Trapped (Bullied Book 4) (Bullied Series)

by Vera Hollins

  “That boy saved your life, Jess,” Dad said. “The least Julie and I can do is thank him in person.”

  I sighed. “Fine. I’ll have him over one of these days. Just don’t interrogate him too much, okay?”

  Mom feigned a shocked gasp. “We would never!” She chuckled.

  Yeah, right. I acted annoyed, but in truth, I was happy. I had their support and approval.

  Things were turning out well after all.

  Blake and I returned to school right after spring break, on Monday, and it was like all eyes were only on us. Wherever I went, people were whispering and watching me, and even more so when I was with Blake. They wanted to know the details of our kidnapping, and some of them even asked Blake if he’d seen any lights or his body from above in some weird out-of-body experience when he died, looking at him like he was some mythical creature.

  Like that wasn’t enough, the whole school knew Blake and I were dating, and it was a hot piece of gossip. Girls didn’t stop staring at me, and I felt more self-conscious as the day went on.

  “Did you want to disappear when everyone found out you and Hayden were together?” I asked Sar on our way to the cafeteria, glancing between her and him. “Because people are staring at me. A lot.”

  “Yep,” she answered. “It was embarrassing, but they stopped staring that much eventually.”

  “That much, huh?” I let out a nervous chuckle.

  “Don’t pay attention to them,” Hayden told me in his even tone of voice. “They’re just jealous.”

  I sighed. “I’m not so sure about that.”

  “What do you mean?” Sar asked.

  “I know I shouldn’t feel this way, but I…” I blushed. “I kinda feel inadequate as Blake’s girlfriend. The way some girls look at me…it’s like he deserves someone much, much prettier.”

  “You’re right,” Hayden said, and I snapped my eyes to him, mortified, but then he continued, “You shouldn’t feel that way.” My chest deflated in relief. “Because Blake doesn’t care about that. He likes you the way you are, and who gives a fuck what others think?”

  My blush intensified. I knew that. I was taking baby steps when it came to self-acceptance and body positivity. I knew I was going to have setbacks from time to time, but I wasn’t going to let it drag me down anymore. I was pushing forward, and I knew one day, whether I had more or less pounds, I was going to love my body just the way it was.

  “I know. I just have to learn to ignore all their stares and mean comments.”

  “I’ve seen the way he looks at you,” Sarah said, her eyes glimmering. “Believe me, he’s crazy about you.”

  “You got that right,” Blake said from behind us as he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into him. I sank back, my pulse starting to pound.

  Blake liked to cuddle. He used every opportunity he could to touch my hair, kiss my forehead, or hug me, and he loved when I initiated our kisses. That was why I pressed a quick kiss to his lips over my shoulder, more than aware of the dozen pairs of eyes homed in on us from all sides.

  “Hello to you too,” I said to him. I noticed the darker tint to his eyes as he looked at my lips. He wore a black cap, which hid the bandage that covered his wound, and it only made his delectable gray eyes stand out more in the shadow of the bill. The previous paleness of his face was replaced with a healthy color, and the bruises on his cheeks were faded and scarce. It was incredible how quickly he’d gone back to normal, after only a week.

  He looked at the blonde next to us, who stared open-mouthed. “What are you looking at?” he snapped. “You’ve never seen two people kiss each other?” She blushed and scurried away.

  Hayden looked at Blake with amusement. “I’ll quote you,” he drawled. “‘You might want to fuck each other later, when there’s no audience.’”

  Blake tightened his grip around me. “Fuck you, princess.”

  Hayden narrowed his dark eyes at him. “Wanna say that again with a broken jaw?”

  “No more injuries, okay, guys?” Sarah said before kissing Hayden’s cheek. “First you with the car accident and getting jumped out, and now Blake. Both of you have already gone through more than enough.”

  Hayden said something, but I didn’t hear him, because the words “jumped out” got stuck in my mind. Only now did I remember that Blake was still in the gang, and to get out—if he wanted out—he would have to get jumped out too. That was the only way T, their gang leader, would allow him to leave.

