by Vera Hollins
“I let them?”
“Yes.”
“Are you seriously asking me that? You, who controlled me and inspired fear in me every single day?”
“That’s all in your head. Fear and inability to defend yourself are all in your head. I’m not reducing my blame here, but you let your mind mess with you, allowing me and others to exploit that.”
I gritted my teeth, seething. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Tightening his jaw, he crossed the space between us. “I don’t? You have no fucking idea what I’ve gone through.”
I froze, the frames from that video intruding into my mind once more. His eyes grew stormy as he grabbed my shoulders and pulled me until our faces were a breath apart. He was shaking.
“I know fear the best. Hell, fear destroyed my life! But I never stopped fighting it. Every second of my life, I’m fighting it. You? You just run away from it, but running away doesn’t make bad things disappear. So instead of playing the role of a little, weak girl who waits for Sarah and others to save her ass, tough it out. Fight back. And even if you get hurt in the process, at least you aren’t a pathetic coward in the end.”
He released me, picked up the ball, and left the gym, leaving me rooted to the spot.
Blake had told me to tough it out. He was right about that because overcoming my cowardice was long overdue. His words stayed with me the whole day long, playing on repeat, inviting each bullying memory back into my mind.
If I’d fought back, would things have been any different? Mel seemed to have it under control. She never let others walk all over her and always fought her battles on her own.
How many times had I thought about fighting back but not been able to because I felt smaller than a mouse? After all, what could one girl do against so many people? And even if I defended myself, who could guarantee it wouldn’t get worse? If you defeat your bully, who can guarantee they won’t come back tomorrow with someone to back them up?
I’d seen that scenario too many times before. I’d seen boys punch their tormentors back, only to get beaten to a pulp in the school’s back yard the next day by those same tormentors and their friends. Victims couldn’t win. They were brutally silenced.
So I suffered in that lonely silence and hoped for all the bullying to stop one day. But it never did, becoming even worse when I came to East Willow High and met Blake.
“And even if you get hurt in the process, at least you aren’t a pathetic coward in the end,” Blake had said.
I was ready to fight back for Kevin. So why couldn’t I fight back for myself?
Fighting back at all costs or remaining a coward.
Both choices could cost me a lot, but I’d been a coward my whole life, and what had that brought me? I was even ready to sacrifice my future—my whole life—and go to a college my parents preferred just so they would be pleased.
So when Melissa asked me to come with her to the track on Friday night because Steven hadn’t come home for days and she wanted to make sure he was okay, I agreed without a second thought. If I wanted to become stronger, I had to break out of my shell and experience some excitement in my life. I needed a bit of danger to prove to myself I wouldn’t break that easily.
I didn’t like lying to my parents again, feeling like the pile of lies I’d told them had grown a lot bigger lately. This time, I said Mel had invited Sar and me to a sleepover at her house, and they only let me go after I promised I would spend the whole weekend studying and working on my assignments.
The old guilt seeped in. I was supposed to be their perfect daughter who remained in her bubble that kept her away from the horrors of the real world. I wasn’t supposed to mingle with people who had one foot in a prison cell.
But then again, I was tired of trying to be perfect for them. I was tired of the limited freedom.
I glanced at Mel, who was deep in her thoughts as she drove us to the track. She looked exhausted, with worry lines embedded deep into her forehead, and I guessed it had a lot to do with Steven. Apart from not coming home, he’d also missed a whole week of school, and no one knew what he could be up to.
“Are you okay?” I asked her.
“Never been better,” she replied, her gaze fixed on the unlit road.
Her dark eye circles and face told a different story. “How are you sleeping these days?”
“I’m not sleeping at all. I’ve become a vampire, and now I function at night too.”
I went into a fit of giggles, shaking my head at her. “It’s that bad?”
She tightened her grip on the wheel. “On a scale of one to ten? It’s thirteen plus three.”
“So that’s why you’ve been popping those energy drinks lately.”
“Yep. Red Bull is my new best friend, my future boyfriend, and also my future husband.”
“Wow. I wish Red Bull and you all the best in the future.”
“Thanks.” She switched gears and ran her hand through her shoulder-length hair. “Between my idiotic brother and the school festival, I barely have time to breathe. Add in my anti-bullying campaign and the vice president duties, and you get a zombie.”
“Now, you can’t be both a vampire and a zombie. You have to pick one.”
“Vambie?” I chuckled. “I’ve been so busy with the festival. I had to confirm the participants of the workshop and make sure we got all the necessary rights for the bullying documentaries.”
“The workshop?”
“Yeah. We’re going to create clay figurines and sell them. All proceeds will go to anti-bullying organizations.”
“That’s so cool! I wanna join.”
She glanced at me. “You do?”
“Yeah. I used to make clay figurines in elementary school. It was fun.”
“Great! I’ll count you in. Sar will make some too, and she’ll also create drawings with anti-bullying messages.”
“That sounds cool.”
Mel’s Samsung, which was in the dashboard holder, chimed, alerting her to a new message from her dad.
She snorted. “So he finally decided to text me back.”
“Finally?”
