The world returned in a flash of sound. Screams from the students, yells from teachers, but I kept pounding, pounding, pounding. The memory of that laughter banging around in my head like a wrecking ball.
Strong arms trapped mine, pulling me off the bloody kid who was now writhing in pain. My eyes began to focus, first landing on Lindsay’s terrified, tear-streaked face. Then on Blake who appeared out of nowhere. His smirk was subtle, victorious. The quiet, the calm. It’d been a trap. He slid to the right, pushing through a crowd until he found his goal.
Skylar.
She watched with horror, glancing from me to the bloody boy, then from me to Lindsay.
I lunged when Blake whispered something in her ear and pulled her out of the crowd. No, no, no. This wasn’t happening.
“That’s enough!” Principal Rayburn hissed before pushing me toward his office. “I told you I’d make an example of you if you pulled another stunt. Well, congratulations, Mr. James, you officially have my attention.”
“They put a stripper pole in her locker.” He pushed me through the hall with more strength than I expected. “They called her a whore.”
We went right past the receptionist and into his office. He shoved me into the blasted wooden chair I hated.
“When are you kids going to realize you aren’t the authority in this school? Violence isn’t the answer.”
“Then what is?” I balled my fist, ready to fight for my life. “Because nothing you have done has stopped it.”
The heat from his stare could have dried the sweat beading on my forehead. There was no trust in his eyes, just accusation like I was responsible for the whole scenario. “You’re suspended. Three days. No Super 32 and you’re off the team for good if I catch you fighting again.”
“Sir…” It was too much. A penalty far greater than the crime.
“My decision is final. I’m done with you boys thinking you run this school.”
I let my head fall into my shaking hands while Principal Rayburn called my parents. I wasn’t trying to run the school. I was fighting for my life, for Lindsay’s life. And failing miserably.
SKYLAR
Madison High felt tarnished. The echo of footsteps a rumbling sound in my ears. The chatter of students a constant reminder of Cody’s brutality. He was a madman, punching and punching even after the guy had stilled.
A locker slammed next to my head.
“He was suspended three days. Chugger just texted me. Coach is sending him in Cody’s place this weekend.” Zoe’s need to dive right into gossip made me want to storm off. Instead, I stayed frozen. My back pressed against the locker, and my arms folded around my economics book.
“Skylar?”
Disgust weaved into my voice. “I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”
Her face paled. “I was just trying to tell you what’s going on. I’m sorry. I should have known this would upset you.”
Yes, she should have known. Because my boyfriend wasn’t just suspended for fighting. He’d become someone I didn’t recognize. Someone who made me question sharing my deepest secrets. Someone I never would have taken to meet my dad.
My phone dinged, and my stupid heart stuttered because I hoped it was Cody. The one person I wanted to slap, yet comfort.
Zoe eyed my purse. “That’s probably him.”
The phone dinged again, and I pulled it out.
Cody: Meet me at Veteran’s Park
A demand. No, “Please.” No, “I’m sorry.” Just an expectation that I’d skip school to talk to him. And sadly, I knew I would.
Zoe saw the text and frowned. “Go talk to him. I’ll cover for you.”
“You will?” My anger faltered, replaced by gratitude that Zoe would put aside her feelings for mine even though she still believed Cody betrayed Blake.
She spun her pinky ring round and round. “I don’t like it, and I still think he’s bad for you. But if I were in your shoes, I’d want to know what happened.”
“I won’t be gone long.” I hugged her quickly and took off toward the parking lot. Hoping. Wishing. Praying Cody’s sudden violence would make sense.
CODY
My cut and bruised knuckles throbbed almost as much as my chest. I’d texted Skylar ten minutes ago, and she never responded. Blake pulled her away, and Coach wouldn’t even look at me when Principal Rayburn told him what happened. Could the day get any worse?
A flash of black caught my eye, and I walked toward Skylar’s Mustang the minute she parked, willing myself to be calm and ignore the crashing anxiety brewing inside. She came, so maybe I hadn’t lost everything.
