Eclipsed: A High School Bully Romance (Del Sol High Book 3)

by McKayla Box

  “I don't think you're a psycho,” she says.

  I laugh and get out of the car. “Thanks.”

  “Hey.”

  I turn around. “Yeah?”

  “Are we okay?” she asks.

  Her brow is creased with worry and she’s chewing on her top lip. I stare at her for a minute, the memories of the times we spent together flashing through my mind at warp speed.

  “I was never not okay with you,” I tell her honestly. “It was what I did. It was my fault. You weren't the one who did anything.”

  “Maybe I was,” she says.

  “How is that even possible?”

  “I just mean that maybe I should've been more understanding,” she says. “Maybe I should've asked more questions. Heard you out. I don't know. But I'm not mad. And I miss being your friend, Nola. I know this is gonna sound weird, but this is the best afternoon I've had in months.”

  I smile. “That does sound weird.”

  “It's true,” she insists. “I’ve missed hanging out with you.”

  “Me, too,” I tell her. “Today felt…normal. Which is crazy, considering we just confronted your dad about possible being my father.”

  She laughs.

  “But it felt as normal as this could feel.”

  “I'll help you however I can,” Mercy says, giving me an earnest look. “I mean it. If you need me to do something, I'll do it.”

  “Thanks,” I tell her. I look to the ground because I don’t want her to see the tear pricking my eyes.

  “And I'm going to pick you up tomorrow,” she says. “Before school. So we can get coffee.”

  This surprises me and I glance up. “For real?”

  She nods. “Yeah. I miss our mornings. I know you have your shiny new ride there, but I miss our drives to school and I'm tired of not having them. Can I pick you up?”

  I nod, excited by the idea. “Yeah. Absolutely.”

  She smiles. “I'll be there. At regular time.”

  I get in my car and watch her drive away.

  Even after I stick the key in the ignition, I don’t start the car. I sit there for a minute, staring out the windshield, reliving the last couple of hours of my dad.

  I have to admit that I’m pretty disappointed that her dad isn't my dad. Driving back from his office, I felt pretty hopeless.

  But the day wasn’t a total lost cause.

  Because Mercy is picking me up tomorrow.

  And we just might be figuring out a way to be friends again.

  Maybe the day hasn't been a total waste after all.

  Chapter 23

  I go home, do my homework, have a quick dinner with my grandparents, take a shower, then crash on my bed.

  And call Ricky.

  “This is weird.” These are the first words out of his mouth.

  “Why?”

  “Because you're calling me,” he says. “One, because people never call anyone anymore. They just text. And, two, because I wasn't expecting you to call me.”

  “Oh,” I say. “Is it okay that I'm calling?”

  “Oh, yeah,” he says. “I was just surprised to see your name on the screen. What's up?”

  “I went to talk to him,” I say. “Jay King. Mercy's dad.”

  “Holy shit,” he says, his voice rising. “How did that go?”

  “It's not him.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.”

  He sighs deeply. “Shit. I'm sorry. What happened?”

  I tell him everything: my conversation with Mercy in the parking lot, then going over to her dad's office, and then him confirming that it's definitely not him. He listens, murmuring every now and then, but not interrupting to ask questions or offer commentary.

  And then I tell him about the other Jay. The little bit of information Mercy’s dad was able to give me.

  “Hmm,” he says when I finish. “I guess that's bad and good?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Bad that he's not the right guy,” he explains. “But good that he confirmed that your grandmother's memory is correct and that your dad is out there.”

  “Oh,” I say. “Yeah, I guess.”

  “So we just have to keep looking,” he says. His tone is matter-of-fact. “Keep doing what we started doing.”

  “Do you think that'll work, though? I'm back to feeling like this is a wild goose chase, and the goose is way too fast.”

  “You're looking at this the wrong way,” he says. “It already has worked. How else would you have found Jay King?”

  “But he's not my father.”

