“It’s all part of his charm,” I agreed.
“I feel like I recognize you from somewhere,” she said suddenly. “But I can’t place you. Were you in Mr. Burns’ honors class?”
I shook my head and was going to tell her why she knew my face—then they called my name. Her eyes widened as I stood up and her mouth fell open. I grinned and winked, then sashayed my way to the stage. My reputation might not be the best, but I feel like my legend might live on.
I wasn’t expecting much. My parents threw their entire souls into cheering for me, which I knew they would do; but my class cheered for me too, which I wasn’t expecting at all. Tears sprang into my eyes as I accepted my diploma, and my heart was full as I finished walking. The graduates on the other side grinned and clapped for me as I walked in their direction and right into Blayze’s arms. I held him tight, then stood on my tiptoes. “What’s going on?” I whispered in his ear.
“If there’s one thing everybody likes around here, it’s a good underdog story,” he whispered back. “Everybody knows the truth now, and you came out smelling like roses.”
I smiled through a sob and clung to him, letting the goodwill wash over me from all sides. Damn it. I couldn’t believe it’s over. I laughed softly and wiped my eyes, then beamed up at him.
“Come to lunch with us after,” I said. “Your mom, too. Where is she? I was looking for her, but I don’t know what she looks like.”
He smiled, but there was a sadness in his eyes. “She couldn’t make it today,” he said gently. “But I would love to come to lunch with you.”
I frowned, troubled. “I thought she was better?”
He nodded. “She is. She’s better. She gets better and better all the time—but she’s not okay. Not yet. She might not ever be completely okay, but you know what?”
“What?” I asked, my heart breaking.
He smiled. “I don’t need her to be what she’s not. I just need her to keep trying—and she is. Because to me, this is a celebration. To her, this is a crowd full of strangers way older than she is, dozens of men she doesn’t know, a whole lot of social rules and expectations—and people she believes are better parents than she is. It’s too much for her, and that’s okay. I don’t need her to sacrifice any more than she already has for me.”
I didn’t like it. I was still angry at her for being such a crappy mom to him in the first place, and to miss his graduation—that he couldn’t have been expected to reach in the first place, but he did—seemed like the ultimate rejection to me. More than that, though, I didn’t like that his analysis of her behavior made me feel harsh and judgmental in comparison. I held his hand and turned to the stage to watch the rest of our class walk. I had a lot to think about.
I was still chewing on it when we got to the restaurant, but then the festive air pushed all of my pensive thoughts away. We weren’t the only family there celebrating, and Blayze waved to at least half a dozen people while the waitress was showing us to our table. I wondered briefly if he would ever want to leave this town, and was surprised at the twinge of sadness that came with the question. He was so good and pure - part of me was certain that this town would eventually chew him up and spit him out, no matter how well he knew it.
We settled and ordered, then my dad looked from me to Blayze and back again, beaming with pride.
“Well, you both did it! Under some rough circumstances, too. I’m proud of you. Both of you. Which is why—”
“Honey,” Mom cut in. “Don’t you think that should wait until after dinner?”
“Hm? No, I don’t think so. There are too many possible answers, my love. We should allow space to talk them all through, I think.”
She sighed and shifted in her seat restlessly, then lowered her voice. It was a small table, there was no amount of lowering which would allow her the privacy she wanted. “But what if the answer is one you don’t like, Tristan? Wouldn’t that make dinner awkward?”
He frowned thoughtfully, then slid a sideways look at Blayze. Blayze cleared his throat, and I squeezed his hand under the table. I was trying to be reassuring, but I had no idea what I was reassuring him about, so it didn’t really help much.
“I know how to solve this,” Tristan said. “Blayze, are you circumcised?”
I gasped. Mom gasped, and turned bright red. Both of us stared goggle-eyed at Dad, who wore a stern glare. Blayze laughed.
“Yes,” he said, grinning. “Nothing’s going to be more awkward than that, Mrs. Drake. Now he can ask me what he really wanted to ask.”