“Yeah, finally, because he’s sooo busy. He never has the time to even respond to a call.”
“That sucks.”
“Big time. He keeps working extra hours, and whenever I go to see him, he has only a few minutes for me. Last week, he forgot we were supposed to go out for dinner, and I had to wait for him at the restaurant. When I texted him to see what was going on, he just sent a short apology and rescheduled for ‘sometime in the future.’ It’s a damn mess. Ever since my parents filed for divorce, our family has been falling apart.”
“Maybe his work is his way of dealing with the divorce?”
She clenched the steering wheel. “That doesn’t mean he has to neglect his children. It’s as if it’s not enough that Steven and I have to go through hell because of them—we also can’t have a normal relationship with them?”
“You still think it would be better if they got back together?”
“Two hundred percent yes.”
I didn’t say anything in response, unsure of what to say to that. I knew if this were happening to my parents, I wouldn’t want them to stay together and be miserable just for my sake. That would be selfish of me. I’d want them happy, even if that meant a divorce.
But I understood Mel’s perspective. It was a big change, and it created a huge family rift. She and Steven were going through a lot because of their parents, and it could leave a mark.
Mel slowed down when we got closer to the track. Just like the last time, the clearing was filled to the brim with cars and crowds of people wearing black, promising another night of excitement and adrenaline. I got out of the car, and the cold breeze bit deep into my cheeks and nose. I pushed my hands into the pockets of my jacket to keep them warm.
“Let’s find that idiot,” Mel said, and I followed her.
The smell of weed was strong in the air. It came
from a nearby group of guys in their twenties who wore black hoodies and permanent scowls on their faces. Once more, I felt out of place. If my parents knew I was here, they would both have a heart attack for sure.
I looked around, searching, but not for Steven. My pulse sped up, a prickle of awareness hitting the back of my neck because I knew he was nearby.
This was proved right a couple of seconds later, when I found him talking to a red-headed guy I didn’t recognize in the distance. Blake wore a neutral expression on his face, but there was something about the two of them together that didn’t feel right.
“There he is,” Melissa said then rushed to Steven and Masen, who sat next to each other on the hood of Steven’s Audi TT and smoked. Masen’s smile transformed into a deep scowl when he saw Mel.
Melissa stopped in front of Steven and placed her hands on her hips. “Do you even remember that you have a home, punk?”
I gaped at Steven now that I saw him up close. He looked like he’d aged ten years in the last few days, and a rash lined his mouth. My stomach crawled, and when he met my gaze, his eyes bloodshot and pupils dilated, I actually recoiled, wanting to be at least a mile away from him. His look screamed danger, but most of all, it was alarming since it was obvious he was ensnared by something that led nowhere good.
“Who are you?” Steven asked her as he licked his lips, completely serious. He glanced at Masen while pointing at Melissa with his cigarette. “Do you know her?”
Masen snorted and took a drag of his cigarette, but his eyes remained hard as he looked at Melissa. He let out the smoke through his nose. “She’s Fart Stench.”
Mel moved to Masen with a sneer and slammed her hand on the hood next to his thigh, getting into his face. “Why are you letting him be like this?”
Masen glared at her, but he didn’t back away, only inches separating their faces now. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
She smacked the hood with her open palm. “Aren’t you supposed to be his friend? What kind of friend just stands by and does nothing to help someone who’s ruining his life right in front of their eyes? Look at him!” Melissa gestured at Steven, who observed their interaction with no emotion on his face. “He’s completely high and looks like he’s about to dissolve into nothing! Don’t tell me you’d let him get in his car and race in this condition?!”
Steven rolled his eyes. “Sis, you’re making a big deal—”
Masen moved so quickly Mel couldn’t even react, throwing the cigarette on the ground and flipping them around so that she was pressed between the hood and him.
“I’m sick and tired of you jumping to conclusions,” he told her, pressing her hands together against the hood behind her back. “You don’t know shit about me, so don’t act like a know-it-all.”
His tone of voice and the expression on his face were unlike his usual easygoing, playboy attitude, and it chilled me even though his anger wasn’t directed at me. It reminded me of that day when I met Eli and Masen flew off the handle. He could be terribly scary when he wanted to.
“Get away from me, you germ container!” She thrashed against him to set herself free, but Masen predicted all her self-defense moves and caged her in using his strength and experience. She had no advantage over him, even with her Krav Maga skills, and a sudden fear flickered on her face.
“I never hit girls, but when it comes to you, I want to the slap the shit out of you,” he growled into her face.
Steven slid off the hood and placed his hand on Masen’s shoulder. “Bro, let her go. You know how she is. I’m used to it, so just drop it.”
Masen didn’t move immediately, each of them glaring at the other with undiluted hatred. After a few seconds of high tension, he released Melissa and pushed himself away from her.
“Fuck this shit,” he muttered, walking away.
Mel frowned at Steven, her face cracking to reveal pain. “Real nice. You really know how to pick friends, Steven. You nailed it with this one,” she said in a shaky voice and lifted her chin toward Masen.
“Are you okay?” Steven asked, ignoring her remark, and I raised my eyebrows at the concern in his voice.
