This door and I seemed to have a relationship lately, like I hoped it had some magical power to keep the world out. But it couldn’t—not when I opened it to talk to boys in the middle of the night.
###
I don’t know what I expected.
That I’d walk into school the next day and the whole system of jocks and goths and fuck bois and cheerleaders would be turned upside down? Everything would different? Just because I’d had an unforgettable middle-of-the-night rendezvous with Drake and blurred the lines between what we meant to each other, what our statuses were—prey and predator, predator and prey, girl who liked a boy, boy who wanted to be a better man.
Of course everything was exactly the same, specifically Sasha who kept drilling me about how it was going with Drake, our “target”.
Sasha pushed her peas around, staring in disgust at the lunch room’s main offering of the day. Slimy meatloaf, chunky mashed potatoes, gluey gravy. “Honestly, I could kill the person who took the last ginger salad. And how can the smoothie machines be broken? And the sushi delivery not arrived? Seriously. This is Salem prison food to poison the witches, forget the dramatic drowning.”
In her traditional dark makeup and clothes, sleek hair pushed behind her ears, I could see her getting accused of witchcraft. “You know,” Sasha continued, “that was all just a mess to oppress the female free spirit. Lord forbid we wanted to do something other than darn our husband’s socks and breastfeed. Real witches wouldn’t have died so easily either. Ridiculous.” She pushed her tray away.
“Back to better topics.” She waggled her eyebrows. “So. Drakey McSteamy-Pants. Did you guys talk last night? Does he seem excited about the date? You’ve been totally avoiding the topic.”
“How can I avoid it when every other word out of your mouth is his name?” I rolled my eyes, taking a bite of my sandwich—something decent because it was mom-made, not cafeteria-conjured.
Playing with her plastic fork, Sasha was quiet for a while. “You’re not falling for Drake, are you?”
“What, no. Of course not!” I sputtered, totally convincing. Not. “Look, I just don’t think I’m the kind of person who can play the revenge game. I told you from the beginning that I wasn’t comfortable and that if I did anything—”
“So… you’re out,” she said slowly.
After a long pause, I asked the only thing that mattered to me in that moment- “Do you hate me now?”
To my surprise, Sasha laughed abruptly, a hyena-style cackle that made the whole lunchroom turn towards us. I looked around, my cheeks growing hot. Everyone except Drake, who sat stoically eating the last ginger salad whilst the popular crowd around him was loud and obnoxious—though I didn’t point the salad out to Sasha who’d likely call it an act of war. I hadn’t seen him in class. He’d skipped I guess, despite saying he was going to attend like a regular high schooler.
Sasha snapped in my face, causing me to blink and refocus on her. “Earth to Tarryn. Girl, do you really think I’d put punishing penis boy over my Tay-tay?”
“No… Noooo,” I breathed out, eyes wide.
“Uh-uh,” she shook her head, “that was the deal, babe. Tay-tayyyyyyyyyyyyyy forever.”
“That was only if I didn’t keep you posted. I’m totally keeping you posted!”
“Sure, you kept me posted. Just like you’re not falling for resident bad boy.” She shrugged.
The bell rang and Sasha stood up. “See ya, Tay-tay.” She winked and I groaned.
Was it worth it? Being stuck with that stupid nickname? I could totally just hop right back on the revenge train. It wouldn’t be so hard to treat Drake like dirt.
“Tarryn!” Sasha’s voice shouted my name and my eyes were drawn to where she was stood at the exit to the cafeteria. “Love you, Tay-tayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy.” She shouted at the top of her lungs. I cringed, sinking down against the plastic chair.
Everyone left in the room laughed. I’m going to kill her, I thought as I hid my face against my hands.
“Walk you to class?” A shadow had fallen over the table. I smiled, expecting to see Drake standing over me. But it was Aiden instead. My smile faltered a little, and it bothered me how much I had wanted it to be my bully.
“Hey, your face looks nearly normal.”
“Well, I don’t know about normal, but it’s back to its typical proportions. I was hoping the fight would at least fix my slightly higher right eye.”
