“Okay, that’ll be all.” The director nods to the door. “You can leave my door open on your way out.”
With shallow breaths, I stride across his office and let myself out of his already cracked door. I turn the corner and there—standing against the wall—is Riel. He heard everything. There’s no way he couldn’t have.
He doesn’t say a word to me. I try to read his expression, but it’s empty. Completely empty. Shame cramps through my chest, and I turn away. I can’t take his disappointment.
I don’t want to go back to the dorm and the girls there. I don’t want to face any of them right now. Instead, I go straight to the academy’s fitness center and into the locker room. As I change clothes, my emotions whirl, slowly building from the shame to full-on anger and disgust at myself.
Five minutes later, I charge into the MMA room. I snatch a pair of gloves off the wall, yank them on, and go straight for the punching bag. With a scream that ricochets through my body I attack the bag, punching, kicking, kneeing, and elbowing it. Minutes tick by and sweat flings through the air. The sight of it fuels my adrenaline and makes me jab harder. My deep breaths echo through the empty room as my feet skirt around the bag, and I become inordinately aware of my grunts. The animalistic sound of them feeds my soul.
Letting out a guttural cry, I zero in on the hanging bag, pummeling it with every ounce of fury, frustration, humiliation, and defiance I carry in my soul. I tear my gloves off and run at the bag, screaming and kicking it over and over again.
Blood slowly stains the bag, and I fall to my knees, gulping for breath. Time passes, but I have no clue how long. All I know is my shoulder’s killing me, and it feels like I rebruised my rib.
When I finally lift my head, I see Riel staring at me from the other side of the glass door. He opens it and steps inside the shadowed room, and I stop breathing. What is he going to say?
Silently, he crosses the room to where I sit and hands me a towel. I wipe the sweat from my face first, then dab at my busted knuckles.
He remains standing, looking down at me. I don’t know if he’s waiting for me to speak first, but I don’t. Does he hate me as much as I hate myself right now?
“I’m”—he takes a breath—“upset.”
I lift my eyes and gaze up at him, and my heart cracks when I see the regret and betrayal in his face. I put it there. Me.
“I’m going to need time to think about everything,” he quietly tells me.
I nod.
“You were supposed to watch Mar tonight?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Tears burn a hot path straight up my throat right to my eyes, and I can’t stop them from filling up. “Okay.”
“Viola?”
I look down at the towel in my hands and sniff. “Yes?”
“Please don’t go anywhere,” he says. “Please stay on campus. Stay safe.”
More tears well and fall, and I simply nod. He’s upset with me and yet he still reminds me to stay safe.
He crosses the room and quietly lets himself out, and I stay right here on the floor and cry.
Chapter Fifty-One
On Friday, I do exactly what Director Williams said. I get up and I go to classes. I don’t look at anybody; I just keep my head down and go through the motions.
On Saturday Gillian asks, “You want to practice some self-defense stuff?”
“No,” I say and roll over in my bed. I just want to be left alone.
On Sunday, I spend the day in the library in my own solitary cubicle, studying, studying, studying. It’s what I’ve always done best.
Monday I’m aware of Riel in economics. I’m aware because I sit in the back and he sits in the front, and all I do is stare at the back of his dark head for an hour and a half. I’m…upset. That’s what he said. He didn’t yell, he didn’t throw things, he just calmly put it out there.
When class releases, I stare at Riel, willing him to look my way. Then he does, and my heart leaps for joy. But then he politely nods, grabs his stuff, and walks out, leaving me sitting, heart cracking all over again.
Tuesday Abbie passes me in the hall and just sneers. I imagine poking her eye out with my point-nine mechanical pencil, and it makes me feel marginally better.
By Wednesday, I’m crawling out of my skin. Peter smiles at me during lunch, and the peculiar sadness of it takes me off guard. No one has smiled at me in days. I find it odd that Peter is the one to do so.
