Trapped (Bullied Book 4) (Bullied Series)

by Vera Hollins

  “Hang on a sec,” he said before walking out of the kitchen. I just wished he would come back so we could talk about my college decision.

  But when he returned and I saw the object in his hands, I grew speechless and my pulse began to race.

  He’d bought me a new guitar, and it wasn’t just any guitar. I recognized it because I’d googled it so many times, fantasizing about owning it. It was a Gibson Montana SJ-200 Standard, one of the best acoustic guitars in the world. This piece of amazingness cost more than four grand.

  This piece would cost their disappointment when they heard about the path I’d chosen.

  “I can’t believe you bought me a Gibson. Did you rob a bank to buy it?”

  Laughing, he handed me the guitar that had a big, red bow attached to its neck. “A bank or two, yes. Do you like it?”

  My hands were shaking as I inspected the beautiful vintage design, running my fingers over its polished surface. This guitar was heavier than my Martin, but it felt perfect in my hands.

  “Do I like it? I LOVE it!” I jumped from the chair and hugged him, holding the guitar in one hand. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

  I saw Mom smiling broadly over my shoulder, which gave me hope that the conversation about college would go well. They cared about my happiness. They wanted me to do what would make me happy. So maybe they wouldn’t get mad…at least not very.

  I stepped away from Dad and placed the guitar on the counter, so carefully, as if each move could shatter it into pieces.

  “Thank you, both of you,” I said, inhaling deeply. “But there is something I wanted to talk to you about.”

  Dad leaned against the counter next to Mom. “Yes?”

  “I’m not going to your law college, or any law college, for that matter.” Their smiles dropped.

  “What are you saying?” my mom asked. “You won’t go to a law college?”

  I plastered my suddenly cold hands together. No matter what, I would push through this.

  “Yes. I don’t want to be a lawyer.” I looked at my dad. “I never did. I want to pursue a career in singing.”

  His face turned stern. “Singing?” He said that word as if it was going to bite him.

  I swallowed the bile that rose up my throat. “Yes. I want to be a singer. That’s my dream.”

  “Jess, honey, be real,” Mom said. “We’ve talked about this already, quite a few times. It’s okay to have dreams, and your voice is incredible, but the real world isn’t sunshine and rainbows. Singing will never keep you afloat.”

  “That’s not a sound choice, Jessica,” Dad added. “You can’t expect to make a living with it.”

  “Yes, I know very well how low my chances at success are. I know there are thousands—no, millions of singers out there who can’t and will never be able to make it in the music industry, but I don’t want to give up on my dream just because the odds are against me. If everyone gave up because of the odds, we wouldn’t have famous singers—”

  My mom let out an incredulous chuckle. “You don’t understand how hard those people had to work to reach that point. And it’s not just about hard work. It’s about dedication, money, and a lot of sheer luck.”

  I tucked my hair behind my ear. “I know, Mom. I know.”

  “No, Jessica, you don’t know,” Dad replied adamantly. “You have an amazing talent, and you should, by all means, continue singing and making music, but keep it as a hobby. You already have a YouTube channel. You can keep creating music for your channel, but get your priorities straight. You already have a job secured at my firm after you go to school, which will make you good money.”

  “I can also make good money as a singer. In fact, I can earn much, much more if I make it to the top.”

  “If you make it to the top. You said that well. That’s a big ‘if’,” Dad said. “You’re still very young, and I’m sure when you’re older, you’ll be grateful to your mother and me. Singing is not a good career choice. It’s an unsteady income, and you can never know when the things could go down.”

  “Things can go down whichever career I choose, Dad.” I raised my tone, getting frustrated. “If we’re going to be that pessimistic then you also don’t know if your firm will go bankrupt in ten years or not. We don’t know if global warming will kill us all in fifty years or not. No one can be sure about anything these days.

  “But I know I don’t want to spend the rest of my life doing something I hate. I hate the law and everything associated with it. I don’t want to do something I hate for your sake.” I pointed my finger at them.

  “It’s not for our sake,” Mom said. “It’s for your sake—”

  “It’s not for my sake if it makes me unhappy. Do you want me to be unhappy? Do you?” They stayed silent, wearing flinty expressions. “Yes, maybe I’ll be miserably poor. Maybe I’ll never have any success. But I’ll be at peace with myself because I’ll be doing everything I can to make my dreams come true. I won’t be sitting in some office and wishing I was out there singing. I won’t be withering away with regret as the years go by and my dreams just disappear.”

  My mom sighed. “Look, Jess, I understand that this period in your life is extremely stressful, and you might even feel cornered. College decisions put a lot of pressure on students because it’s a huge step toward adulthood, and it can make you confused. But we’re here to support you and—”

  “I accepted the admission to a music college in New York,” I said, deadpan.

  The expression of shock settled on their faces. I dug my nails into my palms. I’d done it. I’d finally told them the truth. I was terrified, but the words had liberated me, removing the tension from my body layer by layer, and I could breathe a bit easier.

  I could look in the mirror and be proud of myself for fighting for who I was at last. This was me, and I wasn’t going to allow them to shape me into something I wasn’t.

