by Kai Juniper
"Kristen."
"Wait here," he says, walking to the entry.
I remain in the living room but walk over to where I can hear them talking.
"What are you doing here, Kristen?" Jackson says. "I told you not to come over here."
"I had to," she says, sniffling. "I had nowhere else to go."
"Kristen, I told you, we can't keep doing this. I'm with Rumor now and it isn't fair to her to—"
"This isn't about her!" she yells. "It's about HIM! He attacked me! Just now! It's why I left." She hiccups a breath. "I didn't know what to do. I've never seen him like that."
She starts crying. Breathy sobs that echo in the open entryway.
She's a good actor. I'll give her that.
"Attacked you how?" Jackson says, sounding doubtful. It's a sign he believes me, at least a little. "He went in your room again?"
"No. It wasn't like that tonight. It was different. He got angry and..." She pauses. "He tried to strangle me."
"And you got away? The guy's twice your size."
"I shoved him and kicked him in the balls!" she screams. "Why are you acting like you don't believe me? I told you what he's like. He's a monster!"
"I don't see any marks on your neck."
"Right here. Look."
It gets quiet, then I hear Jackson sigh. "Go in my bathroom. I have stuff in there you can put on it.”
Her heels click on the floor as she walks to his room.
Jackson returns to the living room. "I'm going to let her stay."
"Are you serious?" I race up to him. "Why are you letting her stay? She's lying. She made it all up."
He shakes his head. "The marks were on her neck. When she moved her hair I could see them."
"She probably made them herself."
"I don't see how she could've. Someone else would've had to do it. Rumor, I'm sorry but I don't feel right sending her back there if Steven really did this."
"Isn't her mom home?"
"She went to her place in LA for the night. She might stay there all week."
"Meaning Kristen will be staying HERE?" I huff. "I can't believe this. You think I made it up, don't you?"
"No." He holds my hands and leans down to me. "You heard me telling her to leave. But then I saw those marks on her neck. If I thought they were fake, I would've kicked her out."
"I'm leaving," I say, yanking away from him and heading to the back door.
He comes around in front of me. "Rumor, stop. You don't have to go."
I look at him. "Jackson, I really need you to think about this and make a decision."
"I'm trying to get her out of my life. I'm almost there. I just need more time to figure out what's going on."
"What's going on is she's lying to you. Manipulating you."
"I know she's lied to me in the past, but I don't think she is tonight. She looked scared. Really scared, not like she was faking it. Something happened tonight. Something bad."
Do I believe him and let it go? I don't trust Kristen, but I trust Jackson. He tried to kick her out but his concern for her safety changed his mind. Should I get mad and punish him for that, or believe that he's doing what he truly feels is right?
"Rumor, just stay," he says, squeezing my hand. "She'll be in the guest room. You can pretend she's not even here."
I shake my head. "I need to go home. I have my own stuff to figure out."
He looks me in the eye. "Before you go, I need to finish what I was going to tell you. The reason I had to come see you tonight."
"To apologize? You already did that."
"That wasn't everything. I wanted to tell you something else. But maybe I should wait. This isn't a good time. I don't want you thinking I'm only saying this because—"
"Jackson, just tell me. What is it?"
He pauses. "I wanted to tell you that…” He looks down, then back up at me. "That I love you."
Chapter Twenty-Five
I laugh, although I have no idea why.
"Is that funny?" Jackson says, sounding concerned.
"No." I hug him.
"Then why are you laughing?"
"I don't know. I'm exhausted and kind of a mess right now so it's hard to say." I pull back. "Or maybe it's because you make me really happy and because..." I pause. "Because I love you too."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes! You're not supposed to question it."
"You questioned it by laughing," he says, smiling.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to."
He looks me in the eye. "I realized after you ran off today how much you mean to me. Seeing you leave made me panic, thinking you might never come back. I realized I might've just lost the only person I love. That's why I had to come find you."
I reach up and kiss him. "I thought you were going to break up with me."
"Break up with you?" he says like I'm crazy. "I love you."
"Yeah, well, I didn't know that an hour ago." I kiss him again. "I'm going to go." I smile. "Sorry I laughed."
"Make it up to me later?"
"If you ever get rid of your roommate," I say, looking back toward where Kristen went.
"I will. I promise." He kisses me. "I want this to end as much as you do. Just a little more time, okay?"
I nod.
"You want me to walk you back?"
"No, I'm okay."
He hugs me, holding me a long time before finally letting me go. "I love you."
"I love you too."
Walking back, my mind replays that phone call from my dad. I feel better after seeing Jackson, especially knowing he loves me, but I still have that anxious, uneasy feeling knowing my whole life has been a lie. Knowing the man I'm living with, the man I hate, is my father.
The next morning, Jackson calls me before school saying Kristen stayed in the guest room last night but was gone when he woke up.
When I get to school, she's not in Lit class. I start to worry that maybe she really was telling the truth when I hear that Principal Edwards isn't there either. What if something happened when Kristen went home this morning?
I'm still not sure I believe her. I can't see Principal Edwards getting angry enough to hurt her. He always seems so calm and collected.
