“Joss.”
He’d only spoken my name for goodness sake, but the whisper went straight to my coronary artery and pinged.
He leaned forward and kissed me softly. “I’m sorry I hurt you.” He pulled me close, my head against his chest, the measured thump of his heartbeat reassuring against my ear.
I spent hours wondering what it would be like to be in his arms again. One word, heavenly.
The fear of melting back into him blinded me, and I pulled away. “Can I ask you a question?” I knew of one sure way to put the brakes on all the lovey-dovey feelings surging through my veins, the only usable mechanism in my arsenal, anger. “Why didn’t you fight for us?” He called one time, trying to explain, and he never tried again. The last time I saw him before this impromptu trip back to town was at our divorce hearing. He arrived with Danielle. I clenched my fist one more time against the memory. My mind spun with images of their frenzied fondling against the pool table and anger pulsed in my veins. “You gave up and got the hell out of town before the ink even dried on the divorce papers.”
“Simon told me to give you time and let you cool down.”
My face must have changed with my mood, as his voice dropped to one less confident and more leery.
“I am guessing you haven’t cooled down yet?”
I shot him a narrowed eye look.
“You made it clear you were through with me. You didn’t want me anymore. You broke me, Joss.”
“So you flaunted Danielle in my face to get even with me.” Prosecuting attorneys couldn’t inject such accusation into their tones.
“I wanted her to talk to you and explain what happened that night. I didn’t know she was going to shove her tongue down my throat in the courtroom.”
Oh good… another fun memory. Somehow, over time, I managed to block that particular detail from my consciousness. My blood boiled in my ears. “And that seemed like a good idea to you? To bring the one girl I’ve hated my entire life so she could give me the play by play of your affair? Unbelievable.” I threw my hands up.
“Well, not when you say it like that!” His voice boomed through the air. “And it was not an affair!”
“Would you please explain to me why the hell I invited you here?” Hurt pinched his face before he found the wherewithal to cover it, and remorse turned to stone in my stomach. I lowered my gaze, looking away, hiding behind the veil of my hair.
“I don’t know, but I wish I would have stayed home.”
My head snapped up, meeting his angry gaze. His tone of voice added to the list of things adding fuel to my fire. “You don’t get to talk to me like that. You did me wrong, pal, not the other way around.”
“Jeeze, Joss, how long do you plan to punish me for it?”
“Punish you? Do you have any idea--” I broke off, not willing to share exactly how his unexpected betrayal devastated my life. “How long did you promise to love, honor, cherish, and keep it in your pants with everyone but me?”
“I kept it in my pants. Hell, you weren’t even giving it to me at the end.” He shook with anger. “The women after our divorce meant nothing compared to you.”
Oh, yippee. Now I had the implication of all the nameless, faceless women I imagined he'd slept with during our time apart to cuddle up with that night. Because of his over-average good looks, his raw sexuality, and the fact that he could charm the fur off a grizzly bear, I knew he wouldn’t have spent much time alone. Damn it anyway. “But Danielle meant enough to cheat on me.” We just took a downward spiral.
“I kissed her. That isn’t cheating.”
By my definition, it counted.
“Would it be cheating if I kissed another guy?” His eyebrows drew together, and I knew I scored a point with my words. “Kissing is foreplay, Einstein. Foreplay leads to sex, and sex is cheating. Maybe on a technicality you might be off the hook for sticking it in, but if I hadn’t walked in when I did, there is no telling what would have happened.” I stalked to the door, flung it open, and whispered, “Go home, Keaton.”
He stood up quickly, his aches and pains a distant memory, and stomped out.
I plopped down on the sofa. What had I been thinking? Three years after the fact, the memory of the heartache loomed as vivid as the incident itself. Feelings of anger and embarrassment that I let him…no, invited him back into my life, my house, and would have gladly taken him to my bed, surged through my veins. I clutched a pillow to my chest and pondered our relationship from every angle.
Maybe knowing him since eighth grade went against us. We knew too much about each other, what buttons to push, what words hurt worst. Maybe Mr. College Education thought of me as beneath him. He’d never treated me that way, instead acting supportive when his mother kicked me out of school. Of all the people in my life, only Keaton and Simon acted like it didn’t matter.
The irony of the whole situation brought a smile to my face. His mother, the usually angry, sour-faced principal of our school kicked me out without a second thought. Now, I’d given Keaton the boot, again. Of course, I would have bet any money or possession I owned that Sarah Shaw never felt this bad about what she’d done to me.
Chapter 10
Past January - Age 18
The rules in private school followed biblical and moral codes, encompassing precisely written guidelines, which essentially meant nothing in the grand scheme of life. However, Sarah Shaw used them faithfully to rule her tiny kingdom. At least, I thought they meant nothing until five months before graduation. Five months until I could say good-bye to my years behind the high stone walls that held me prisoner every day until detention let out.
