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

by McKayla Box

  He pulls out his phone, looks from me to her. “Yeah.”

  “Do it,” she says, staring at me. “Do it right now. Let's end this bitch once and for all. Let's show Archer the fucking truth.”

  “It'll take a minute,” he tells her, tapping his phone. “To hit the screen.”

  “Good,” Reese says. “It'll give her another minute to sweat.” She turns around and I realize she's focused on the big screen behind the DJ that until now has been running music videos.

  He's going to run something to that screen.

  And it'll be even bigger than what they sent out to people's phones.

  I feel sick to my stomach.

  And then I look at Ricky, hate burning in my eyes.

  He is staring back at me.

  He winks at me, then mouths what looks like trust me.

  What the fuck is going on?

  Chapter 44

  The screen behind the DJ flickers for a moment, then goes black.

  Ricky motions to me to come toward him. I hesitate, then move back around behind the table. He takes my arm and we walk away from the table and Reese.

  “You aren't going to want to be anywhere near her,” he whispers.

  “Why? What's going on?”

  He stops and pivots back toward the screen. “Just watch.”

  I'm not sure what I'm expecting to see, but it's definitely not an animated version of Reese on the screen. It reminds me of The Simpsons, but it's very clearly her. The pouty lips, the blonde hair, the cheerleading outfit. It's definitely her.

  And she talks.

  “Hi guys,” she says. “It's me. Reese McClure.”

  The entire ballroom laughs.

  “Did you make this?” I ask.

  “Yeah,” he says. “She came to me and wanted me to tell her what we were working on. So I fed her a bullshit story, basically what she wanted to here, and told her I could turn it into a PowerPoint thing. Except I didn't.” He nods at the screen. “Watch.”

  “I know you guys are wondering what I'm doing up here,” the animated version of Reese says. “But I'm just here to give everyone an apology.”

  I look around the room. Everyone is watching. And Reese is fidgeting, looking left, then right.

  “I've been a serious bitch for four years,” Cartoon Reese says. “Actually, longer than that, probably. Probably for as long as I've known you. And I thought it was time I apologize for being so awful. Because, you know, I'm awesome like that.”

  Laughter ripples through the room.

  “But I wanna give a personal apology to one person in particular,” Cartoon Reese says. “Nola Murphy. I have just been a total wench to you. And I'm so, so sorry. It's mainly because I was jealous of your boyfriend and the fact that you have actual friends and that you're so much better looking than I am. Plus, you were homecoming queen and that was something I'd spent my whole life counting on.”

  The laughter is louder this time.

  Reese is whipping her head around, no doubt looking for Ricky, who has slid behind me.

  “I've been pretty terrible to you,” Cartoon Reese says. “It was me who set that whole thing up at Winter Ball. Because I really suck. And I was really hoping to embarrass you tonight, too, with this totally made-up story. Because I really, really suck. But I thought better of it. Actually, I didn't because I'm not smart enough to think better of something, so a friend made this cartoon instead.”

  Now the entire room is laughing. I see several teachers from school gathering near the DJ booth, probably trying to figure out how to shut it off.

  “So, hey,” Cartoon Reese says. “Sorry about being such an awful bitch. To everyone. I'll be graduating soon—hopefully—so you won't have to deal with me anymore. I'll be off to bother new people then.” Cartoon Reese thrusts a fist in the air. “Go Del Sol!”

  The screen goes black and the entire room erupts in applause.

  “Holy shit,” I whisper.

  “Yeah,” Ricky says. “Holy shit. I gotta get outta here. Hey, Nola?”

  I turn and look at him.

  “I truly am sorry about what I did,” he says, backing up. “I hope this helps a little.” He turns and jobs off.

  Chapter 45

  The music comes back on and Reese whirls in my direction. “Where is he?”

  “Gone,” I tell her.

  Her face is bright red and she looks around the room frantically.

  There are plenty of eyes looking back at her.

  “You did this,” she says.

  “I did nothing,” I tell her. “This is just karma.”

  “You did this,” she says again. “I know you did this. And I'm going to get you.”

  But her usual confidence and arrogance is missing now. The myth of Reese McClure has been shattered and even she knows it.

  “You do whatever it is you need to do.” I smile at her. “I actually feel sorry for you, Reese. Never thought I'd say that, but I do. I really do. I hope you figure your shit out some day and realize you don't have to be a snake.”

  Her hands are balled at the sides of her dress. “I'll find out why you were at Heath's,” she snaps. “I'll get my proof.”

  “I'm sure you will,” I tell her. “Because you're obsessed with me, so I'm sure you will. But it's never been what you want it to be. And it won't be in the future, either. I am so done with you.”

  And I really am.

  I'm done with all of it.

  The drama.

  The lies.

  The bullshit.

  I'm grateful for Mercy and Brooke and Dylan and for what they've done for me tonight.

  But I am just done being at the center of this storm.

  I grab my purse and look at my archenemy in her pink dress. “Enjoy the prom. See you around, Reese.”

  Chapter 46

  Rather than go home right away, I head toward the beach, figuring a walk in the night air will help me clear my head. I slip off my heels and make the walk down to the ocean from the stairs behind The Veranda.

