can be angry at me or whatever, but you can't yell at me. I can't take that. I've already let you down and I'm sorry. But you're telling me you want to know everything. I'll tell you. But you cannot yell at me.”

  He massages his jaw for a few seconds, like he's trying to work out an ache.

  I wait.

  “Okay,” he says, folding his hands into his lap. “I will not yell. You have my word.”

  “Promise?”

  “I just did. Now tell me what else I don't know.”

  I take a couple of deep breaths. My stomach is filled with butterflies. I flex my fingers against my knees.

  I look at him. “Back at the beginning of the year, I was drugged. On purpose. A girl was mad at me and she decided to get back at me. She put something in a drink that I had at a party, another guy was in on it and he helped set me up, and another girl who was mad at me started taking swings at me because I was so out of it I couldn't defend myself.”

  His mouth opens several times, but nothing comes out.

  “There's more,” I say before he can interrupt. “Before Christmas, Trevor's ex-girlfriend moved back. I think you remember that. She wasn't happy that Trevor and I were together.” I take a deep breath, try to steady myself. “She made this...tape. Of me. And she made it look like I was having sex with a guy that Bridget was dating at the time.”

  He's looking at me like he can't believe the words coming out of my mouth.

  “It ended up being the reason Trevor and I broke up,” I explain. “I was able to prove it was fake and a whole bunch of stuff happened with it, but people found out it was fake. But everyone basically thought it was real and sort of left me for dead. Everyone apologized when I was able to show them it wasn't real, but I just sort of...kept everyone at bay. I didn't trust anyone because they turned on me.” Tears sting my eyes. “I couldn't believe anyone thought I would do that. And I didn't want to be friends with anyone that thought I would do that.” I wipe at my eyes. “It's okay now. Or, it's better, I guess. I don't know. I'm back with my friends and with Trevor.” I look at him. “But that's what happened and I know I should've told you all of that, but I just couldn't. I didn't know what to do and I was embarrassed and I just kept thinking I'd tell you, but I never found the right time. Probably because I was afraid.”

  He stands up and comes over to me. He motions for me to stand up and I do. He puts his arms around me and hugs me, putting his chin on top of my head. We stand like that for awhile.

  “I'm sorry, Presley,” he finally says. “I'm sorry you had to go through all that.”

  “It's okay,” I say.

  “No. It's not. No one should have to deal with that crap. I'm sorry you were alone and didn't feel comfortable telling me.”

  He finally lets go of me and I sit back down.

  He sits down next to me. “I can't believe you kept all this to yourself.”

  “I didn't,” I say. “Literally, everyone at school knows. About everything. For a kid who hasn't even been at the school for a year, everyone definitely knows my name.”

  “You know these things are criminal, correct?” he says. “You understand that?”

  “I do.”

  “Okay,” he says. “Then we need to figure out what to do about that. We need to inform the school and then go talk to law enforcement.”

  I hold up a hand. “Hang on. There's something else you should know.”

  “There's more?” He sighs. “Okay. What else?”

  “The girl who drugged me,” I say. “The one who put something in my drink?”

  “Yeah?”

  “It was Shanna Becker,” I tell him. “The daughter of the woman you went out with this weekend.”

  TWENTY NINE

  He starts to say something, then stops.

  He looks at the floor.

  Then he looks at me. “Her daughter did that to you?”

  I nod.

  “You know that for sure?” he asks.

  “One hundred percent,” I say. “There were others involved, but she pretended to be my friend and she put whatever she put in my drink. It was her.”

  He leans back in the couch and puts his hand against his forehead. “Jesus christ.”

  “I know,” I say. “I didn't want to tell you. When you told me who your date was, I was sick to my stomach. Then when you told me you had a good time and that you went on a second date, I didn't know what to say. I didn't want to screw anything up. I mean, I don't know her mother. I don't know what she's like and I didn't want to assume that she's like...Shanna.”

  He looks at me. “You should've told me. I never would've gone.”

  “But that's not what I wanted,” I tell him. “And you might've said something to her.”

  “You're damn right I would've said something to her,” he says. “You're damn right. What her daughter did to you was criminal. People go to jail for that.”

  “I know,” I say. “I know. It's all screwed up. And I was lucky. My friends recognized something was happening and they came and found me and I was okay.” I pause. “Trevor got in a fight that night, too. With the guy who helped her set me up.”

  “I hope he kicked his ass,” he says.

  I laugh. “He did. He seriously did.”

  “Good,” he says. He shakes his head. “And this video?”

  I take a deep breath. “Okay. You're connected to this one, too.”

  He leans back. “Great.”

  “You remember the app you were telling me about?” I say. “That Trevor's dad was investing in or whatever he was doing with it? The one that could basically make fake videos?”