  “I’m not confused. I know what I want, from the bottom of my heart. I declined your college’s offer, Dad,” I said, watching his face go pale. “I know this is disappointing for you, but I’ve made my decision. And I really, really hope you’ll be able to support it one day.”

  “You…” Mom made a choking sound. “You declined the offer? But…” She kneaded the space between her eyebrows with two fingers.

  “Jessica, why didn’t you talk to us first?” Dad asked, and I winced at the reproach in his tone. His face was the picture of disappointment, just like I’d thought it would be, but the impact it had on me was stronger than I’d imagined it’d be. I was ready to go to a music college against their approval, but I’d hoped they would at least try to understand me and wish me the best.

  “Because I knew you would react like this,” I replied. “You wouldn’t let me major in music. Please understand. I was ready to give up on my dreams and follow your wishes, but it would make me miserable. I just want to be me. I want to live my life the way I want it, with all its ups and downs.”

  I thought about Emma, whose life had ended before it even started. I thought about Blake, who was ready to sacrifice his life, never even giving himself the chance to live and realize his dreams. Did he even have dreams? Or had those been lost in the same darkness that had swallowed Emma?

  “Life is too short and unpredictable for me to waste my opportunities.” I slid off my chair and took Mom’s hand. “I know you want to protect me and only want the best for me, but please, try to understand me. Maybe I’m young and inexperienced, but I think life is more than just stressing over money. Sure, I’m going to stress about it, maybe even more once I start fighting for my place in the music industry, but at least I will work my hardest to succeed.”

  We sank into silence, and the atmosphere in the kitchen got heavier with tension. I let go of Mom’s hand and supported myself against the kitchen island.

  Dad gave me the stink eye. “It doesn’t matter if we agree with you or not, does it? Because you’ve already accepted the offer. You did everything without even co
nsulting us.”

  I rubbed my chest against the pressure his accusing tone created, battling to keep my eyes on them. “It’s true that maybe I should’ve talked to you first, but have you ever talked to me about what I really want? No, you just assumed I would follow in your footsteps. You never even asked me what I wanted to do in life.” A tear slid down my cheek, and I wiped it off. I wasn’t going to cry. “Please support my decision. Please.”

  Mom shook her head. “I don’t know what you want us to say. You should’ve talked to us about the music college first. This is huge, and I don’t know what to tell you. I want you to be happy. That is the most important for me, but I don’t want you to ruin your life. I need to think about this.”

  “Yes, we need to think this through,” Dad agreed. “You can’t just drop this bomb and expect us to accept it. I’m disappointed, Jessica. I expected better of you.”

  There it was. That word. Disappointment.

  “I…” I wrung my hands together. “I understand.”

  I returned to my waffles even though I didn’t have an appetite anymore. Dad left the kitchen, leaving Mom and me in an uncomfortable silence that neither of us broke. We had yet to discuss the finances, but I knew very well if they refused to support me, I was completely on my own. However, there was a silver lining—at least I’d stayed true to myself.

  Maybe I would ruin my life and make them more disappointed in me, but it was my life, not theirs, and I was done staying in the shadows of my cowardice. My gut told me this was the right decision, and I wasn’t going to let my old doubts trample it down. They would have to understand and accept my feelings eventually, and even if they didn’t, it was all right.

  Because I was finally starting to feel a bit better in my own skin.

  I arrived at school feeling jitters, my heart beating faster at the thought that I could see Blake at any moment. I didn’t know where we stood. So many things were happening at once, speeding up this roller coaster he and I were riding on. We weren’t enemies, but I wasn’t sure if I could even call us friends.

  I wanted us to be friends, at least. I was ready to move on and stop harboring negative feelings for him.

  And I was finally ready to forgive him.

  The night before had provided me with many answers and shed light on who Blake really was. Even though nothing would ever make any of the things he had put me through okay, he wasn’t that horribly cruel person anymore, and it hurt to know he was ready to throw his life away and become something awful—a murderer—in order to find justice for Emma. It hurt that he could lose his life any day.

  A dangerous thought had begun to echo louder than others, putting me in limbo. I was starting to think about saving him, about doing anything to stop him from going through with his plan, which seemed impossible, because what could I do? I was powerless, just a blip on the horizon of hate and anguish he’d held himself in for years.

  I busied myself with festival activities around the school as the day progressed, but he was always on my mind, and I kept looking for him in the crowds that filled the hallways.

  The second day of the festival brought even more people to our school. The booths run by psychologists were a hit, and the sales of the students’ crafts went more than well, but the most anticipated event was a conference similar to TED Talks that was scheduled for noon in the gym, where students were going to share their bullying experiences and invite people to spread understanding and work on unity. Mel was one of the speakers.

  Sar, Kev, Marcus, and I were headed to the gym when I bumped into a short redhead carrying a stack of books in her hands. The books fell on the floor upon the impact, scattering around my feet.

  “I’m sorry,” the blue-eyed girl said with a small smile before bending to pick up her books.

  “It’s nothing,” I said. “I’ll help you.”

