Not My Hero: Black Mountain Academy

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Not My Hero: Black Mountain Academy Page 11

by Michelle Heard


  “I don’t know. It doesn’t look like Cole and Michael get along.” Brie gestures to a girl walking by our table. “That’s Keira Sheppard. She’s nice.”

  A guy walks into the cafeteria, and Brie mumbles, “Nathaniel Black. His family practically owns the school, and he’s head of the swim team.” Then she gestures to another group of guys. “That’s the football team.”

  Brie’s eyes scan over the rest of the students, and then they stop on me. “I’m glad you’re here. It sucked watching new people walk in at the beginning of the year, and they all just fit in. It made me wonder what I was doing wrong that I could never fit in anywhere.”

  Damn, I want to hug her right now.

  Instead, I grin. “Yeah, now you’re stuck with me.”

  The most beautiful smile spreads over her face, and then she twirls some spaghetti around her fork. It reminds me of the pizza on my plate. We both take a couple of bites of our meals, then Brie points to the book I’m reading; Between a Rock and a Hard Place by Aaron Ralston. “When I first saw you, I didn’t take you for a reader.” She licks her lips, then adds, “Then again, I’ve been wrong about everything where you’re concerned.”

  “I just started it. It’s good.”

  “Have you always loved reading?”

  I shake my head. “It’s a new hobby.” I take another bite of my lunch and first swallow before I ask, “Do you have any hobbies?”

  Brie points to her sketchpad that’s lying next to her plate. “Just drawing.”

  “Right.” Wondering what else she’s drawn, I ask, “Mind if I look at the sketches?”

  Brie hesitates, her eyes turning to the book. “Ah… okay.” She picks it up and moves it closer to me.

  I shove the plate away and first wipe my hands clean on a napkin before opening the book. “A person wading through water,” I murmur. Brie nods, the corner of her mouth lifting nervously. I turn the page. “The screaming girl. I’ve seen this one.”

  “You have?” She looks surprised.

  “Yeah.” I lock eyes with her. “Is the picture you?”

  Her gaze flits away before she nods.

  Turning the page, the air is knocked from my lungs. The picture is different from the others.

  “That’s me in five years,” Brie admits.

  “Yeah?” I murmur, captivated by how she sees herself. Butterflies flutter from a girl that’s looking up.

  Brie always had hope.

  “It’s beautiful…” I turn my gaze back to Brie, “just like you.”

  She grins shyly, then confesses, “That’s how I feel now that I’m living with you.”

  Screw what everyone thinks. I wrap an arm around Brie’s shoulders and pull her into my side. Pressing a kiss to her temple, I murmur, “It makes me happy hearing that.”

  I don’t let go of her as I turn the page, but the next one is blank. “What are you going to draw next?”

  “I don’t know.” She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth as she thinks about it. “Maybe something abstract. I need to have more for a portfolio if I want to apply to art school.”

  “You still have time,” I remind her.

  She glances up at me and then says, “I can always draw you.”

  I let out a chuckle. “Go for it. I’d like to see what you come up with.”

  Brie takes another bite of her food, then pushes the plate to the side, asking, “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  She rests an elbow on the table and leans her cheek against her palm. I do the same, and it brings our faces close together, but I don’t pull back.

  “Why did you give me those quotes?”

  Sitting so near to her, I can see a dark blue ring around the lighter blue of the iris.

  Hypnotizing eyes, for sure.

  My voice is low as I answer, “Seeing Michael bully you made me so damn angry. I wanted you to fight back.”

  “You haven’t given me any since the text message,” she whispers.

  It feels as if we’re in our own little bubble. I like it.

  “I got the impression they bothered you.” She’s about to say something, but I quickly add, “I understand why, though. I was hard on you, and I’m sorry. I didn’t know how bad things were and got frustrated because –” My words cut off when I think of Brady, and there’s a familiar pang of sorrow.

  “Because?”

  “You reminded me of my brother, Brady.”

  Realization flits over her face. “I’m sorry.”

  I shake my head and let out a soft chuckle, “It turns out you’re much stronger than I gave you credit for.”

