Rebecca was right. Rory knew she was, even though she didn’t want to believe it. Even if Carson managed to avoid getting in trouble with the cops, he’d certainly be in trouble once the school administration found out about the fight.
If Carson was suspended, his chances of getting a college scholarship to play football were as good as dead. Rory felt horrible. All she’d wanted to do was stand up to Jeremy and bring his reign of terror to an end. But instead, she may have unintentionally cost Carson his bright, successful future.
CHAPTER 11
“I can’t believe this,” Rory hissed as she and Rebecca exited the principal’s office the following Monday. Her eyes were red and watery as angry tears welled up and threatened to spill down her cheeks. Rebecca cast a sympathetic look at her and said nothing.
Rory had spent the weekend on pins and needles, anxiously waiting to find out Carson’s fate. He’d finally returned her repeated phone calls on Sunday night but had spoken in a hushed voice, telling her he couldn’t talk to her for long. Much to Rory’s relief, he’d assured her that the police hadn’t pressed charges against him. His parents, on the other hand, had taken it upon themselves to be his jury, judge and executioner.
Right then and there, Rory had decided she had to try to fix things.
The next morning, Rory had insisted Rebecca accompany her to the principal’s office. Rebecca was smart and always knew the right thing to say. She was persuasive, too – in fact, their mother was always hinting that Rebecca should join the debate team although Rory knew her sister’s fear of public speaking would never allow it. Rory skipped out on her classes with alarming frequency, turned in homework late and barely passed her exams. But Rebecca was Going Places. If there was one student the administration would listen to, it would be Rory’s sister.
Stepping into the principal’s office was always a tense experience for Rory. She rarely found herself there of her own accord. Usually she was summoned to the principal’s office to be informed that she was in danger of failing a class or that if she missed any more classes she’d be facing disciplinary action. For her, a visit to the principal’s office was never a good thing.
Of course it was a different situation entirely for Rebecca. She’d never been in trouble a day in her life. She was at ease as they waited for their appointment. When the principal summoned the sisters into her office, it was clear that she and Rebecca had a good rapport.
To Rebecca’s credit, she’d handled herself beautifully in there. Rory had expected as much. Rebecca had said all the right things, respectfully and intelligently pointing out that Carson ought not to be reprimanded for coming to another student’s aid. If anything, she argued, he should be commended.
The principal had listened carefully, even nodding her head in agreement at times. For a moment there, Rory had been hopeful that they’d get the results they wanted. Carson would be spared a suspension, would get to remain on the football team and would impress all the college scouts at his next big game. Everything would work out.
Then the principal pursed her lips and apologetically explained that while the school’s zero tolerance policy wasn’t perfect, it was designed to send a strong message to students about the school’s stance on physical violence. She admitted that perhaps the application of the policy to Carson was heavy handed. She assured the girls that she was sympathetic to their cause. But then she pointed out that the school policy couldn’t be changed and applied retroactively.
“But that’s not fair!” Rory had blurted out, causing the principal to raise an eyebrow.
Rebecca had kicked her under the desk, silently warning her to keep her emotions under control.
Gripping the armrests of the uncomfortable straight-backed office chair tightly, Rory had tried a different approach. “Isn’t there anything you can do?” she’d pleaded, her tone calmer and her blue eyes wide. “Please?”
“We can review our policy going forward,” the principal had replied. “I’m sure we can find ways to improve upon the way we respond to conflicts in the future. But as for this particular case, I’m sorry but my hands are tied.”
The principal had stood up from behind her desk, signalling the end of the conversation.
“But…” Rory had protested, unwilling to just accept defeat.
Rebecca had stood up and nudged Rory until she’d done the same. “Thank you for your time,” Rebecca had said politely before practically pushing her sister out of the office.
Now they stood in the hallway staring at one another. Rory couldn’t be angry with Rebecca. She’d really tried to persuade the principal to cut Carson some slack and Rebecca wasn’t even fond of the guy (Rory suspected that would change if Rebecca would just give him a chance). But Rory was completely frustrated with the system. As far as she was concerned, it was deeply, infuriatingly flawed.