  The beach is deserted and the ocean is quiet in front of me. The sand is cold on my bare feet and the smell of salt carries off the water.

  I take a deep breath and take it all in. I close my eyes.

  Weirdly, I actually feel okay, like I have a handle on things.

  Maybe not a handle on things.

  More like I feel as though I can survive.

  All of this.

  Everything that has been thrown my way.

  But then a voice changes all that. “I saw you leave.”

  I turn around.

  Heath Rogers is standing there. His tie is undone around his neck and he's not wearing a coat. His shadow is long and wide under the moonlight on the sand.

  “So?” I ask.

  “You make that cartoon thing?”

  “No.”

  He laughs. “Liar. Who else would've done that?”

  “I didn't do it,” I tell him.

  “Come on, Nola,” he says. “We all know you're a liar. First you lied about your mom. Then you lied about your dad.” He pauses. “And now you're trying to rope my dad into your bullshit.”

  My stomach tightens. “He told you?”

  “Yeah,” he says. “After I heard him talking to my mom. I heard most of it then, but then I asked him what was going on and he told me.” He grins at me. “And then he made me swear not to say anything.” He laughs. “Oops. I lied. I'm just like you.”

  “Look, Heath, I—”

  “Shut the fuck up,” he says, holding up his hand and frowning. “Just shut up.”

  It occurs to me that his words are slightly slurred and that he's drunk.

  “I don't need to hear your bullshit,” he says. “And I'm not going to let you manipulate my dad and fuck up his life. And mine.”

  “I'm not fucking up anyone's life,” I tell him.

  “I know you're lying,” he says, stepping toward me. “I don't know how you got him to believe it's the truth, but I know you're lyi
ng. And I'm not going to let you do it.” He takes another step toward me. “No fucking way.”

  “I'm not lying,” I say, backing up. “I've already talked to your dad and—”

  “Shut up!” he roars. “Just shut up! I don't wanna hear anything from you! I am done with you! And I'm going to make sure you don't fuck with him the way you fucked with me.”

  “I didn't fuck with you,” I tell him. “You're insane.”

  He laughs, and it's the laugh of a movie villain. “Oh, right. You didn't pretend like you were interested in me at that party. Then just blow me off. And now I know why. It was all a ploy to get to my dad.”

  “You aren't making any sense,” I tell him. “If you—”

  “I said shut up!” he yells again. “Shut your fucking mouth!”

  I take another couple of steps backward. He's drunk and he's out of his mind.

  And I'm afraid of him.

  “I'm not going to let you hurt my family,” he growls, walking toward me. “I'm not going to let it happen. No matter what I have to do.” He shakes his head. “I don't care what I have to do.”

  There is menace in every word.

  He is drunk.

  And angry.

  And we're alone on the beach.

  So I do the only thing I can do.

  I turn and run like hell.

  Chapter 47

  I run as fast as I can.

  I hear his footsteps on the sand behind me, but I don't turn around for fear it'll slow me down. My heart is hammering and my lungs are burning, but I keep moving.

  I reach the end of the sand and I'm not sure where to go. On the other side of the boardwalk is a jagged rock jetty. Even if I had my shoes on, it would be impossible to navigate.

  My only choice is the pier.

  Which doesn't feel like much of a choice at all.

  But it will at least buy me some time.

  I turn and go up the short set of steps, then run down the pier. I look back down to my right and I can see him coming up the sand. He's slowing down and I'm thinking that maybe it's because he's tired and he's going to give up.

  But then I see him smile.

  And I realized it's because now he knows he's got me trapped.

  I stop and unzip my small purse, digging out my phone. It falls from my shaking hands and lands on the wood. I grab it and open it. I call Mercy and look back toward the sand.

  He's at the edge of the pier now.

  I start backing up as the phone rings.

  And rings.

  And rings.

  Shit.

  I can picture it sitting there on the table in the ballroom.

  I end the call and look up. He's coming down the pier now.

  I start backing up and look at my phone again. I have to call 911. I open the screen.

  And then my heel catches on one of the wooden planks and I stumble backward. I reach down to break my fall and my phone goes flying. I hit the rough wood hard.

  It’s so dark that I can't see my phone anywhere.

  “Have a nice trip?” Heath says, laughing. “See you next fall!”

  Panic is taking over as I scramble to my feet. I'm looking everywhere, but I don't see my phone. It's too dark.

  I look at him. “Heath. Stop. This is stupid. You don't want to do something stupid.”

  He's within ten feet of me now.

  “So now I'm stupid?” he says. “You are the fucking worst.”

  “I'll tell your dad I don't want anything to do with him,” I tell him, backing up. “If that's what you want. I'll do whatever you want.”

  “Too late for that,” he says, shaking his head. “He likes you. You were so damn...nice. So now he thinks he has to be a father to you. To poor little Nola.” He keeps walking toward me. “But I'm not going to let you screw up our lives. No fucking way.”

  “You're drunk,” I tell him. “And you're mad. But you don't want to do this.”

