A Bad Boy Stole My Bra

by Lauren Price

  “Right, as we seem to be finished with this topic –” Mr Johnson shoots us all a blank stare – “we’ll move on. Our next topic will be momentum. Linear momentum is defined by the mass of an object multiplied by its velocity. Can anyone tell me what the principle of the conservation of momentum states?”

  I freeze in my seat.

  “If objects collide, the total momentum before the collision is the same as the total momentum after the collision, so long as there are no external factors at play,” a voice parrots from the front.

  Collision.

  “That’s correct. We will be looking at force, and the conservation of momentum over the next few lessons. So, to get you all into the mindset again, explain this to me. A car of mass two thousand kilos is moving along a straight horizontal road at a speed of five metres per second to the minus one. This car collides with a standstill object of mass fifty kilos, which is at rest on the same track.”

  The blood runs cold, and I can hear my heart pounding in my ears.

  “During the collision, the car and the object lock together and move together,” Mr Johnson continues, oblivious to the horror on my face. I’m not ready for this. I’m not ready. I can feel the panic rising within me, and my breaths get faster and faster as I look for a relief that I can’t seem to find.

  “What is the speed of the objects immediately after the collision?”

  I can’t breathe. I need to get out of here.

  “Riley.” Alec stares at me as he realises that something very wrong is happening. “Come on, Riley, let’s get out of here.”

  Without another word, he grabs my hand and pulls me from my seat. His skin is warm and rough, and I try to focus on that, to root me to a calm place. We ignore the calls of a teacher who doesn’t understand why we’re leaving; we ignore the eyes of students. Alec gets me to the door as fast as he possibly can, and I could never feel more grateful than I feel right now.

  “Riley.” Alec grips my hand tighter and leads me out further into the cool corridor. The claustrophobia has disappeared, but I stare at Alec with my eyes wide in panic as I clutch him and hyperventilate. He must be so scared right now; I know I am. I don’t want him to see me like this, but I need him to help me. I need him to calm me down.

  “Breathe, Riley. In, out. In, out. It’s all okay, Riley. I’m here. You’re okay.”

  My eyes fill with tears that I can’t seem to choke back down. My panic attacks are fairly rare, but when they do occur, they’re so overwhelming that I can’t help but sob with the shock and power of my emotions. I break down in front of Alec Wilde, the last person on Earth I’d want to cry in front of, but his arms wrap round me and he supports me as I weep. He doesn’t say anything. He knows that nothing he could ever say will help.

  Calm down, Riley. Calm down. You’re safe. You’re okay.

  “Riley,” Alec whispers after a while, cradling me to his chest. My gasps for breath are the only sounds that fill the stagnant, quiet air, as I struggle to force my mind back to rationality. “Listen to my heartbeat. Feel how steady that is?”

  His words surprise me, but grateful for the distraction, I force my head against his chest and listen to the steady thump of his life. I listen to the source of him, the thing that’s holding everything together. Slowly, surely, everything else begins to fade into the background. I place all of my concentration on him. On his heart.

  I’m not sure how much time passes while I’m slumped in Alec’s arms, but eventually my breathing begins to slow and my eyes stop leaking.

  Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

  He smells like cologne and vanilla. His hoodie is soft, and his arms are strong. I feel safe. When I’m placed in situations like the one I was just in, it usually takes me a lot longer to calm down. It takes me a few seconds to work up the courage to pull away from his heartbeat and face the aftermath, but once I do I wipe away my tears and avoid looking at Alec. There’s a hollowness in my chest, and my head is starting to hurt.

  “Thank you,” I say in a weak voice, still not looking at him. What must he think of me now? “Thank you for getting me out of there.” I don’t think he’ll ever understand how grateful I am, but also how embarrassing it is to be seen like that. To be seen as so vulnerable, so messy.

  “It’s okay.” Alec’s voice is soft, and his words are adorably awkward. “You know that you can, um . . . talk to me about stuff, don’t you? I won’t laugh or anything. If you need me, I’m here.”

  I have to fight the urge to hug him tightly and never let go.