“We should get back to class,” Rebecca pointed out, noting the deserted hallway.
“Yeah,” Rory said unconvincingly, not moving an inch as her sister began to walk toward her first period classroom.
Rebecca turned around and gave her a look. “I’m not trying to nag but you are going to class, aren’t you? I know the teachers have been going easy on you because of everything that’s happened but you’ve been missing a lot of school, Rory. If you keep it up, it’s going to catch up with you.”
Rory sighed, feeling defeated. She couldn’t even argue with her sister because Rebecca spoke the truth. “I’ll go,” she promised, sounding every bit as unenthused as she felt. Then in a tiny voice she added, “Want to meet for lunch? Maybe we can go to that little Chinese place a few blocks over.” She couldn’t bear to sit in the cafeteria with her usual crowd.
Rebecca hesitated. “I was hoping to find Troy,” she admitted. “I haven’t talked to him since everything happened and I just want to make sure he’s okay, you know?”
“Oh.”
“You can join us if you want?” Rebecca offered. “When the weather’s nice we usually eat in the courtyard under that old oak tree.”
“Nah, that’s okay.”
Rory knew Troy probably wasn’t sure what to think of her. She was Rebecca’s sister but she was also a part of the very group that had participated in or at least condoned his harassment. As unfair as it was, that may very well mean she was guilty by association in his eyes. She knew Troy was pretty much the only friend Rebecca had now that Mya had moved away and she didn’t want to interfere with that. It wouldn’t be fair.
“Are you sure?” Rebecca pressed, looking guilty.
“Wipe that look off your face,” Rory ordered with a flip of her long blonde hair. “Everyone keeps treating me like I’m broken and it’s getting old. You’re my sister. You of all people should be able to treat me like a normal human, okay?” She rolled her eyes melodramatically and muttered, “I swear, sometimes I feel like I’m on display in a zoo.”
Rebecca laughed, looking relieved to see a glimpse of the old Rory no matter how fleeting.
Rory forced a smile as she gave her sister a small wave before heading in the opposite direction toward her homeroom. She was glad her little white lie had convinced Rebecca that she was okay. She just wished saying it enough times would convince her as well as everyone else.
But it wasn’t that simple. And Rory wasn’t so sure she wasn’t broken.
* * * * *
When lunchtime rolled around, Rory felt lost.
She couldn’t go to the cafeteria because it was full of phony, self-aggrandizing fakes who she’d rather not see. Besides, she wasn’t exactly sure what the fallout from the Jeremy incident would be like and wasn’t in any mood to find out. She couldn’t eat her junk food locked away from the world in a bathroom stall because it brought back painful memories of Grace. She couldn’t go sit on the bleachers and stare out at the football field that Carson wouldn’t be playing on because it would make her miss him and feel awful. That didn’t leave her with many options.
When the bell rang Rory headed o
utside, careful not to look at the memorial to Grace. She wondered how long it would be left up for. Surely someone at some point would decide it was time to take it down, but when? Seeing it – and all the insincere messages from snobs who’d deemed themselves Grace’s good friends only in death – made Rory’s head hurt. It couldn’t come down fast enough, as far as she was concerned.
Just then her phone rang.
“Hello?”
“It’s good to hear your voice.”
Rory’s face lit up. “Carson! I thought your parents took your phone away?”
“They did,” he confirmed, “But they didn’t hide it very well. I use it when they’re out.”
“Sneaky! I never knew you were such a badass,” Rory teased.
“I didn’t either,” he chuckled.
He sounded remarkably good all things considered. He’d gotten in a fight and been hauled into the police station like a common criminal. He’d been suspended from school and booted off the football team, pretty much destroying his prospects of getting a scholarship to college. He’d also undoubtedly disappointed his parents. Yet he sounded rather upbeat.
“Have I ever mentioned you have a hot phone voice?” Carson asked, his own voice sounding rich and masculine. “Because you do…you have a very hot phone voice.”
