by Vera Hollins
“I don’t know, Jess. I…I’m scared.”
My lips curled into a half-smile. “I understand.” I understood it well because I was scared too. I was scared of living my life the way I wanted to live it.
He pushed his glasses up his nose. “I’m a horrible friend. I guess S-Sarah hates me.”
“She doesn’t hate you. She understands because we can’t choose who we fall for.”
“You don’t think she’s angry?”
“Not at all. So don’t worry about her.”
He rolled his lips in. “But I’m so embarrassed to even look at Hayden. How can I face him after this?”
“Act like it didn’t happen? I don’t know. I think it’s not that big of a deal. I mean, it’s not like you can do anything about it.” I patted his shoulder. “So don’t worry about it.”
He shrugged. “I’ll try.” He wiped his nose with the back of his hand and adjusted his glasses. “Thanks. You’re amazing.”
He was so sweet. “You too.”
“By the way, it sucks that you can’t go to our choir practice. Marcus is going to miss you.”
Tension coiled in my stomach at the reminder that I had detention with Blake after school. I wanted nothing more than to miss it, but there was no escaping it.
“Marcus?”
“Yeah. You know he keeps asking me about you when you’re not there.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I mean he always wants to talk to me for some reason.”
“Hmm, that sounds interesting. Maybe I’m just an excuse for him to talk to you.”
“Nah. No way.” I gave him a pointed look. “No way. He asked you out.”
“That’s true, but honestly? I don’t feel like he likes me. He’s friendly to me in U.S. history, but I think that’s all there is to it.”
“I see.” He looked away. “He’s cute,” he said quietly, blushing.
“He’s cute? Now that sounds interesting.” I wiggled my brows at him and laughed when his whole face went red.
The bell rang, and my anxiety intensified. Just one more period and I would have to go to detention. I wrung my hands together, wishing a time-skip existed so I could just step into tomorrow.
We left the classroom. “Good luck with detention, Jess.”
“Thanks. I’ll need it. See you,” I mumbled in response and headed to my next class, hoping one more time that this detention was just a bad dream and I was about to wake up soon.
The last period ended too quickly. I dragged myself to Ms. Gentry’s classroom with anxiety bubbling in my stomach.
“It’s okay, Jess. It will pass quickly. He won’t do anything to you. Don’t be afraid,” I whispered to myself, my pulse accelerating rapidly.
It was no use. I couldn’t calm down.
I reached the classroom just in time and exhaled in relief because it was empty. I sat down at the desk on the far side of the room, hoping Blake wouldn’t show up. It was too quiet, which didn’t sit well with me.
All my hope was squashed when the door opened and Blake entered. He looked ever so intimidating in a dark gray shirt and black jeans, but as always, there was more to him, and I couldn’t look away. His piercing gaze held me captivated, wiping away all my coherent thoughts as we looked at each other. The silence in the room suddenly became deafening.
He crossed over and halted right in front of my desk. He looked down at me with his arms folded across his chest, and I felt at a big disadvantage sitting with him standing above me. I caught a whiff of his distinctive scent and frowned, reproaching myself for liking it.
“Did you have fun with Burks?”
My heart rate doubled as I stared at one spot on the blackboard, ignoring his unexpected question.
“You two are perfect for each other. Both of you are losers no one wants.”
I tugged at my shirt, my fingers clenching around the material. He supported himself with both hands on the desk and leaned toward me. I dropped my gaze with a start. Go. Away.
“Only a loser would want to fuck a whale.”
I winced and dug my fingers into my thighs as my face warmed up. My hair couldn’t hide me enough.
“Shut up,” I said, hardly more than a whisper.
“You like them weird, Fats? Does he stutter when he fucks you?”
My chest burned with anger. “Please shut up.”
“I bet he couldn’t keep his dick up for even a minute.”
I was pressing my fingers into my thighs so hard it was going to leave bruises. “Shut up.”
He chuckled. “Maybe two minutes tops—if he imagined Hayden’s dick.”
“I said, shut up!” I stood up, forgetting all about fear as my anger took over. “You’re absolutely disgusting! I won’t let you speak about him like this!”
He raised one eyebrow at me and straightened himself up. “Or what? What are you going to do to protect your boyfriend? Whine? You’re just making a fool of yourself.”
“For friends, I’m ready to do anything.”
Not even a muscle moved on his face as he studied me, his eyes ablaze. “Those are brave words for a total coward. Why don’t you go to some corner and hide like usual? Before you shit your pants.”
Just a few months earlier, that was exactly what I would’ve done. I wouldn’t even have been able to speak my mind, but I couldn’t keep quiet anymore—just like that day in the cafeteria more than two months earlier, when I’d confronted him for the first time ever.
“I’m aware that I’m not the bravest person out there, but I can change. I want to change.”
“Aww, so touching. Do you want applause? Here.” He clapped his hands hard. Each clap brought me more shame and pain, but I didn’t back down.
