by Abbi Glines
I knew that the people who had witnessed the wreck said it looked like Mrs. Wise had lost control. Maybe if Haegan hadn’t been high, he’d have been able to react and get out of the way. But he’d not seen her car come barreling out of control, and she slammed into us head on. I hadn’t seen it either. I had been looking in his direction. My mind wasn’t clear. It might not have saved Mrs. Wise, but there was a chance Haegan would be alive.
“I’m coming back next week. I’ll be there Monday.” My dad had already said I had to get back to life. He’d let me stay out long enough.
“Come back tomorrow. Help me with this freshman.”
“Not sure I can help him,” I replied. That was the truth.
“It can’t get any worse. At least we can say we tried. And it’ll give you a distraction.”
I stared at the television in front of me. This was all I had been doing for a week. I was tired of ESPN. But going back to school meant facing Tallulah. I already had to face the attention I was going to get from everyone else over the accident. Seeing her was going to make it harder.
“Okay,” I agreed. I had to go ahead and get it over with. Dreading it made it worse.
Ryker grinned. “Really? You’ll come back. Help me with Kip?”
“Who’s Kip?”
“The freshman,” he reminded me.
“Oh. Yeah.”
He leaned back on the sofa and kicked his feet up on the ottoman. “You got beers hidden up here?”
I shook my head. “No. My parents are being strict with that shit. Mom is worried I have a drug problem.”
He frowned. “And beer has something to do with that?
I shrugged. “In her eyes it’s all the same.”
“I don’t need it anyway. I need to drink more water.”
“I’ve got plenty of that in the fridge.”
He turned his head and looked at me. “You ever gonna tell me what she did?”
We were back to Tallulah again.
“No,” I said without pause.
He sighed. “Fine. But I think you’re making a mistake.”
I didn’t argue. Because he’d push for the reason why again. I just let it go. I knew my reasons.
I Don’t Smell Bad, Tallulah
CHAPTER 39
TALLULAH
Mr. Dace had been absent the day before when I’d arrived to his room to do my teacher’s assistant work. He always left a note with instructions for me. I was thankful he wasn’t there. Being in his class was hard enough. I could feel him watching me even when I wouldn’t make eye contact with him. I’d almost told my mom about the kiss. But I hadn’t because I was afraid of the outcome.
I wanted to forget it. Forget all he had said. Nash hadn’t been back at school either, so I was living with the ache of losing him and not being sure why. After a week and not hearing from him, I had accepted that it was done. Between my broken heart and the secret I was hiding about Mr. Dace, I was a basket of emotions. I didn’t want to leave my bedroom every day.
Brett Darby wasn’t helping things. He wouldn’t leave me alone. I just wanted some silence during lunch, but he thought my sitting alone meant I needed company. He had started showing up in the classes we didn’t have together to walk me to my next one. He talked a lot. He liked to talk about himself. I knew he had been playing tennis since he was three, his favorite food was sushi, his middle name was Miller after his grandfather, he drank coffee every morning with three boiled eggs, and he wore a size-twelve shoe. I could promise you he didn’t know any of that about me. He didn’t require I talk. He did the talking, and as long as it appeared I was listening, he was happy.
That being the case, he had become harder to shake all week. My silence seemed to make him happy. In his head, I was enjoying his constant chatter. In reality, it was giving me an escape. At least when he was going on about his last tennis match or the next pair of shoes he was going to buy, I wasn’t thinking about my problem with Mr. Dace or the pain left from Nash.
Yesterday Mr. Dace had asked in his note that I come in at seven fifteen to work on the grading log on his computer. I didn’t like coming in early. There was hardly anyone there, and the teachers that were there were in their rooms working. No students were in the building. It was too quiet. If Mr. Dace wasn’t going to be there, I would be fine. But the idea I’d be alone with him in his room made me nervous.
