Count On Me

by Melyssa Winchester

  Actions speak louder than words ever could, Kayden. If you’re really sorry, prove it.

  What does she think I was trying to do in offering her the ride home?

  I know I was an asshole to her and even to her friend, but I haven’t been able to think of much else since. It’s bad enough that I have to admit to myself that I might like this girl, but did I really have to grovel at her feet?

  The short answer is, yeah, I do.

  I’m haunted by the look I saw in her eyes in the hall today. I hate that she thinks of me that way. I get the feeling that because she can’t talk; she sees more than the rest of us do, so she’s seeing something in me that no one else can. Something that even I can’t see in myself and there’s the urge to be around her so that maybe she can show it to me.

  I don’t want to go home. I know what I’m going to find there when I do. Dean’s going to be passed out on his ass again, angry because, as he says, I made him lose yet another job and we’re probably gonna lose the house because of it. It’s the same damn conversation every single day, especially when he’s not working and I’m sick of it.

  I can’t stay here though. I don’t want her mom to come home and see me. I’m not sure how much she tells her, especially the last couple of days, but if she’s said anything about me or what happened to her then I know being caught isn’t going to go well. I just don’t know where else I’m supposed to go.

  Times like this I wish my mom was still around. I’d be able to go home if she was here and I might be able to tell her everything that’s going on. I could have her help me make sense of it. She was pretty flighty and at times I wondered what the hell she was even doing with kids, but there were good times when she was with us. She did try. It’s those times now that I want so badly because I hate feeling this alone.

  You don’t feel alone when you’re with her.

  The nagging voice in my head, pointing out the obvious has been with me now for the last two days. It’s right though. I don’t feel alone when I’m around Isabelle. In fact I don’t feel much of anything at all, at least the negative stuff. It’s quiet, but it’s comfortable. Even with her issues and the god awful way she smelled in my car yesterday, she still made me feel things that I haven’t felt in forever.

  She makes me want to be better.

  I know what I have to do now. It’s the only thing I can do. I have to take her advice because she’s right. If she wants actions instead of just my words then I’ll give it to her.

  I just hope it works.

  Belle

  I’m not sure what I expected when I got off the bus this morning, but it wasn’t this.

  Standing at the curb, rolling back and forth on his feet is Kayden and instead of looking uncomfortable or like he would rather be anywhere else, he looks happy. The minute I step down off the bus and my feet hit the ground; he raises his gaze in my direction and smiles.

  His smile seems to light up his entire face. I’ve seen him angry and stressed, but never quite like this. His cheekbones raised, his eye brows lifted and those eyes, the green that before had been deflated, are sparkling under the light of the sun.

  When we were kids he used to have long shaggy hair and you were lucky if you ever saw his eyes, let alone this way. I hate admitting it, but I’m glad that he decided in our freshman year to cut it, because it gave me a full view of everything now. What had once been long and shaggy is now almost military cut, with only the barest bit of hair on top and completely shaven further down.

  I don’t normally give much thought to how people look, mainly because with everything I have to deal with, judging on appearance seems wrong, but I can’t help myself this time because he looks beautiful.

  “Good morning Belle.”

  No one calls me Belle. Well, other than my mom and sometimes Tristan. Adults seem to think that shortening my name makes it slang, so they go out of their way to make sure my entire name is said. I’ve gotten so used to hearing it that when he calls me Belle it takes me a minute to process it. I’m not sure how I feel about it, but with the way he says it so easily, I’ll figure out how I really feel about it later.

  I blink a few times and raise my hand in what I can only describe as my version of a wave. It’s such a pathetic attempt even I regret it, but when the smile doesn’t leave his face, I accept it and continue walking.

  I enjoy the few minutes of silence as my moving forward takes him off guard, but in no time at all I see the shadow of his body beside mine and my heart almost beats out of my chest.

  This is not good. I can’t have this kind of reaction right now. I’ve been trying to live down what happened two days ago and now here he is, causing it all to come back around. I don’t want to have an accident, but I don’t have the first clue how to let him know that’s exactly what’s bound to happen if he keeps walking with me like this.

  There’s an electric surge through me as his hand brushes against mine while we’re walking and it almost stops me in my tracks. If I didn’t want to escape him and the way I’m feeling, I would stop, but my need to get away wins out. I can’t let him, or anyone else, see me break down.

  “Belle, stop.” His voice commands softly and I’ll be damned if my body doesn’t instantly respond. It does nothing for the racing of my heart, but it does ground my thoughts, at least for the moment.

  I raise my eyes in question and I catch his smile again. The fluttering I felt yesterday returns and I’m confused. What is it about Kayden that makes this happen?

  “I want to walk with you, but it’s like you can’t get away from me fast enough.”

  “What do you want from me?!” I scream inside my head, wishing that the words would just come out of my now half open mouth. If I could just get the words out like a normal human being, maybe all of this could end and I could get back to normal, but no, that’s never how my life works.