Thursday I see Riel in the Student Center. I’m on one side, and he’s on the other. As if sensing me, he glances up, and everything surrounding us fades to just him. And me.
I stare.
He stares.
But neither one of us moves. Come talk to me, I silently implore. Please. Tell me what you’re thinking. Even if you’re upset, tell me. Talk to me. I need to hear your voice. But he doesn’t move, and so neither do I.
On Friday, I’m ready to storm into the administrative area and demand somebody tell me something. But then the door opens to my calc class, a student enters and hands the instructor a note, then the teacher looks up and right at me and I know this is it.
“Director Williams would like to see you, Miss Burnett.”
I nod. I know.
The entire room is dead silent as I get my bag and make my way out. In an hour I’m probably going to be packing all my things and heading home to Tennessee. I’ll get my job back at KFC. I’ll go back to my old high school. I’ll go back to helping my momma with the twins.
Right back at square one. The irony of it all hits me. That girl from that family. I’ve come full circle all right. All my dreams of starting over are gone. How naive of me to think I even could.
With a deep breath, I tap on the director’s door.
“Come in,” he calls.
The cop handling my case stands beside the director’s desk, and my steps falter as hope sparks in me. Please God, please let them have found Manny.
They both motion for me to sit, and shakily I do.
The cop simply nods, as if reading my mind. “He’s in custody.”
I release a quivering breath. “Where did you find him?”
“Miami. But he claims he had nothing to do with your attack. He also claims he had nothing to do with the rape of that teenage girl or the young woman who was found strangled and beaten to death in the woods.”
Something frigid slinks through me. How did I date this guy for a year and not know?
“He claims innocence,” the cop says. “The evidence will show otherwise.”
I take a second to digest it all. “So I’m…free?” I ask, for lack of a better word.
“You’re out of danger,” the cop clarifies.
He shakes my hand, reminds me to call him with any questions, and sees himself out.
I look at the director, and his expression is gentle as he looks back. “I’m glad for your news,” he tells me.
“Thank you.”
We fall silent for a few seconds as I slowly digest everything. Me coming here. My ex following. Watching. Stalking. Scaring. Attacking me. Anger burns through my chest, followed by an overwhelming flood of relief. It’s over. Manny’s been arrested.
“Viola,” Director Williams quietly says. “We do need to discuss other things as well.”
I focus in on him. Here we go.
“I’ve met with Mr. Farmer and the board. Effective immediately, your scholarship has been pulled and awarded to Riel in a retroactive status. All tuition he has paid will be refunded and covered by the scholarship. You will be expected to pay back your tuition and other miscellaneous expenses you’ve accrued since being here. Dormitory, meals, et cetera. You will also receive a disciplinary letter in your academic file.”
I listen. I hear his words. But they bounce around in my head, echoing, blurring, fuzzing together.
“As you know, you are past the deadline to withdraw and receive an incomplete. If you withdraw, you will fail this semester
.”
Incomplete. Disciplinary letter. Pay back expenses. Fail. My hands curl into two tight fists. This can’t be happening.
“Viola, I’m not impervious to your plight. I do understand why you did what you did, and I do like you. I think you’re going to do grand and wonderful things with your life. So this is my offer to you. I’ll set up a doable payment plan with the finance office for your back expenses. I will also let you withdraw and receive an incomplete versus an F.”
The tightness in my chest loosens a little bit. Doable payment plan. Withdraw with an incomplete.
He folds his hands on top of his desk. “I know going here and on to MIT is your dream. You can make that dream come true, but unfortunately it’s not going to be through us.”
My throat closes together, and stiffly, I make myself stand and hold out my hand. “I’m sorry to have caused so many problems. Thank you, Director Williams, for the generous offer of a payment plan and for the incomplete versus the F.”
He shakes my hand. “We all make mistakes, and I meant it when I said I have no doubt you will do grand and wonderful things with your life someday.”