At lunch, Kristen shows up at the table, smiling and not looking the least bit upset. If she was really strangled last night, why would she be smiling like that? And where are the marks on her neck? Jackson said he saw them but I don't see anything, and it doesn't look like she's covered them in makeup.
"Boys," she says, sitting next to Kade.
"Where were you this morning?" he asks.
"Doctor's appointment." She hands him a bottled coffee drink. "Open it please."
"You're drinking something with sugar?" he asks, handing her back the bottle.
"I'm drinking it for the caffeine. I didn't get much sleep last night."
Miles is across from her and smiles. "Who's the guy?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?" she says, smiling back.
Braden shows up, sitting down and shoving the table so hard it almost spills everyone's drink.
"What the hell, man?" Wyatt says, wiping off his white button-up shirt which got splattered with a red sports drink.
"I just got questioned by the cops," Braden says. "And you're worried about your damn shirt?"
"The cops were here?" Miles asks. "At school?"
"I was at the police station." Braden shakes his head. "I'm so fucking sick of this. She's dead. Move on."
"What'd they ask you?" Wyatt says.
"Same shit as before."
"I thought they had new evidence," Kade says.
"I never said that." Braden glances at me, then back at Kade. "Where'd you hear about new evidence?"
"From me," Wyatt mutters.
Braden gets up and leans over the table toward Wyatt. "And where'd YOU hear it?"
"From my dad. He heard it from the chief of police. They're friends."
Braden huffs and sits back in his chair. "I'm gonna sue t
hat fucking asshole. He can't be giving out information about a case. That's private."
"He didn't say what the evidence was or who was involved," Wyatt says.
"Doesn't fucking matter. Once that shit gets out, the whole damn town will be back to thinking I did it."
"Or Novak," Dante says before stuffing his face with a forkful of spaghetti. Lunch just started and he's already on his second plate.
"They haven't even fucking talked to Novak," Braden says.
"How do you know?" Kristen says as she casually inspects the ends of her hair.
He stares at her. "They've questioned him?"
She shrugs. "Maybe."
He shoves her hand away from her hair. "Have they or haven't they?"
She gets in his face. "Don't you EVER touch me like that again!"
If she gets that upset about Braden touching her, there's no way she'd let her stepdad strangle her. Unless she's afraid of him. But I've heard her talking back to him, even yelling at him, so it doesn't seem like she's afraid of him.
Braden sighs. "Did they talk to him or not?"
"He hired lawyers." She gets up. "That's all I know."
"That doesn't prove anything," Braden mutters.
Kristen walks off, heading out of the cafeteria.
"I need to go," I say, hurrying up from the table.
"You just got here," Dante says.
"I know but I have to study before my next class. Ms. Pruitt keeps calling on me and I never have the answer."
It's an excuse to leave but also true. Ms. Pruitt is determined to prove I don't belong here by quizzing me in front of the class, knowing I don't have the answer. I'm sure I'll flunk that class.
Leaving the cafeteria, I search the hall for Kristen but don't see her anywhere. I go in the girls' bathroom and see her at the mirror, smiling at her reflection as she messes with her hair.
"Great performance last night," I say, going up to her.
She turns to me. "I don't know what you're talking about."
I step closer, getting a better look at her neck.
"If he did it, where's the marks?"
Her hand goes to her neck. "He told you?"
"I was there last night. I was in the other room." I lean down and check under the stalls to make sure we're alone. I rise back up, looking her in the eye. "Tell me the truth. Did he really try to hurt you or are you making it up?"
"You think I'm going to confide in YOU?" She huffs and turns back to the mirror. "Go back to the boys. Oh, and if you go to the party Friday night, watch your drink." Her lips turn up as she inspects her eyebrows in the mirror. "The boys have a bet going. The first to sleep with you wins."
"They told you that?"
"I overheard them talking in class. They're too lazy to put the work into trying to get you to sleep with them so they'll drop something in your drink like they do with every other girl who dismisses them. Even Braden's in on it." She laughs. "He's so damn twisted. I love the guy but sleeping with your cousin? That's taking it a bit too far."
It's even more twisted than she thinks. Because I'm not his cousin. I'm his half sister. And he kissed me! Now I feel sick.
"I'm not going to the party," I say, watching as she puts her lipstick on. "And I'm not here to talk about the guys. I'm here to talk about you. And what I saw."
She turns to face me, smirking with her pretty pink lips. "And what did you see?"
"You." My eyes lock on hers. "Bent over a desk. In the English classroom."
She laughs and flips her hair, turning back to the mirror. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"I saw you with Principal Edwards. You can deny it all you want but I know what I saw. And what I heard."
She turns to me. "You don't know anything. I'm disgusted you'd even say something like that."
I lower my voice. "He didn't force himself on you so why are you telling Jackson that? Why are you involving him in this? If you want to be with your stepdad, then be with him. But leave Jackson out of it."
She leans down to my face, her eyes narrowed. "You're never going to have him. Jackson is mine." She rises back up, a smile creeping up her face. "Oh, and I do have marks." She moves her hair aside and shows me her neck. I see a faint pink line barely visible through her makeup.