  “That doesn't matter,” he says. “I mean, okay, it matters in that we thought we had the right guy and it turned out not to be. I get that it's a bummer. But you’re missing the bigger picture. What matters is that the information you have from your grandmother seems to be accurate and we've crossed one guy who matches that criteria off the list. Now we just need to find the next guy who matches and see if he's the right one. It's a process of elimination. Research.”

  “Your favorite word,” I say, rolling over on the bed. I stare up at the ceiling. “Okay. I guess I see your point.”

  “It's like a multiple-choice question,” he explains. “You know that one of the four answers you're given is right, but you don't know for sure what the right answer is. You work backwards then. You rule out the ones you know are wrong to give yourself a shot at getting the right answer. That's what we're doing here.”

  I sigh. “I guess. It just doesn't feel like it's possible.”

  “You literally learned one more piece today,” he says. “Something huge.”

  I’m skeptical. “What's that?”

  “That he didn't go to Sun Valley,” he says. “Mercy's dad said he played football. So we can literally cut out an entire school, because he would have known if the dude went to school with him and they played on the same team. That's not a small thing.”

  “Why do you make this all sound so easy?” I ask.

  “It's like I told you,” he says. “It's research. It's investigating. I like it.”

  “I'm glad you do because I don't,” I tell him. “I just want the damn answer.”

  “Just gotta be patient,” he says with a chuckle. “Okay. I'll get back on the yearbooks. Let's meet for lunch tomorrow. You cool with that?”

  “Yeah, I guess,” I tell him. It’s not like I have other lunch plans tomorrow. Or any other day. “And, hey, Ricky?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Sorry I'm being a downer. I don't mean to be.” I take a deep breath. “I appreciate you still doing this. I really do. I'll try to not be so negative.”

  “It's fine.” He laughs. “You actually couldn't pull me off this now if you tried. I'm stubborn. Now I need to find the answer just to say I did.”

  I can’t help it. I laugh, too. “Thanks.”

  We hang up and I lay there on the bed awhile, thinking about the day. I ricocheted from thinking there was no hope to finding out who my father was to thinking I was sisters with my ex best friend to learning that we were not sisters and thinking this is all a lost cause to Ricky giving me a little bit of hope again.

  It's no wonder I fall asleep staring at the ceiling.

  Chapter 24

  It's weird getting into Mercy's car the next morning. I've developed my own routine now of driving to school in my car, but it's never felt normal or right.

  So it's a good kind of weird as I drop my bag at my feet and pull my seatbelt across me.

  “My dad hasn't had any luck yet,” she says before even saying hello. She’s wearing denim shorts and a crop sweatshirt and her hair is pulled into a loose French braid. “He sent out a couple of emails but hadn’t gotten any answers.”

  “Okay,” I say.

  “I just wanted you to know,” she says. She glances at me, a sympathetic smile on her face. “I'm sorry. I just blurted that out. Good morning.”

  I laugh. “Good morning. And it's fine.”

  We drive to the
coffee shop and before I can pull cash from my wallet, she hands the cashier her credit card. “You can get the next round,” she tells me, and I marvel over how casually she says this

  I sip my coffee and think it tastes different, sitting in her car, and drinking it next to my ex best friend. It makes me oddly happy, and I don't feel like I've felt happy in quite some time.

  Her phone buzzes and she looks down at the screen. “Ugh. Jake. Again.”

  “Why ugh?”

  She checks traffic and then pulls away from the coffee shop. “Because he's been a bit clingy. I told him I didn't really want a boyfriend or to do the whole couples thing. He said he was cool with that and he was at first. But, now, with prom and everything, he's just...acting like a dumbass boyfriend.”

  “That sucks,” I say. “Sorry.”

  “No, I'm sorry,” she says. She shoots me a worried look. “I didn't mean to bring up prom.”

  “Oh, it's fine,” I tell her, forcing a smile. “I'm good. I've already accepted it.”

  “Still,” she says. “It sucks.”