Peering at him, I shook my head and quirked my mouth. “Yeah, I think you’re stuck with that mutation. It’s a shame. You’re basically Quasimodo looking for love with a giant hump and a wonky eye.”
“Quasimodo?” Aiden lifted an eyebrow, looking confused. “Oh, Hunchback of Notre Dame? That Disney movie?”
Even if I lied to myself and pretended that Aiden was the guy I liked, the guy who’d talked to me on messenger, the lie would feel so hollow. He’s not Drake. “I mean, yeah. But from the book too.”
“Oh. It was a book first? Bet it’s good. I loved the movie as a kid.”
“The book’s almost always better than the movie,” I stood, shrugging into my backpack and picking up my lunch bag.
“I honestly don’t read a ton. Ask me anything about modern movies though. I’m your guy.” He tapped his head. “Library of useless cinematic factoids up here. As much as I want to be a lawyer, I know there’s going to be a hell of a lot of reading involved.”
“I imagine,” I said, still digesting the differences between Drake and Aiden.
We walked slowly, my eyes roving the cafeteria for Drake, but he was nowhere to be seen now. The silence with Aiden felt awkward today for whatever reason. Time for Tarryn to blab her mouth and fill the void. “So, I guess I really don’t know much about you.”
Aiden shot me a glance, looking nervous. Then he shrugged and nodded. “Yeah, I mean, most of what I said was Drake.
“Okay. Easy beginnings,” I said slowly. “You want to go to college? That’s why you agreed to Drake’s idea?”
“Yeah. Oh,” his face brightened. “I really do want to be a lawyer. That wasn’t a lie.”
“That’s good. I liked that about you. What about science stuff? Did you really go around reading research articles or…”
“That was Drake. He thought you’d like that.” Aiden’s expression strained a bit at the edges.
I chewed at my lip. Maybe I didn’t want to dissect all the lies. “Yeah, I mean. I read them for fun. I guess I’m a complete dork like that.”
“You’re not a dork. Maybe like thirty percent geek girl, but that’s cool.”
We reached class. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
“Look, I’m—”
“I swear to god if you try to apologize again, I’m going to scream.”
“Sorry, sorry,” he mumbled. “Have a good class then, Tarryn.”
“You too.” I walked in ahead of him, my gaze immediately searching the room and finding what I wanted. Golden-haired Drake. His eyes met mine and his face softened, but he didn’t smile. The seat next to Drake was empty still, which wasn’t typical since most girls clamored to take the spots around him. Maybe because he was here a little earlier than normal. I walked towards him and sat to his right. “You okay?” I whispered.
He turned his head. “Family shit,” was all he said before redirecting his attention back to the front of class. I pulled out my notebook and my colored pens and poised to write. I grinned when Drake spoke again, this time his voice a little less tragic. “Once a square, always a square.”
12.
D R A K E
Leaving Tarryn’s House
This wasn’t like Lane. Not at all.
What I felt for Tarryn was unlike anything I’d ever felt before. I mean, I’d thought the same about Lane. Still, different shorelines, same ocean. It was fucking scary to me this time around though. Like the ship had changed beneath me and I didn’t know how to Captain it.
I wanted to end whatever was happening with Tarr
yn; I needed to end it, but I couldn’t seem to walk away from her. I couldn’t seem to void my emotions. And tonight driving away from her place… The sun was rising, glinting off the neon green of my hood, and it actually felt like a new day. A new start in which I’d never been in love with a woman twice my age, never had that love ripped away, never had the possibility of a baby out in the world. Not that I wanted that damn responsibility. Hell, me as a father? The poor fucking kid. The parental example I’d had my entire life was wrecked.
Tarryn wanted the true me. Did I even know the true me anymore?
I’d been so wrapped up in ending my pain after Lane left… who was I back then? I was still the guy with a shit home life. That didn’t change. Money still didn’t make a marriage. Money still didn’t make good memories. Yet, somehow, I was optimistic about life before Lane. I had the capacity to open up to a person and be authentic.