  “So.” Alec puts his hands in his pockets and finally I look up at him. He looks worried, which surprises me. “What was that about?”

  “Panic attack . . .” I mumble. “I get them from time to time.”

  It’s getting close to the anniversary.

  Alec’s eyes betray his concern. “Okay, do you want me to walk you to the nurse’s office? I could speak to her for you, if you want?”

  “No.” I shake my head. “Thank you, but no. I think I should get home. I have some stuff I need to think about . . . I kind of need to be alone right now.” I bite my lip at the look of dejection on his face, which he hurriedly disguises. I force a smile onto my lips and continue, trying to reassure him. “Maybe we can organise something after school? Thank you, again. Honestly, you have no idea how grateful I am.”

  “Oh, it’s okay.” Alec nods and scuffs his feet against the floor. “Be safe. Text me so I know when you’re home.”

  I need you.

  My heart warms and my smile becomes a little more genuine as he backs away, towards the classroom again. “Thanks, Alec. I will.”

  We sit in silence at the table. Something cold and unspoken lingers in the air, weighing down upon each of our shoulders. Someone needs to talk, but nobody wants to. It sits heavy in the air above our heads, like a cloud, ready for someone to let loose the rain. Jack stares dumbly into the patterns of the wood. Violet’s hand is in my lap, squeezing my numb fingers. My mom’s nails tap relentlessly against the surface as we wait for someone to speak first, someone to breach the inevitable.

  “Okay,” Mom finally says. “We have to prepare some kind of a plan.”

  The rain falls.

  “A plan?” I echo scathingly. Violet’s grip tightens round my hand.

  “Yes, a plan,” Mom snaps back, looking me in the eye. Despite the circumstances, it’s refreshing to see a spark about her again. To see a glimpse of the fire that burned inside her until just under a year ago. “We need to find the best way possible to deal with the upcoming anniversary, so that events like today don’t have to happen again. If you know of another way we can help make things easier for everyone, please speak up.”

  I remain silent.

  “That’s what I thought.” Mom sighs. The fight within her dies again. “I think everyone here knows why I called this family meeting. Riley had another panic attack today, and it’s about time that we approach the subject of the anniversary of Kaitlin’s death. I think it will be a lot easier to face if we all know how we’re going to face it.”

  I glance at Violet sitting beside me. She has a small smile on her face, most likely from being addressed as one of the family. Her home life isn’t fantastic, and she’s been one of us for years now. Best friends with me and Kaitlin, she went through all of the events of last year with us. She knows she is my family, but it must still be nice for her to hear.

  “Nothing is going to prevent me from having panic attacks, Mom,” I say weakly.

  Because the guilt is never going to stop.

  “I know that, sweetheart, but what we can try to do is ease your anxiety by having a certain plan for things – so that you know how to deal with the feelings when they come to you. Do you think it would be worth seeing your therapist again?”

  “No,” I reply quickly. Jack looks up at this with an expression of confusion, but I shake my head adamantly. “We never really spoke about Kaitlin herself. She always encouraged me to keep writing about Kai
tlin in my journal if I didn’t feel comfortable talking aloud about her, so I’d prefer just to do that again.”

  Violet looks at me for a few seconds, before turning to my mom. “I think that’s probably the best thing for Riley, actually. She’s got us to talk to about Kaitlin, and she has her journal for her more intimate thoughts. She’s progressed so much without the need of a therapist. If she feels uncomfortable with the idea, I don’t see why she should need to see Julia again.”

  I squeeze Violet’s hand as a silent thanks.

  “Okay,” Mom says. “No therapist. However, my compromise is that I want you to write in your journal as often as you can, Riley. I also want you to ring me if you ever think you’re going to have a panic attack, or if you’ve already had one, and I’ll take you out of school immediately. I don’t think it’s good for you to be there when you feel like that.”

  “Okay,” I agree. “What about Jack?”

  We all turn to the eight-year-old boy, clutching his iPad like some kind of a lifeline. He stares blankly back at us.

  “I’ll be okay.”