  She lets out a huff. “I’m not strong at all.”

  I wish Brie could see herself through my eyes. She’d know how special she is.

  “You are. The shit you had to survive…” I shake my head, and lifting my other hand, I wrap my fingers around the back of her neck.

  Damn, her skin is soft.

  “Not many people would be able to handle that. My brother couldn’t, and he didn’t have to deal with half the abuse you got.”

  There’s a sad smile wavering around her mouth. “What was he like?”

  The corner of my mouth lifts slightly. “Brady was sensitive and kind. He was the opposite of me.”

  “You’re kind,” she states, her tone firmer than it usually is.

  “I wasn’t always,” I admit. “Before Brady’s death, I didn’t have time for anyone. I focused all my energy on keeping him safe.”

  Brie nods, and then she whispers, “Kinda like you’re doing with me now.”

  I let out a burst of air. “Yeah, I guess I’m a one person at a time guy.”

  Brie’s eyes dart to the table before she brings them back to me. She hesitates but then says, “I’m glad I’m that person.”

  Our gazes lock, and an intense feeling fills the bubble we’re caught in. It makes anticipation tighten my chest until my heart is slamming against my ribs.

  I wish I could kiss her.

  The bell rings, making the bubble pop, and we both pull back at the same time.

  Stupid damn bell.

  We gather out books and take the trays back before walking out of the cafeteria.

  Chapter 15

  BRIE

  Mrs. Lawson made meatloaf for dinner, and I have to admit it’s way better than the cafeteria’s.

  We had cake for dessert again, and I wish I could ask Mrs. Lawson to teach me how to make one, but I don’t have the guts.

  Instead, I gather the plates and pile the cutlery on top. Carrying the dishes to the sink, a knife slips off and clatters on the floor.

  Oh, crap!

  My heart sinks to my stomach, and my hands begin to tremble with anxiety. It makes the other cutlery rattle on the plates, and when a fork falls, my mouth goes bone dry with fear.

  NoNoNoNo.

  ‘Now, look what you made me do. You retarded bitch. I swear, the next time a glass breaks in this house, I’ll feed you the damn pieces.’

  “Brie.”

  ‘I should’ve drowned you at birth. Now, I’m stuck with you. You’re pathetic.’

  “Brie.”

  When someone takes the rattling plates from my hands, I begin to cower backward. My eyes fly wildly around the kitchen while my breaths explode over my lips.

  “I’m sorry,” I whimper. “I didn’t mean to.”

  Suddenly arms wrap around me, and my body freezes with terror. It feels like something tears a gaping hole right through my chest, and I cry, “No!”

  “It’s okay, sweetheart,” Mrs. Lawson murmurs right by my ear. “It’s okay.”

  An agonizing sob escapes, and I manage to yank free from the hold she has on me. Terrified, I stumble backward. My breaths come too fast, and soon, it’s hard to get any air in.

  I can’t focus on anything until Colton moves in front of me. He holds a hand up between us. “Brie, it’s okay. You’re safe.”

  I gasp for air and can’t stop the sob from escap
ing my lips.

  Colton slowly moves closer, and it takes a moment for the realization to reach me that he won’t hurt me.

  When Colton takes hold of my shoulder, I bring my hands up and cover my face. The breaths I suck in are painful. Colton wraps his arms around me and gently presses me to his chest.

  “It’s okay. You’re safe,” he repeats.

  “I’m… sorry,” I stammer through the tears, not quite sure what I’m apologizing for. I just know I have to.

  Colton pulls back and framing my face with his hands, he presses a kiss to my forehead and uses his thumbs to wipe my tears away. “It was an accident. Okay?”

  I nod, and I try to swallow the tears, but it only makes my throat cramp up.

  Colton keeps wiping the tears away until I finally manage to stop them, then he smiles at me. “Do you feel better?”

  A lost sob drifts over my lips as I nod.

  Then Mrs. Lawson says, “I think you should take a nice, long relaxing bubble bath.”

