by Jordan Lynde
Sighing, I climbed into the backseat with Casey. Mr. Heywood looked at me through the rearview mirror, a grumpy expression on his face. I tilted my head questioningly.
“Chris is unhappy because I’m taking him to the doctors,” Jeremy informed me, catching me staring.
“I don’t need to go,” Mr. Heywood protested. “It’s just a cold.”
“You sound awful,” Casey interjected, leaning over so she could look at him. “So you really have been sick these past few days? I guess that means you’re the one that got Holly sick.”
“Casey,” I hissed, sending her a warning glare.
Mr. Heywood turned around, giving Casey a curious look. “Holly was sick?”
“No, I was—”
“For two days,” Casey said, cutting my protest off, “she hasn’t been in school.”
Mr. Heywood frowned, turning his attention back to me. “Holly, why didn’t you tell me I got you sick?”
“Ooh, what did you two do when I left?” Jeremy said teasingly, making me blush.
“We didn’t do anything!”
“Secret make-out session?” Casey guessed, a small grin spreading onto her face.
“Casey!”
Jeremy laughed, nodding his head. “I bet that’s exactly it.”
“No we didn’t! Mr. Heywood, aren’t you going to say something?” I asked, looking to him for help.
“Chris is giving me the silent treatment,” Jeremy told me when Mr. Heywood didn’t respond. “He’s so immature.”
Mr. Heywood suddenly jammed his elbow into Jeremy’s side, making Jeremy swerve to the left. A gasp of surprise left my mouth and I swatted his arm away from Jeremy.
“You going to cause an accident!” I accused. Casey started laughing and I turned to frown at her. “What?”
“You guys,” she told me, shaking her head. “A comedic trio.”
“We could probably make a lot of money,” Jeremy agreed. “I’m Jeremy, by the way.”
“I’m Casey,” Casey responded, giving Jeremy a grin. “We’ve talked before.”
Mr. Heywood suddenly began to cough violently. Jeremy looked over at him with a worried expression, which mimicked my own. Casey even gave him a concerned look. When the fit passed, Mr. Heywood acted like nothing had happened.
“Um, are you okay?” I asked.
“I’m fine,” Mr. Heywood snapped. “I don’t need to go to the doctor’s!”
“Oh yes you do,” Jeremy responded, wagging his finger. “That violent attack proves it.”
“I’m fine!”
“Mr. Heywood,” I interjected, “I think you should see one too. “What if it’s something more serious than the flu?”
“Yeah, like pneumonia,” Casey added.
I bit my lip, looking at the ground. Why was I so immature? If I hadn’t overreacted then Mr. Heywood wouldn’t be sick . . .
“Holly.”
“You can’t possibly know I was feeling guilty again!” I cried in exasperation. “Mr. Heywood, are you mind reader, or something? Do you have this unnatural ability to know what people are feeling? It’s crazy! Half the time I’m not even showing the slightest signs of lying or feeling guilty, and yet you . . .” I trailed off when I noticed Casey was staring at me with wide eyes.
I silently cursed myself. Casey was with us! I couldn’t act like I normally did otherwise she would get suspicious. But then again, she knew I loved Mr. Heywood. It’s just that she didn’t know about how close our relationship actually was. And she couldn’t find out either. As much as I loved her, and although she was my best friend, this wasn’t something I could tell anyone . . . especially if it turned into something more.
Mr. Heywood chuckled, breaking the awkward silence that had settled in. “I was actually just going to ask if I could have Lance’s number before I forgot.”
“Huh? Why?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
Wait. Lance didn’t even have his phone; it was with Shawn. Did Mr. Heywood want the number so he could talk to Shawn? To threaten Shawn? If I gave Mr. Heywood Lance’s number he might do something stupid.
“I don’t have it.”
“Don’t lie.”
“You can’t have it,” I told him.
Mr. Heywood raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”
“You just can’t!”
“Holly, I need it.”
“No,” I responded, biting my lip.