  Sliding my backpack off my arm, I unzip it and drag out a notepad and pen. I begin scribbling and I push the pad at him, zipping up my bag and turning again to walk away.

  Let him take what he wants from it, but I can’t be a part of whatever it is he’s attempting to do. I might not be like everyone else, but I did mean what I wrote him yesterday. I don’t want to hear his apologies. I can’t believe it.

  “What do you think I’m trying to do?” he calls to me when I’m about three feet away. Stopping and waiting a few seconds to see if he’s going to follow that question up with anything, I turn back on my heels and stomp back to him. Grabbing the pad from his hands, I again start writing. If nothing else comes from this, I need him to know that I can’t be near him right now. It’s doing more harm than good.

  I think you’re trying to do what you started with Eric yesterday. You told me you enjoy hurting people. So if this is your way of getting close to me so you can hurt me, just stop. I don’t like you standing this close to me, touching me, because I don’t know what it means. It makes me feel things I don’t understand and it’s scaring me. If you care at all, please, just let me go or everything’s just gonna get worse.

  I start to walk away again, but this time he doesn’t give me a chance to get more than maybe two steps away. He grabs me by the wrist and spins me around until I’m facing him again.

  “This isn’t a trick. I know you don’t believe that, so I’ll let you go for now, but Isabelle Reagan, I’m not done with you.”

  True to his word he releases his hold and I just stare at the place where his fingers rested. My heart is still beating wild in my chest and the words I want to say are all garbled and stuck in my throat. Before I can start walking away, he does first and the minute he’s out of earshot, I let out the breath I’ve been holding.

  What does he mean by ‘I’m not done with you’ and why did my heart still for a tiny second when he said my name that way?

  Kayden

  Whatever it is you’re trying to do, just stop. Please leave me alone.

  I actually expected to see those words, so when they came,
it didn’t even faze me. It was everything that came next that blew me away. It was hard to read at first, her having written it as fast as she did, but I got the gist pretty damn quick.

  If I wasn’t determined to do what she told me, seeing her back as she walked away from me would have seriously pissed me off. I’ve never had this much trouble getting close to a girl, let alone talking to one. Usually they climb all over themselves trying to get my attention and that’s not me laying on an ego trip, it’s the truth. When you’re a football player, it’s almost a god given right that every female within spitting distance will want you. At least that’s how it is in Wexfield.

  Isabelle has got to be the most difficult girl, no—person that I’ve ever dealt with and it’s got nothing to do with what’s wrong with her. She’s just not like any other person I’ve met before and that’s why I’m so damn determined to get close to her, even if it means blowing up the entire social order of the school to do it.

  I know it’s only a matter of time before word of me talking to her gets around. By lunch it’s going to be front page news in the school paper for Christ sakes. It’s just the way it works here, but I seriously don’t care.

  It makes me feel things I don’t understand and it’s scaring me.

  She’s not the only one that’s confused by what they’re feeling. She’s also not the only one that’s scared here. This girl, damn. I’ve been going out of my way to avoid her since the day I turned ten. What the hell I’m doing around her now is beyond me. I don’t want to scare her, but I also don’t think I’m quite ready to give up on her just yet. I need to know what it is about her that I can’t seem to walk away from first.

  When I brushed her hand, there was this second where it felt like I stuck my fingers in a wall socket. I was charged with a current so strong I can’t even describe it right. I shook it off pretty quick, not wanting her to see me react, but it doesn’t mean I didn’t notice because I did and I liked it.

  I’m fucking pathetic.

  I walked away from her first because I wanted to make it easy on her, but I’m not entirely sure how much easier it’s all going to be when my final words were that I wasn’t done with her. If she wasn’t completely scared and put off by me before, she most definitely will be now. It wasn’t meant as a threat, but she doesn’t exactly think the way everyone else does, so she probably believes I literally meant it.

  It’s another thing I’m going to have to go back and fix, that is if she lets me get near her at all. I’m determined as hell to see this through and prove to her that whatever it is she saw in me that first day isn’t wrong, but I’m walking a fine line. I remember her serial killer comment well and if I push her too hard, I’m only going to make her think I’m no better and that’s something I don’t want.

  Shit. Why does this girl get to me this way? She’s got a list of issues so long it would take me forever to read through it. The right thing to do would be to leave her alone, but just like I’ve always been an asshole, I’ve also been known to be a stubborn one too.

  “Did I really just see you walking with the retard?” I hear from behind me, not even needing to turn around to know who said it.

  Yeah, it was definitely time for the rumor mill to start. By lunch I’d hear that I was screwing her on the hood of my car. It’s something I definitely don’t want Isabelle getting wind of. If she hears it, then she’s going to think it started with me and I can’t let that happen.

  “Yeah, I was talking to her, so what?”

  “I was right about the two of you, wasn’t I? You do like her.”

  “It’s called being nice, jackass. You should try it sometime.” I answer back in response. There’s no way he’s goading me into saying something he’ll use against me later. He can kiss my ass if that’s what he’s after.

  “Maybe I should try it with her.”

