Ignoring his poutiness, I hurry into the house to look for Ms. Frazier. I find her already at the kitchen table with Roux with a textbook open. Charlotte, Roux’s new friend she prattled on and on about today on the way here, grins at me.
“I can help too, right, Aunt Karen? I’m good at math like Hollis.” She beams at me. “This is so exciting!”
Roux giggles and it causes tiny cracks to form inside of me. My sister rarely smiles or laughs. The ride home and her incessant talking about a new friend was so out of character for her, Jordy shot several worried glances my way.
“I’m not here to do schoolwork,” I tell the bubbly girl. “I have other work to do.”
Ms. Frazier chuckles. “You could always join us for some math problems.”
“Pass,” I say with a smile as I walk over to the oven to peek in at what’s cooking. “What am I doing today?”
“The attic’s a mess. If you want to make sense of it, that’d be a great help. My sister Kelsey brought in a bunch of boxes when they moved up here over winter break, so everything is just thrown on top of everything else.”
I give a nod and start out of the kitchen.
“You’re still staying for dinner, right?” Ms. Frazier asks.
The thought of having dinner with Hollis makes me see red. But life isn’t about me. It’s about Roux. And Roux getting a home-cooked meal is more important than having to look at some asshole while I eat.
“Duh,” I tease. “We never pass up lasagna night.”
Charlotte squeals with excitement and Roux giggles again.
Needing space from this new situation, I drop my bag by the sofa and then rush up the stairs. I pass by Ms. Frazier’s office and groan when I realize it now has a bed. Hollis lies on top of it face down.
Messenger bag smashed beneath him.
Coat and shoes still on.
The air is thick with despair.
What the fuck does he have to be unhappy about?
A spike of pleasure shoots through me at the thought of me causing the despair. It’s only fair since he’s kind of fucked up my world.
And then I hear it.
A whine.
Pained and sad.
Familiar.
It spooks me because I recognize it as my own. I don’t understand how this kid can have everything and hurt like I do, but I feel it. I can almost taste it. From experience, that shit doesn’t come from one day of dealing with assholes like me.
That sort of pain is slashed into you over time.
Inflicted day after day.
Ongoing mental torture.
I backpedal away from his room and rush to the end of the hall where the attic door string hangs. With a quick yank, I pull down the ladder and make my way up. It’s cold up here, but I know I’ll sweat my ass off by the time I’m done. All the jobs I do for Ms. Frazier are labor-intensive. Basically, I work my ass off in trade for her to tutor Roux two times a week.
Ignoring the chill, I begin with her Christmas boxes that were recently thrown in one corner. Had she called me after Christmas, I would’ve taken it all down, but when school is out, Ms. Frazier doesn’t ask for help. It’s strictly a trade for Roux. Two years ago, Ms. Frazier offered to do it for free, but I hate fucking handouts. We made a bargain that I’d work to pay for it, and it’s been that way ever since.
My mind lingers on Roux as I organize the boxes. She struggles so much with life in general. Mom is a piece of shit who can’t keep food in the pantry. If it weren’t for me forcing her ass to get her food stamps, Roux and I would starve. Her boyfriends are always worthless assholes who keep her laid up in bed, moaning like a whore, with God knows what sort of drugs running through her veins. Frankly, our home life sucks, which is why I’ve always been grateful for these two days a week of normalcy for Roux. We can relax, feel wanted, and eat real food.
A twist of my gut reminds me I’m hungry. Since we get free lunch, one lunch is all we get, though on basketball days, I could eat a helluva lot more than the school dishes out. This afternoon, Coach Rendell ran us hard. Jordy complained like a little bitch. Cal, the energetic bastard, just laughed at us. Terrence was too busy cleaning Sharpie off the vending machines and missed practice, which means he’ll be benched Friday. All that running made me hungry as fuck.
I manage to get the Christmas decorations put away in a better spot and then work on the boxes labeled “Kelsey.” I open one and pull out a picture frame. A pretty woman who looks like Hollis smiles at the camera. Beside her is a man with a serious expression and three kids. Hollis grins like his mother and sister Charlotte. The other little girl is expressionless.