Rory blushed. “I never said thank you for coming to my rescue,” she told him. “So…thank you. Even though you probably wish you’d never met me in the first place, thank you.”
“Please!” Carson scoffed. “What I wish is – oh shit. My parents just came home. I’ve got to go, sorry! Bye!” There was a click and then nothing but the dialtone in Rory’s ear.
She sighed and put her phone away. Glancing at her watch, she saw she still had nearly three quarters of an hour to kill. She sighed and kicked at a pebble on the sidewalk even though the pebble had done nothing to deserve her wrath.
Rory wished for the millionth time that she had a car. Failing her written driving test had been devastating – just one more item to add to the long list of things Rory was bad at. She could have retaken it but she’d opted not to, paralyzed with the fear of failing a second time.
At the rate things were going, Rebecca would probably get her license before Rory did! Rory had visions of herself needing to be driven around by her younger sister. Now that would be embarrassing!
It took Rory a moment to realize she was agonizing over the same things she’d been obsessed with Before. She wasn’t sure what to make of that. Part of her felt superficial and selfish but another part was relieved that maybe, just maybe, the old Rory was still in there somewhere, buried beneath the mountain of grief that made breathing difficult.
Rory’s mom had been pressuring her to visit a counselor. Rory couldn’t imagine anything worse than being expected to spill her guts to a stranger, sniveling like a little bitch and getting snot all over the “talk therapist’s” expensive leather couch. She didn’t think she could handle revisiting that awful night over and over, talking her way through it – that was how talk therapy worked, wasn’t it?
“What’s up, stranger?”
Rory turned around already knowing who she’d see. She’d recognize that voice anywhere.
CHAPTER 12
Sheck stood behind Rory, his arms crossed loosely over his chest. His hair was windblown and his black t-shirt with the name of some obscure band Rory had never heard of was slightly rumpled. More than anything, she noticed how laid back he seemed. She briefly wondered if he was high on something but then immediately scolded herself for thinking that way. She’d give him the benefit of the doubt…for now.
“Hey,” she said. “What are you doing out here?”
Sheck shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just killing time before class I guess.”
“You’re going?”
He grinned sheepishly, his dark hair hanging in his eyes. “Yeah I’ve sort of been missing in action for a while now, haven’t I? It would be pretty shitty to flunk out of high school, you know? So I figured I’d better start showing up again.”
“Sometimes I think you’re the male version of me.”
“God help us all,” he teased. Then his face darkened. “I heard about your run-in with Jeremy the other day. You okay?”
“Yeah,” Rory said, falling into step next to Sheck as they walked toward his car in the student parking lot. “Can you believe the police didn’t charge Jeremy? He’s such a jackass, ugh!”
“My dad wanted to,” Sheck assured her. “I mean, he didn’t come right out and say it but the other night he started asking me all these questions like what sort of guy Jeremy is and if he’s been in fights before. It was pretty obvious what he was getting at.”
Sheck unlocked his car and Rory climbed into the front passenger seat.
Sheck pulled his guitar out of the trunk and then got into the driver’s seat, leaving the door open and one leg casually hanging out. He strummed the strings absentmindedly as he stared out the windshield at the other vehicles.
“So you’ve been seeing your dad?” Rory asked somewhat hopefully. She’d always thought of Val and Clive’s relationship as something straight out of a romance novel, the rebellious bad girl settling down with a straight laced cop and living happily ever after. It was hard to accept that it had all come crashing down.
“Actually,” Sheck said casually although his eyes gave away his jubilation, “Dad moved back in this weekend. I guess they talked and decided they’d rather fix their problems than get a divorce. They’re working things out.”
“That’s great!” Rory exclaimed a little too loudly. Everything lately had been all doom and gloom. A bright spot in all the dreariness was exactly what she needed. Maybe some fairytales didn’t end in smoke and flames after all, she thought to herself hopefully.