I hear his words, I really do, but right now I don’t see how that’s even possible.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Waves of failure wash over me as I make my way to my dorm room. Failure. Disappointment. Loss. I have no one to blame but myself. What the hell am I going to do? I don’t know. But I can’t stay here.
So I start packing.
Gillian walks in. “I heard.”
I ignore her and keep packing.
“Viola, I’m really sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” I snap, and it feels good to snap. Snapping’s much better than the zombie I’ve been channeling for the past week.
“For everything. I hate all of it. I just want us to be friends again.”
“Friends?” I bark a laugh. “I’m leaving. Actually, I can’t wait to get out of here. Why did I ever think I would fit into a place like this?” I scoff. “You and all these rich snobs. I have no place here. I’m so stupid. Twelve years old and I was wearing a T-shirt from this place I wanted it so bad. Now I can’t wait to get as far away as possible.”
“Don’t say that.”
I march over to the dresser, grab a wad of my clothes, and cram it into the duffel bag Levi gave me as a congratulatory gift when I got in here.
“I’m going to ask my parents if they’ll pay your tuition.”
I whip around. “No! Absolutely not! My God, do you know how that sounds?” I grab my head. “I can’t even comprehend that. I wear dollar store flip-flops and you just offered to pay for my sixty-thousand-dollar tuition? No! You’re unbelievable. All of y’all around here are. None of you realize how good you have it. None of you appreciate this education.” I jab my finger at her. “And you coming to school weeks late. I can’t imagine! You take it all for granted.”
She just looks at me.
Then her mouth opens. Closes. Opens again.
She knows I’m right, and I’m done. I’m so done with this place. I shove the rest of my things into the duffle, zip it up, and storm out.
I walk right across the campus to the coastal highway, turn right, and head north. I have no clue of my destination, all I know is that I need out of here. Now.
About ten minutes in I see the movie theater on the right and immediately think of that skinny woman coming out of the ice cream shop with that kid on her hip. I should’ve known back then when Abbie called that woman trash that none of this would work out.
A car slows beside me. I drop my duffel, reach inside my purse, and grab my pepper spray. I will not be helpless.
“Need a lift?” an elderly woman asks.
It takes me a second to register she’s just an old lady, before I breathe out. “No, ma’am. I’m fine.”
She gives me a skeptical look, then with a nod, she pulls away.
I keep my pepper spray out and ready and start walking again. I wish somebody mean would stop just so I can spray this thing.
The movie theater comes and goes and the highway eventually narrows to two lanes. A horn honks, and Abbie zips by in her BMW. Out the convertible she flips me a bird. Unbelievable. She’s “won” and still feels the need to rub my nose in it.
My phone rings and I check the caller to see it’s Levi. “I hate this place,” I answer. “I lost my scholarship.”
“Oh no. I’m so sorry. How you getting home?”
“Same way I got here. Bus.”
“They caught Manny,” he tells me.
“Yeah, I know.”
“Listen, you’re no worse off. You’ve been through a helluva lot more than this.”
I nod, promising myself I won’t cry.
“Want me to send some money? Want me to call your momma and tell her? Want me to beat someone up?”
I give a tired laugh. “No to everything. I’ll figure everything out. Listen, I’ll call you later. I’m not much in the mood to talk right now.”
“Okay, be safe. Call if you need anything.”
“Will do.” I slide my cell into my jacket pocket, wishing I would’ve changed from my academy dress code, wishing I knew what to do. It’s just so freaking hard to lose everything I worked years to obtain. It sucks. It really sucks.
Another car engine comes up behind me, and I lift my pepper spray as I glance over my shoulder and see Riel’s Jeep. Despite my foul mood, my pulse still quickens.
He cuts in front of me and pulls off to the side. “Are you insane?”
I show him my pepper spray. “I think I might be.”
“Viola.” He sighs. “What am I going to do with you?” He leans over and opens the passenger door. “Get in.”
I don’t.
“Please?”
With a sigh of my own I toss my duffel into the back and climb in. “I could use a lift to the bus station.”