Tarryn’s words had left a mass in my chest, large and choking. She wanted to see who I really was. I couldn’t even look in a goddamn mirror without feeling sick. The only thing that ever dulled the shit in my soul was a good round of mindless fucking.
She wanted me to be more.
Who was I before Lane?
Who was I after Lane?
All I could feel was the after…
###
Earlier that day… at the lake with Bradley and Dax
“Well, boys. I have to hand it to you. This is exactly what the hell I needed.”
“Leave it to us, Castleton. We’ve got the right stuff.” Bradley squirmed in the sunlight, eyes closed, body pressed against the floating dock. Dax was already higher than a goddamn kite. I worried about him swimming. He kept going underwater and taking a little too long to resurface.
“Everything’s fucking wrong, man,” I breathed out the words, then breathed in a deep drag of the grade A quality joint. Dax kept calling the weed ‘skunk’ and he sounded like a fucking idiot. Maybe I was anti-teenager here, but if a perfectly good name exists for something, then it was a waste of breath to keep renaming it. Kush. Grass. Ganja. Reefer. Ridiculous.
“We’re teenagers, things are always fucking wrong,” Bradley said lazily.
“Yeah, I guess.”
Water splashed across us then and Dax laughed like an idiot as he ducked back beneath the rippling lake. “Idiot,” Bradley mumbled. “I don’t know why we keep him around.”
“Because he’s our idiot,” I responded, rolling over on my stomach to sun my back. I couldn’t count the number of times I’d skipped with these fools, come here to the lake, and wasted away the school day.
“We’re idiots for claiming him,” he snorted. “How many times has he gotten us into trouble. The only one worse is Steve, but now he’s head-up in that goth chick’s cunt. One less problem.” Bradley sighed. “Hard to fucking believe it’s senior year. I’m not ready for college.”
“You guys are bringing me down.” Dax dragged himself up on the floating dock, water beading off of him. Once he was standing, he bent over a little and shook his head like a wet dog.
“Shit, man. Cut it out.” Bradley kicked out, catching Dax in the shin and sending him falling backwards into the water again.
“Hey!” Dax bobbed in the water, sputtering. “What the fuck was that about?”
“Stop being an asshole with the water.” Bradley pushed himself up, supporting himself on his elbows. “And maybe lay off the joint.”
In response, Dax swam forward and located the still-smoking joint stuck pointed up in between two wood deck boards. He lifted it with damp fingers and shoved it in his mouth, taking a long dramatic drag.
The two guys started bickering as the joint went limp with wetness.
“Alright, boys. The sunny day just got cloudy and you clowns have joked up the joint.” I stood. “Thanks for yanking me out of my shit mood. Though you’re backtracking me now. You two fight like an old couple. Get a damn room.”
I dived into the water before either could protest.
By the time I got to shore, they’d both realize I had the car.
Maybe if the swam fast enough, I wouldn’t leave them stranded. Maybe.
###
Earlier that day… at home with my father
“Why the hell aren’t you in school, Drake?” My father was standing in the kitchen when I opened the door from the garage. I hadn’t thought he’d be home already. He should still be at work, busting someone else’s balls. It was only one thirty. I would have stayed at the lake longer had I realized it was still so early.
“I skipped.” I shrugged, though there was a seed inside of me that wanted to say I was sorry, admit fault, try and be the kind of kid my dad could love. I used to want his approval, so fucking bad. All that changed though after her. It felt like an eon ago, but it was only… what? Sixteen months ago… God.
“You fucking what? Christ almighty, Drake. You really are goddamn bent on ruining your fucking life. I thought you’d pull it together after that… that teacher,” he snarled the last word, lip curling, “was out of your life.”
“Don’t talk about Lane!” I shouted, stomping towards him, hands balled into fists. “You have no right to talk about her, you bastard!”
I was too close to him. He cocked back his arm and it rocketed forward, his fist slamming me in the face. “Talk to me like that one more time, son. You think I’ve treated you badly? You think I did wrong by your perverted predatory teacher? She took the hush money. That was her goddamn choice.”