“Oh my God,” I groaned, dropping my head in my hand, covering my eyes. “Blayze, that’s not why—”
“Yes it is,” Dad interrupted.
I snapped my head up to find Dad grinning wickedly. Mom’s cheeks and eyes blazed as she glared at him, and he blew her a kiss.
“Tristan Drake,” she chastised. She shook her head at him, then laughed. “I suppose you can do what you like. God, you’re so silly sometimes.”
He grinned at her, but we still didn’t find out what he was going to ask because that was when the appetizers showed up. We passed things around and there was general chatter about the food itself, then everybody had to taste things, and by the time that was done the actual meals arrived.
“Oh for God’s sake,” I exploded after the waitresses left. “Dad?”
“Yes?” He blinked at me for a moment, then remembered. “Oh! Right. Blayze, what are your plans now?”
Blayze tapped his fork against his steak for a minute, frowning thoughtfully. A subtle sort of anxiety settled in the back of my neck. Some part of me felt that his answer would be the dealmaker or dealbreaker to our relationship, as much as I hated to admit it. I wasn’t even sure what an unacceptable answer would be, but I was terrified that he would give one.
“I’m going to figure out how to go to school,” he said finally. My heart leapt.
“For what?” Dad asked.
My heart sank again. Why ruin a good dream with specifics, dad?
“I have my eye on law school,” Blayze said quietly. “Minor in social work, maybe. There’s a whole system functioning with a blind spot bigger than a city block.”
Dad nodded slowly. “I was hoping you would say that. Do you know why?”
Blayze grinned. “Because you live for our debates,” he joked.
Dad laughed. “Well there is that. But it’s because you knew exactly why I asked you the question I asked initially. You understand why people—even people who move in circles outside of your immediate experience—do what they do. I would be honored to go up against you in court, although—” He trailed off with a grimace, then picked the thought back up. “—public defenders don’t make good money, and they are generally who I end up facing in court.”
Blayze chuckled. “No disrespect, but your idea of good money and mine are way different. Public defenders take home, what, five grand a month?”
Dad blinked and it was my turn to chuckle. Of course Blayze had already done the research.
“Yeah, more or less, depending on where you are. You can make eight to ten in some places. But for a lawyer—”
Blayze held up a hand. “Don’t contextualize it. Please. Because what I’m looking at right now is pulling in fourteen hundred a month working retail or some other soul-crushing shit—or making five thousand doing something that matters.”
Dad nodded thoughtfully for a moment. “Student loans will cut deep on a public defender’s salary.”
Blayze shrugged. “I know how to live on a budget.”
“Hm, yes. I suppose you do. But I don’t think you should have to, not to that degree anyway. I would like to offer you an alternative—but that is going to be Arlena’s choice.”
I straightened up, startled. “My choice? What is?”
Dad smiled gently at me. “We’ll get to that. Arlena, what are your plans now?”
My entire brain screeched to a halt. I stared like a deer caught in headlights until Mom touched my han
d. “You don’t have to decide right now, love. Your decision year was interrupted with all that nasty business.”
Dad slid her an impatient look, but he was nothing but warmth when he turned back to me. He didn’t say anything, waiting for me to answer. The pregnant pause was one of his favorite interrogation methods because it always worked eventually.
“I do want to go to school,” I said slowly. “But I don’t have a direction yet. I have—an idea.”
“What is your idea, Arlena?” Dad asked gently.
I wriggled in my seat. It was taking a lot to formulate the words because the idea was so fresh and new, so very fragile. But I’m Arlena freaking Drake, I told myself. I have a wall at my back and a brain in my head and I’m in control here.
“I want to help people see their own potential,” I said. “I want to take a surly hacker and lead them to a programming career, or show a drama queen how to channel that drive into journalism or story telling or something. All I’ve seen all year is people full of potential crashing and burning because they don’t know where to put it.”