“You can mock me all you want, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’ll be out of high school soon and won’t have to see your face ever again.” He clenched his jaw. “One day, I’ll be a better person, but you’ll never change. You’ll always remain this horrible jerk without a heart.” Something flashed in his eyes, and the veins at his temples bulged out. “You’ll stay alone.”
He fisted his hands. “Shut your damn mouth.”
“Why?” I let out a taunting chuckle, which was so not me, but it was oddly fitting in this moment. “It’s the truth. Does the truth hurt you?”
He grabbed the collar of my shirt and yanked me toward him. “If you don’t shut your mouth right now, you’ll regret it.”
The adrenaline and anger silenced all the warnings that told me not to provoke him. “What’s the matter, Blake? It hurts? But I’m just telling the truth! No one is ever going to love you—”
He shoved me into the nearest wall and pressed me against it, shaking with rage. “Shut the fuck up! You don’t know anything about me!”
“And I don’t want to!” I grabbed his hands with mine and tried to remove them from my collar, but to no effect. “I want to stay as far away from you as possible!”
He got into my face. “You’ll never stay away from me!”
“Why?!”
“Because you’re my fucking trigger!” His shouted revelation echoed sharply in the classroom. “You brought everything back! And for that, I’ll make you pay!”
I was dumbstruck, my gaze darting between his eyes. “What are you—”
“Miss Metts? Mr. Jones? What in heaven’s name are you doing?!”
Releasing me, Blake stepped back and faced Ms. Gentry, who stared at us with eyes wide open. My legs turned wobbly now that I was coming off my adrenaline high, so I supported myself against the wall.
“I-I’m sorry—” I started.
“What the fuck does it look like?” Blake growled. He looked like he was about to explode, which was nothing new because he’d always been volatile and easily angered when confronted.
“Watch your mouth, Mr. Jones. You can’t talk to me like that.”
He sneered at her. “Or what?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Or I’ll talk to the principa
l about your suspension.”
“Do that, and I’ll talk to my father about having you fired.” I gaped at him. The audacity!
“I’m not afraid of your father, Mr. Jones,” she said in a slightly raised voice with her hands placed on her hips, and I looked at her with newfound respect. “And you would be wise not to talk to him because I’m not afraid to go to the press and expose your father if that happens. I’m not that easily intimidated.”
He clenched and relaxed his hands as he glared at her, staying silent. I hoped he wouldn’t make this harder than it already was. I just wanted this detention to be over with.
“I see you two have some serious issues with each other, and I’m not sure you really understand the ramifications of your deeds. I’m going to let you go home now.” Huh?
“You’re letting us go home,” Blake stated in a monotone voice, his eyes zeroed in on her.
“Yes, but hang on. I’m not finished yet. Our janitor has work for you, so you’re going to help him out until Thursday. You’ll start tomorrow after classes.”
I stared at her open-mouthed. This couldn’t be happening.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Afraid not, Mr. Jones. This is your punishment, but also a valuable lesson. Just writing reports or essays won’t cut it. You two have to learn to communicate better, and working together can help you with that.”
“No,” I blurted out. This was madness! I was sickened that I had to spend the rest of the week doing who knew what with Blake. No amount of time spent together would make our communication any better.
“You can forget it,” Blake said. “I’m not doing it.” He went for the door, but Ms. Gentry didn’t plan to let him have the last word.
“Then you will face a suspension and possible expulsion.”
He looked at her over his shoulder with his hand on the door handle and snorted. “Expulsion? There’s no way I’d get expelled. You seem to keep forgetting who my father is.”
“And you seem to keep forgetting that your father’s connections don’t matter much now that the whole world knows what is going on at this school. I’ve seen your record, Mr. Jones, and I can say with certainty that your bullying days are coming to an end. I’ll personally make sure you’re expelled if you refuse to attend detention.”
He marched over to her with a murderous expression. “If you think you can make the rules, you’re dead wrong.”
She wasn’t fazed in the least. “I won’t repeat myself, so you better choose your next words wisely.”
Wow. Just wow. I looked back and forth between them with admiration for Ms. Gentry. No teacher had stood up to Blake because they were afraid of his father, so this was the ray of hope Mel had often talked about. Mel believed individuals could change the world, and Ms. Gentry in action definitely confirmed that.
“The same goes for you, Miss Metts. Don’t even think about trying to evade it.”
I gulped, terrified just thinking about getting expelled. I could not let that happen. My parents would disown me!
“I’ll help the janitor.”
“Good.” She nodded at me then looked at Blake. “Mr. Jones?”
His glare was startling. He just stood there and looked at Ms. Gentry and me like we were his worst enemies. Seconds and seconds ticked by, tension rolling off him in waves until he finally gave in.
“Fine,” he spat out. “I’ll do it.”
“Excellent. Look for Mr. Maynard tomorrow. He’ll tell you everything you need to know.”
Giving me a glance full of hatred, Blake spun on his heel and stormed out of the classroom, but I couldn’t breathe any easier. All I could think about was that I was stuck with him for the next three days, replaying in my mind that one sentence that reached the deepest corners of me.
You’re my fucking trigger.
