by B. K. Leigh
“What makes no sense is why we can’t just go to the store and buy you your own baggy clothes.”
“But these one’s smell like you. You know it calms me down.” I remind him.
“Fine!” he lays backward and throws his arm to the side. “Come here, brat.” He says as he pats the space next to him. It doesn’t take long for me to make myself comfortable by his side. It’s the only place where I can be completely at ease.
“Are you still gonna go?” I ask him as I snuggle in close.
“You bet your ass I am.” He shakes his head yes as I roll my eyes.
∞∞∞
“You know you didn’t have to come if you didn’t want to?” Cohen reminds me as we pull into the packed parking lot. He’s right. I didn’t want to come, but I had even less interest in sitting at home by myself.
“I know.” I tell him as I hop out of the passenger side of his Bronco the minute he slams it into park. “I couldn’t let you have all the fun though.” I say dryly.
“There’s only one reason why I’m here,” He wiggles his eyebrows. “And her name is Cassie Stamer.” He finishes.
“You’re relentless.” I roll my eyes. We walk in the direction of the ticket booth and wait in the long line of people heading into the football stadium. Football games are big here, but I don’t know if it’s the socialism the people come for, or the actual game itself.
It doesn’t take long before Cohen finds exactly what he was looking for. Cassie Stamer and her gang of cheerleaders hang on him as if he were a gift sent from God himself. I don’t blame them, Cohen is attractive and then some, but it’s not a line I would ever cross or want to. The squeeze of his fingers around mine brings me back to the here and now.
“Are you alright?” He asks me as the attention lands on someone else. I nod my head yes. “You sure, Tate?” He asks me again.
“Yeah, I’m fine Co.” I bump his shoulder with mine for reassurance. “I think I’m going to go get a drink though, you want anything?” I ask him as I pull away from him. I don’t miss the way his eyes shrink together while staring deep holes into my own. He knows. He always does. “Seriously, Cohen. I’m fine.” I tell him again. By this time the group of girls have all of their focus back on us now, and uncomfortable doesn’t even begin to describe it. He turns us away from their prying eyes just for a second.
“Is it the...” He gives me a nod toward my stomach. “Do you feel sick or anything.” He whispers to me again.
“Cohen!” I whine in a whisper. “I’m fine, I’m just going to get a drink. Stop worrying!” I tell him again. He’s being protective, and I appreciate it, but sometimes it feels a little overbearing. Mostly when anxiety begins to set in.
“You’ll tell me though?” He asks around anxious breaths. “If you need anything?”
“Yes, I’ll tell you.” I promise him as he wraps his arms around my shoulders and pulls me in close.
“I love you, baby girl.” He whispers one last time.
“Love you too, Cohen.” Replying I squeeze him tightly. “Go get your girl.” I say around a light chuckle.
“Definitely plan on it.” He says excitedly. We part ways, him turning back towards Cassie, and me heading in the opposite direction. I don’t miss the strange looks I get as I turn away, but I also don’t mind them either. I’ve never cared about what anyone had to say about mine and Cohen’s friendship.
The air around me is thick with laughter, conversation, and cheers, as the home team dominates the field. People of all ages stand in groups, and gather on the bleachers.
“Look who it is.” A voice calls at my back.
“Would you look at that?” I hear Stanley say next. I should have figured they were together. Wherever Stanley goes, Lucas is right beside him. “Never thought I’d see Tatum O’Neil at a football game ever again.” He adds in. I suck in a breath and turn to face the two of them.
“Hey guys.” I say with a smile on my face. “What’s up?” I ask next. Be your old self. I have to remind myself more than once.
“What are you even doing here?” Lucas asks me next.
“I came with Cohen.” I tell him the obvious.
“Should have known that, you don’t go anywhere without him.” He tells me as if it gets on his own nerves. My eyebrows pinch together at his annoyance.
“Didn’t we just see him leave though?” Stanley asks as he elbows his friend in the side. “That was him right? With that blonde chick?”