  My stomach plummeted. I sneaked a glance at Blake and dug my nails into my suddenly cold palms. I couldn’t lose him. Not a chance.

  More eyes landed on us when we entered the lunchroom, but I was hardly aware of them. Kev and Marcus waited for us at our table, and I waved at them, feigning enthusiasm.

  “Are you okay?” Sarah asked me quietly.

  I pulled her closer, letting Blake and Hayden join the line first, and whispered in her ear, “Is there really no other way out of the gang except getting jumped out?”

  Her brow furrowed as understanding dawned on her. She looked at Blake. “Did he say he wants out?”

  “He didn’t, but if he does, he has to go through that, right?”

  She sighed. We stopped behind Blake and Hayden, who were talking to each other, but not close enough to hear our whispers.

  “He can leave Enfield. We’re graduating in two months, so that could be his chance to escape from here until they forget about him.”

  I bit my lip and took a look at the food choices with no interest. I’d already lost my appetite. “But that’s a big if. What if they never forget about him? Would he need to hide forever? What if they wait for him to come back and hurt him for leaving? What if—”

  “What are you rambling about?” Hayden asked, looking at me over his shoulder, and I blushed.

  “Nothing,” I said. I didn’t want to talk about it now. I met Blake’s gaze, unsure if they had heard anything.

  There was always a chance Blake didn’t want to leave the gang. He’d said he’d never cared about college, and if his life in the gang provided him with coping mechanisms for his PTSD, he would most likely stay there. I didn’t know how to feel about that.

  We took our food and continued to our table. Kev and Marcus were in the middle of their conversation about Marvel superheroes when we arrived.

  “Superheroes are boring,” Hayden declared as he put his tray on the table and sat across from them.

  I sat down between Blake and Sarah. This was Blake’s first time to sit at our table, which did something unusual to my heart. It was such progress compared to just a few weeks earlier.

  “They’re not boring.” Marcus popped a piece of his steak in his mouth. “Captain America rocks. And he’s super sexy.” He winked at Kev.

  Kev blushed and righted his glasses. “Yeah. Chris Evans is, is, is eye candy.”

  Blake rolled his eyes. “Scarlett Johansson is eye candy.”

  I gaped at him. Did all guys have the hots for her? She was all my cousins talked about. Her and Megan Fox. “Really?”

  He shrugged, chuckling at my expression. “What? She even reminds me of you, although you’re much, much hotter than her.” He accentuated that by running the tip of his finger over my mouth before he kissed me, slowly and heatedly.

  A groan sounded near us, and I looked up to see Masen rolling his eyes before he, surprisingly, flopped down next to Marcus and lowered his tray to the table as if he’d always sat here.

  “Pussy-whipped,” he said to Blake, but there was none of the usual casualness or cockiness in his demeanor. He was pissed off. “So, what now? We’re going to sit here with your chicks?” He looked at Blake and Hayden with more-than-evident displeasure on his face. “Pussies.”

  Hayden glowered at him, fisting his hand on the table. “Nobody forces you to sit here, so fuck off if you don’t like it.”

  “What’s going on with you?” Blake asked him. “You didn’t get to jack off last night or what?”

 
I blushed as I glanced at Sar, Kev, and Marcus. They looked sheepish too as they observed the interaction.

  Masen dug his fork into his food. “It’s that nutcase. She deserved what she got.”

  “She?” I asked, hoping he wasn’t actually referring to Mel.

  He looked at me the same way he had when I’d helped Eli with the apples. “Your crazy friend, Melissa.”

  “She’s not crazy,” Sar said.

  I frowned. “What happened?”

  “What will happen is that I’m going to kill this degenerate asshole slowly and painfully, and I’m going to enjoy every second of it,” Mel said, appearing behind Masen with her hands on her hips. She looked at us. “What is he doing at our table? He better teleport his ass away, or I’m going to eat somewhere else.”

  Masen sprang to his feet and got into her face. “Make me. Not that you can do much now that you’re suspended.”

  Say what?

