Collide Series Box Set

by J. C. Hannigan

"At the lake," I replied, too exhausted to deflect her. Besides, I felt like I needed company.

  "I'll be there in ten," Jenna promised, hanging up. I dropped the phone back on the passenger seat, wiping the tears from my eyes as I looked at the landscape. The sun was just setting over the lake. I stared at it without really taking it in, my eyes blurred with fresh tears. I didn't bother wiping them away.

  Ten minutes later, Jenna tapped against the passenger window of my car. I hit the unlock button and she slid inside, closing the door behind her. She stared at me with her wide blue eyes. She looked a lot better than the last time I'd seen her, then and again…that had been in the hospital, the day I'd run into Iain, the day before his arrest. She wore her hair in a casual braid down her back with a headband pushing back her fringe. She looked healthy and happy.

  "I'm sorry," I said.

  "For what?" Jenna asked, her face clouding with confusion.

  "For not being there," I explained, rolling my eyes. "I kind of ditched you."

  "I understand." Jenna waved her hand impatiently. "That's not important. Are you okay?"

  "No, not really. No," I answered honestly, laughing bitterly. "I thought he'd call…or find a way to reach out to me…something."

  "Maybe he's not allowed," Jenna offered, shrugging.

  "This is all my fault," I moaned, burying my face in my hands as fresh tears poured out of me. It was the first time I really allowed myself to cry.

  Jenna rubbed my back, keeping silent for a few moments as she thought about what to say. Finally, she sighed. "It's not just your fault. He knew better. He should have never…encouraged it."

  "We both couldn't ignore the pull." I sniffed. "He made me feel so alive, and honestly, I haven't felt that since Lauren died. I needed that."

  "Lauren?" Jenna asked, looking confused again. I froze, realizing that I hadn't once told her about Lauren. I knew, as painful as it was, that I'd have to tell Jenna about Lauren. I couldn't keep burying it.

  "She was my best friend," I finally said. "She died over a year ago."

  "I'm sorry," Jenna said, continuing to rub my back as I spoke about Lauren, about who she'd been and about the accident that killed her.

  "I had been walking around like a zombie, after that. Iain made me feel alive. He made me feel whole."

  Jenna bit her lip, considering her words. "You did that yourself, Harlow," she told me gently.

  "What do you mean?" I asked, looking at her incredulously.

  "I mean, you did that…not Iain," Jenna explained. "He just gave you an outlet. You let someone in."

  * * *

  The day before the jury reached their decision, more photos came to light. The photographer had captured me and Iain in a heated embrace, in the hotel that we had stayed in during our trip to Ottawa. Iain was charged with "sexual exploitation of a minor." They couldn't prove that Iain had a sexual relationship with the other students that had come forward, but the photos were enough to condemn him. He lost his teaching license and had to serve a year in jail. He didn't reach out to me after the trial, and I sent one letter that went unanswered.

  Attending school was difficult to do, but I had to. Jenna refused to let me sink into a hole of despair over it. She came over every single day to get me up and force me to get ready.

  "No offense, Harlow, but you've dealt with worse things than high school," she reminded me. "Besides, we only have a few months left. Don't make me go back there alone."

  In the end, I went back. I passed all of the exams that the school board gave me to test my intelligence. Jenna and I endured a lot of stares from our peers. The two of us were the most talked about girls at school.

  The first few weeks were the hardest. Although I'd kept silent about what happened and although Larry had succeeded in having the photos of me and Iain removed from the Internet, the rumors still swirled about the lunch room and by lockers. Students would stare openly at me, their words hissing out in quick spurts as they gossiped. But after a while, it tapered off. People started to forget, and to move on to the next big thing: prom.

  I didn't want to go, but Jenna refused to take no for an answer. "I worked so hard to get back in shape for this," she told me as she dragged me from store to store at the mall, searching for the best prom dress. "You can't bail on me."

  "Just go with Jake," I begged, rolling my eyes. "I really do not want to go." Aside from Jenna and Jake, I didn't have any friends. Nor did I want to spend the night dancing with someone who wasn't Iain.