“She had some fine tits.” Lucas gestures to his chest showing me just how big he thought they were. Another elbow gets thrown. “Hey, I got a dime bag you wanna head over to our spot?” He asks me next. I don’t want to do anything with them, and can’t understand why I ever had in the past.
“I don’t know.” I tell them unsure. “Cohen’s probably waiting for me.” I say as I bring my phone out to send him an SOS.
“Doesn’t look like he’ll be needing you for a while.” Stanley chimes in.
“I don’t know, I’d give it a few minutes.” Lucas jokes next.
“Maybe next time.” I shrug as I answer and take a step back.
“Wait!” Stanley shoots his arm out and takes hold of mine. “Come on, Tatum. Just one bowl, for old time sake?” He tries to sweet talk me.
“Fine!” I give in. “Just one.” I say, knowing full well I won’t touch whatever they have to offer. We head underneath the bleachers all the way to the back corner where we can be out of sight and out of mind. It won’t be hard to find us, or to smell us once the bowl is lit. The further back we can be the better chance we have to run if needed.
“Didn’t think I’d ever smoke a bowl with you again.” Stanley admits as he places the lighter right above the packed weed.
“I didn’t think I’d ever see you at a game again.” Lucas chimes in next. “Not after what happened to your dad and all.” He adds. My heart clenches at the mere thought of it. With everything happening in my life lately I’ve barely had time to think about it. I’ve barely had time to think about them. Right about now I wish I could take a hit from that small glass bowl and try my best to forget about it all.
“Here.” Stanley extends his hand in my direction after letting out a long exhale of smoke. He sighs in satisfaction. My fingers itch to twine themselves around the hand blown glass. My lungs sigh at the burn they’ll never feel.
“Lucas can go next.” I offer up my spot on the happy train, and Lucas doesn’t object. My heart aches with the thought of my father weighing heavily on my mind. He’d be disappointed in me. This road isn’t the one he would have wanted me to take. I was that girl before they died. And afterwards I promised them I’d never be that girl again. But it’s hard to make promises I know I won’t keep.
“Next.” Lucas says as he shoves the bowl back in my direction. For some reason I take it. “Shit’s good tonight.” I swear I watch his eyes roll into the back of his head.
“What are you waiting for, Tate?” Stanley pressures me from the sideline. “I swear it’s some premium shit, only the best for you.” He shoots me a wink. A gesture with all efforts to be charming I’m sure. Inwardly I cringe. Slowly I raise the small piece of glass upwards until it’s only about an inch away from my lips.
“Don’t let it burn out, Tate.” Lucas warns me. I eye the red hot embers. They’ll only get brighter the second I inhale. A scene I had always been fascinated with.
I’m going to hell for this.
I think to myself as I put the glass directly against my lips.
“Mr. Mackenzie!” I jump at the sound of a foreign voice and the glass bowl is dropped from my hands. I watch as it shatters against the concrete ground beneath us, breaking into a million tiny pieces. “Mr. Bearing, Miss O'Neil?” Fuck. My. Life.
“Fuck!” Fuck is right. Stanley drops to the ground to pick up the broken shards of glass. I kneel to help him, but I can feel the anger radiating off of him. “It’s a teacher.” His movements pick up pace. “We’re in so much trouble, he’
s gonna kill us!” He whisper shouts in a hurry.
“You stupid bitch!” Lucas bites out. My heart beats wildly out of my chest as the sound of heavy footsteps grow louder and louder the closer they get. “That was the last of it.” He whines. We stand at once and brace our selves for the figure emerging from the darkness.
“What are you guys doing back here?” He asks, knowing full well what we were previously doing. Even a fool couldn’t ignore the smell of freshly burnt weed. It reeks back here, and we’re the only ones around. We’re caught red handed, and there’s no doubt about it.
“Mr. Matthews.” Stanley steps in front of Lucas and I. “It’s nice to see you out of school for once.” He tries his best to make small talk. I don’t have to look up to know Killian’s eyes are solely on me. They’ve been burning holes through me the second he came into view. As his attention shifts to the two boys beside me I pull my phone from the pocket of my ripped jeans and send a text to Cohen.