  He nods.

  “I think it was her dad that maybe was developing it?” I say. “Atkins is her last name.”

  Recognition flashes through his expression. “Yes.”

  “She got hold of it,” I say. “And she made a video of me and this guy Bridget was with. She sent it out to everyone at school. Or, at least, to a few people and then it exploded. She wanted everyone to hate me. And it worked. For awhile.”

  He shakes his head. “I'm so sorry. I can't believe this.”

  “One of Trevor's friends,” I say. “Brett. One of the guys that got arrested this weekend. He was the only one that believed me when I told everyone it was fake. He helped me...figure it out. And tell people that she set me up. The app was on her phone.”

  He chews on his bottom lip for a second. “And...in the video. You were...”

  “Totally naked and having sex with a guy that is just as awful as the two girls are,” I say. “He doesn't go to Sunset. But, yeah. And it looked pretty
real.”

  “My god, Pres,” he says, shaking his head. “I'm so sorry you felt like you had to keep this to yourself. I'm so sorry I didn't know.”

  “It's not your fault,” I tell him. “I just didn't know how to tell you.”

  He puts his hand on mine. “Don't ever be afraid to tell me anything. Especially when it's about something or someone that's harmed you. Don't ever be afraid.”

  I wish it was that easy. Because I know it's not. But I know he means well.

  “I'll try,” I say. “But it's all just super complicated.”

  “I understand that,” he says. “But it's time we uncomplicate it.”

  “It's not that simple,” I say.

  He raises an eyebrow at me. “I beg to differ, Pres. We take things one step at a time. First, I need call Jennifer and let her know we won't be going out again.”

  “You don't have to do that,” I tell him. “You really don't.”

  He smiles at me. “I appreciate that. But I do. And it's better to cut it off now. There's no way I'd put you in that kind of situation. Not ever. So, that's step number one.”

  I feel guilty, but I don't say anything.

  “Second step is to contact the police and make a formal statement about what happened that night,” he says. “Obviously, it's been too long for us to know exactly what you were given, but you can describe it and they can go from there. You can give them the context and we can see what they say.”

  He's gone into full lawyer mode.

  And I'm not comfortable with it.

  “Dad, hold on,” I say. “Slow down.”

  “After that, we need to address the video,” he says, ignoring me. “I'll need to let Frank know because there's no way in hell I'm doing any work on that thing ever again.”

  “Dad.”

  “And we'll need to file a complaint against the Atkins girl,” he says. “Do you know if the video is still out there?”

  “I'm sure it is, but--”

  “Okay,” he says. “That should be sufficient to get the ball rolling against her.”

  I grab his hand and squeeze. “Dad.”

  He looks at me, startled, like he's just remember that I'm sitting with him. “What?”

  “You need to slow down,” I say again. “With all of this. I haven't made any decisions on what I want to do.”

  “I don't think there are any decisions for you to make,” he says. “They committed crimes. That can't go unchecked. I know I'm reacting emotionally because you're my daughter, but I'd say the same thing to you even if you weren't. What they did was criminal. Period. If someone walked in here and robbed our house, we'd call the police and report it.” He pauses. “What happened to you was no different.”

  “It feels different,” I say.

  “It isn't,” he says. “It is in no way different.”

  “Okay,” I say. “But...I'm not sure that's what I want to do.”

  He clears his throat. “Presley. Listen to me.”

  “I am listening to you,” I say. “You need to listen to me. Please.”

  His hands are balled into fists in his lap. He looks down at them and spreads his hands out slowly, laying them against his thighs. “Okay. Sorry. I'm listening.”

  I wait for a moment to make sure he really is and to make sure he isn't going to keep going on. He looks at me, but he doesn't say anything.

  “Okay,” I say. “I do understand what you're saying. I really do. Trust me, I've been thinking about all of this for months. I'm not sure I've thought about much else. But there are a couple of things.”

  He starts to say something, but catches himself. He clears his throat again and looks at me. “Okay.”

  I know it's hard for him to stay quiet, so I appreciate that he's trying.

  “First thing,” I say. “I'm not sure I want all of the attention that's going to come with reporting this stuff to the police. And before you say a word, I know. I know that I can't be afraid and all of that. But I also know that it's going to be super hard and in a lot of way, I'm going to be treated like it's my fault.”

  “I won't let that happen,” he says.

  “It's not yours to prevent,” I tell him. “You know how girls and women are treated with this stuff. Especially with the video. There are going to be a on of questions that are garbage and I'm not sure I want to go through with that.”

  His mouth sets in a firm line and I can tell he disagrees.