  "Seriously?" Jenna stopped looking at the dress she'd been inspecting and turned to stare at me, raising her eyebrows.

  "It's just prom." I rolled my eyes again, exasperated. But Jenna was relentless, and she wouldn't give up until I finally gave in and bought a simple black dress. Finally satisfied, she allowed me to leave the mall after she found her dress—a royal blue gown with a sweetheart neckline.

  Jenna, Jake and I went "together." Although Jenna and Jake were nearly a couple, they still did their best to make me not feel like the third wheel. I didn't mind going with them, especially since nobody held my interest. Nobody but Iain, that was. I still hadn't heard from him, but I had given up on trying. I knew if he wanted to reach out to me, he would. Every day that passed with him not reaching out stung, but I did my best to push through it with help from Jenna.

  Jenna even applied to several of the same universities I applied to so that we could attend together. The two of us had formed an unlikely, unbreakable bond. Had someone told me at the beginning of the year that I would end up being best friends with one of the popular girls that had tossed me dirty looks during my first day of school, I would have laughed manically. Now, I was thankful to have her as a friend. Knowing that she'd be near me in university calmed my nerves.

  * * *

  After May, June came. I graduated as one of the tops of my class, although I was picked over to give the valedictorian speech. I knew the reason why, although they didn't officially give me one.

  "You look gorgeous, honey," Mom said, seeing me in my blue gown and graduation cap as I stood in front of my bedroom mirror.

  "Thanks," I said, giving her a small smile. She came into my room and sat down on my unmade bed, still looking at me with a smile on her face.

  "I am so proud of you, honey," she told me. "You've come a long way this year."

  "Really?" I asked, disbelief apparent in my voice and on my face.

  "Yes, really," Mom answered, serious. "You've been through a lot. You've made some mistakes, but you're in a better place because of it."

  I said nothing, shocked by her honesty.

  "Well, it's time to go," Mom said, standing up and heading out of my room. I followed her into the kitchen, where Larry was waiting. He was dressed in a suit, rolling on his heels as if he was nervous. We hadn't really had a whole lot of contact since Iain's sentencing. He probably thought I blamed him, but I didn't. I had at first, of course, but then I realized that Iain and I were really to blame. We'd both known it was illegal, even if I had naively thought that a Romeo and Juliet clause would save him.

  "You look great, Harlow," Larry said, clearing his throat uncomfortably.

  "Thanks, Larry," I answered, trying to smile.

  "Well, let's go." Mom picked up her purse, motioning for us to get moving. I had to be there in less than fifteen minutes.

  The next hour was chaotic as the teachers organized us by last name. We waited in line then made the progression outside to where the bleachers had been set up. Family of the graduating students filled the bleachers, and in front of the bleachers was enough chairs for all of us to sit. One by one, the teachers directed us down to our seats. It was surreal, hearing all of my classmates' names called. Jake did the rock-and-roll devil sign with his hand as he accepted his diploma from Mr. Osborne, earning several laughs and an eye roll from Mr. Osborne himself. Jenna sobbed while she took hers, and I barely made eye contact when my name was called. A chorus of hushed whispers accompanied the announce
ment of my name. I couldn't help but feel paranoid and think that everyone was remembering the scandal.

  Finally, after the valedictorian drawled on and on for a solid forty-five minutes about the next chapter of our lives, the ceremony came to a close.

  * * *

  That summer, Jenna's parents rented a two-bedroom apartment near the University of Ottawa, subleasing a room out to me for next to nothing. They would have allowed me to live there rent free if I hadn't insisted on paying them something each month.

  We moved into the apartment in July, so that we could find part-time jobs and adjust to life before university started. I landed a job at a local coffee shop close to our new apartment. Everything was within walking or busing distance, so I sold my car, unable to really afford the insurance on it anyway, and treated myself to yet another tattoo: a colourful phoenix on my right calf, meant to pay tribute to me rising from the ashes, yet again.