  It does suck, but I don't have the energy to be sad about it anymore. I've been sad about enough things.

  “I assume Brooke and Nick are going together?” I ask.

  She nods. “Yeah. Still totally weird. Not sure what their deal is and Brooke won't talk about it. But they're going together.”

  “What about Dylan?”

  She laughs. “Aiden.”

  “Seriously?”

  She nods again. “Seriously. They sort of clicked at Winter Ball. And she's tried to play it all cool because she's Dylan. But I think she really likes him. He's such a goofball, but he's been very sweet to her.”

  “That's cool,” I say. I try to picture them as a couple. “I'm glad for her.”

  “Did you...ever even talk with Archer about prom?” I can hear the hesitation in her voice.

  I shake my head. “I've talked to him exactly one time since that night. That was it, and it wasn't about prom. So, no, not even a little bit.”

  She nods, but doesn't say anything.

  “Is…is he going with someone else?” I ask. My heart starts to pound. “You can tell me. I won't freak out.”

  Which isn't true, but I want to know.

  “No,” she says. “He honestly hasn't been around that much. Not even with the guys.”

  “I figured Reese was going to make her move,” I say. It’s not a reach, as she pretty much told me she was going to do just that.

  She snorts. “She wishes. I've seen her try to talk to him at least twice and both times he's blown her off. It ain't happening.”

  I take some small comfort in that, but it doesn’t last.

  “She won't give up,” I say. “I know she won't. She told me as much.”

  “Good,” Mercy says with a snort. “Will be nice to see her get shut down over and over.”

  I look out the window, gazing at the beautiful houses we pass on our way to school. “If he keeps shutting her down. Don't forget. They were together before.”

  “Yeah, before he realized what an awful bitch she is,” she says. “I would be shocked if he ever went back to her.”

  I'm not nearly as confident as she is. They were together. That's a fact. And as much as I hate Reese, I know guys still look at her and drool. It's gross, but it's the truth. And I have no doubt she'd do anything to get back with him.

  Anything.

  And that makes me shudder.

  “Maybe you should just ask him,” Mercy says.

  “Ask him what? If he's interested in Reese?” I feel like gagging. “No thanks.”

  “No,” she says. “Ask him to prom.”

  I look at her like she's lost her mind. “Are you kidding me? It's in two days. And we've spoken once since Winter Ball.”

  “All I'm hearing is that neither of you has a date,” she says. “And it's not too late to change that.”

  “Even if I wanted to go, it wouldn't be with him,” I tell her. “He hates me. It is too late for us.”

  She pulls into the school lot and slides into a spot. She cuts the engine, pulls the keys from the ignition, and looks at me. “It's never too late. And I don't think for a second that boy hates you. He was flat-out in love with you, and that doesn't just go away over night.”

  “He's had several months to let it go away,” I remind her.

  The silence in the car is stifling. Neither of us makes a move to grab our things or to open our doors.

  “Has it gone away for you?” she finally asks.

  I hesitate. “It's not the same thing.”

  “Answer the question.” I’m not looking at her but I know she’s staring at me, waiting for my response. “Has it gone away for you?”

  I pick up my bag and settle it on my lap. “Does it matter?”

  “Yes,” she says. “I want to hear you say it. Has it gone away for you?”

  I give her an exasperated sigh. “You're relentless,” I tell her. “No, it hasn't gone away for me. Of course not. But I'm not the one who got hurt. He was.”

  “Bullshit,” she says. “You both got hurt.”

  She’s not wrong, and I find some small comfort in hearing her say this. As much as I know I fucked up by not telling my friends and Archer the truth about my past and my mother, I didn’t come out unscathed.

  “Yeah, but it's different,” I explain. “Reese did it to me. I couldn’t give a shit about her, and she sure as hell doesn’t care about me. But I was the one who hurt Archer. He's not going to forget that. So it doesn't matter if it hasn't gone away for me. What I feel is irrelevant.”