Tatum: S-O-Fucking S!
He replies almost immediately.
CoCo: Right now?
Tatum: Yes! Right now.
CoCo: Can’t it wait? I’m not...You know.
My face contorts at the thought of interrupting my best friend while he’s in the most vulnerable of positions.
Tatum: Gross.. Fuck you, Co.
CoCo: Don’t you mean fuck Cassie? ;)
I smirk at his winky face.
“Something funny, Miss O’Neil?” I hear his deep condescending voice land on me next. My eyes snap up to his, and like the depths of the ocean they suck me in completely. He raises an eyebrow in question, waiting for me to give him an answer. I shake my head, unable to form any words. This man always seems to bring out the stupid in me.
He’s self righteous, intimidating, and every time he comes near it’s as if my body knows exactly who he is. Like magnets drawn to each other. A gravitational pull that can’t be ignored, although he does a good job at trying. He makes it look so easy. It only makes me more mad that we’re stuck in this situation. Where I’m just a petulant child in his eyes, and he’s the authority figure who couldn’t care less.
“What were you guys doing back here?” He questions the three of us while sticking his nose in the air as if to tell us he already knows.
“Nothing, I swear!” Lucas throws out next. As if we didn’t already look guilty enough his sudden outburst is enough to implicate all of us.
“Sure smells like it.” He mumbles. I smirk at his remark. While the two boys beside me tremble, I on the other hand feign boredom.
“I swear, we just came back here to talk.” Stanley tries next. Killian’s eyes come to mine next and I just shrug my shoulders. If there’s anything I’ve learned in situations like these it’s deny, deny, deny.
If you’re not caught in the act, then it never happened. And right now, it never happened. Just like that hot summer night all those weeks ago. Almost eight to be exact. As if he can read my mind, I watch his eyes turn from the usual blue they are to a deep navy that resembles that of an impending hurricane. Dark in color, dangerous with emotion, and completely on edge.
“To talk?” His eyes roam over the three of us once more as if assessing the situation again. See? Deny, deny, deny. It always works.
“Yes.” The two beside me mumble at the same time. I turn my head to the side, ignoring them, growing more and more impatient by the minute.
“Fine.” Killian says exasperated. “I better not see the three of you down here again.” His voice grows stern, authoritative even. I snicker at the thought of club Killian being this stuck up responsible person before me.
“You guys can go.” I hear the heavy sighs of relief next to me and step forward to leave.
“Something amusing to you, Miss O’Neil?” He asks as soon as the other two boys are out of ear shot.
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Killian.” His name rolling off my tongue stops him in his tracks. I’m left with the satisfying feeling of him watching me leave until I’m completely out of sight.
Chapter 8
Tatum
I didn’t stop walking once I found my way out from under the bleachers. I walked past all of the happy families, the excited students, and the parked cars lining the packed parking lot. I headed home. I couldn’t stay there without Cohen, not without my safety net. And that’s exactly what he is. I went there knowing I’d have him to save me from the past if need be. To block out the raging memories threatening to pull me under. In another world, I would have grabbed that bowl and inhaled every last bit of weed until I couldn’t think straight anymore. But this isn’t that world, and my reality is a harsh reminder of that.
The air is turning colder the later in the year it gets. It’s not even October yet, but the night air has a chill to it, covering my spine in goosebumps. I huddle in Cohen’s sweatshirt as deep as I can as the chill wraps around me like an unwelcome blanket. It’s nights like these I wish Grams didn’t live all the way on the edge of town. Nights like these where I wish Cohen didn’t convince me to go out in the first place. Now I’m just stuck here, walking down the long and winding road in complete darkness. The only sound is the peepers from the swamps I pass by every now and again.
Back in the day Cohen and I would find ourselves knee deep in murky water, covered in mud from head to toe as we ran around trying to catch as many frogs as we could. We’d go wild and crazy, trying to fill our small bucket up with as many frogs as we could possibly find. After many nights of hearing their loud buzzing noises we came up with a knew name for them. Peepers. We’ve never referred to them as anything else since.