I refused to touch my face, refused to show him how much it hurt. “She took it because you threatened her. You blackmailed her. She wouldn’t have left otherwise.”
“And when the town found out she was pregnant with your fucking baby? What do you think would have happened to her? She wouldn’t have been just run out of town, Drake, she would have gone to fucking jail.”
“There were other ways to handle it,” I shouted, eyes searching the kitchen in desperation. My search was rewarded. Dad had his favorite scotch out on the counter next to the Glencairn whiskey glass he’d received as a gift after a brutal merger. I stalked over and grabbed the scotch. It felt good to slam the glass bottle down to the floor. It shattered and I waited for my father to rail at me, but he didn’t. It was worse for him not to respond, not to get even angrier. It made me feel deflated. He’d just hit me. Where was the fucking rage? I needed it to fuel my own fury.
“You were sixteen years old, Drake. You were a child. She was a predator. Don’t you get that?” My dad’s face was pale, all the color drained from it. He looked… pained.
“I loved her. I still love her. And what about the baby? I’ve got a fucking kid out there, Dad.” My voice broke saying the last sentence. It hurt to think about Lane; it was impossible to think about her being pregnant. I tried to avoid the memories. I tried to avoid the thoughts of where she was now, what she was doing… did the kid have my eyes?
“That’s not something you need to worry about.” Dad moved away from me, walking towards his office. He didn’t ask me to follow him, but I felt compelled to. My mouth was dry, my heart thumping erratically. I felt sick to my stomach.
Dad never wanted to talk about Lane, no matter how hard I pushed. I didn’t know what had changed today. What dam had broken inside him to make him willing now.
“I thought if I just ignored this, you’d get over it. A teen doesn’t fall in love irrevocably. A teen is changeable. You got manipulated. Fucked someone who… who deserves to be in jail, frankly. Maybe that’s what I should have let happen to her. But she was pregnant. And I thought that… I thought that no grandchild of mine should end up born in jail and raised by a goddamn child abuser.” He walked behind his desk, pulling a key from his pocket and unlocking his middle drawer. I don’t know what I expected him to pull out…
A small stack of letters tied with a red ribbon wasn’t one of the options running through my head though.
“Part of the payoff meant she had to write me and keep me informe
d about the pregnancy. She had the choice of giving us the baby when the time came, or taking child support in exchange for private schools, updates, and… a say in how he or she was raised. I doubted she’d let us adopt the child, but then it became a moot point.” My dad was standing in front of me now, holding the stack of crinkled letters out to me.
I knew the second I saw the penmanship of the addresses that they were from Lane.
“These are all from her?” I asked quietly, the void in my chest filling with an aching, tragic fog of disbelief.
“Yes. Read them. Maybe afterwards, you won’t think so badly of your old man.”
I took the letters, hands shaking. “I don’t care what these say.” I wanted to speak with conviction, but I just sounded sad.
“Fine. Don’t read them. Or do read them. I’ve said my piece. I’ve given you the letters.” He sighed, and I’d never seen my old man looking so busted-up. “I’ve got to go back to work. I just came home to pick up some files. Tomorrow, you go to school. No skipping. Non-negotiable. I’ll cut off your cards, your account access. I’ll change your trust fund to thirty with the stipulation that you’ve graduated college and taken a fulltime position with a company I approve.” He put his hand on my shoulder and I tried not to flinch away, but I did. “I’m done, Drake.” He looked me in the face, his eyes tightening. “I’m sorry I hit you. More sorry than you can know.”
“It’s the Castleton temper,” I mumbled. “At least you know I got that honestly.”
My dad sighed. “I wish that wasn’t the only thing you inherited from me.”
He left the room, leaving me alone and staring at the letters. His threats didn’t mean anything. He could cut off my accounts, but he couldn’t dick with the trust fund, not without my grandmother’s approval. Maybe it was time to give the old bird a visit. She always took my side. Always.
Brat: A High School Bully Romance (The King of Castleton High Book 2) Page 9