Skylar emerged from the car, her face encased in hurt. There was no smile. No greeting. She barely made eye contact.
My hand itched to reach for her. “Talk to me.”
She slammed her door. “Why did you have to punch him?”
The explanation choked me. I’d lost control, reverted to a time that wouldn’t stop haunting me. “He was harassing Lindsay.”
“So? There wasn’t a better way to handle it?” She pulled at her locket in jerky motions. “You could have turned him in.”
A muscle in my jaw jumped. “And then what? They investigate and the entire senior class lies and says they don’t know who did it? Stuff like this has been happening since school started. It’s happening outside of school, too. Social media. Prank calls. I had to send a message.”
Her teeth gnawed on her lower lip. “You didn’t stop. Even after he quit fighting back.”
Her words tore at the fabric of my resolve. “You’re right, and I regret losing control. But I’ve done the easy stuff. I’ve walked her to class, sat with her at lunch. I’ve called people out when they act like she’s trash.” I squeezed my eyes, trying to get my swirling emotions under control. “No one should ever be made to feel like that, Skylar. I had to do something.”
“Well, you did, and that something got you suspended, took away your chance to compete, and will probably make my dad even stricter when I tell him. I’m not trying to be selfish, Cody, but when is Lindsay going do something for herself?”
I cupped her cheek, willed those green eyes to stop looking at me like I’d let her down. She leaned into my touch, and I felt my pulse at every pressure point. My free hand found her waist, and I pulled her close. “Lindsay’s scared. She’s never been the outcast. She’s always had the security of Blake and his friends. Eventually, I know she’ll find the inner strength to get through this. She just needs support in the meantime.” Matt had been mine, and I would be hers. He had saved me. I would pay it forward.
She tapped her forehead against my chest. “I’m just so disappointed about this weekend.”
“Me, too.”
Skylar rubbed her hands up and down my spine. “How bad is it going to be for you?”
I exhaled like I’d been holding my breath for an hour. “I’ll probably be grounded for the rest of my life.” I pulled her closer, played with the strands of hair that fell down her back. Lunch was almost over, and she’d have to leave soon.
“Are you still going to Greensboro?” I asked even though the question brought another round of disappointment. I still hadn’t accepted that my only chance to win Super 32 was gone.
“I have to. Zoe’s parents only let her go because I was going. And now that Chugger is competing, she’d kill me if I backed out.”
I was glad she talked to my chest because she couldn’t see the way those words ripped at my gut. Chugger took my place in the competition. Blake wanted my place in Skylar’s life.
He was doing exactly what he threatened—taking everything from me one piece at a time.
SKYLAR
I’d never considered myself a mean person or a vengeful person or even a jealous person, but when Lindsay cornered me in the crowded hall after school, I felt a little of all three.
People gave us a wide berth as they walked past but slowed down and strained their necks to listen. In their minds, Cody’s girlfriend and his mistr
ess were about to have a cat fight. Maybe we were.
“What do you want?” I wasn’t in the mood to talk or to be nice. Zoe called Lindsay a drama queen, a liar, and a threat to my relationship with Cody. I was beginning to believe her.
Lindsay swung her hair to the side, used it as a shield to those on our left. “I just wanted you to know that it wasn’t Cody’s fault. He was defending me.”
Duh. I was his girlfriend for crying out loud. “I know. Cody tells me everything.” Okay, maybe that last part was unnecessary, but, seriously, did her eyes have to be so dang blue and innocent looking? No wonder Cody wanted to save her. “Damsel in distress” was in her DNA.
“Yeah, of course he does. Good. I was worried you’d be upset and with everything that happened sophomore year with Tom Baker and the pictures, he’s just really sensitive about things.”
I flinched but kept myself still. “Right. Sophomore year.”
“But he was so excited about meeting your dad; he really was.”
For a moment I could only panic. “What did he say about my dad?”