  We both finally get out of the car and she looks at me across the roof. The breeze is already blowing a strand of hair loose from her braid.

  “I don't care,” she says, her voice firm. “I still think you should ask him. What's the worst that could happen?”

  The question is a valid one. And I know the answer immediately.

  “He could say no,” I tell her. I hate that my throat feels tight, that my eyes sting with unshed tears. I blink rapidly, making sure not a single drop falls. “He will say no. And I don't need that right now.”

  “But he might not,” Mercy offers.

  I admire her optimism, but I know it’s misplaced.

  Archer would absolutely say no.

  I saw it in his eyes the night of the Winter Ball, and I saw how he kept his distance at the beach the other day. Even though he sat with me, even though he talked with me, it means nothing.

  What we had?

  It's gone for him. I killed it off.

  So Mercy is wrong.

  It is too late for us.

  Chapter 25

  “Hey,” Ricky says. “I was afraid you weren't coming. I was just about to text you.”

  I sit down across from him and drop my bag to the floor. The library is quiet, save for the humming of the florescent lights above us. “Sorry. I left my lunch in my locker.”

  I made it through the morning with no drama and was heading toward the library when I realized I didn’t have my lunch with me. I ran back to my locker and Mercy was there, asking me to go to lunch. Part of me was torn—she was asking me to hang out for the first time in months. Going to lunch meant probably seeing Dylan and Brooke, too, which might mean patching things over with them, as well.

  But I knew I couldn’t go.

  I told her I was meeting Ricky, and she immediately understood. She said to text her after lunch if I learned anything.

  “No problem,” Ricky says. He clears some space on the table. “I grabbed a slice of pizza earlier before I came over here.”

  “Earlier? Lunch just started a few minutes ago.”

  He shrugs. “I wanted to start looking, and my physics class is easy. Blue slip.”

  I shake my head, but laugh. “Okay.”

  “I know you told me about Mercy's dad not being the right guy.” He leans back in his chair and adjusts the hat on his head. It’s brown and yellow, a Padres h
at. “But was he pretty cool about the whole thing?”

  “More than cool,” I tell him, digging my sandwich out. “He was actually really nice about the whole thing, and he said he was going to try and ask some of his old high school friends if they remembered who the other Jay was.”

  He eyes me over the table. “So he didn't freak out or anything that you were asking him?”

  I shake my head. “Not even a little.”

  “That's good.” He tugs on the bill of his hat. “You know, not everyone might react like that.”

  “I know,” I tell him. I’m about to take a bite of my sandwich but there’s something in Ricky’s demeanor that suddenly has me on edge. “Why do you say that?”

  He doesn’t look at me. “I just...I just think you need to remember that.”

  I watch him for a moment. His shoulders are bunched up and he keeps fidgeting with his hat. He's nervous.

  “What's going on?” I ask, pushing my sandwich aside.

  He picks up a pencil and starts tapping it against the table. “I think I found him. Another Jay. Maybe the Jay you're looking for.”

  My heart starts hammering. “Already?”

  “Well, I started working on it last night a little bit,” he says. “Then I got to school this morning and I wasn't doing much in my classes anyway. So I've been working on it for most of the day. Just doing the same stuff we were doing before. Writing down names. I started writing down all J names just in case he went by Jay as a nickname or something. Then I cross-referenced them all against the football photos. So I had a pretty decent list.” He looks down at the pad of paper next to the stack of yearbooks. “And I think I may have found him.”

  I lay my hands flat on the table. I don't want to get excited because I don't want to be let down in the same way I was when Mercy's dad told me that it couldn't be him. I want to temper my expectations.

  But it's a hard thing to control.

  “He would be a year older than your mom,” Ricky says. “Or he at least graduated a year before your mom, I think. I was really focusing on her year of graduation, but not really having any luck. So that's when I started looking outside of her year. He went to Canyon. And he played football. And it's not a nickname. His name is Jay.”