  “Okay, what’s going on?” Sarah asked, already on her feet.

  “You’re suspended?” I asked Mel in a high-pitched voice.

  “Of course she’s suspended,” Masen sneered. “That’s what she gets for punching Steven and acting all aggressive.”

  Whoa, whoa, whoa. “What?” I asked dumbly. She’d punched her brother again?

  Mel looked at me; her features were briefly shadowed with hurt before she schooled them into blandness. “Steven said some things, and I just snapped.”

  Masen chuckled. “She just ‘snapped.’” He made the air quotes, gloating. “Yeah, right. It’s too bad the principal showed up right then.”

  She glared at him with her bared teeth. She looked on the verge of hitting him, but then she glanced around the cafeteria. The new lunch monitors seemed ready to intervene at any moment, so if she did anything, she would only make things worse for herself.

  “No, it’s too bad you had to show up with her and make things worse,” she said to Masen. “You lied through your teeth. You actually told her I punch students all the time and have aggression issues, you pile of cow crap.”

  My eyes got even wider. I glanced at Sarah, who looked as confused as I was.

  Masen shrugged his shoulders. “Where’s the lie in that? You do have aggression issues, and you hit your brother all the time.”

  Veins bulging out on her temples, she pushed against his shoulder and raised her fist like she was going to punch him any moment now. “I dare you to say that again. I dare you.” Masen looked over her shoulder and smirked.

  “Hey.” One of the lunch monitors stopped behind Mel. “What’s going on here?”

  Masen cocked his eyebrow smugly. “And I dare you to hit me. Maybe that will finally get you expelled.”

  “If you don’t stop right this moment, you’re going to the principal’s office,” the lunch monitor said, scowling at Mel and Masen.

  “Mel, listen to him,” Sarah told her. “You’re already suspended, so don’t make things worse.”

  Mel didn’t look at anyone but Masen, glaring at him like she wanted to pummel him into nothing. The aversion was thick between them, and when she lowered her hand and unclenched it, it looked like it took everything in her to do just that and not sock him.

  “I’ll wipe that smug smirk off your face if it’s the last thing I do,” she said under her breath then spun on her heel to leave.

  “Mel!” I called after her, already moving to reach her.

  “Don’t follow me,” she tossed over her shoulder. “I’m going home.” She rushed out of the cafeteria, leaving the whole table in heavy silence.

  Sarah frowned at Masen. “That was a low blow.”

  Masen sat down, looking at her coolly. “A low blow? She’s like a rabid dog, and no one does anything to stop her. She deserves this.”

  “No, she doesn’t,” I told him. “She’s going through a difficult time with her parents in the middle of their divorce, so cut her some slack.”

  “So, what—we all have to let her treat us like punching bags just because she has issues? You can forget about that.”

  “You’re the same,” I told him, and his face dropped. A sliver of danger flashed in his eyes. “You also have issues—”

  “You better think twice before you say anything, Metts,” he told me, and I remembered his warning. I wasn’t supposed to say anything about Eli.

  “And you better stop talking to her like that,” Blake growled.

  I took his hand. “It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not okay,” Blake said. “You have some big-ass issues with Brooks? That’s fine, but don’t get Jessica wrapped up in that clusterfuck.”

  Masen looked between Blake and me with a clenched jaw in silent anger, and I expected him to start arguing, but then he threw a big smile on his face and winked at us. “Whatever, man. We’re cool.”

  For a few moments, I could only gape at him, reminded of Mel. She was the same. She could hide her real feelings in a second, acting like her charming, usual self despite how hurt she actually was on the inside, and it was scary how good both of them were at that. During the rest of the lunch, Masen’s smile didn’t vanish, his crude jokes, laughter, and charm filling the conversation, and it was like nothing had happened.

  I massaged my temples, thoroughly confused by Mel and Masen. Things were definitely going to be challenging between them, maybe even more than they were now, and I didn’t have the faintest idea how it would all work out.

  “You’ve come a long way, Jessica,” Susan told me, placing her clipboard on the upholstered arm of her chair. “I’m impressed by your will to improve despite the setbacks along the way.”