I took a deep breath and glanced around. Mom looked proud. Dad looked thoughtful. Blayze—oh, Blayze. His eyes were shining with a love so strong it loosened my tongue, concreting my ideas as they rolled over my tongue.
“I never noticed it at home, but that’s because we all grew up surrounded by opportunities, herded into talent channels and skills that kids around here never get close to. Everybody has a solid idea of their skills, if not their passions, before they hit high school. Well, not everybody. I didn’t. But nobody needed me out there. Everybody already knew they were special. Around here—the world is so much smaller. So much crueler. It’s harder to see what you’re worth when the world has already written you off.”
I was thinking of Sam as I spoke. Sam and those girls at Eddie’s parties, Damon and the others that Eddie put away—they’d been so desperate, but they didn’t have to be.
“I want to show people that they’re worth something,” I said quietly. “But I don’t know what degree would help me do that—not for the people who really, really need it.”
Mom smiled and squeezed my hand. I’ve never seen her look more proud. “Psychology. That will open all the doors for you, my love. High school counselor, life coach, motivational speaker, writer, whatever you like. You can try things on until you find what you love. Do one thing, do everything. Never mistake a job title for a passion. You know your passion, now you only have to build a road to it.”
I wiped my wet eyes and smiled at her. A deep breath seemed to circle the table, and there was a beat of thoughtful silence.
“Well,” Dad said at the end of a sigh. “Arlena, I have a confession. You remember I told you I set up a trust fund for your school or your home or your wedding?” He emphasized the word “or” more every time he said it.
I frowned at him, confused. “Yes.”
He nodded. “I did, in fact, set up trust funds. Multiple. I assumed that if you wanted to go to college, you would also eventually want to live in a home or get married.”
I cocked my head. “There’s an ‘or’ in there.”
He nodded. “Yes. Now we come to your decision. There’s enough in there to pay for your schooling and Blayze’s—or enough to pay for your schooling and a house or a wedding.” He spread his hands as if laying the options on the table for me.
I didn’t even have to think about it. “Send Blayze to school,” I said. I looked at Blayze, wondering if I’d overstepped. “If that’s what you want,” I added.
He was speechless. Mom grinned and cut into her dinner with a satisfied little wiggle. Dad gazed at me for a moment, then turned to Blayze.
“Blayze, I would like to offer you a full scholarship to the school of your choice. This offer includes four years of study plus law school and the bar exam. Do you accept?”
Blayze looked as though he was choking on his tongue. I moved closer to him and held his face in my hands, turning him so I could look into his eyes. “This is your moment,” I said. “This is your opportunity. The future is calling, and it’s for you. What are you going to do, Blayze?”
He cleared his throat, grinned, and kissed me. “It could take six years,” he said in a voice meant just for me. “That’s a long time. We might not be able to go to the same school. If you follow me, you might end up living in a strange place where you don’t know anybody.”
Seriously? I gave him an amused, exasperated look. “I’m pretty sure I can handle that,” I said with a little laugh. “I survived this year, didn’t I?”
His grin broadened, his eyes sparkled, and he kissed me hard. He didn’t stop until my mom cleared her throat meaningfully, then he pulled back and flashed an apologetic smile at her.
“I accept,” he said.
They shook on it.
38
“Come on, Sam! How are you going to ride it from way over there?” I held the horse’s lead and stroked its pretty grey nose. Blayze was already up on his horse, though the animal had decided to spin in circles and snort, tossing its head like it was going to throw him off. It wouldn’t—Chestnut was a sweetheart, but he liked to tease—but Blayze didn’t know that, and his face was white as paper.
I laughed. “Relax,” I told him. “He listens to your body language. You’re telling him you’re terrified.”
“I am!” Blayze’s voice squeaked on the second syllable, making me laugh harder.
“Aw, come on,” Damon said, taking Sam’s arm. “If he can do it, we can do it.”