When we returned to school from our Christmas break, the teachers came in ready to corral their charges back into the learning mindset. Unfortunately, the students didn’t share their enthusiasm, and detention slips were awarded like belated Christmas cards. I got a total of four in the first day.
I served one during my lunch hour and another after school. Having finished my homework during the after school period, I tossed my books into my locker, grabbed the outfit I brought with me, and headed off to the bathroom. Since Mom left three days earlier with her new boyfriend on a ski trip to Colorado, no one cared what time I came home. So, I wasted some time checking my hair and makeup, changing into my street clothes, and thoroughly washing my hands.
By the time I re-entered the hallway, the lights had been shut off and the building locked. Holy crap. Ironic. Hmm. What to do, what to do?
I strolled into the administration office, planning only to call my brother, but caught a glimpse of the file cabinet. Unable to resist taking a peek at my file, I eyed the sleek silver tower of information. I took three steps slowly forward, then closed the distance with a few stuttering skips of my feet. The metal handle was cool under my fingers as I jerked it open, thinking it would be heavy. The entire thing came out in my hand, and student files rained down around me. “Oh, crap.”
A couple thousand pieces of paper fluttered through the air, coming to rest on the tan Berber carpet as panic welled up inside me. “Oh crap. Oh crap. Oh holy crap.” The drawer crashed to the floor; the sound of metal on concrete bounced off the walls despite the carpet. Stomach rolling, heart pounding with fear, I backed away. I didn’t bother calling Simon, but opened the office window and crawled out, speeding across lawns, trampling snowmen, and blindly plowing through piles shoveled off the road.
Slamming the front door behind me, I headed straight to my room and sat up all night waiting for the police to come knocking. Huddled against the headboard, fear pitted in my stomach. My phone rang all evening long, but I ignored it and instead hugged my knees to my chest. Evening faded to night, then night into morning, and still I sat paralyzed, unable to move until Simon knocked on my door as my “it’s time for school” alarm clock.
I didn’t bother with my hair, or accessories, and barely remembered to brush my teeth before Simon ushered me out to his car.
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br /> We arrived at school right around our normal time. When I passed by the large windows of the administration office, Ms. Sandalman, our school secretary, crouched on her hands and knees, snatching papers off the floor.
I hurried past to my locker and trembled as I tried working the combination lock. Keaton tapped my shoulder and I jumped, my hand spinning the dial too far left.
“Hey.” He dropped a quick kiss on my lips.
“Hi.” Being around him set off a whole different kind of nerves.
“I tried to call you yesterday after school.” He grinned. “Detention?”
Not trusting myself to speak for fear of blurting out the entire story, I nodded. I spent one half of the previous night waiting for the police to come take me away. When I finally talked myself out of worrying about prison, the idea of school punishments kept me awake the rest of the night.
Mr. Mossi, the audio visual teacher, jogged past me toward the office, and my heart sank. I’d been in the office enough to know about the security system, but had forgotten it in my hurry to escape. Of course they would have the footage. My stomach churned, and my heart hammered against my ribs. I looked down to make sure my shirt hid it.
“Are you okay?”
I smiled as best I could and slammed my locker shut. “I feel a little sick.”
“Do you need to go home?” A look of concern I would normally have played up to washed over his handsome face.
When Mrs. Shaw, Keaton’s mother and our school principal, stomped out of her office and headed in my direction, I whispered, “Don’t worry. I think she’s probably going to take care of that.”
“Hey, Mom.”
She’d dressed all in business black, from her pants suit and jacket to her angry eyes. “Get to class, Keaton.” She barked the order at him, then grabbed my arm. “You! Come with me.”
“Jesus, Mom!” Keaton stepped forward to protest the brute force she used to drag me away from him and toward her office.
“To class, Keaton.” She bellowed the command over her shoulder, then hauled me through the outer door and into the inner office where she conducted her own administrative duties, specifically weekly conferences with me and my mother.
She clomped to her desk and plopped in her massive leather chair.
I took a seat in front of her desk.
“Miss Hunter, I did not ask you to be seated.”
I shrugged. “That’s okay. No big deal.” I could be gracious.
She ignored my sass with a frown tightening the lines around her mouth and eyes. “Do you know why I’ve called you in here?”
I looked her up and down. “Clothing advice? I mean, brown shoes with a black suit?” I clucked my tongue. Somehow, though, I doubted turning her into a cover girl would help my cause any more than my smart mouth.
Her frown deepened. “Oh, Jocelyn.”
My name blew out on a sad sigh as she shook her head.
“I called you in here because we have video footage of you entering the office and vandalizing school property. I’m giving you this one opportunity to explain yourself. I advise you not to waste it.”
I tilted my head from one side to the other, popping my neck. “Okay. Here’s what happened. I got out of detention and went to the bathroom to change. When I came out, the door was locked with that big chain, and of course I don’t have a key, and you always say your office door is always open. So, honestly, this is kind of your fault as much as mine. Seriously. It’s not prison. What do we need padlocks and chains for anyway?”