  I crouched and reached for the rest, reading their titles: Pained, Trapped, Scarred, and Damaged. I picked them up one by one and placed them on top of the one she held in her hands, which was titled Bullied.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “If you want to buy these or any other books, you can do it over there.” She pointed at the bookstand nearby.

  “Sure.”

  “See you around,” she said then walked away.

  We passed through a crowd of students, and I noticed a few of them casting curious glances at Kev and Marcus, who held hands. I smiled to myself because they didn’t let anyone or anything interfere with their relationship. People could talk and point fingers at them as much as they wanted, but love prevailed, and only that mattered.

  I was glad Kevin was starting to accept himself for who he was. It was inspiring and beautiful seeing him get his happy ending because that cute cinnamon roll deserved it more than anyone.

  I wondered where mine was.

  The bleachers were already half-filled when we entered the gym. We took seats in the third row, and I waved at Mel, who stood on the stage next to Shreya Wilkins and the rest of the student council. She waved back with a grin.

  Blake, Hayden, and Masen entered the gym moments later, and relief flooded through me because Blake had showed up. I’d been worried he wouldn’t seeing how shaken he’d been after his nightmare. I didn’t even realize I was holding my breath until they came over and my eyes locked with his. Instantly, the room narrowed to the two of us. His face was serious, but there was heat in his gaze, warming my body, and I was taken back to his room at sunset. I remembered vividly each caress, each kiss, each moment spent in his arms… I couldn’t look away from him, longing to touch him.

  Hayden and Masen went over to sit next to Sarah, while Blake took the empty seat next to me, and my heart began pounding. I stared straight ahead, unable to look at him. I was hyperaware of his every move.

  “Hi,” he said.

  My cheeks flushed. “Hi,” I croaked out.

  It was ridiculous. He’d seen all of me—kissed all of me—yet there I was, blushing furiously at one simple greeting.

  No, it wasn’t simple. Nothing about Blake was simple, and the thought that he was so close to me, his knee touching mine and his hand resting so close to my thigh…it was impossible not to want that hand on me.

  I tried to focus on anything else but him, listening to Marcus and Kev on my other side talk about whether Kylo Ren was hotter than Anakin Skywalker, but it was pointless. My mind was all about Blake. Blake, Blake, Blake.

  “You look strange. Are you okay?” he asked, his breath fanning my face because he was leaning toward me. It was difficult not to look back at him when he was this close. Of course I look strange when all I want is to kiss you and get those clothes off you—

  “I think that’s the question I should ask you.” I tugged at the hem of my shirt. “I was worried about you.”

  “Why?”

  I stared at the loose thread on the seam of my jeans. “You know why.”

  “It’s something I’ve dealt with for four years now,” he said quietly, so only I could hear him. “I went through much worse than what you saw, so don’t worry about me.”

  “I have to worry about you.”

  I could feel him smile. “Because that’s what you do. You worry about people and want to help them.”

  “It’s impossible not to worry about the people you care about,” I let out, my face warming.

  I saw him watch me out of the corner of my eye in a prolonged silence that caused my pulse to go wild.

  “How about you?” he asked.

  “Me?”

  “Who’s going to help you?”

  I stifled the strangled sound that wanted to come out of my throat and finally looked at him. His lips were curled into a tiny smile, and I found myself staring at them. I wanted to kiss him. A lot.

  “What’s with that sudden question?”

  “I was thinking about it last night. I thought about how I’ve never helped you with anything.”

 
“You helped me when that guy pushed me in the hallway.”

  “That’s nothing.”

  “That’s everything.” I looked away from his suddenly fervid gaze and tucked my hair behind my ears. “Besides, you don’t have to help me. I can help myself. It’s high time I stop relying on others to help me.”

  “Yes, but still…”

  “Still what?”

  His eyes darted between my lips and eyes. “I want to be there for you. I wish I could be there for you.”

  I closed my eyes. “But you can’t.” I didn’t add the word that was hanging between us like a guillotine blade: revenge.

  He opened his mouth to say something, but one of the teachers tapped the microphone and called for our attention. The whole gym went quiet, and I tried to focus on her and not on Blake’s eyes that didn’t leave my face.

  She made an introductory speech, and then Mel took her place behind the mike and started her speech, talking about how important bystanders were.

  “They can make a difference,” Mel said in a strong, unwavering voice. “It’s extremely important to help people in need instead of just ignoring it. Bullying can scar someone for life. Just imagine what it’s like to be bullied every single day. Just imagine how it feels when bystanders just watch the abuse and do nothing to stop it.

  “Do you know that suicide and bullying are closely connected? Do you know that suicide is now the second leading cause of death among teens and young adults? Most often, our help can make all the difference. It can change lives and give hope to people who need it the most. So, let’s help. Let’s show those in need that life is more than days filled with hopelessness and cruelty.”

  The applause spread through the room, and I smiled with pride at Mel. She was so inspiring.

  Blake shifted closer to me, and I grew still. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you last night,” he whispered directly into my ear, causing tingles to explode all over my skin. I dug my nails into my palms and willed myself to breathe evenly. “I couldn’t stop thinking about your smile. Your kisses. Fuck, those kisses…”