“That’s what they said about peeing standing up, and that didn’t work out so well,” Sam grumbled. She let Damon lead her into the corral, though. I was pretty sure she’d let him lead her anywhere. I talked them through mounting their horses. For all her anxiety, Sam swung into the saddle like she’d been doing it her whole life. Damon had a little bit more trouble, but he scrambled up eventually.
I mounted my own horse and grinned at the three of them. The change was palpable. They could feel the freedom breathing beneath them and it filled them up with that wild horse magic. Horse therapy is a thing, I realized—I could easily marry my passion to my love and build a career around it. I carefully tucked that thought away for later.
“Okay, this part’s easy,” I said. “Just squeeze your knees gently and leave some slack in the reins. The horses will do the rest.”
There were a few false starts and a lot of laughter, but eventually we were all moving together. Our positions shuffled around a few times, but soon enough Sam was riding next to me and the two brothers followed behind.
“This is amazing,” Sam said happily. “I can’t believe I’ve never done this before. Screw cars, man. We should all go back to riding horses.”
“You’re absolutely glowing,” I said with a grin. “It’s not just the horse, is it?”
Her eyes twinkled and she blushed. “I think Damon’s going to ask me to be with him for real,” she said. “We were starting something—before—but neither of us could really admit it because, you know, I’d been caught up with his brother for so long, it just kinda felt wrong. But now that Blayze is so happy with you, and everybody’s lives are moving forward—I think he wants to take that step.”
I glanced over my shoulder to find Blayze and Damon deep in quiet conversation. “I think you’re right,” I said. “Looks like a groundwork conversation if I ever saw one.”
She whipped her head around so fast she slipped half off the saddle, startled the horse, and nearly ended up in the same position I had on my first ride. I helped her straighten up and grinned. “You are completely in love with him, aren’t you?”
She beamed, then shrugged in a pathetic attempt to be dismissive. “I guess,” she said. “It’s—he was there for all of the bullshit, you know? He was there for me through everything, as a friend, but he was there for Blayze too. So he knows me. He knows me like nobody else, because he wasn’t on the receiving end of my crap. And I know him the same way. It
’s—comfortable.”
“Sounds perfect,” I said, and I meant it. Sam didn’t need fireworks or romance. She needed to know that she was enough, exactly the way she was, however she wanted to be. Her hair was a bright teal today and she wore tiger-striped purple jeans and an oversized band t-shirt she wouldn’t have been caught dead in last month. She changed like the weather, and she needed someone who could ride through her storms and bask in her sunlight and never judge her either way.
We made it to the picnic grounds and I showed them how to tie up their horses. Once the picnic was unpacked and we were all sitting around in the grass, Damon sought confirmation from Blayze with his eyes. Blayze nodded deliberately, then turned and kissed me. Damon turned to Sam, who wriggled impatiently.
“Sam, I want to ask you something,” Damon said in his slow, deliberate way. “But first I want to tell you that I love you, and that there’s no wrong answer. You’re my best friend, next to Blayze. And going to jail really cleared some shit up for me. I’m going to turn my life around. I’d like to do it with you. Do you want to marry me?”
My jaw dropped. Sam’s did too. Blayze just grinned. Sam snapped her mouth shut and wiggled across the picnic blanket on her knees, glaring fiercely. Damon sat, just watching her move, his eyes soft. She stopped just in front of him and kissed him hard, then pulled away and smacked his shoulder.
“You can’t just ask me to marry you! You, you have to ask me to be your girlfriend then we see if that’s okay, then you ask me to marry you, then we see if fiancé is okay, then we get married and we see if that’s okay, then—”
“Why?” he asked, cutting her off. “It’s not like we have to get to know each other. I know what I want, and I want to build a life with you away from all the crap. Or in the crap, I don’t care. I just want to build with you.” He moved to his knees and put his arms around her, his voice soft and gentle. “But you’re in charge, Sam. So—will you be my girlfriend?”
She huffed, but there were happy tears in her eyes. “Yes.”
He kissed her gently, stroking her hair, then pulled back. “Is that okay?”
Manic: A Dark High School Bully Romance Page 24