  I still thought about Iain often, but I never heard from him. Due to the nature of his charges, I'm sure his lawyer advised him not to contact me. I had almost expected him to do so after his sentence was up, but he never did. I didn't hear a whisper.

  At first, it hurt like hell. I realized he had a lot of time to think about us, and probably had grown to resent me. I missed him, but over time the ache in my chest faded. He would always be my first true love, the love that pulled me out of the darkness and brought me back to life in a way. Jenna still insisted that it had been all me…and maybe it had been.

  Two years into university, one snowy day in December, I was with Jenna at the St. Laurent Centre on a rare day off, doing some obligatory Christmas shopping. She was laughing about a pair of crocodile print leather pants at H&M, holding them out to me and trying to urge me to try them on, when she fell silent. An odd look passed over her face as she squinted toward the front of the store.

  I glanced behind me, seeing the familiar dirty blond hair and piercing Caribbean blue eyes of my twelfth grade English teacher. He was standing at the front of the store, near the mall exit, holding up a pair of jeans. Our eyes met, and I drew in my breath. He'd lost some weight, and his hair was a little more unruly and longer, but he still sent shivers of desire coursing through my body.

  Read on for an exclusive addition of Iain’s POV!

  Iain’s POV

  I had done everything I could think of to prepare for the year…the semester’s curriculum was thoroughly planned out. The only thing I hadn’t counted on was being prepared emotionally for the students, or rather…one student in particular.

  It was my first year of teaching high school students. My last position had been an EA at the local public school. I hadn’t had as much responsibility then as I would this year.

  This year, I would be filling in for a teacher that had gone on maternity leave. I was a little nervous about teaching high school students, but I was trying to remain confident that it would be easier than teaching third graders.

  At least I didn’t have to worry about the students trying to eat glue.

  However, my hopeful delusions that it would be easier to teach teenagers evaporated in a puff of smoke as reality…and temptation…crossed the threshold of my classroom.

  I was sitting at my desk, my feet resting on top of it while I glanced over the week’s itinerary and leisurely sipped on coffee. It was black, the way I liked it. I was content to sit in the silence of an empty classroom, enjoying the peace and quiet of my life before everything changed.

  A movement caught my eye by the door, and I glanced up.

  She was standing in the doorway, those large, luminous green eyes roaming over the length of my body with open interest. She looked like trouble…like sin and torment were written all over those curves. Her hair was long and silky, flowing in ebony waves down her back and spilling over her shoulders. Her skin was flawless, like porcelain. The flash of red against her lips made me lick my own. The Catholic school uniform made her look like the inspiration of naughty dreams.

  My mouth went dry, and I swallowed, forcing myself to smile at her. It came easily, smiling at a gorgeous girl. I tried to tell myself that the increase in my heart beat was natural.

  “Hello,” I said, still smiling. She ran a hand through her gorgeous hair, the causal movement capturing my attention. The sensual smile on those painted red lips as she approached me made my pants feel a lot tighter than they had in the moments before.

  “Hi, I’m new here…Harlow Jones,” her voice was like honey…sweet and tempting, with an undercurrent of edge. She extended her dainty hand to me.

  “I’m Mr. Bentley,” touching her was a bad idea, but I shook her hand anyway. Her skin felt like a soft caress against my calloused palms. I tried to avoid looking at her chest, but her breasts lined up perfectly with my eyes. My throat tightened as my eyes covertly lapped across the tastefully exposed flesh of her breast, drinking in the six minimalistic birds in flight tattooed across her dainty collar bone. I involuntary imagined what it would be trace kisses along that space, her breasts spilling from the palms of my hands.

  “Is there a seating arrangement?” her voice broke the spell of my eyes on her, and I realized with embarrassment that I was still holding her hand. I released it.

  “Nope, sit wherever you’d like,” I motioned around the room, keeping my eyes on her warily. She smiled slyly, as if she found a hidden innuendo in my words. She didn’t carry herself like a high school student…especially not one from a small Northern town. My curiosity got the better of me. “Where are you from, Miss Jones?”