My hope that he would continue his absence when I was in his room was dashed as soon as I opened his door at exactly seven fifteen and saw him sitting at his desk. A sick knot I’d become all too familiar with tightened in my gut.
He smiled and waved to two cups of coffee on his desk along with some bakery items from the coffee shop down the road. I recognized the cups.
“Come have some caffeine and sugar. I’ll get the computer set up for you. It’s still in my bag. Just got here myself.”
His tone was cheery and friendly. As if he hadn’t told me he loved me and kissed me. He almost sounded normal. Like a teacher who wasn’t hitting on his student. Maybe he was going to act like it never happened too.
“Okay, thanks,” I replied, trying not to sound as nervous and uncomfortable as I was.
I took the cup of coffee but didn’t take anything to eat and sat at the desk in front of him, ignoring the chair he had pulled up to his desk directly to the left of him. I wasn’t sitting that close to him.
He looked over at me as he pulled his laptop out of his bag and gave me a crooked grin. As if he was teasing me or thought I was being silly. “I don’t smell bad, Tallulah,” he said.
I was aware of that. He knew my reasons for sitting here. “This is a more comfortable spot. Gives us both plenty of room to work.”
He opened his laptop, then walked around the table with it in his hands. I scooted back in my seat, trying to get more distance from him as he placed it on the desk in front of me. He didn’t seem to notice I wanted my personal space. Or he didn’t care.
“You know how this works.” His voice had dropped lower. As if he were talking quietly so no one heard us. “The grades are in the basket on my desk.”
I nodded, wishing he’d move away. Not continue to linger there in my personal space. It had moved past inappropriate now. I started to say something to him and ask him to move when he turned his head, and our faces were inches apart.
“I miss you,” he said in a soft voice that made my spine tingle in a very bad way.
“Please move back,” I said. My voice meant to be stern, but my building fear made it waver nervously.
“I won’t hurt you, Tallulah. You know that.” He leaned in like he was going to kiss me again, and I used my hands to shove him back. His chest was hard, and he didn’t budge.
“You’re thinking too much about this. No one will know. It’s okay.” He was whispering against my lips, and I jerked my head to the side to miss his mouth and it landed on my cheek.
He lingered there, and I closed my eyes as tears stung them. I hated this. I should have told my mother. I shouldn’t have thought it was over. I made a huge mistake.
“I love you.” His voice now sad. Much like it had been the last time. “He doesn’t. He has not come back here. Another guy is moving in on you, and he’s just letting him. I’d never shut you out. I’d always be here for you.”
I fought back the scream building in my throat. If he’d move back, I could run. Run to get away from this. Run home and tell my mother. Stay in my room alone. I didn’t want this attention. This had never been what I was after. Ever.
A sound from in the hallway came just when I needed it to. Mr. Dace was gone and back on his side of the desk in the blink of an eye. He’d moved fast. I didn’t wait to see what the noise was. I was just thankful for it. Jumping up, I grabbed my book bag and headed for the door.
“Tallulah, don’t go,” he called out.
I didn’t look back. But I did pause. “I’m not coming back in here. You can tell the office whatever you want, but I am no longer your teach
er’s aide.”
He sighed loudly. “I thought you were more mature than the other girls. But this is childish.” His soft creepy voice had turned annoyed.
“Maybe because I’m seventeen,” I replied, then opened the door. Freedom and safety were just in my reach. Stepping out of the room, I was so focused on getting free I didn’t see them, but I heard her.
“There, Mr. Haswell,” Pam said loudly.
I spun around to see Principal Haswell walking toward me with Pam right beside him, looking horrified. “I saw them. She was touching him. They were kissing.”
Hearing her say the words, the way the accusation sounded, as if I was a part of what had just happened, sent my fear to a whole new level. What she was saying wasn’t what happened.
“Why are you in Mr. Dace’s room so early, Tallulah?” The authority in his tone did little to calm me. I was now close to terrified.