Thinking of Cohen distracts me from the loneliness I feel in this moment. It’s just me, and that thought alone is alarming. It’s always me and… someone. Cohen, Grams, my parents. It’s never just Tatum.
The darkened road lights up with head lights, illuminating all of the unknown around me. I look over my shoulder to see the car coming at me slow down. My heart rate picks up as my mind works over who could be behind the wheel. It’s not Cohen, although I wish it was. I could spot his big rust bucket from a mile away, and although it’s one of the most unsafe places I could ever be, it does make me feel safe. What a complete oxymoron.
“Tatum.” My name is called as the car comes to a stop and the window rolls down slowly. I let out a shaky breath, relieved to see him and not some crazed serial killer. I keep walking, and the car beside begins to keep pace. “Tatum?” He says my name around a sigh. I look over at him once, then turn my focus back on the road before me.
“Can I bring you home?” He questions although he seems completely unsure of himself.
“I’ll be fine.” I mutter. I hug Cohen’s sweatshirt around myself tighter, hoping to block out Killian’s prying eyes.
“It’s late. How long have you been walking for?” He asks me next. He sounds exhausted. It’s amazing that he can even focus his attention on me while driving, when I can barely walk and talk at the same time. Thinking back on his question I pull my phone out of my pocket and check the time. It’s almost midnight. Which means I’ve been walking for the better part of a couple hours, completely transfixed on my own thoughts. There’s also a couple missed texts from Cohen.
Coco: Where are you? I went to Grams.
CoCo: Dammit, Tate. Where the fuck are you?
That was over an hour ago. He must’ve gotten his fix and then went home… to my home. I pick my speed up in efforts to get home faster, ignoring Killian while I do so. All I need is to go home, get in bed, and cuddle with Co. It’s the only thing that helps after a rough day. And after the way my thoughts have assaulted me all day, rough is an understatement.
“Can you please just get in the car, Tatum?” Killian continues to plead with me.
“It’s only a few more miles. I’m fine.” I utter in his direction.
“I can’t in good conscience let you walk home all alone in the dark.” He tells me next. Oh great, he’s a hero now.
“It’s fine. I don’t need you worrying about me at all.” I snap out. He can’t see the small movement, but I move my hand against my belly inside the sweatshirt, sending unsaid promises to the being within.
I’ll keep you safe.
Don’t worry.
It can’t hear me. It can’t feel me. It probably doesn’t even realize it’s an it yet, but I know. And I won’t let anything hurt it.
“Please, Tatum?” He tries one last time.
“Fine.” I say in a huff. Reluctantly I relent and hop in. I cross my arms over my chest and fold into myself. Cohen’s sweatshirt wraps around me like a safety blanket. The first few minutes is unbearable. The cab of his small car is excruciatingly suffocating. I roll the window down and lean my head against the door, letting the chill of the night seep deep into my bones.
“You okay?” Killian breaks the silence with nothing but worry in his voice.
“Fine.” I close my eyes as I’m assaulted with the cool air whipping against my face like a swarm of angry bees.
“Look-” He begins but I stop him almost immediately.
“You don’t have to say anything.” I say in defeat. “I get it.” It’s weird to be here. It’s weird to have him sitting next to me as two different people. Killian, the guy from the club. The guy who took me against that wall with a sense of raw passion I had never felt before. And then there’s this version. The Mr. Matthews version. The Killian who forgot about that night and see’s me as nothing more than an annoying teenager. I’m eighteen now. An adult to the world and everybody else, but him. And that fact alone grinds my gears in all the wrong ways.
“No one can know about it, Tatum. You need to forget about it.” He tells me next.
“Like you have?” I accuse him. There’s only one problem here, no matter how badly I can try to forget, the growing life inside of me will never let that happen.
“Yes.” He says with conviction. “Just like I have.” His words are final. My heart cracks just a little bit more. The hope I was still holding onto dissolves. I don’t know what I was expecting to begin with. I slept with my teacher and ended up pregnant. That act is enough to upset society. There’s no way I was ever going to find some happy ending out of this.