"He really did that?" I ask, feeling guilty for doubting her. Why isn't she upset about this? Last night she was hysterical and now she's acting like it's no big deal. "Kristen, you need to go to the police. You can't let him hurt you like that."
She lets out a laugh. "When you're with a man, you'll understand."
"I don't want to be with a man who strangles me and neither should you."
She leans down to my ear and whispers. "Pleasure and pain. Try it sometime."
A girl comes in the bathroom and Kristen goes around me and leaves.
What was she telling me? That the marks on her neck were intentional? Like some kind of sex thing?
Why is she doing this? Why is she telling Jackson one thing and me another? Is it just to get Jackson's sympathy? Why does she want Jackson when she's already doing it with Principal Edwards? What is she up to?
I arrive at English class right as the bell rings. As I take my seat in the back, Ms. Pruitt is already starting her lecture. I'm not even listening. My mind is still on Kristen, trying to figure out what she's up to and why.
"Ms. Halliway," Ms. Pruitt says, interrupting my thoughts. I look up and see her nose in the air, peering at me through her wire-rimmed glasses.
"Yes," I mumble, sitting up straight.
"Please identify and correct the dangling participle in this example." Ms. Pruitt points to the board.
Everyone turns and looks at me. They know I don't have the answer. I never do, and Ms. Pruitt still calls on me.
"I don't know what a dangling participle is," I say, because I honestly don't. I've seen it in the book but couldn't tell you what it means.
Ms. Pruitt sighs. "Anyone else?"
A girl in the front row who always has the answers shoots her hand up. "I do! I know what it is!"
She gives the answer like she's memorized it from the book.
"Very good, Ms. Shaffer," Ms. Pruitt says, then her eyes go back to me. "Ms. Halliway, I'll need to see you after class."
Is she serious? I'm in trouble because I didn't answer a question?
Class drags on for ten more minutes and when the bell rings, everyone leaves while I remain in my seat.
Ms. Pruitt shuts the door.
"I'm going to be late for my next class," I tell her.
"I'll write you a note." She sits at her desk. "Come up here, please."
Grabbing my backpack, I get up and go to the front. "What is it?"
"I'm concerned you're falling behind. You didn't pass the last two quizzes."
"I have a lot going on."
Her brows rise. "At home?"
"I'd rather not get into it."
"Does this have to do with a young man?"
"No," I say, wondering why she'd ask that. "I'm not dating anyone."
She nods, folding her hands and placing them on the desk. "I often find boys are the reason girls aren't achieving in school."
"That's not why I didn't know the answer today. I just didn't study enough."
"Ms. Halliway, what are your plans for after graduation?"
"I don't have any. I'll probably move back to New York and get a job."
"You have no desire to attend college?"
"If I can't pass high school English I don't think I'll make it at college."
"Perhaps you could get a tutor. I'd be willing to assist you if you'd put in the effort. We could meet after school. I stay until five."
"I can't. I have to ride home with Trystan."
She stands up, facing me, her arms folded. "Ms. Halliway, this is not just a class. This is your life. Your future. You're a smart girl with a great deal of potential but you're choosing to do nothing. Why is that?"
She thinks I'm smart?
And have potential? I thought she hated me. Is she being sarcastic? I can't tell if she's complimenting me or putting me down.
"I'm not choosing to do nothing," I tell her. "I'm just not interested in school."
"That's a shame," she says as she sits down. She picks up a pen and begins grading a quiz, marking it up in red.
"Can I leave now?" I ask.
"Go ahead, Ms. Halliwell."
As I'm walking out, I hear her talking again. "There are people who pretend to have greatness and those who actually have it. The latter tend to get looked over because the pretenders get in their way."
When I look back at her, her head is down as she marks up someone's quiz.
I leave, confused by what just happened. Was she saying I have greatness? ME? I'm the worst student in the entire school. Was she just saying that to get me to study more? To get my grades up? That has to be it. Someone probably told her to say that to motivate me to do better. Probably Ms. Adams. I'm supposed to meet with her tomorrow but Brock told me to cancel our session and tell her I have a new counselor.
After class ends for the day, I text Trystan telling him to wait for me, then hurry to the counselor's office.
"Ms. Adams?" I say, glancing in the room. She's not there. She might've snuck out the back. I think she goes out there to smoke. Just outside the door is a dumpster surrounded by a small white fence where Ms. Adams can hide and smoke without anyone seeing her. She tries to cover the smell with perfume but I can still smell it on her.
I open the door to see if she's out there. I don't see her but I hear someone talking. It's Kristen. She's yelling.
"I'm telling you she knows! She saw us!"
"Keep your damn voice down," a man says. It sounds like Principal Edwards but it's hard to tell because he's talking so low. "You're overreacting. Even if she told someone, nobody would believe her. She doesn't have proof. The proof would've been if you'd—"
"Stop!" she yells. "It's over. We said we wouldn't talk about it."
"Go inside. You need to get home. Your mother is back and waiting to take you shopping."
"My mother can go to hell! You better not be doing anything with her!"
"Kristen, she's my wife. You have to understand—"
"You bastard!" she yells as something slams against the dumpster, making a loud noise. "How could you do that to me?"