“You came here to snoop?” Hollis demands hotly as he yanks the frame from my hand.
Holy fuck, the guy is a silent creeper. Where the hell did he come from?
“Just cleaning the attic,” I snap back. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”
“Unfortunately, no.” His words are softer this time.
I sneak a peek his way. He’s no longer in his substitute teacher outfit. Wearing jeans, tennis shoes, and a black hoodie, he almost looks normal. Under the yellow bulb of the attic, his eyes seem haunted and dark circles are more prominent under them.
“If you’re going to bother me, at least help,” I grumble, hoping to send him on his way. To my surprise, he picks up the box I’d just opened and carries it over to a far wall.
“So you help my aunt? You do work and she tutors Roux?”
“Yep. Got a problem?”
He picks up another box but gets distracted by the label. When he tears it open and sucks in a sharp breath, I can’t help but look his way. I get a brief glimpse of two guys wearing basketball jerseys—Hollis being one of them—smiling into what looks like an almost kiss. He throws the frame back in the box and stomps over to the corner with it.
Okay.
Who was that guy in the picture?
Were they going to kiss?
He continues to move boxes in an almost angry way. As though I’m the one who’s pissed him off. I’m getting tired of his attitude. I was doing just fine without his help. When he bumps into me, I lose it. Swiveling around, I grab the front of his hoodie and shove him into a stack of boxes.
“What the hell is your problem, rat?” I snarl, my face inches from his.
“Fuck you.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
He flinches and gapes at me with such a wounded look, I release him. I take a step back and study his hurt features.
“Why are you so fucking pissy?” I demand, crossing my arms over my chest. “Tell me.”
His eyes roll as he shakes his head. “Seriously? Hmm, let’s see. I was looking forward to my first day of school when some guy I don’t even know is a total dick to me. Then, he tries to break my laptop. Then, he and his friend keep me from eating lunch. Now, this same dickhead is in my home, messing with my shit. Oh, and his sister is friends with mine now too. So not only is he an asshole to me at school, but I also have to deal with him after school. Everything’s fucking peachy, Roan.”
I bristle at the way he says my name. It makes the hairs on my arms stand on end. The nerves in my body electrify. My heart speeds up angrily.
“Are you going to go downstairs and cry to your aunt?” I taunt, overwhelmed with the need to put more cracks in his perfect façade.
Disappointment flashes in his blue eyes that are darker in the attic. “No, man. She has enough shit to deal with than to worry about me.”
His comment worms its way inside of my head.
I’ve developed that mentality. I take the focus off myself and put every ounce into Roux. She’s the one who needs it. What I want doesn’t matter as long as she gets what she needs.
“Hey, boys,” Ms. Frazier calls out. “Dinner will be ready in fifteen. Roan, don’t you dare come to my table smelling like a locker room.”
As soon as she’s gone, I leave him without another word and head for the ladder.
&
nbsp; Anytime I’m here, I take a shower after whatever grueling work Ms. Frazier puts me through. This is the first time I feel weird about it.
I hustle down the ladder and practically jump down the rest of the way. Like there’s a fire under my ass, I rush downstairs to grab my bag and then head back up. I’m just making it to the landing when Hollis is pushing the ladder into place in the ceiling. His hoodie lifts and it reveals, pale, toned muscles that pretty boys don’t get from just being pretty. Those are the kind of abs you work your ass off for.
His arms fall to his sides and his brows furrow. “What?”
Heat floods up my neck to my cheeks. I was not just checking out the abs of my new nemesis. That’s not fucking weird or anything.
“Sorry, rat, but there’s only room in the shower for one.” I laugh cruelly at him in an effort to chase away the awkward feeling settling in my bones.
“And your ability to be a bigger asshole with each passing second knows no bounds,” he grinds out as he storms down the hall and into Ms. Frazier’s office.
