by Hart, Lane
Not that I’ve been doing much painting lately.
I’ve been too depressed.
And while picking up a paintbrush used to make me feel better, not even it could lift my spirits after I became an outcast and the most hated girl at school.
While I throw colors onto the long, horizontal canvas and blend them, my mind keeps going right back to my conversation with Royal.
Could he have been telling the truth about his dad setting up the SAT cheating?
It’s possible, but seems unlikely that a parent would do something so messed up.
How can I believe anything Royal says, especially when he tried to convince me that he had loved me when we were at camp? If he had, he wouldn’t have said those awful things about just wanting to sleep with me, and then going off with Claudia. And he wouldn’t have ignored me our entire junior year until the SAT blowup.
I have no clue if minutes or hours go by as I just keep painting and painting, losing myself in the colors and image that unfold before me.
“Holy cow, Hannah!” my mom eventually exclaims from the garage door, startling me.
“What?” I ask as I spin around to face her with my brush still in my hand.
“Your painting,” she says as she comes closer without taking her eyes off of it, making my stomach twist into a knot, because I don’t usually show her or my dad my work if it’s something personal, which this one is.
“It’s stupid,” I say on a sigh as I take a few steps back to take it all in, loving and hating it at the same time, but what else is new? “I’m probably going to burn it in the backyard tomorrow.”
“Burn it!” my mom gasps. “No, sweetie. This-this belongs in a gallery!”
“No one wants to see my amateur mess,” I say as I toss my paintbrush down on the plastic covered floor. No matter how much I work on a drawing or painting, they never feel good enough. There’s always something I could change, something I should try to do better. Sometimes it really sucks being a perfectionist.
“I think you underestimate yourself, Hannah. Don’t you have to submit an original work to Madison for their art scholarship?”
“Yeah. It’s due by the end of the year.”
“Well, why not this one?” Mom asks.
“I don’t know,” I tell her with a shrug. “I’ve got time to do something better, like a painting of the lake or a sunset…”
“Send Madison this one. I’m sure your lakes and sunsets are beautiful, but I doubt they’ll have such…emotion.”
“Emotion? Really?” I ask in surprise. “It’s not exactly a positive emotion. I was feeling hurt and angry.” Emotions just make an image look reckless and not carefully controlled with skill.
“Well, it’s still beautiful, so there’s a lot more to it than just the negativity. It’s a winner, that I’m certain of, sweetheart.”
“I’ll think about it,” I tell her.
“Good. And it’s late, close to midnight, and tomorrow’s a school day.”
“It’s almost midnight?” I ask in surprise. That means I’ve been down here working for hours without even noticing.
“Come on,” Mom says when she throws her arm around my shoulders, not even worried that I may get paint on her. “You need to get some rest.”
* * *
Royal
“Where the hell have you been?” my dad barks at me as soon as I come through the front door a little after midnight.
“Out.”
“Out where?”
“Like you really care?” I mutter.
“Your mother was worried,” he growls. “She’s been waiting up for you.”
“I didn’t ask her to do that.”
“Go apologize to her. Now!” he demands.
“No. I don’t have anything to apologize for. And you know what? If you want me gone so badly, maybe I’ll just go stay with Blake until graduation,” I respond. Now that his mom is gone because his dad kicked her out, I can start staying over at his place more. Maybe he and his dad Kurt would let me move in if I finally told them about the shit I have to deal with here…
When I turn around and start back to the door, my dad lunges toward me. He tackles me down to the kitchen floor, and then his fists are slamming into the back of my head and my sides. Once I stop fighting, because it hurts everywhere to move, the entire room spinning around me, it’s his dress shoes that take over, kicking me in the ribs, while I’m literally down, over and over again.
After the blows finally stop, my ears are ringing but I vaguely hear him say, “Try to move out before graduation and I’ll break both of your fucking legs!”
I’m not sure if he yells anything else, because my eyes close and I drift off to sleep.
Chapter Eighteen
Royal
The next morning, my mom is kind enough to shake my shoulders to wake me up from the floor so that I can get a shower and get ready for school.
Because I have to move so slowly because of the pain in my ribs, I’m late for first period.
Thankfully, nobody notices me walking slower than a ninety-year-old man until right before lunch when I’m confronted by Sophie.
“You look like you’re dragging today, Royal,” she remarks.
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yep,” I say as I put my books away in my locker, wincing when they rub against my ribs.
“You’re a horrible liar,” Sophie says before she tugs the side of my t-shirt up and gasps. “Royal!”
“It’s nothing,” I grumble as I step back from her reach so that she has to let go.
“That looks awful, and you’re obviously in pain!”
“I got home late last night,” I explain.
“So instead of grounding you, your dad beat you?” she whispers softly. “Why don’t you come stay with me or with Blake?”
“Not gonna happen,” I tell her, because my father may be a liar and a piece of shit; but when it comes to inflicting pain, he always backs up his threats. I really don’t want to spend the rest of my senior year in a wheelchair.