  “You don't know what it's like,” I tell him. “You don't know what it's like to be a girl in high school and have everyone that you're dumb or that you're exaggerating or that you're some kind of slut. You have no idea what it's like and there's no way for me to explain it to you so that you really know. But it sucks. And I know that if I report all of this stuff, a lot of that stuff is going to come back at me. It just will. I know it's not fair and I know it's not true, but it will come back at me. They'll think I'm making up the stuff about being drugged. They'll ask what I did to make her mad at me. They'll ask if I've had sex before. If I've made a video tape. All of that stuff.” I pause, hoping all of it is sinking in with him. “And it's almost suffocating to just think about.”

  He doesn't say anything, but he does nod.

  “But there's something else,” I tell him.

  He looks at me.

  “Yesterday, I'd made up my mind,” I tell him. “I was so mad about those idiots in Santa Barbara and what they'd done and what ended up happening with Trevor. I was furious. And I made up my mind. I was going to come home and tell you everything and go to the police. Because I'm sick of girls keeping their mouths shut when this stuff happens to them.”

  “Good,” he says, nodding. “That's what I'm looking for.”

  “But now it's gotten...more complicated.”

  “How?”

  I take a deep breath, try to settle the butterflies in my gut. “Okay. So the night I got drugged. I told you that Trevor went after the guy that helped Shanna.”

  He nods. “Yeah.”

  “He came up to me after school today,” I say. “I'd threatened him awhile back about going to the police and I think he was scared. But he came up to me after school today and he told me if I did go to the police, he'd press charges against Trevor for what he did to him that night. It wasn't self-defense, Dad. Trevor literally beat the crap out of them because he'd lied to me and he was a part of the whole thing. If you want to get technical about it, he was a part of it, but he didn't do anything to Trevor.” I pause. “If he wants to press charges against Trevor, he can. And if he does that? Trevor is really going to have a problem since he's already charged with the fight in Santa Barbara.” I look at him. “Do you see where I'm at? Does that all make sense?”

  He pushes himself off the couch and shoves his hands in the pockets of his pants. He does a slow circle around the living room, his chin tucked to his chest, thinking.

  I don't say anything.

  I wait.

  After a few minutes, he finally stops pacing and looks at me. “Okay. I've just listened to you. And I hear you. Loud and clear. Will you listen to me now?”

  I hesitate, then nod. “Okay. Yeah.”

  He rocks back and forth on his feet for a second. “I'm not dismissing anything you've just told me. I'm really not. I think your concerns are legitimate and completely fair.” He pauses, pursing his lips. “And I appreciate your concern for both yourself and for Trevor.”

  “It's more for him than for me,” I say. “I really did make up my mind yesterday. Derek changed my mind today.”

  “Derek?”

  “He's the guy that helped Shanna,” I tell him. “And the guy Trevor beat up.”

  He nods. “Derek. Right. Okay. I get that and I believe you. And I understand that this guy gave you pause today by making the threat against Trevor.” He makes a face and looks at me for a moment. “But you really need to report all of this. You can't let it go.”

  I feel my shoulders fall and I sink back into the couch.

>   “And I'm sure most of my reasoning is the same as yours,” he says. “Whatever pushed you to the point of finally deciding you needed to say something is probably a lot of what I'm thinking about. That what they did was against the law. That you have to stand up to people who do those things. That you don't want to look back later in life and wish you'd said something. Done something.”

  I nod slowly. “Yeah.”

  “But I think there's something else,” he says.

  I look at him.

  “You need to do this for yourself,” he says. “Again, I appreciate that you care about Trevor. But you aren't responsible for him. I appreciate that he's defended you twice now. I have no doubt that he cares a great deal for you. Those are good things.” He shakes his head. “But you aren't his keeper and you can't do something that's damaging for you to protect him. That's problematic to me. It will have a long-lasting impact on you. I really believe that. And I don't want you to have to deal with that down the road.”

  I know that he's right. Hearing him say it all makes it sound so simple.

  But it doesn't feel simple.

  At all.

  “I can't force you to do anything,” he says. “You're an adult and I can't make you do anything. But I'm not going to lie to you here. I'd be disappointed if you let this go. It feels like there's a lot at stake here and I think that not doing something is taking the easy way out.” He shakes his head. “That's never been you, Presley.”

  I look at my dad. “I don't want him to go to jail.”

  “Maybe it's an empty threat,” he says. “And maybe, given the context in which it happened, there will be some question as to whether or not this Derek can even do anything. Same for what happened in Santa Barbara. The context matters.”

  “It's not an empty threat,” I say, shaking my head. “I know it's not. He's exactly the kind who will do it if he's in any kind of trouble.”

  “Then we'll deal with that when the time comes,” he says. “But I don't think you can base your decision on what might happen. You need to base it on what has already happened. To you.”

  The thought of anything happening to Trevor makes my stomach turn. The idea that Derek has any say in the matter makes it even worse.