I stop him before he can close the door. “You’re just sad you won’t ever get a piece of this asshole.” I’m not one hundred percent sure he’s gay, but I have my suspicions.
He looks over his shoulder at me, affixing a smug grin I haven’t seen before on his face. In an agonizingly slow way, he makes a blatant show of skimming his gaze down my body and then back up again. He bites on his lip, not unlike how Sidney always does, and his eyes flash with heat. My dick fucking responds much to my horror.
“You wouldn’t be able to handle me anyway,” he says with such sure confidence, I’m left speechless.
The door slams shut, making me jump.
This rich prick has no idea who I am. He’s the one who wouldn’t be able to handle me. I’d dominate him in the bedroom. Make him quiver and cry. I’d make him beg for every single touch. I realize my dick is achingly hard and that I’ve been fantasizing about a roll in the sheets with fucking Hollis the rat.
What the fuck?
I’ve never even been with a guy, and if I ever entertained the idea, it sure as hell wouldn’t be with some prissy bitch like Hollis.
I’m sure of it.
It’s my dick that’s a little confused on the matter.
And unfortunately, I’ll have to tame the fucker in the shower. I just hope to hell I don’t beat off to the memory of Hollis’s parted lips. The image of them—plump, pink, and parted—briefly flashes in my head. My cock jolts in appreciation.
I am so fucking screwed.
Chapter Five
Hollis
MOM LOOKS TIRED. Guilt coils itself in the pit of my stomach. She didn’t have to work back home. Life was easier for her. Now it’s too hard. We’ve barely gotten here and it’s too damn hard.
Aunt Karen busies the girls—including Roux—with setting the table. I stay out of her way and opt for tossing the salad while I clear my head. Mom sits at the table, watching the girls with a smile on her lips that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
I turn away, unable to witness her unhappiness any longer. I’m singularly focused on the salad when my body seems to come alive. I don’t have to look up to know it’s Roan. I can feel him and I don’t understand what to make of that. When I’d dated Lucas, one of my teammates back home, it’d been fun and flirty and hot. He was my first and only, sexually, and I really liked him, but he wasn’t the committed type. Since he was bi, and mostly swung toward females, it wasn’t something he wanted out there for the public knowing. Our entire relationship was a secret until he ended it not long before I came out as gay.
Seeing the picture of Lucas earlier in the attic hit me right in the stomach. I hate that I miss him, but I do. I’d give anything to see him right now, even knowing we’d never be lovers again. Today, more than ever, I crave the normalcy of my old life.
Aunt Karen introduces Roan to Mom, and no matter how much I try to ignore him, my eyes eventually creep his way. He looks too good dressed once again in his sweats and hoodie. For the girls, he smiles and it’s real. I don’t understand why he’s such a prick to me and nice to all of them. He sits down beside Roux and playfully pokes at her. It amazes me that Roan is more comfortable at my family’s dining room table than I am. It’s as though he fits in better than I do.
Shame floods through me. Had I just stuck to the mold, Mom and Dad might still be together. The girls wouldn’t have been uprooted. Aunt Karen wouldn’t have had her house taken over by four extra people.
“Everything okay, honey?” Mom asks, her palm at my back.
I jolt at her sudden nearness. “Yeah.”
“You look a little pale. Is your stomach acting up again?” Her concern for me makes my stomach roil violently.
“I’m fine,” I lie. “How was work?”
It’s her turn to look ill. “Great.”
Yeah right.
“It’s fine,” she assures me with a smile, her arm coming around me for a motherly hug. “I don’t like my boss, but it was the first day and we were busy. I’m sure it’ll get better.”
I lean my head against hers and enjoy the moment with my mother. Life is so messed up right now, but this feels right.
“Your dad texted,” she says with a sigh, her voice low so the kids won’t hear.
“And what did he have to say?”
“Wants to see the girls.”
The girls. Not me.
“Oh,” I mutter.
“He wants to see you too, I’m certain of it,” she assures me, “but he’s horrible at expressing himself.”