“I’m his teacher’s aide. He asked me to come in early today.” My voice cracked. My mouth felt too dry. I tried to swallow and couldn’t.
“Is he in there?” Principal Haswell asked.
I nodded. “Yes, sir.”
He walked past me and went directly to the door. With one twist of the knob he opened it and sent it swinging wide. I didn’t go look. I was frozen in my spot. Pam stepped in front of me, and the smug look now on her face didn’t surprise me.
“You deserve this, you little whore,” she whispered.
I didn’t know what to say. There was an explanation for what she saw, but I didn’t owe it to her. I had to tell it to Mr. Haswell, though. I just didn’t know if he would believe me. It was my word against both Mr. Dace’s and Pam’s.
“Why did you have a student in here with you alone at seven twenty in the morning?” Principal Haswell asked loudly.
“She’s my aid. She was logging grades into the system.”
Principal Haswell turned to look at me. “Is that what you were doing?” he asked me.
This was it. I had to make a choice. The truth or a lie.
I Was Driving as If I Were on the Defensive Line
CHAPTER 40
NASH
Coming back today didn’t mean I had to arrive on time. I was back even if it was thirty minutes after the late bell had rung. It wasn’t that I hadn’t gotten up early enough. It was that I had walked out to my Escalade about five times and turned around and come back inside. Every time I had gone out there and started to climb in the driver’s seat, I’d fucking panicked.
I hadn’t driven since the morning of the accident. Even when I was riding in the car with my parents, I had been gripping the door handle so tightly my knuckles turned white. I didn’t like cars. The sounds, smells, and Haegan’s lifeless face there beside me all came rushing back.
When I had finally gotten in the driver’s seat this morning and cranked it up, my chest was so tight with anxiety I thought I was going to stop breathing. I’d fought through it, though. Forced my head to stop focusing on the wreck. After several deep breaths I had calmed down enough to drive. I drove slow. So damn slow. I’d never driven like this before in my life. Not even when I had been learning to drive.
But I was on guard. Every car around me, I mentally prepared myself for if they lost control or made a wrong move. I was driving as if I were on the defensive line. Ready to defend myself. Getting to school had taken much longer than necessary. But I had done it. I had driven. Alone. And I was alive.
It was one of those things you never really thought about. You took it for granted. Driving a car was what you looked forward to from the time you were a little kid. When you got to finally drive, you thought your parents’ concern was stupid. You knew what you were doing You’d be fine. They needed to get over it. Nothing was going to happen to you. Until . . . it did. Then everything changed. For me, I’d never get in a car and causally drive, touch my phone, or take my eyes off the road. For Haegan, he’d never get that chance. It was over.
Sometimes lessons are learned the hard way. Other times it isn’t a lesson. It’s a consequence. I had been spared. It had been a lesson for me. It seemed so fucking unfair that Haegan hadn’t gotten that lesson. That his had been the end.
I walked into the school, and the hallway was quiet. That was expected with everyone in their first-period class. I didn’t want to face the office, but I couldn’t get into class without a tardy slip. The door, always propped open with a heavy cast-iron lion, had the breeze blowing through from the large box fan covered in dust. I walked inside, enjoying the cool breeze as a relief from the early morning heat outside. Mrs. Murphy was whispering with a concerned frown in the corner of the office with Mrs. Donna, the other secretary. They didn’t notice me. I waited at the counter for someone to look my way, but whatever they were talking about seemed to have them both very upset.
I wasn’t in a hurry to get to class anyway. I would get questions, more sympathy, and people would talk. I’d ignore it, but they would still be talking. It would be annoying. Just something I’d have to get over. At least I was alive to get over it. That was the one thought that kept coming back to me when I got annoyed or down the past week. Sure this was a shit situation. But I was alive. It could have been me.