  “Are you sure, sweetheart?” Mom wraps a comforting arm round his shoulders. “It’s a lot to deal with, so if you’d like someone to talk to about it, then we’re all here. I can also ring Julia for you and book you some appointments if you want to talk to someone privately.”

  “No, I don’t want that.”

  “Okay, well, Riley and Violet have offered to walk you home from school so you don’t have to get a ride with Jamie any more. Is that better?”

  “That’s better,” Jack affirms. He’s always hated getting rides with his friend Jamie.

  “What about you, Mom?” I ask finally, turning to look at her wearied face. “How are you going to deal with the anniversary?” It’s so like my mom to make a plan for everyone else to deal with the event, but for her to tough it out herself. Her first thoughts always go to us, but she struggles just as much as we do – if not more. My stomach churns with guilt, and my eyes drop to her hands.

  Mom’s fingers tie themselves into a knot. “I think I’m going to book some extra sessions with Julia. Maybe throw myself into my work as a distraction. I’ll be fine, Riley. It’s you kids I’m worried about . . . Violet, please help keep an eye on them for me. You have my number – if you’re worried about Riley at any point, just give me a call.”

  “I will,” Violet vows.

  “We should have more family movie nights,” Jack suggests.

  “I think that’s a good idea.” Mom smiles, grabbing his hand over the table. “Let’s try to see this a bit positively too.”

  Jack pulls his hand away from hers in mock disgust, but a betraying smile slides onto his face.

  “We’re going to be okay,” Mom assures us.

  I’m not sure if she herself believes it, but the sentiment is as comforting as her arms round me.

  11

  Swamp Monster

  “Twenty-eight . . . twenty-nine . . . thirty! Ready or not, here I come!” Alec’s voice ricochets faintly around the house, causing Millie to squirm in anticipation on my lap. After the meeting I left straight for next door to see Alec. We went to pick Millie up from preschool and have just come back, and now we’re playing hide and seek (Millie’s favourite game). Alec is upstairs right now, and Millie and I are crammed in the storage cupboard under the stairs. The amount of shoes and sharp things I’m sitting on now should be enough to take me into hospital. Uncomfortable is an understatement for this freaking cupboard.

  Above us, Alec’s footsteps are enough to make Millie fidget nervously again as he treks down the stairs. What is he, an elephant?

  “He’s doing that on purpose,” I mutter under my breath.

  Millie giggles quietly, curling further up into my lap. It’s pitch black in this darned cupboard, but even so I can tell that Millie’s eyes are sparkling with excitement. She adores her big brother, and recently I think she’s been truly warming up to me as well.

  Alec’s footsteps pass by the cupboard towards the lounge, and I hold my breath in anticipation. Part of me is wishing that Alec would hurry up and find us so that I can finally get out of this horrible torture chamber (I think I’m sitting on a Lego brick – the worst kind of pain), but then the other part is giggling in excitement, similar to what Millie’s doing now. “Shh.” I smile, putting my finger to her lips. She giggles again, more quietly this time, but it’s possible that Alec heard it.

  Sure enough, we don’t have to wait long until the footsteps head back towards us, and Millie tenses in my arms, releasing a high-pitched quiet squeal and shielding her eyes. “I wonder where they could be . . .” Alec ponders loudly outside, obviously for Millie’s sake.

  I snort in amusement but Millie gasps, squirming to get as far away from the cupboard door as possible. “Is that a giggle?” Alec’s footsteps get closer and closer, until I can hear him standing right outside of the door. Even I’m squirming at this point. “Is it coming from in there?” he muses. “No, can’t be. They’re much too big to fit in that tiny cupboard.”

  “Well excuse me,” I say sarcastically as I hear him walking away, and Millie screams as his footsteps stop, knowing that he’ll find us. He obviously heard me. To be honest, I think the whole street did – I said it purposefully loud. A smirk curves my lips as Alec swings open the door dramatically, his eyes searching for Millie.