He pulls back onto the highway. “I’m not taking you to the bus station.”
I close my eyes and drop my head back. “Fine. Take me wherever. It’s not like I have any place to be. Go ahead and yell at me. Get it off your chest.”
But Riel doesn’t say a thing. He just drives, and I don’t say anything, either. I need to breathe and calm down. I can’t believe I stormed off campus. I can’t believe I took off walking up the highway. Jesus. What is wrong with me?
His speed increases and the wind whips through the open Jeep surrounding us with the ocean and the sunshine and the amazingness that is the Keys. I’m really going to miss this place. I’m really going to miss Riel—my heart sinks—and Mar.
The Jeep slows, and I open my eyes to see him pulling into the marina.
I sit up. “What are we doing here?”
He rolls in to an empty spot, pulls his emergency brake, and cuts the engine. He turns to look at me, and I wish he wasn’t wearing shades. I want to see his eyes. “You and I,” he says, “we’re going sailing. We’re going to talk through all this. Then we’re going to strategize what to do for you.”
Chapter Fifty-Three
I sit for a second, my thoughts befuddled. Sailing. Talking. Strategizing. Did he really just say all that? “Aren’t you mad at me?”
“That’s why we’re going to talk.” He opens his door. “Let’s go.”
He didn’t say he wasn’t mad at me, but I open my door anyway and climb out. “What about Mar?”
“This is the weekend her class goes to DC.”
Right. I remember her mentioning that. She was bummed to be rooming with some girl named Brooke.
“Let me just go tell Mr. Hamns, and I’ll be right back.”
I take in his academy jacket and dress pants. “What about your clothes?”
He waves that off. “I’ve got stuff on the boat.”
I watch as he jogs down the dock and across toward the Windbreaker Café. I don’t know what to do, so I prop myself on the Jeep’s bumper, and as I wait, my gaze trails over to The Quest. There sits creepy Bud on t
he bow coiling rope, in the exact same place he was the very first time I saw him.
I guess he’s back from Alaska, and even though he wasn’t the one who stalked and attacked me, he still creeps me out.
Riel comes back out of the café and jogs the length of the dock. He comes to a stop beside a wood sailboat I guess to be about thirty or so feet. He looks up to the parking lot and waves me down, and I grab my duffel.
As I walk toward him, I watch him unlock the hatch, slide the wood slats out, and stow them. Then he goes down below and opens other hatches and portholes to let in fresh air. When he comes back out, I’m still standing beside the boat, and suddenly I remember the last one we were on, and the storm. Maybe this isn’t such a great idea.
Riel holds his hand out and helps me on board. “This is Mr. Hamns’s personal boat. He lets us use it whenever we want. In exchange, Mar keeps it polished and clean.”
“Sounds like a good deal.”
“It is.” Riel smiles, and it’s the first one I’ve seen on him in a week. I’ve missed that smile.
“I was just thinking about the last time we were on a boat,” I admit.
Riel shakes his head. “No worries. We’re not going but maybe a mile off shore. It’s shallow. There’s a reef. Snorkeling if we want. Weather’s going to be good. Seriously, no worries.”
A mile. That’s not far. Heck, I can swim a mile if I need to.
“Come on.” He leads me below deck. “Let’s get changed and get out of here.”
I follow him down, taking in the gleaming wood and brass fixtures and inhaling the scent of a recent polish. “Luxurious,” I say.
“Like I said, Mar takes care of it.” He points to the back of the boat. “You can change back there.” He nods to the front. “I’ll change up here and we’ll meet up top.”
“Riel?” I say, and he turns back. “Thank you.”
He gives me another smile. “Let’s get out of here and then we can talk.”
He disappears to the front, and I take my stuff to the back and close the door. I don’t know if we’re staying the night on here or not. But I honestly can’t think of any other place I’d rather be right now. Alone on a boat with Riel.
Watching You Page 16