“I just can’t believe Dace. He’s married. Has a baby girl.” Mrs. Murphy’s whisper was a little too loud this time. I strained to hear more. I didn’t like Dace, but I didn’t want something to be wrong with his family. Although he sure didn’t act married. The man didn’t even wear a ring.
“I’m glad they’re not making her go in the same room as him. She’s a child,” Mrs. Murphy continued. “It’s a shame. I am just horrified.”
Mrs. Donna looked over then and saw me. She quickly hushed Mrs. Murphy by pointing in my direction. Mrs. Murphy’s frown was still in place. “Oh, Nash, we are so glad you’re back. I’ve been praying for you. Are you doing okay with it all?”
I could say a lot of things at that moment. About her prayers and how I was doing. But instead I did what my momma had raised me to do. Be polite. She didn’t want to know how I was really doing. She wanted to feel better about it all. She wanted her prayers to be working. So tonight, when she went to bed, she’d feel better about the tragedy and feel as if she did something to help.
“Thank you, ma’am,” I replied. “I’m doing better.”
She patted my hand. “Good. That was a terrible thing. A terrible, terrible thing. It’s never easy to lose a young life.”
I nodded my head and kept my mouth shut. I would much rather hear what Coach Dace had done. Anything to get the attention off of me.
She signed a tardy slip and handed it to me. But when I tried to take it, she didn’t let go. “You were dating Tallulah, weren’t you? I know I saw y’all together.”
In all my four years of high school Mrs. Murphy had never asked about my dating life. This was odd. “Uh, yes, ma’am,” I replied. She’d also referred to me dating Tallulah in the past tense. Did that mean Tallulah was openly dating someone else? Was I going to be forced to watch her in the halls with another guy? Ryker had mentioned Brett, but damn that was fast.
She gave me an apologetic frown. “Well, she’s had a hard morning. Might need a kind word when she returns to school.”
“She’s not here?” I asked, needing more information than that.
Mrs. Murphy’s frown tightened. Then she chewed on her bottom lip. “She’s here, but she won’t be coming back to class. Might want to go check on her after school.”
I wasn’t happy with Tallulah. She’d fucking messed with my head. I thought I hated her. But I realized I didn’t because at the moment all I could be was concerned. Worried. I needed more information. “What’s wrong? Where is she?”
“You need to go on to class, Nash,” Mrs. Donna said, stepping forward and touching Mrs. Murphy’s arm. “Best it’s not talked about.”
Fuck that. She wasn’t going to worry me, then tell me nothing. “Is she okay? Did she get hurt?”
Mrs. Murphy look
ed like she wanted to say more, but she looked at Mrs. Donna, who was shaking her head no with a stern expression. Dammit.
“Just go on to class,” Mrs. Donna repeated.
“Why can’t you tell me where she is?” I pushed.
Mrs. Murphy opened her mouth to say something more when her eyes went to the door behind me.
“I’m Charlotte Dace. Where is my husband?” the woman demanded.
Mrs. Murphy walked around the counter. “Right this way,” she told her.
Charlotte Dace was tall, thin, blond, had larger lips than was normal, and walked like someone who was in one of those beauty pageants. She followed behind Mrs. Murphy. I watched them go until the door to the principal’s office opened.
Coach D stepped forward, and his eyes locked on his wife’s. They were scared. He was scared. “You sorry piece of shit!” she screamed.
“Oh my,” Mrs. Donna whispered.
The door closed behind them as Charlotte Dace slammed it shut.
Mrs. Murphy turned to look at me, and her eyes were round with anxiety.
I didn’t need an explanation anymore. I understood what was going on.
Tallulah and Coach Dickhead had been caught.
Men like Him, They Don’t Get Better
CHAPTER 41
TALLULAH
I heard her scream. I was numb now, though. I’d faced it. Taken the hard road instead of the easy. It would have been much less complicated to lie. Ignore it. But I couldn’t lie. Not anymore. I was scared of him. It was time I dealt with all the repercussions and told the truth, before he took it too far.