  Instantly fear pours back through my veins, and I cower closer to Colton.

  “I’ll take her,” Colton says, and holding my hand, he pulls me out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

  When we’re in the bathroom, I watch as he turns on the faucets and squirts bubble bath into the water.

  I watch the waterline rise, and then my eyes nervously dart to him.

  When the tub is filled, and steam twirls into the air, I can only stare.

  My mother would’ve drowned me if I dared use so much water.

  “Soak for as long as you want, okay,” Colton says, his voice soft and kind.

  I glance at the water before looking at him, then mumble, “Really? For as long as I want? Your mom won’t get upset?”

  I don’t want to get in trouble.

  “She won’t. If it turns cold before you’re done, just let some out and fill it up with warm water again.”

  I press my lips together when tears threaten to overwhelm me again. My heart squeezes into a tiny lump to make space for the overwhelming appreciation I feel.

  Colton comes to stand in front of me and tilts his head until he catches my eyes. “There’s no time limit to how long you’re allowed to bathe.”

  I nod and swallow hard in an attempt to keep the tears back.

  He presses a kiss to my forehead, and I close my eyes to soak in the warm feeling.

  When Colton steps out of the bathroom, shutting the door behind him, I take a moment to just breathe through the panic, still whirling in my chest.

  Once I feel calmer, I strip out of my school uniform and step into the balmy water. I lie back, and my eyes drift closed.

  I feel guilty over how I reacted when Mrs. Lawson tried to hug me, but I couldn’t help it. I know she’s the opposite of my mother, and I’ll have to try harder to stay calm around her.

  My thoughts turn to Colton, and the corners of my mouth lift slightly. He’s shown me more kindness over the past three days than I’ve experienced in my entire life.

  It’s like he’s my own guardian angel.

  All my dreams have always been focused years from now because that’s how long I thought it would take to get away from my mother.

  But they’re coming true much sooner.

  With the smile widening on my face, I gather some bubbles and blow them into the air.

  Then new dreams begin to grow deep in my heart.

  Hopefully, the awkwardness between Mrs. Lawson and me will fade. Maybe she can teach me how to cook and bake. She can show me all the things my mother never did.

  And maybe… maybe Colton can be my first kiss.

  I grin like an idiot while a blush reddens my face. I splash water onto my heated skin.

  I quickly wash, but I’m careful when I massage shampoo into my hair. At least the scabs don’t burn anymore. When I’m done, I let the water out, and drying myself, I glance around for clean clothes, but then I remember I didn’t bring any.

  Shoot.

  I dry my hair thoroughly, then comb through it with my fingers. Wrapping a towel tightly around my body, I grip it with one hand so it won’t accidentally come loose.

  Opening the door, I peek into the hallway, and not seeing anyone, I tip-toe out. I’m almost to my room when Colton comes out of his.

  The moment his eyes land on me, we both freeze.

  “Ahh…” I dart toward my room. “Sorry, I forgot to bring clothes to the bathroom.” I dash inside and slam the door shut, then lean back against it while my heart bounces around in my chest.

  COLTON

  Grinning, I watch Brie run into her room.

  That’s the last thing I expected to see, but damn, the guy in me won’t deny it was one hell of a hot sight.

  Up until a second ago, I was worried because of the panic attack Brie had in the kitchen, and now I’m practically wiping drool from my mouth.

  Never a dull moment, that’s for sure.

  I shoot back into my room, and grabbing clean clothes, I go shower quickly. When I’m clean and dressed in my usual sweatpants and t-shirt, I notice Brie’s door is open, and she’s not in her room.

  I hear Mom chuckle from her own room and head in that direction. Standing in the doorway, I watch as Mom squirts something into Brie’s palm.

  “Just rub it all over your face and neck,” Mom says.

  I lean a shoulder against the doorjamb and ask, “Brie, you want to watch a movie once you’re done?”

  She glances over her shoulder. “Sure.”

  Even though I’m worried about Brie, I know hovering around her won’t help her heal. Reluctantly, I leave the women to do their thing. I know the time they spend together is good for both of them.