“I’m worried about you, Royal,” Sophie says when she walks with me to the cafeteria.
“I’m fine. Really.”
Lowering her voice, she says, “Psychiatrists are supposed to report child abuse.”
“I’m not a child, and trust me, turning him in would only make things worse.”
“If you say so,” she responds with a sigh as we go through the lunch line.
Now that Maddie and Aric have made up and she’s even moved in with him or something, Maddie and Hannah are eating with Aric at our table, which really pisses me off.
Therefore, Blake and I can either sit alone at the girls’ old loser table, or we can both suck it up and sit with Aric.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Blake comes up beside me and asks before I’ve made a decision.
“You’re not going to let him take over the table, are you? That’s like admitting that he wins,” I point out, not because I want to sit near Hannah but because it’s true.
“Screw that,” Blake says. “I hope sitting with him and his girl pisses him off.”
“That’s the spirit.”
“You’re not just saying that because you’re still trying to bang Hannah again, are you?”
“Nope. That ship has sailed, burned down, and sank to the bottom of the ocean,” I assure him.
“If you say so,” he mutters before we finally head over to our table. We leave a chair between the three of them and us, and then we dig into today’s meal – lasagna.
It’s harder than it should be to not glance down the table at Hannah, but somehow I manage.
“Who are those dudes?” Blake asks, nodding his head to the side of the cafeteria where a table is set up. Four guys in military uniforms are standing behind it.
“Probably recruiters.”
“They’re wasting their time with all these trust fund babies,” Blake chuckles. “Who in their right
mind would give up going to an Ivy League school to risk their life as a soldier?”
“I dunno,” I reply, even though I’m no longer a trust fund kid or Ivy League bound. My options are incredibly limited, something my best friend apparently hasn’t figured out after the cheating scandal.
For months, I’ve been trying to decide what I’m going to do after graduation to earn a living and keep a roof over my head. I’ve never had to fend for myself before, so I’m not sure where to start.
Joining the military is definitely a better option than going to work at some lame minimum wage job. Sure, there’s a chance I may die or lose a limb, but at least I would be doing something worthwhile. Something…good.
And whenever I think of doing good, it’s impossible not to think of Hannah and all her Mother Teresa bullshit charity.
There’s also the added benefit of proving my father wrong.
He served in the army for eight years and loves to tell me that I don’t have what it takes to serve my country like he did. Boot camp sucked this past summer, but I survived. All the physical activity was actually one of the best ways to help me cope with my rage.
So, when lunch is almost over, I tell Blake to go on to class without me, and then I go up and talk to the men in uniform to find out more about enlisting.
Chapter Nineteen
Hannah
Six months later…
“Hey, Hannah!”
I’m on my way to the parking lot after school, enjoying the perfect spring weather when someone calls my name.
Looking over my shoulder, I see that it’s actually Garrett. “Hey! How’s it going?” I ask him, surprised that he’s brave enough to talk to me on campus where everyone can see him without fear of Royal’s wrath.
“Good, I’m good,” he says as he jogs up beside me and shoves his hands in his khaki’s pants pockets while we keep walking to the parking lot. “Actually, I wanted to apologize to you.”
“Apologize? For what?” I ask since he’s never been anything but kind over the years, even if he wouldn’t speak to me after things hit the fan with Royal last spring. I can’t believe it’s been a full year since I was sentenced to high school purgatory. But I survived, and graduation is just three months away. Twelve short weeks. Eighty-four days. I’ve been counting them down since January.
“I’m sorry about not talking to you much lately,” Garrett says to me. “I shouldn’t have let Royal tell me I couldn’t hang out with you or anything when he marked you as enemy number one.”
“Oh, yeah, well, I understand,” I assure him. “Being friendless and unpopular sucks. At least you got his captain spot on the football team last fall.”
“Yeah, that was pretty cool,” he agrees. “But I’ve missed you, talking to you. I hope you’ll forgive me.”
“There’s nothing to forgive you for, Garrett. That’s all in the past and all on Royal for being a total jerk.”
“Yeah, that’s how I see him too, a big bully.”
“Right,” I agree, even though there’s a small part of me that wishes he would’ve shown back up on my balcony unannounced after the first time in the fall.
He hasn’t.
In fact, right after the homecoming dance, I would sometimes catch him looking at me. But lately, he pretends like I don’t exist, never glancing in my direction despite the fact that we sit at the same table during lunch every day.
“So, um, anyway, since we’re past all of that, would you consider going to prom with me?” Garrett asks.
“Prom? Really?” I ask in surprise since I had assumed I would be sitting home alone that night, bingeing Netflix and ice cream, missing one of the most important high school events.
“Yeah, prom. I know it’s two months away, but I wanted to ask you before someone else does. So, will you go with me?”
“What about Royal?” I blurt out. “I mean, aren’t you worried about him coming after you?”