  “Gotcha,” he whispers and grabs Millie by the waist. She screams loudly as he brings her up effortlessly to his chest, before blowing a raspberry on her bare stomach where her top has risen. She’s giggling and squirming as he tickles her, laughing. I watch on, feeling like a creep for watching such an intimate sibling moment, but it’s just too cute not to. You don’t see this part of Alec every day – I need to make the most of it.

  I think I need to move now. That Lego brick is imprinting itself into my ass.

  I shift and stand up in the cupboard, brushing off my jeans and pulling down my beanie. Alec glances at me and something flutters in my stomach. It’s getting so much more difficult to speak to him for some reason – it’s so difficult to explain.

  “So, squirt,” I call Millie as Alec places her down. “What do you want to do now?”

  Millie’s eyes light up with excitement. “Can we go to the park?”

  Immediately, Alec and I exchange a look as if to ask for the other’s approval. We’re actually kind of similar. It’s only about 4.30 p.m. so it’s not too late.

  “Sure we can.” Alec nods. “Go and put your jacket on and we’ll walk. I’ll even get you a lollipop if you’re sharpish.”

  Millie beams in awe before darting off upstairs to grab a jacket and leaving Alec and I on our own in the hallway. My cheeks begin to heat the moment that Alec looks at me. I curse internally.

  “Beanies suit you,” Alec says softly before jogging into the kitchen.

  I stand paralysed as my mind runs over those three words millions of times. Did Alec just compliment me? After a second, he returns, sliding some loose change into his pocket. He’s holding a packet of wild berry Skittles in his hand, and when he catches me staring at them he wriggles his eyebrows. He didn’t think anything of the compliment, which reassures and disappoints me at the same time.

  “Want to taste the rainbow, Riley?”

  I laugh. “I’d rather not, thanks.”

  “Lying to yourself again, huh?”

  I stare blankly at him. “You know, I’d like to see things from your perspective but I genuinely cannot fit my head that far up my ass. I mean, can you give me some tips? Is there, like, a Wikihow page I don’t know about?”

  Alec grins. “No, it’s much more complex than that. It’s all about the angle, Greene. You have to have a natural talent, like me.”

  “Oh, bite me.”

  “Just tell me where.” He winks. “You ready to go?”

  I nod in confirmation, just as Millie clomps down the stairs wearing her adorable little denim jacket. A wide-eyed and rather creepy ba
by doll is cradled in her arms.

  “Is Alicia coming too?” Alec asks Millie unhappily.

  Millie nods. “Of course, Alec. What kind of a mommy would I be if I left her here?”

  She says it so seriously that I burst into laughter. Alec groans, ushering us both out of the front door as I continue to giggle, and I barely have time to put my jacket on before we’re standing outside. Alec locks the front door behind us, and I take the liberty while his back is turned to steal the packet of Skittles from his jacket pocket. Of course, he notices.

  “The blue one?” he scoffs, frowning. “What are you, a smurf? The red one is clearly the people’s favourite.” He snatches the pack back from me and we walk down the driveway towards the sidewalk as he shovels red Skittles in his mouth. I scowl at him; the red ones taste amazing, but the blue ones dye your tongue. So much more fun, let’s be honest.

  “I beg to differ,” I chime, shoving a few more carefully selected blue Skittles into my mouth. “Blue is underrated. I’m like a Skittle hipster – I don’t go for the mainstream flavours.”

  Millie looks back from her place skipping ahead in front of us, nodding in agreement. I offer her a high five.

  “I’ve got red, you’ve got blue . . . Wanna make purple?” Alec winks, leaning in to make kissy noises in my ear.

  I squeal a little bit and shift away, throwing a sweet at him in defence. I have incredibly sensitive ears. It’s my weak spot. I watch sadly as the poor defenceless green Skittle hits him on the nose, before falling to the floor with a clatter.

  “You’re a waste of Skittles,” I huff. “Stop hitting on me, dude.”

  “Hitting on you?” Alec raises an eyebrow. “I don’t need to hit on girls to make them fall at my feet.”

  “Cocky grasshole,” I mutter.

  “I’m sorry, what was that, Riley?” Alec says. “Something about my cock? Don’t worry, girl. I can assure you that it’s in perfect condition.”