She rolled her eyes at me.
“So, I came into use Ms. Sandalman’s phone, but there’s a tile coming loose or something under the carpet, and it made me stumble. The only thing that saved me from falling, and possibly breaking my arm or something, was that drawer. But then, it pulled right out in my hand, and the files went flying everywhere. I didn’t know what to do, so I left.” I’d almost spoken the truth, as close as I would ever get anyway.
She closed her eyes and murmured. “Jocelyn, we both know there is no loose tile, and you didn’t stumble.” She smiled. “We have the video footage. Lying to me only makes matters worse for you.” She gathered a pile of papers and arranged them neatly, presumably to busy her hands to keep from choking me. “Wait with Ms. Sandalman while I call your mother.”
“Can’t I go to class? Big math test second hour. And trust me; you don’t want me to miss it. If I don’t pass that test, I won’t graduate, and we’ll be stuck together for another year.”
“Out, Jocelyn.” She picked up her phone and dialed as I walked to the door. “Yes, I’m calling about Jocelyn.”
I leaned away from her door, almost sure if I listened closely enough I would hear my mother shouting all the way from Aspen.
Of course, my mother had left her emergency contact number with the school. I reached my head back inside her office. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry.”
A sardonic smile turned her lips. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Somehow, I didn’t believe her, and my heart sank.
It took an eternity for the call with my mother to end, and Mrs. Shaw to summon my return to her office. This time she motioned for me to sit in front of her desk.
“Jocelyn, I spoke with your mother, and she assured me that there was no need to contact the proper authorities. I also spoke to our superintendent, and we decided not to involve the police.”
Phew.
“Ms. Sandalman will escort you to your locker where you may gather your personal belongings, and your brother is going to drive you home. You are to return any school property you may have at home with your brother. For everyone’s sake, we think it best that you not return to school grounds.” When I opened my mouth to speak, she continued. “We may not be as lenient next time.”
Thrown out of school? Oh, holy crap. My mother might actually blow a vein over this one. I swallowed back a batch of tears with a defiant shake of my head. Mrs. Shaw would never get to see me cry. Not over this, or her pathetic school.
“Perhaps public school would better serve your special behavior issues.”
As I stood to leave, she said, “Jocelyn, I would also like for you to stay away from Keaton. He has a bright future, and I don’t think he will benefit from spending time with someone like you.” That stung, and no amount of rebellion I could call on would stop the tears.
I flung her office door open and stomped to my locker. Whatever didn’t belong to me got tossed over my shoulder to the floor. In the midst of a full-on sob, I turned when Simon called out my name, his own fear evident in his tone.
As my tantrum grew louder, his steps quickened into a full jog. “What’s wrong?”
“I got kicked out of school.” I detailed the previous day’s events as he stood rubbing my back. He wrapped his arms around me, running a hand down my hair, then pushed me back and tilted my chin up so I could look into his eyes.
“It’s okay, Joss. Mom’ll fight it.” He had such faith our mother would care about me the way she did him. For him, she would have moved the heavens down to Earth. For me, not so much.
“No, she won’t.” I sniffled. “She’s just glad I’m not being arrested.”
“Why did they call me to the office?” It wouldn’t be the first time I'd drug him into misadventure, and his face pinched in worry.
“They’re going to tell you to bring me home.” He nodded and turned down the hall to Mrs. Shaw’s office.
When he returned, Ms. Sandalman followed me out to the front landing, then waited while Simon pulled the car around. I climbed in and we sped away.
By the time we walked in the front door, the answering machine light blinked the number eleven, and the phone jingled as I passed.
I ignored it, plopping on the sofa and assuming a swoon pose, so Simon answered. “Hi, Mom.” He rolled his eyes. “Yes, she’s home now.” He shook the receiver out in front of him and narrowed his eyes at me. “Go easy, Mom
. She’s upset.” He went silent for a moment. “…but she honestly didn’t mean for this to happen. It was an accident.”
I could hear my mother’s screeching yodel from across the room. He approached and handed me the cordless receiver.
“Do not start with me, Mother. I’m not in the mood,” I snapped into the phone, not interested in hearing any of her crap.
“Young lady, you have until Friday when I get home to find a job.” Her voice dipped, as though she needed all of her strength not to crawl through the phone and smack me in the head with it.
“What about school?”
“Oh, you had your chance at school, missy, and you blew that. It’s time you see what the real world is like.”
Tim’s muffled voice fed her lines in the background. I hated the bastard anyway, and this only fueled my fury.
“And you’re going to pay me back for this year’s tuition.”
“Why? I went to school. It isn’t my fault I’m not allowed to go back.”
“In what dimension is this not your fault?” she shrieked, unable to maintain her normally unflappable demeanor. “And you went to school half a year. I paid for a full year.”
“Then I’m only paying you back for half.”
“This is not a negotiation, young lady. This is me, telling you how it’s going to be.”
Here He Comes Again Page 8