Mr. Heywood sighed. “Holly, I’m not going to do anything that will put myself in danger, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
My eyes shot open and I gaped at Mr. Heywood. He returned my gaze, looking slightly bewildered. After a minute his eyes darted to Casey, and then widened in realization. I also stole a glance at Casey, who was narrowing her eyes at me suspiciously. Mr. Heywood cleared his throat, gaining Casey’s attention.
“It’s not like I’m going to harass him with text messages to do his homework,” Mr. Heywood coughed into his arm.
“I agree with Holly. You don’t need it, Chris,” Jeremy added, glancing at him quickly.
I sent Jeremy a grateful look. If there was someone that could really go against Mr. Heywood, it was Jeremy. Mr. Heywood scowled at Jeremy, before turning his scowl to me. Immediately I looked away from him before he could guilt me into giving him Lance’s number. I felt bad, but I felt more afraid that he’d do something stupid.
“Mr. Heywood, Lance actually lost his phone when he got mugged,” Casey pitched in trying to be helpful.
“Okay,” he said, giving in at least for the time being.
The rest of the ride was silent. Casey stared out the window, Jeremy was focused on the road, Mr. Heywood was sulking, and I was fiddling with my fingers, thinking about what I was going to do when I got to the hospital. Lance was my first priority, but my second was a little more daunting.
When Jeremy pulled up to the front door, Casey and I unbuckled and stepped out of the car together.
“Thank you for the ride, Jeremy,” Casey called, sticking her head in the door. “Bye, Mr. Heywood! I hope you feel better!”
“Any time,” Jeremy responded.
“Thanks,” Mr. Heywood said grumpily.
I chuckled, rolling my eyes. “See you later, Jeremy, Mr. Heywood.”
“Bye, Holly,” Jeremy said, grinning at me. “Have fun.”
As we turned to go inside, Jeremy honked the car horn. I turned around and saw Mr. Heywood gesturing me over to him. With a quick glance at Casey, I started back to the car, bending down slightly to see Mr. Heywood better.
“What?”
“If I’m still sick and don’t get to see you tomorrow,” he started slowly, a smirk now slipping onto his face, “happy birthday.”
He immediately rolled up the window as I stood still, staring at him speechlessly. Tomorrow was my birthday already? A blush made its way to my face, and I glared as I saw Mr. Heywood start to laugh inside the car. I twisted on my heel and marched back to Casey. She raised an eyebrow.
“What’d he say?”
I ignored her. “Is tomorrow my birthday?”
Casey raised an eyebrow. “You don’t even know when your own birthday is?”
“No, I do,” I assured her, “but I just didn’t realize it was so soon.”
“Probably because you’ve been sick,” she told me, heading towards the entrance again. “It’s okay though because we aren’t celebrating until Friday with Lance. What are you doing tomorrow for it?”
“I honestly don’t know. My mom hasn’t said she wants to do anything with me yet,” I responded, welcoming the warmth of the hospital lobby.
“Sounds boring.”
“Last year I watched re-runs of Teen Mom . . . I don’t think I could make it as boring this year even if I wanted to try,” I told her with a laugh. “My mom’s going to be home, anyway. That’s a little entertainment.”
We made our way up to Lance’s room, but before we entered, an elderly nurse stopped us. “Today’s visiting hours will end at four,�
�� she said.
“What? Why?” Casey asked, looking surprised.
“Hospital inspection,” she responded. “It’s an annual thing.”
Casey looked at me and shrugged. “Well, at least we have an hour . . .”
I bit my lip. “Casey . . . visit Lance for me.”
She raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“Tell him I said hi and that I hope he feels better,” I told her, fiddling with my fingers again. “Since there’s only an hour, I have to go visit someone else first.”
“Who?”
“My mom’s friend.” I hoped she’d believe that.
“Oh, okay,” Casey responded, smiling at me. “Try to make it back! I’m sure he wants to see you.”
“I’ll try,” I said before going back down the hallway we’d just come down.