I tug away from her and frown. “I don’t want to see him anyway, so it doesn’t matter.”
We finished out the semester and then moved to Aunt Karen’s over Christmas break. I’d wondered how he’d managed the past three weeks without having anyone to bitch at. Must have been a boring holiday for him.
“The divorce isn’t final,” she reminds me. “So if he wants to see them, I have to let him. He’s not fighting for custody, and I don’t want to poke the bear. I already told him he’ll have to make the effort to come out here, though. The girls can’t miss any school.”
“Just let me know when he shows up so I can make myself scarce.”
She presses her lips together but rather than defend him or argue, she simply nods. “I love you, kiddo. No matter what. I’d do anything for you.”
I hate that she’s already had to.
She left her husband, uprooted her children, and moved across the country for us—for me. The gnawing, burning pain in my gut flares up. Where I was hungry moments ago, now I can barely handle the smell of the food without feeling nauseous.
Mom, always able to sense when I’m not quite right even though I dazzle her with bright smiles, cradles my cheeks with her hands. “We’re going to get through this, honey.”
“I know, Mom.”
I feel eyes on me and dart my attention to Roan, who watches me with cool indifference. Mom notices him looking our way and gives me a silly smile.
“Friend or…” she whispers.
“Neither,” I grumble. “But our sisters get along, so there’s that.”
Her eyes twinkle knowingly. “Give it time.”
There’s not enough time in the world to ever make me grow to willingly like Roan, much less want to date him.
“I met two people today. Gio and Sidney. Both really nice.” I flash her my big, fake grin. “You’d really like both of them.”
Two friends. I made two friends.
My smile falters.
“It’s only been a day,” she says. “You’ll be the boy everyone loves in no time. How could they not?”
I hug her to me again, inhaling her familiar motherly scent. I’m taller than her and bigger, but she’ll always be my mom. Someone who I want to lean on when shit gets tough. She can’t do much about anything, but she just has an inner strength I can tap into.
“Lasagna’s ready,” Aunt Karen chirps, ending our heartfelt moment. “Le
t’s eat.”
_______________
It really bothers me that Roan is more comfortable in my aunt’s kitchen than I am. We never visited her in Hood River. She always came to us. So even though we’ve been here a few weeks, it doesn’t feel like home.
Roan, however, acts like he lives here.
Mom, Aunt Karen, and the girls have all retired to the living room to play a board game upon Charlotte’s obnoxious insistence. I offered to stay back and clean, and to my surprise, Roan hopped up to help.
“You don’t have to do this,” I tell him, as I set down a clean plate from the dishwasher a little too hard in the cabinet, making it clang.
“It’s my job,” he bites back, shooting me a nasty glare.
Whatever, asshole.
I continue to unload the dishwasher while he grabs plastic containers to put the leftovers away. He hesitates for a moment as though he’s unsure what to do. Before I can utter a word, Aunt Karen peeps her head in.
“Roan,” she tells him lightly. “Roux loved the lasagna. Can you just take the rest back with you tonight? There’s not enough for this gang to have leftovers, but there’s plenty for the two of you for tomorrow night.”
He nods and then continues on with his task as she leaves. When I’m caught staring, he drops the container onto the counter and turns around, crossing his arms over his chest. Just three feet away from me, I can nearly feel the heat from his muscular body burning into me.
Why must horrible people be so hot?
“What?” he demands, his brows furrowing and his jaw clenching.
“Nothing.”
“Say it, rat.”
I take several steps toward him until my chest bumps against his arms. “Stop calling me that.”
“Or what?” He smirks, an evil glint in his fiery bronze colored eyes. “You’ll tell?”
“You think because you’re bigger than me that I’ll take your shit?”
His eyebrow hikes up, making the barbell piercing look extra hot on him. “Yep.”
“I’m not one of the spineless cowards at school.”
“Is that a threat?” He lowers his head until our faces are inches apart. “Because I don’t take threats lightly. I deal with them.”
Bully Me: Class of 2020 Page 69