  I go to the living room and sitting down on a couch, I switch on the TV and begin to scroll through the movie selection.

  I have no idea what Brie likes to watch, but luckily I don’t have to wait long for her. She’s aiming for the other couch, but I catch her hand and pull her down next to me.

  Mom goes to get a glass of water, then says, “Enjoy the movie. I’m heading to bed. Don’t stay up too late.”

  “Night,” I call out.

  “Goodnight, Mrs. Lawson,” Brie says, and then she looks at me. “What are we watching?”

  “I have no idea,” I admit. “What kind of movies do you like?”

  I scroll through a couple, and when Brie doesn’t answer me, I glance at her. She’s drawn her bottom lip between her teeth again, then admits, “I don’t know what I like.”

  Oh, right. She wasn’t allowed to watch TV, and the way she reacted when Mom said she should take a long bath tells me that was an issue with Brie’s mom as well. It must’ve been hell growing up with that woman for a mother.

  Not wanting anything intense, I go to the fantasy and sci-fi section, then ask, “How about The Host. It’s about aliens taking over the planet.”

  “Okay.”

  I press play, and we watch the first couple of minutes. A soft scent drifts from Brie, and it makes me highly aware of her.

  I clear my throat and ask, “Do you feel better?”

  She wipes imaginary fluff off her pants, then mutters, “Yeah, sorry. I don’t know why that happened earlier.”

  Lifting an arm, I rest it over her shoulders. “Was it a flashback?”

  She nods, and I pull her into my side.

  “It happened to me the other day at school,” I admit, hoping it will make her feel better.

  “It did?” she asks, glancing up at me.

  “Yeah. In history.”

  A light frown forms on her forehead. “Was that when Mr. Donati asked if you’re okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  She hesitates, then asks, “What was the flashback about?”

  I’ve never talked to anyone about the abuse we suffered at my father’s hands, and it feels awkward. “The first time my father beat me.”

  A sad expression tightens Brie’s features. “I’m sorry it happened to you.”

  I s
hrug, not knowing what to say to that. Wondering why she doesn’t ask me why I didn’t stop him from beating me, I ask, “Aren’t you going to ask why I didn’t stop him?”

  She shakes her head. “I know the reason.” My brow furrows, and it has her explaining, “It’s easier said than done. The fear they instill in us overrides everything.”

  I think about what Brie just said, then reply, “That wasn’t it in my case. I didn’t fight back, because being indifferent used to piss him off even more. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was getting to me. It was a catch twenty-two situation. The more indifferent I became, the more violent he got.”

  Movement from her hands catches my eye, and remembering the bandage she wore the other day, and now seeing the almost healed cuts, I ask, “What happened to your hand?” I reach for her palm and softly caress my pointer finger over the marks.

  “My mom broke a glass, and I was picking up the pieces.” Brie pauses for a moment, then continues, “She squeezed my hand closed over the shards because she wanted a reaction from me.”

  Brie’s eyes snap up to mine as if she just realized something. “I guess I did the same thing with my mom. I didn’t give her the satisfaction of getting a reaction, and it used to infuriate her. She always called me out for being a zombie and pathetic.”

  Brie sucks in a deep breath, then admits, “That’s what my flashback was about.”

  A guilty pang fills my chest. Before I got to know Brie, I used to call her out for just taking the bullying. All the while, she was just indifferent in her own way.

  Not watching the movie anymore, I turn the volume down a bit, then ask, “Do you want to lie down?”

  Brie shifts nervously. “Won’t your mom mind?”

  I let out a chuckle. “Only if we get naked.” Once the words are out, I instantly regret them. “Shit, sorry, that was inappropriate.”

  Brie just shrugs, then mutters, “We can lie down. I don’t mind.”

  We shift our bodies on the couch, and Brie rests her head on my chest.

  After a moment, she mumbles, “Today was nice.”

  “Yeah?” Seeing as we’re not watching TV, I switch it off, and only the light from the kitchen shines into the living room.

  “Especially lunch,” Brie adds. “It’s really nice having a friend.”

 

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