I was going to visit Holly. After a few minutes of searching I found her room. As I approached the door, I became more nervous. It took me a full three minutes to even bring my hand up to knock and as soon as my fist made contact with the door, I yanked it back, my heartbeat spiking.
“Come in,” I heard a muffled voice say.
Taking a deep breath, I put my hand on the doorknob and pushed it open. Holly’s eyes widened slightly when she saw me. I had to admit even I was still surprised when I looked at her. We really did look a lot alike. I entered the room and shut the door behind me, rubbing my sweaty palms off on my face. Why was I so nervous around this woman?
“It’s Holly, right?” Holly joked. She smiled at me.
After a second I smiled back. “Yeah.”
Holly laughed. “Wow. It’s like I’m looking at a younger replica of myself. This is crazy.”
“I feel the same way,” I agreed. “Except you’re older.”
She smiled. “Are you saying I look old?”
“No! Not at all! I meant . . . you know.”
“I do know.”
Holly gestured for me to take a seat in the chair near her bedside. Even though I felt like I should dislike her, I couldn’t help liking her.
“So what are you here for?” Holly asked. “Chris isn’t here . . .”
I shook my head quickly, feeling my face heat up. “No, I’m not here looking for him.”
Holly chuckled. “Aw, you’re blushing.”
“I’m not,” I denied, keeping my head down.
“You don’t have to hide anything from me. I know you two have an intimate relationship.”
“What?”
“The other night, you guys had a lovers’ spat, right?” Holly asked, raising an eyebrow. “After Chris chased after you, he came back pretty out of it. He told me about you.”
“What did he say?”
“Nothing bad,” she assured me. “I’m not going to tell you exactly what he said though, in case he doesn’t want me to.”
I frowned slightly. Now I was really curious. I sighed. “Okay . . . But Mr. Heywood and I don’t have an intimate relation—”
“You still call him Mr. Heywood?” Holly cut me off, her eyes widening. “That’s so cute! Oh boy, I would love to see his reaction if you called him by his first name. Or you do it when it’s just you two by yourselves? I could understand that.”
I stared at Holly incredulously. This girl really liked to talk. “It’s kind of a habit, so I call him Mr. Heywood all the time . . . even though I know I should stop.”
Holly laughed. “No, don’t! Keep calling him that. I bet he secretly enjoys it. You could use calling him Mr. Heywood to your advantage. I know how he is. I bet you could convince him to do anything. He talks so highly about you.”
I couldn’t help but smile at that. “I didn’t realize you guys talked about me so much.”
“Are you kidding? He never shuts up about you.”
“Really?”
“It gets kind of annoying actually.”
“Sorry,” I apologized with a laugh.
“Don’t be,” Holly responded. “I just know things that I shouldn’t probably, since I don’t really know you after all.”
“Like what?”
“Like your favorite color is blue, your favorite food is steak, you love animals, you blush easily, you’re clumsy, honest, gullible, and you suck at eye contact. Oh, and you’re birthday is tomorrow.”
I stared at her for a second, surprised. “Did Mr. Heywood tell you all that?”
“That’s not even a sixth of it.”
My face grew hot again, and I turned my attention back to the floor. Mr. Heywood knew my favorite color and food? He talked about my birthday? But the last time he had visited Holly was before we had had the confession talk . . . Did that mean something? Or was I just overthinking?
“Anyway, enough of me blabbing away,” Holly started again, breaking me from my thoughts. “It just is so boring in this hospital room.”
“It’s fine,” I told her. “When do you get out?”
“Saturday,” she told me, making a face. “My fiancée will be here by then. I need someone to drive since I broke my ankle.”
“Oh, right, because you were mugged . . .”
Holly looked away from me, a solemn expression slipping onto her face. “Um, right . . .”
My palms were beginning to get sweaty again as I tried to think of a way to ask what I came here to ask in the first place. When Holly’s eyes finally met mine again, I clenched my fist.
“You were attacked by Shawn, weren’t you?”
Holly’s eyes widened considerably. “W-what? No! Shawn is . . .”