  Even though I know he’s joking, I can feel my blood boiling the minute he says it. There’s no way in hell I’m letting him anywhere near her after all of the things he’s done. I might have been a part of it before but that’s done now. No one is going to hurt her again, not on my watch.

  “You even so much as think of pulling something on her, I will end you. Fact.”

  I don’t wait around for a response. As the final bell rings, I take off for the door. If I want to make things right then it has to start now. I need to talk to my first period teacher and get the okay to be let out early.

  I have somewhere I need to be at 11:15 and this time; nothing or no one is going to stop me from making sure it happens.

  Not even Isabelle herself.

  Chapter Seven

  Belle

  There isn’t a whole lot that I like about school. It’s no real secret that the only reason I’m even here at all is because of my mom. If she didn’t think it would be good for me, going through this the way I am, then I would be happier learning at home. She can’t afford that and even if she could, she already has to deal with me enough, I can’t imagine adding another six hours to it.

  Even a mom needs a break from her kid every once in awhile.

  For all of the things that I hate about school though, this is definitely not one of them.

  As soon as I enter the class after my altercation with Kayden, I’m not in the mood to do much but pull out a book and get lost in it for awhile. Anything that will take my mind off the way he seems to make me go haywire every time I’m around him.

  So it’s like Christmas for me when Ms. Taylor tells us that today is free writing day. Considering how hard it is for me to talk, this is definitely something I enjoy. It makes those notebooks my mom bought me useful, which until now, other than in my afternoon classes they just haven’t been.

  The only problem is, the assignment she gives us isn’t the type of thing I’m very good at. I have to talk to someone or at least talk to them in a letter. It should be easy considering I don’t actually have to open my mouth to do it, but trust me, it’s not. Writing to someone, whether you know their name or not, is not as easy as writing a story is. I don’t like talking about myself at all, so I have a feeling that what she wants from us, I’m just not going to be able to do.

  When she said free writing, I kind of hoped we could write stories. You know, ones where the girl, no matter how strange or different she is, always gets the guy in the end. The ones that no matter how similar some of the experiences might be to what you’re going through, it’s still obvious that its fiction so you don’t feel bothered at all. Sadly though, I don’t get my wish.

  I do the assignment and of course I give it in the way I’m expected to, but I don’t think I’ll get a very good grade on it.

  Free writing, even when I hate what I have to write, does make my day easier. It’s this kind of happy go lucky thinking I’m filled with as I make my way from the class. It’s only when I see whose leaning up against the lockers, with the same smile from earlier plastered across his face, that whatever happiness I was beginning to feel starts to fade.

  What’s he doing here? What does he want with me now?

  It had taken almost the entire class to get his voice out of my head and just when I think that it’s gone and I’ve escaped him, here he is, reminding me that no matter where I go, especially here in school, I will never truly escape him.

  When is he going to learn that whatever it is he wants from me, he’s just not going to get? With the amount of girls I’ve overheard talking about what they want to do to him, he’s got no shortage of people to give him the attention he obviously craves, so why is he here trying to talk to me?

  “You ready for lunch?”

  Excuse me—what?

  He can’t be serious right? There had been a part of me yesterday that was excited at the idea of him standing outside of my class like this. It even made me stick around waiting until I almost missed my chance to eat, but today it’s not at all the same. The excitement at seeing him here is gone and like earlier, all I want to do is get as far away from him
as I could.

  So that’s exactly what I do.

  I turn from the classroom, making sure to tear my eyes away from where he’s leaning and I start making my way down the hall toward the stairs. I don’t move fast enough to miss his reaction though.

  “Son of a bitch!”

  If I actually smiled for people to see, this would be one of the times I’d do it. Kayden Walker is an acknowledged asshole and he won’t get any argument from me, no matter how cute his eyes look when he smiles. The time for him to be waiting for me would have been yesterday. Today he’s too late.

  Let him see that coming.

  I start taking the stairs quickly, knowing that it can’t be long before he’s on my heels and making me face him, but by the time I get to my locker and take a look around me, I realize he’s nowhere in sight. What I expected him to do based on the way he reacted this morning when I got off the bus, he hadn’t done.

  Crap. I thought I was being so smart. Turns out again, I’m the one being played.

  Turning back to my locker, determined to get my lunch and make my way out to my normal spot, I don’t realize that anyone has come up behind me until I see the shadow of an arm stretch out over my head.

  Guess he found me after all. I think as I close the door and look up, expecting to see his very annoyed face looking back at me. It’s not him I see though as my eyes come face to face with the person invading my personal space. It’s someone even worse.

  Noticing what I’m sure is a shocked expression, he smiles at me and the minute it happens, I’m taken back to two days before and the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach returns.

  “Expecting someone else? Maybe, I don’t know, Kayden?”

  Keep it together Belle. Do not let him see how he’s getting to you. I repeat over and over in my head as he stares at me. I want to say something to him, but like usual, the words won’t come. I don’t entirely understand sarcasm but right now, I wish I did.