“It is,” Sheck agreed, “Although now I’m a little paranoid my dad’s going to find my weed and stuff. Do you know how much it sucks to have a cop for a dad?” he joked though he was clearly delighted by his parents’ reconciliation.
“Aw poor baby,” Rory retorted sarcastically, making it clear that she had no sympathy for him. “What did you do, bury it in a coffee can in the backyard or something?”
“Nah,” Sheck said with a slow, easy grin. He reached inside his guitar and pulled out a plastic bag full of green stuff. “Dad’s completely tone deaf…there’s no way he’d ever so much as touch my guitar.” He looked rather proud of himself for outsmarting not just any cop but a very good, experienced cop who also happened to be his father.
Rory half-expected Sheck to take a mystery pill or something right then and there, but much to her relief he didn’t. Instead, he deposited his secret stash back inside his guitar and played an intricate melody on the instrument, his nimble fingers flying over the strings with skill.
“When did you get so good at playing that thing?” Rory demanded.
“I’ve been spending a lot of time at Cricket Lake,” Sheck shrugged. “It passes the time.”
“You’re good.”
“I don’t know about that,” he said modestly. Sheck was never one to brag. He began to play the intro to a popular top 40 ballad. It was a soft, sweet and almost haunting melody. He looked at Rory expectantly. “Do you recognize it?”
Instead of answering, Rory started to sing the lyrics, her voice quiet but clear and on key. A smile broke out over Sheck’s face as he watched her. He continued to play so she continued to sing until the song was over. Sheck kept looking at her.
“What?” she demanded. “Do I have something stuck in my teeth?”
“No,” he chuckled. “It’s just…I thought I lost you for a while there. We all did. Watching you sing just now was like…like you’re back, you know? The sadness was gone from your eyes for a minute there while you were singing. Although,” he noted with some regret, “It’s back now.”
Tears welled up in Rory’s eyes and Sheck looked very uncomfortable. To some extent he may have taken after his father in the stoicism d
epartment and besides, Rory and Sheck weren’t the sort of friends who did emotion well.
“Sorry,” she joked as she swiped the back of her hand across her eyes. “There’s nothing like making a moment awkward, huh?”
“No worries. You’re good, you know that?”
“Good at what, singing?”
“Yep…we should start a band.”
Despite her tears, Rory giggled at the thought. “What, you mean like a garage band?”
“Sure, why not?”
The distraction was nice. Tipping her head to the side, Rory indulged in the silly fantasy a bit more. “What kind of music would we play?” she pondered. “Rock…alternative…or maybe pop so all the crazy screaming fans would throw their panties at you?”
Sheck wrinkled his nose – whether it was at the suggestion of playing pop music or of having strange dirty panties hurled at him, she wasn’t sure. “All of the above minus the last part,” he suggested. “Don’t you think it would be kind of cool to go on tour?”
“Living in hotels would be pretty sweet. I wouldn’t have to clean up after myself.”
“Like you ever do as it is,” he snorted. “But that’s not quite what I had in mind. I mean, if a band gets big enough then sure, hotels are fair game. But when you’re starting out you’d probably have a grimy cramped little tour bus to travel around in. Or like…an old beat up van or maybe a second hand motorhome if you can find one for cheap.”
It was Rory’s turn to make a face. “Are you trying to convince me or talk me out of it? Right now I can’t tell. That doesn’t sound so glamorous…actually, it sounds kind of disgusting. Sleeping in a van? Yuck!”
“Who cares about glamor?” he shrugged. “It’s about the music, baby! Or at least that’s what every cliché musician who’s secretly obsessed with glamor would tell you,” he added with a touch of disapproval in his voice.
He was always grumbling about how much he hated manufactured boy bands and girl groups. Sometimes he’d go on rants about how the best bands were the “organic” ones, whatever that meant. Rory would just listen and then sweetly inform him he was crazy and in need of mental help. Being as even keeled as he was, Sheck never seemed overly passionate about much. But music was different. It set something off inside him.
Catalyst (The Best Days #1) Page 14