Her eyes widened. “Just that he was really scary. And he asked a bunch of questions about wrestling and the future.”
My mouth dropped and my emotions moved from mildly irritated to fully ticked off. He was talking to her about me? About my dad?
Her voice became rushed, and I wondered if she could see the damage she was doing with this little contrived apology. “I’m saying all the wrong things. I’m sorry. I just wanted you to know how much he cares about you. And after all his struggles, and after all he’s been through, I want him to be happy.”
“Yeah. Me, too.” Zoe was right. The girl oozed sweetness and cyanide at the same time. “Listen, I gotta go.”
I walked to my car in a daze. He told her things about us. Things about him I didn’t know. All our secrets we shared. Had he shared them with her too?
*
The electricity in the Greensboro Coliseum was a living, breathing thing. It bounced off the walls, swirled through the stands and settled on the wrestlers sparring in different areas. It zapped me, too, my heart pounding in anticipation.
It was nine in the morning on Saturday, and after a sleepless night in a lumpy hotel bed and four unreturned calls to Cody, I fed off the energy. Ten circle mats lined the floor with teams surrounding them. Stadium seating ran the length of the mats and, while mostly full, Zoe and I found an entire row to ourselves.
“I’m so nervous for him,” Zoe said, squeezing my hand. Chugger was stretching and getting ready for his first match. “He doesn’t think he has a shot, but I know he really wants at least one win.”
The guys walked toward the circle with puffed chests and killer expressions.
I bit back a laugh. Wrestling uniforms were ridiculous. It was like Speedos and overalls collided to produce a fashion disaster. I wondered what Cody would look like wearing one. His body was muscle and sharpness. The lines in his arms carved like stone. Every inch of his broad chest would be on display, his tight six-pack etched in the black spandex.
Zoe poked my side. “Why are you blushing?”
“What?” My cheeks burned. “I’m not.”
“Oh, yes, you are.” Her mouth hung open. “Skylar Da Lange, what were you just thinking about?”
“Nothing.” Cody. “I was thinking how ridiculous their uniforms are.” And how hot Cody would look wearing his. “Stop staring at me like that.”
The whistle blew the same time my phone dinged.
Cody: I finally got my phone back. Are you at the match?
Zoe hit my arm and pointed to the arena floor. Chugger struggled against his opponent, the two spinning as they hung on to one another. Blake catalogued every move from the sidelines, cheering on his friend. I wondered if Cody would do the same thing. If he’d find joy just from being here and watching the sport he loved.
Me: Can you FaceTime?
The noise level was manageable. Most people were either engrossed in a match or waiting for one while they played on their phones.
Cody: Yes. Hold on.
Seconds later, the face I hadn’t seen in twenty-four hours hit my screen.
“Hi,” he said with a grin as wide as mine. “Gotta love technology.”
“Were you in a lot of trouble?”
“Yes and no. Yes, because of how I handled it. No, because I was defending someone. Only grounded for a week.” He lay back on his bed, and I noticed he had a dark blue pillowcase with stripes on the edge.
I wanted to see more. Know what his world was like when he wasn’t in school. Know what happened his sophomore year. “Show me your room.”
“No way. It’s messy.”
“Ah, come on. I want to see what posters you have on the walls.”
Panic flashed in Cody’s eyes, and I burst out laughing. My dad. Hundred bucks said my dad was on his wall. “You have his…”
“Don’t judge.”
Zoe nudged me. “You’re missing it. They’re about to start round three.”
Cody sat up. “Is Blake wrestling?”
“No, Chugger. It’s his first match. Wanna see?”
There was a twinge of pain in his eyes, but he said, “Yes.’
I walked down the steps, holding the rail for stability. When I hit the fourth row, I held up my phone, so Cody could watch the match over the spectators’ heads. “Can you see?” I asked into the speaker.
“Down just a little. Okay. Yeah. Hold there.”