  “Toronto. I used to attend Trafalgar’s All-Girl School,” she answered, smiling suggestively. I swallowed hard, her answer provoked a heavy stirring of lust in my loins. I smiled stiffly back at her, hoping she would go away before I had an embarrassing problem. She stood there, though, until the other students started to pile into the classroom. “Later, Mr. Bentley,” she said softly before she sauntered off toward the back of the classroom.

  I avoided looking in her direction and forced myself to think incredibly unsexy thoughts as I waited for the students to find their seats. Nothing gets rid of a boner faster than thinking about your sick Grandma and reminding yourself to call your mom after work.

  I waited until the last of the students were seated in their desks before I stood up, my would-be-embarrassing problem solved, now a non-issue, unless I allowed my gaze to drift to her again.

  “Welcome back everyone,” I said, my gaze traveling from one side of the room to another as I looked at the faces of my students. I strategically avoided looking directly at Harlow, as if she was a Siren. I turned to face the blackboard, picking up a piece of chalk in my hand. I tossed it once, catching it before it could fall. “I’m Mr. Bentley. It’s my first year teaching so go easy on me,” I told them, grinning over my shoulder before I wrote my name in block letters.

  I faced the students again, walking around the length of my desk. I leaned against it, my eyes still observing the less than thrilled faces of teenagers that were my new students. “Instead of doing actual work on the first day, we are going to play a “get to know one another” game. I would like each one of you to say your name and a word to describe yourselves. For homework, I want you to write a detailed essay about yourselves. What makes you you, and all that fun stuff. But first…let’s do introductions.”

  I listened while a bunch of students introduced themselves, trying to commit their faces and names to memory. My glance flitted toward the trio of girls sitting in front of Harlow, arching my eyebrow at the first girl, encouraging her to start with a slight nod.

  “My name’s Jenna and one word to describe me would be fun!” the first girl, a bubbly blond said. I watched as Harlow rolled her eyes skyward, and I tried not to grin.

  “I’m Callie and one word to describe me is playful,” the platinum blond sitting directly in front of Jenna said while she twirled her hair on her finger and eyed me suggestively.

  “I’m Tara and I’m happy!” the dark h
aired girl sitting beside Callie said, followed by a high-pitched laugh that made Harlow wince.

  “I’m Harlow, and one word to describe me is single,” Harlow’s eyes were wide with feigned innocence as she looked at me pointedly. Several of the male students turned around in their chairs to check her out.

  “Well then,” I cleared my throat, trying not to laugh. “I’m sure a lot of the guys here are glad to hear that, Harlow.” And I’m envious that they get that opportunity, I added silently.

  My eyes connected with hers for the briefest of moments. I couldn’t deny that I was interested, what hot blooded male wouldn’t be? She was stunning. She’s your student, I reminded myself before my gaze moved on to the kid sitting behind her. He had light eyes, light hair, and a trim build that most teenage boys effortlessly have.

  “My name’s Riley and I’m horny,” he declared. While half the class snickered at his proclamation, he leaned forward in his seat. “What are you doing tonight?” he asked Harlow, covertly looking at her.

  “Sorry, working,” Harlow responded, smiling as if she enjoyed the attention. Her eyes locked with mine again, and I felt a pull toward her that made me want to cross the classroom and punch Riley out, just for expressing an interest in her. I wanted her.

  “Alright, that’s enough.” I said, aggravated. “None of that in my classroom, please, Riley. Can you think of another word?”

  “Disappointed,” Riley shrugged, not at all looking put-off by Harlow’s rejection. “But determined.”

  “Alright then,” I clenched my jaw with irritation. Harlow was getting under my skin…in all the wrong ways. “Moving on. Next?”

  Thankfully, the rest of the introductions were uneventful.

  I was relieved to leave the school on my lunch break. I drove to pick up a sub from the Mr. Sub down the street, and returned to the school to eat it in the staff room. I ran into Harlow in the parking lot. She was getting out of a Jeep followed by three guys.