I yawned and rested my head in my hand. I struggled to stay awake in English. If only I was in my bed and sleeping. Ms. Dawson droned on about Virginia Woolf, but I didn’t hear the half of it. I thought about Blake and the way he’d acted the previous day, unease clawing at my insides. He was so fixated on me, and I didn’t know what to make of it.
To make things worse, my mom had given me the money to pay him for the broken screen. This meant I had to approach him and humiliate myself in order to fix this. The money in my pocket felt like lead, weighing me down.
I glanced at Sarah. She doodled something in her notebook, obviously not paying any attention to Ms. Dawson. Hayden, who sat on her other side, was on his phone. He looked even less interested in the lesson.
Sarah and I now sat the back of the classroom instead of the front, having taken the seats of Hayden’s buddies. It was only natural for Sarah to sit next to him after they got together, so switching places was a no-brainer.
I took my phone out of my pocket. I was going to see if Sar knew something about Blake that I didn’t.
Has Hayden told you anything about Blake?
She stopped doodling and reached for her phone in her pocket. She cast me a curious glance before she opened the message. Her reply arrived a few moments later.
Like what?
Like what’s his goddamn problem?
Did something happen between you two in detention?
We had a huge argument before Ms. Gentry arrived. And we have to help the janitor until Thursday as our punishment.
Are you serious?
Is Mel vegetarian?
She texted me back, and I glanced at Ms. Dawson to confirm she wasn’t looking in our direction—not that it mattered much because she couldn’t have cared less that the half of the classroom was chatting or texting. I opened the message.
That’s not good.
Yeah. He mentioned something weird.
What?
He said I was his trigger. Do you know what it could mean?
Not really. Hayden hasn’t told me much, except that he never dates.
That much was obvious, considering he went from one model-like girl to another like they were candies. She sent another text before I could reply to her.
I have a theory.
Boy, I had more of those than I could count, and each one was more absurd than the last.
Shoot.
I think something happened to him that prevents him from falling for anyone.
I just stared at the message, taken back to the time in the school gym a couple of months earlier, when I’d found him alone crying. That was the moment that had changed my perspective on him, and it was then that I’d heard him mention a girl’s name that piqued my curiosity. Emma. Did this have anything to do with her?
Sar’s new text popped up on my screen.
I noticed something.
Yes?
I think he was or is abused because he doesn’t like being touched from behind.
I frowned. I recollected my every encounter with Blake, but I failed to find anything that would confirm her words.
How do you know this?
Remember when you drove me home last year? He went berserk when you touched his shoulder.
My pulse quickened as the memory of that day rushed back to me. I’d thought he was just mad because I, someone he hated, had touched him. I hadn’t found anything about it unusual.
You think that’s a sign of some trauma?
It’s possible.
How about a phobia?
She frowned, deep in thought, before she typed a new message.
Like a phobia of touching?
Yeah.
Who knows?
I thought about this as the day went on, but I was unable to connect the dots. Even if he had been or was being abused, it didn’t justify the way he treated me. This meant he’d shifted the blame onto me for something that had nothing to do with me, and it was inexcusable. I didn’t deserve his anger.
U.S. history was about to bring me more time with Blake, and it didn’t help that we had detention right after it. I had to p
ass next to his locker on my way to the classroom, and my heartbeat accelerated before I even spotted him going through his stuff there. I quickened my pace to move past, but then I drew up. This could be my chance to give him the money for his phone screen.
My stomach spasmed. I wanted to bolt away, but I remembered my mom’s face when she gave me the money. It was either give him the money or die trying.
I forced my unsteady legs to move before I lost what little courage I’d gathered. It was like I was walking straight into the lion’s den, and I was clueless about what was waiting for me in the end. I stopped at a safe distance and took the money out of my pocket.
My traitorous eyes slid down his body, taking advantage of the opportunity before he turned around. My chest ached with sweet pressure that morphed into displeasure when I realized I was gawking at him.
Stupid, stupid me.
I tugged at the end of my shirt, remembering to suck my belly in when a few girls passing by glanced at my stomach. It was a good thing I wasn’t wearing a tight shirt today.
“Blake,” I called out, and his back muscles turned rigid. I swallowed hard, clutching the bills in my hand. I must not wimp out. I absolutely must not wimp out.
He turned to face me with a hostile expression. “The fuck you want?”
As much as he drove me up the wall, I had to put up with his horrible attitude and be a better person this time. “I owe you for your broken screen.” Each word hurt; everything in me was set against this. “So I want to pay for it.”
My racing pulse went crazy when I moved two steps closer to him and extended my hand with the money toward him, silently begging him not to make this harder for me and take it.
He looked at the bills as if he didn’t understand what the hell I was doing. Frankly, I didn’t understand myself either, but I’d broken his screen, and it was time for me to own up to it.
“You’re paying me for my broken screen,” he stated flatly.
“Y-Yes.” My hand was shaking, and I was sure he could see it. He was most certainly feeding on it, enjoying seeing me at his mercy. “I-I’m sorry for breaking your screen.” There, I’d said it. I’d managed to say my apology. “Please. Take the money.”