  “Do what?” he says. “Throw you off this pier and watch you drown?” He rubs his chin. “Maybe I do. Or maybe I just throw you to the sand and hope you break your neck.” He laughs. “Which do you want? Water or sand?” He grins. “Or should I surprise you?”

  My hands are shaking. I have no idea how high up we are, so I have no idea what the fall will be like. But I don't want to find out.

  “Heath, please,” I say. “Please, don't do this.”

  “Yeah, beg,” he says. “I like that.” Then he waves an arm in the air. “Aw, fuck it. I don't need to hear you beg. I just wanna see you fall.” He strides toward me and he's maybe twenty feet away.

  Running won't do anything for me. It'll just put me further out on the pier and over deeper water. The only thing I can think of is to let him get closer and try to fight him. I can hope that he's had enough to drink that I'll be able to claw at his eyes or kick him in the balls. It's all I have.

  But he's bigger and stronger than I am and I don't like my odds.

  “Come here, bitch,” he mutters, walking toward me.

  I take a couple more steps backward.

  And then the pier starts shaking.

  And I hear footsteps.

  And so does Heath.

  He turns around.

  Just as Archer crashes into him.

  They smash through the wooden railing and go over the side of the pier, down toward the water.

  Chapter 48

  I'm screaming as I run to the railing. There's a gaping hole of jagged, snapped wood where they've gone over. I can see the spot in the water where they hit, a circle of white water and foam.

  I stand there, frozen, waiting for them to come up.

  Waiting.

  Tears start pouring from my eyes and my entire body shakes.

  And then the water stirs.

  Archer's head comes up first.

  He's swimming.

  He's towing Heath in behind him, like he's a lifeguard.

  I run back toward the entrance to the pier, stumble down onto the sand, and run to the water. By the time I get there, Archer is dragging Heath out of the water. He throws him to the ground. Heath is gasping for air and there's a bloody gash over his left eye.

  But he's alive.

  They're both alive.

  Archer is standing over him, his suit soaked, his chest heaving. He takes a step back, then drives his foot into Heath's ribs. Heath groans and rolls over.

  “Don't!” I yell.

  Archer looks up at me, pushing the wet hair from his face. “What the fuck was he doing to you?”

  “Don't hurt him,” I say. “There's no point. Don't make it worse.”

  He looks down at Heath, then comes over to me. He's soaked to the bone. “Did he hurt you?” His voice is sharp.

  I shake my head. “No. No. I'm okay. Are you alright?”

  “I'm fine,” he says. “Someone told me they saw you leave and I thought you might be down here. I saw you running on the pier and I saw him. I just started running.” He takes a deep breath. “Are you sure you're okay? What did he want?”

  I take his hands. They're cold and wet, but I don't care. “I'm okay. And it's complicated. But I'll explain it to you. I swear to you. There's nothing between him and me. Nothing. You have to believe that.”

  He takes a deep breath. “I do. I just want to make sure you're okay.”

  I move into him. He is cold and wet, just like his hands, but I don't care. He puts his arms around me.

  I put my head against his chest. “I'm okay now.”

  Chapter 49

  “I wasn't sure you'd come,” I say.

  “Told you I would,” Archer says.

  It's the next afternoon. The rest of the night was a blur. I called the police and they took Heath in. I gave them my statement. They charged him with public intoxication and said they'd be in touch with me about possible other charges. I got a text from Jay Rogers in the middle of the night asking if I was alright. I didn't know what he was told or what he knows, but I assured him I was fine.
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br />   I end up going home with the girls. They came down to the beach because word spread that something was happening. They found the three of us down on the sand. Brooke offered to take me home. I wanted to wait until Archer was done with the police, but he told me to go and we'd catch up later. I texted him as soon as I was home and asked him to meet me down at the beach by the pier the next afternoon.

  So now we're here.

  I point to the blanket I've laid out. “Sit.”

  He raises an eyebrow, but sits down. I sit next to him.

  I look at him. “Heath's dad is my dad.”

  He frowns at me. “What?”

  I explain everything to him, from Ricky helping me to thinking it was Mercy's dad, to learning it was actually Jay Rogers. I explain to him that Heath found out and that's why he was out on the pier with me.

  When I'm done, he runs a hand through his hair. “Wow. Okay.”

  “But it really hurt me that you'd ever think I cared about anyone other than you,” I tell him. “That's why I was upset. That you believed some bullshit story that Reese was trying to put in your head. It was never true. Never.”

  He leans back on his hands. “I know. I think...I think I was just confused. And I was still angry that you lied to me.”

  “I know that,” I say. “And I'm sorry. I can't ever take that back. I wish I could, but I can't.”

  “You've already apologized,” he says. “You don't have to apologize again.”

  “I feel like I can't apologize enough.”

  “It's probably my turn,” he says. “I should've listened to you. At the dance that night. But I was so angry at you. Because I hadn't really thought about any of the anger I had toward my dad. And my mom. It was all just sitting inside of me.” He looks at me. “And I think it was easy to blame you.”

  I nod. “Probably.”

  “But I've missed you,” he says. A muscle in his jaw twitches. “I've picked up the phone a million times to call you or text you. But then I just put it down.”