“Screw him,” Garrett mutters. “I’m tired of letting him and the other guys tell me what I can or can’t do. Besides, high school is almost over. Whatever retaliation he enacts on me, it’ll be worth it to go to prom with the prettiest girl in the school.”
“Wow, um, thanks, I guess,” I say with a smile. It’s nice to have someone actually take a stand for me besides Maddie. “And yes, Garrett, I would love to go to prom with you.”
“That’s awesome,” he says with an enormous grin. “I can’t wait!”
“Me too,” I say, but it’s a lie, because for some reason, no matter how much I want prom to be full of making a lifetime of memories, I have a feeling it’s going to be a complete disaster.
* * *
Later that afternoon, all thoughts and worries about prom are forgotten.
“Hannah, you’ve got mail!” my dad says from my bedroom doorway.
“I do?”
“Yep. And it’s a big envelope.”
I squeal and jump off the bed to stand in front of him. “From where?”
“Let’s see here,” my dad says as he spins the white envelope around and around, squinting his eyes at it like he doesn’t know what it says. “It appears to be from a school called…Madison.”
“Madison!” I scream. “Give it to me!” I demand as I hold out my palm.
“Are you sure you want to open it right now? You don’t want to wait until your mom gets home?”
“She’ll understand!” I exclaim. “Hand it over, Dad!”
“All right. At least let me get my phone out and record it for her before you open it up,” he says with a sigh.
“Fine!” I agree, snatching the envelope from his fingers as he fidgets with his phone. I don’t wait for him to start recording before I rip into the paper, tearing off the edge to pull out the packet, yes, packet of documents!
“Read it out loud,” my dad encourages as my eyes skim the first page.
“Dear Miss Morgan, we’re pleased to offer you admission to the fall semester at Madison University!” I exclaim. “We’re also very excited to inform you that you have been chosen to receive the School of Art’s Betsy Bruce scholarship in the amount of twenty-five thousand dollars, renewable for all four years!”
My dad wraps me in a tight hug before I can read anything else. “Congratulations, sweetheart! You deserve it! We’re so proud of you.”
“Thank you,” I tell him as tears well up in my eyes, not only from getting my acceptance letter and scholarship but from hearing him say he’s proud of me. “I can’t wait to show Mom!”
Finally, I have something good to look forward to – the future. One without high school gossip or bullshit. College is going to be a fresh start; one I desperately need.
Chapter Twenty
Royal
“Why the hell is Big Red here?” I huff at Aric after Maddie shows up to dinner with him when it was supposed to be just me and him eating at the sports bar and watching baseball. I’ve been trying to get him alone, to talk to him about Collette for months now but haven’t been able to. Maybe this is a sign to put all of that shit in the past and finally forget it for good.
“Be nice,” Aric snaps as the hostess leads us to a high-top table and gives us menus. “She’s my girlfriend, and I happen to like having her around.”
“What about absence makes the heart grow fonder? You two could take a break from each other once in a while. I mean you live together and go to school together. Do you take showers and shits together too?”
“Don’t be crude, man, especially in front of my girl!” Aric huffs.
“Oh fuck off,” I say since Aric used to be the king of crude jokes when it was just me, him and Blake hanging out before he fell head over heels into an obsessed, obnoxious boyfriend. The last few months have been rocky, first with Blake sleeping with Aric’s sister Caroline after I sort of pushed them together at Blake’s birthday party, then Caroline announcing she was pregnant with Blake’s kid… Luckily, though, Aric and Blake have pretty much crushed their feud, and things are sort o
f back to normal with them. The only problem is that both of my best friends are so wrapped up in their own lives that I’ve been cast aside, left to deal with my dad’s fists and anger alone, other than Sophie’s surprisingly supportive friendship.
“Well, Royal, since you’re already in a foul mood, there’s something you should probably know,” Maddie says to me.
“What?” I ask.
“I just found out from Hannah that she got accepted to Madison…”
“So?” Why does she think I give a shit that Hannah got into her dream school? For months now, I’ve made it my mission in life to pretend Hannah Morgan doesn’t exist. Blake has given me a distraction since he has so much shit going on with having a kid on the way, considering putting it up for adoption and, of course, dealing with all the drama with his baby mama.
It doesn’t help that I feel somewhat guilty for being the one who brought Blake and Caroline together the night the baby was conceived. I really should’ve made sure my best friend had some rubbers ready before he popped his cherry with the older woman he had been crushing on for years.
Whoops.
“Oh, and Hannah’s going to prom with Garrett,” Maddie casually adds.
For a moment, I just stare at her and contemplate the two reactions I could have to that unexpected news flash. One, I could go Hulk smash all over the restaurant, breaking chairs and swinging from the chandeliers as I destroy everything in my path from a fit of rage. Or two, I could pretend I simply don’t give a shit.
“Why do you think I care about what that bitch is doing?” I ask gruffly, going with the second option, feigning disinterest.
“I didn’t think you would care, which is why I want Hannah and Garrett to ride in the limo with us…”