“Shawn told me,” I said. “He told me he ‘got the wrong Holly,’ or something like that. I didn’t tell Mr. Heywood. You can tell me the truth, and I promise I won’t tell him.”
Holly stayed silent for a moment, her eyes downcast once again. I kept silent, waiting for her to speak. Was I right? Or would she was deny it? Maybe Shawn was lying?
Holly sighed, looking at me once more. “You can’t tell Chris.”
“I won’t,” I promised.
“I wasn’t mugged,” Holly said. “Shawn attacked me.”
LESSON thirty-one
“Before I tell you anything, I have a question,” Holly said, frowning at me. “How do you know about Shawn?”
I sighed. “It’s kind of a long story . . .”
“I’ve got time.”
After a moment of hesitation, I decided to tell her the whole story. I left out the whole Shawn wanting me part though. The last thing I needed was for more people to fret over me; Mr. Heywood and Jeremy worried about me enough for a hundred people.
“. . . And that’s how I learned about Mr. Heywood’s past as a gang member,” I finished, raising my eyes to look at Holly for the first time since I started explaining.
She was staring at me like I was crazy. I didn’t blame her. In retrospect, I realized every interaction I had with gang members was incredibly stupid, especially the whole “punch everyone” part of it.
“How could Mr. Heywood have dragged you into this? This is seriously dangerous,” Holly warned me when she finally spoke.
“I already know that,” I responded. “And it’s my fault I became involved . . . Mr. Heywood just complicates things.”
“He should have kept you out of it though.”
I frowned at her. “I’m the one who—
“It’s still his problem, Holly,” she said, shaking her head.
“It’s my problem now too,” I stated stubbornly. For some reason, I felt like I had to defend him. “Mr. Heywood didn’t have anything to do with that . . .”
Holly raised her eyebrow skeptically. “Is that so?”
“It is.” Okay, so it wasn’t the whole truth, but it wasn’t like Mr. Heywood forced me to punch anyone. Holly looked like she wanted to say more, but I cut her off before she could. “Now it’s your turn to talk. What happened with Shawn?”
“Before I answer, I have one more question. How did you know Shawn who attacked me instead of believing the mugging story?”
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br /> “Um . . .” I hesitated, blushing faintly from the embarrassment of my actions from the memory. “That night when I saw you for the first time, I went to the park after I . . . left the hospital. Shawn found me there. He said, ‘at least you’re the right Holly this time.’ Mr. Heywood had told me you had been mugged, but I figured Shawn might have done something to you, Holly.”
Holly frowned at me. “Shawn said something similar to me when he figured out I wasn’t who he thought I was. He said, ‘well, isn’t it my other Holly?’ At the time I didn’t know you existed, so I was pretty confused.” She sighed, tapping her finger against the metal rail on her bed. “You can’t tell Chris.”
“I know,” I responded. “But why not?”
“I’m done.”
The sudden coldness in her voice made me tense up. Her friendly demeanor had suddenly turned bitter, and her eyes, hard. I had to look away. My initial nervousness returned with new vigor.
“I won’t tell,” I finally said quietly.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” she responded, her tone lighter again. “I just can’t take this gangster business anymore. After Chris went to jail I promised myself that I would never get involved again—that’s why I moved away. And now I have a son—”
“You have a son?” I asked in shock. She must have had a relationship, like, only two months after Mr. Heywood went to jail . . . “Already?”
Holly shook her head, smiling at my expression. “He’s going to be my stepson.”
“When did you start dating your fiancé?” I asked before I could stop myself.
Holly raised an eyebrow, but shrugged. “Probably a month after Mr. Heywood went to jail.”
“Oh,” I responded. Only a month? She got over Mr. Heywood in a month?
“Holly, you’re showing your innocence.”
“What?”
“Your innocence,” Holly repeated. “The look on your face is telling me you don’t like the idea of me dating after only a month of breaking up with Chris. A month isn’t a short amount of time to get over someone. Don’t get me wrong, I did love him, but I also wanted to forget about him and the gang. I was scared.”
“Which I can understand,” I told her, nodding my head.
“But?”