  I looked at my chipped pink nail polish. “I still feel like I have a long way to go. I feel like I could fail if I don’t try hard enough.”

  “It’s okay to be afraid. Just don’t stop. I’m amazed that you’re this determined after what you went through a week ago. That can take a toll on a person.”

  It’s okay to be afraid. Just don’t stop. It was strange how the way Blake pushed through his life with PTSD could be inspiring for someone as easily disheartened as me. I had him to look up to whenever I thought about quitting because even in his darkest moments, he had the strength to stand up and keep walking. So I was going to keep walking and make something out of myself.

  “Yes, it took a toll on me, but it also helped me realize, in a way, that I have so much to be happy about. I have my family, my friends, my boyfriend.” I smiled, and a faint blush painted my cheeks. “I have my music and hobbies. I’m healthy and alive. I have so many reasons to be happy. I took everything for granted, but now I see how lucky I am to have all of this.”

  “You’re absolutely right. You have so many reasons to be happy. How about your body? Do you feel happy?”

  I inhaled deeply as I glanced at her golden pencil that now lay still on top of her clipboard. “It would be a lie if I said I don’t want to change anything about myself.”

  I looked at my stomach. I was wearing a tight-fitting shirt that didn’t hide my fat rolls, and I imagined a waist without them. Unlike before, that image didn’t bring me painful longing whenever I thought about it. I wanted a thinner waist, but I wasn’t beating myself up about it or blaming my body for not being the way I wanted it to be. I was good enough like this.

  “I’m learning not to compare myself to others and to set realistic expectations for myself. The build of my body clearly doesn’t allow me to have a thigh gap or smaller hips, and I’m just learning to accept it and move on. We can’t have everything in life, and that’s okay.” I glanced at my lush breasts that were even more prominent now that I was wearing a push-up bra, and I thought about Sarah. “My friend once told me she wished for bigger breasts like mine, which is ironic since I wish for a slim body like hers. We always want something we can’t have, right? And it seems like it’s really hard to be satisfied with what we already have.

  “It’s like shopping. You buy one thing, and it’s not enough. You always want something
new, something more expensive, something prettier. I always wanted a better and prettier body, but now I just want to slow down and appreciate myself for who I am. I want to stop considering my physical flaws something to be ashamed of.

  “Actually, I don’t want to consider them flaws at all. Why are they flaws? Why is my cellulite or body fat a flaw? Unless my weight deteriorates my health, why should I be against my thicker thighs or thick waist? Why should society be against my thicker thighs or thick waist? And I don’t want to punish myself with throwing up or guilt-tripping. I don’t want to punish myself for the way I am. One day, maybe, I’ll reach my desired weight. Maybe I’ll never get to that, but no matter what, I want to be free of regret and self-dissatisfaction. And I’m working on it. One step at a time.”

  She watched me with approval written all over her face, her soft smile growing bigger.

  “You’ve really come a long way,” she repeated. “I’m amazed at the difference between before and now, and I’m certain one day you’ll get there. Just focus on yourself and don’t let outside voices conquer you. You’re your own biggest strength and support.”

  That ended our session, and I exited her office feeling more positive than before. The week had been chaotic, but life went on, and time would heal the wounds.

  Blake, who’d had his session at the same time as me, was already waiting for me in the waiting room. His lips turned up into a radiant smile when he saw me, which made his gorgeous face even more beautiful, if that was possible. I noticed with a flutter in my chest that he smiled and laughed more often now.

  These days hadn’t been easy for him either, because that Sunday had exposed him to an insane amount of stress, which had led to new nightmares and flashbacks. But according to him, it hadn’t been as bad as it could’ve been. He was on antidepressants that did their job well, which, combined with the time we spent together, amounted to him being in a much calmer state than usual.

  “Finished?” He stood up and left a kiss on my forehead.

  “Yep. Let’s go.”

  We walked hand in hand outside and got in my car, the sunset creating a cozy picture in the distance.