She looked away and rubbed her upper arms. “Yep. Why wouldn’t I be okay?”
“Because he pinned you down and you couldn’t—”
“We won’t talk about that now,” she said, glancing at me, which only sparked my curiosity. Steven also glanced at me, and understanding dawned on his face. Mel was hiding something from me, and I didn’t know how I felt about that.
“Fine, but will you stop jumping on Mace every single time?” he asked her. “I’m getting new grays every time I see you two fighting. And I want my hair to be perfect, thank you very much.”
Mel rolled her eyes. “What are you complaining about? Aren’t you always the one who can’t wait to grab his popcorn and enjoy the drama?”
“That’s true. I’m always up for some drama, but your drama got old a long time ago, sis. And FYI, I’m not racing tonight. Mace, who is a good buddy—oh, the shocker!—talked me out of it.”
I didn’t hear Mel’s answer, because Blake’s voice reached me from behind. “What are you doing here?”
I turned around, my throat turning dry at the sight of him. His smoldering eyes slid down my body in tight black jeans and a black jacket, and I got strong flutters in my belly. His gaze told me everything—he liked what he saw. A lot.
The old insecurities kicked in, and I folded my arms across my chest, feeling the need to hide myself. I wanted to suck in my belly, hoping the two pounds I’d lost over the last week were showing on my body, but then I remembered I should embrace myself the way I was and stop feeling less adequate than others, especially in front of Blake. He could like my looks or not, but that didn’t change the fact that I should love myself however I looked and whatever others said.
I looked at the redhead, who now stood next to Blake. Blake patted his shoulder. “Isaac, go on. I need to talk with her.”
So, he was the Isaac I’d heard Blake mention on the phone at school and after the previous week’s race. He seemed to be at least ten years older. He gave me a quick once-over, suddenly looking curious about me. There was something calculative in his gaze that didn’t inspire anything good in me.
“Sure,” he said as he smirked at Blake. “Good luck with the race.”
“Thanks,” Blake replied, watching him leave before he turned to face me. “So? What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to watch the race.” The excuse came out of my mouth too quickly.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me. You can’t be here.”
I knew that very well, but that didn’t stop me from challenging him. “Why not?”
“Because it’s dangerous.”
I took immense pleasure in this additional proof that he cared for my safety, but I didn’t let it overtake me. “Then what are you doing here?”
His face became closed off. “That’s not for you to know.”
I frowned at his cryptic answer. I had thought he would say something like I’m racing, duh, but definitely not that.
“Fine.” I glanced at Mel and Steven, who had moved a few feet away from us and were talking to each other in hushed whispers.
He crossed his arms over his chest. “I can’t figure you out. You’re all over the place these days. What are you doing now? And don’t tell me you came here to watch the race, because I’m not falling for it.”
“I’m not here because of you, if that’s what you’re thinking.” That’s not entirely true.
He took a step closer to me and towered over me. “That’s exactly what I’m thinking,” he said quietly.
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, Blake, but the world doesn’t revolve around you.”
He gave me an incredulous look. “This isn’t some game, Metts. It’s real and dangerous. You should go home. Come on.” He reached for me, as if he planned to take me home personally, but I stepped away before he made contact, refusing to
let him touch me.
“I’m not going to be a coward, Blake. I’m here to stay. So leave me alone.”
I spun around and moved closer to Mel and Steven as the announcer guy declared the race was about to start.
Several engines roared to life, and the atmosphere changed, allowing excitement to take over.
Blake cursed behind me. “Fuck.”
I was about to look at him over my shoulder, but he grabbed my hand and pulled me after him.
“Wait! What are you—”
“You wanted to play? Here, I’ll give you your danger.”
I glanced behind me at Mel, who had a What the heck? expression on her face as she watched us leave. It looked like she would come after us, but Steven told her something that kept her in place.
“What are you doing?” I asked him. My skin burned where he held me. We passed by the announcer, who looked at Blake with amusement.
“Taking a chick with ya?” he asked him.
“Call it my lucky charm.”
The guy winked at him. “Gotcha.”
We stopped next to his car, and he released my hand. “Get inside.”
I placed my hands on my waist. “I don’t want to be next to you when you’re racing.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to crash us into a tree. So get in.”
He didn’t wait for me to accept. He got into his car, assuming I would follow. I looked around and saw the previous week’s winner, Bobby Q. He met my gaze over the roof of his car, which was parked close by. He studied me, unusually motionless, and something terribly cold rushed through me. I didn’t want to be on his radar.
Rushing to get away from his gaze, I got inside Blake’s car. Instantly, I remembered our “almost” kiss before Masen showed up, and my heart rate kicked up. I was too aware of how attractive Blake looked in his sports car. It didn’t help that I was digging guys with said cars.
“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” I said, watching his arm flex as he fired up the engine and hit the headlights.
“Relax. This can be fun if you let it.”
He revved the engine and shifted into first. The car had a manual transmission, and I couldn’t help but be impressed. I had no clue how to drive a manual. My eyes fell on his knuckles. They bore fresh scrapes, which indicated he’d been in a fight recently.