I stood at the rail through Chugger’s last round. He beat his opponent, I think, because Blake hollered, and I heard a faint “yes” through the phone. Chugger ran back to his coach and got a slap on the back. I turned the phone back around.
“Good?”
Cody heaved a big sigh. “Yeah. That was cool. Thank you.”
I sat on the closest empty seat. Whistles reverberated off the walls, and two men with huge drinks stepped past me to get to the aisle. I ached to ask him what Lindsay meant about Tom Baker and the pictures but wouldn’t do it over the phone. “I miss you. I really wish you were here.”
Cody brow dipped. “I know. I wish I was there, too. What are your plans?”
I groaned. “I think we’ll be here forever. And I’m already kinda done.” It wasn’t that I wasn’t having fun, but wrestling was pretty boring to watch, and without Cody, everything felt empty. My first real independent outing, and all I wanted was to be home. Sad. Very sad. “What about you?”
He tapped his lips. “Hmmmm. Well, I’m grounded from TV. Grounded from the Internet. I finished all my homework an hour ago. So, I guess I’ll sit and mope.” His smile said he was teasing, but he fell silent. The kind of silent that told me he was sorting though a million thoughts.
A knock had Cody dropping the phone. My screen was suddenly a close up of his comforter, but the voices remained clear.
A woman’s voice, whose tone definitely implied authority, spoke. “You have a friend here. Five minutes.”
“Who?”
“She said her name was Lindsay. Was she the one?”
The curiosity and innuendo in her words made my heart pound against my ribcage. I sucked in a breath to calm myself and licked my suddenly dry lips. I heard a faint, “I’ll be there in one second,” and then a door closing.
Cody’s face appeared back on the phone. “I have to run just real quick. Can I call you back?”
I forced a smile. “Sure.”
The rumors swirled in my head. The ones I chose not to believe. The ones that said Cody and Lindsay had been intimate on more than one occasion. Had she been in his room? Did she know how his bed felt? Had she seen my dad on his wall?
A painful pulse started beneath my skull as I trudged up the steps to Zoe.
She beamed like sunshine against my darkness. “He won. Did you see?” She practically bounced in her chair until she noticed my scowl. “What’s wrong?”
I clenched my phone. “Nothing.”
Everything.
CODY
The tiny blond I defended waited for me on the porch.
“Are you okay?” I pulled the front door shut and away from my parents’ eavesdropping.
Lindsay fiddled with the hem of her shirt. “I came to check on you.”
“I’m fine.”
A strangled beat of silence.
Finally, her eyes met mine, her teeth mashing her bottom lip. “Principal Rayburn asked me what happened.”
“Did you tell him?” Maybe one good thing would come from this mess.
“Yes. Not that it made a difference. You’re still suspended because of me. And we both know his supposed investigation will turn up nothing.”
“Maybe so, but you told the truth, which means they’ll lay low for a while.” I reached out and gently took her arm. “I should have handled the situation better, but I don’t regret putting him in his place. No one should ever speak to you like that.”
“I’ve cost you too much. Super 32. Skylar. I tried talking to her, but I swear I only made things worse.” Her shaky voice told me tears would be coming soon. I’d never known Lindsay to be so fragile; but every day they attacked her, I saw her shrink further and further into herself.
“Don’t worry about Skylar. We’re good.” I dropped my hand when Lindsay nodded.
She glanced toward her car then stepped in that direction. “Well, I’m going to go. I just wanted to say thank you. You left school afterwards.”
“They kind of make you do that when they suspend you.”
She recoiled from my words, apologizing again.
“Lindsay, stop. It’s not your fault.”
“You keep saying that, but it doesn’t feel like it’s not.”
I couldn’t help it. She just looked so broken and lost standing there. I pulled her into a hug, and she melted into me, clinging as if I offered her some kind of lifeline. She needed me, and I needed to see this thing through. Needed to vindicate all the Fatty Jameses in the world who suffered this kind of abuse.
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