Stay With Me: Diamond In The Rough 3

by Hart, Rebel

  “Can we get you anything else?”

  I paused, reliving the memory of Rae in my bed that morning. “Actually, yes. Do you have computers here for the general public to use?”

  The barista nodded. “Through the doorway in the corner and immediately to the right.”

  “I appreciate it.”

  I took large gulps of the coffee as I walked through the small coffee shop. I did as I was told, and found myself in a small room with seven or eight different computers. All of them were as nice as the ones my father had at the house. It was shocking, really. This dinky little coffeehouse with such up-to-date technology.

  I wasn’t complaining though.

  I sat down in the far corner, thankful that I was tucked away from the world. I opened my notebook and logged in using the log-in information taped across the top of the monitor. After navigating to the web browser, I picked up my pen. I scratched out the two things I’d written last night in my sleepy stupor, then typed in my first search.

  What to do after high school with terrible grades.

  Much to my surprise, a lot popped up. I filtered through the articles and clicked on a couple of them. I scanned through and jotted down some valuable information. The articles I really wanted to read, I emailed to myself. Good reading material if I couldn't sleep again tonight. I jotted down a few things to research. Community colleges in California with the best rates. Scholarships and shit I could get without proving good grades. Jobs I’d be eligible for as an eighteen-year old with a high school diploma.

  Literally, anything that might get me out of this fucking place.

  I didn’t want to stay in Riverbend. And eventually, I’d want out of the state altogether. I needed to get the hell away from this shit. The hell away from my father. The hell away from my life. I needed a fresh start. With people that didn’t know me and police departments that didn’t profile me. My search poured me into an overall state search. States that had the best services for runaway children and had the best social programs to help people get back on their feet.

  And after emailing myself over thirty links to articles to read later, I sat back and stared at the screen as I finished the coffee that reminded me of Rae. Then a thought hit me. A thought that lingered a little too long. A thought I wanted answers to, even if I didn’t follow through with it. So, I typed my question into the internet search bar just to see what would pop up.

  Is it legal for an eighteen-year old to steal from their parents?

  A last ditch effort, just in case nothing else panned out whatsoever.

  4

  Raelynn

  I stood at the entrance to my neighborhood, staring up at the sidewalk. As Michael and Allison walked down to me, I held out hope that Clint might show up. That he might come meet me like we’d done those few times before the accident. Michael kept looking at me with that pity-filled stare and Allison rubbed my back. I shrugged her touch off, tired of their antics and their pity and their bullshit.

  I was tired of everyone’s fucking bullshit.

  Michael sighed. “You know he’s not coming.”

  Allison shushed him. “Come on, let’s get to school before we’re late.”

  “Maybe he’ll show up after lunch. Once he gets some rest.”

  “Or maybe he went to the hospital when he got up this morning. You never know.”

  “Not helping, Allison.”

  “Sorry.”

  I walked aimlessly with them into the school. I peeked over my shoulder just before we walked inside, and there was no trace of him. We took up our usual spot outside of my locker, my head on a swivel for him. And while my heart refused to give up hope, my mind already had. Rationally, my mind knew he wasn’t coming. Maybe not for the rest of the week. Maybe not ever again. I wouldn’t blame him for that, either. Running away and never coming back.

  I wanted to run away and never come back.

  Allison linked her arm through mine. “Come on, it’s homeroom time.”

  I wandered through the day aimlessly. Listlessly. I didn’t pay attention in my morning classes or even take notes. I sat at the back of the classroom and worked on homework, trying to knock it out. Because I knew once I got home, I wouldn't be able to focus. I felt hollow. Empty inside. Like someone had shoveled out my soul and replaced it with helium. I was late to classes because I kept pausing in the hallway, letting my mind take over and memories rip me back into the past.

  I missed Clint more than I could stand.

  My heart continued to remain optimistic, though. Because apparently, torturing me wasn’t enough. I stared out the window of class and counted down the minutes to lunch. That was my only remaining hope. That Clint would simply show up for school late because of a doctor or a need for sleep or another brawl with his father, and I’d see him at lunch. My eyes followed the hands of the clock. My teacher’s voice stayed muted the entire time. After quickly finishing my homework for the night, I abandoned all thought processes and relegated myself to the spinning hell of my mind.

  Of my heart.

  Of the war raging between the two.

  The bell rang and it ripped me from my trance. I gathered up my things and made a beeline for the door and raced toward the cafeteria. My legs carried me as quickly as I could run. I didn’t even bother stopping by my locker to discard my morning books. I wanted to get to Clint as soon as possible. If he was here, I wanted to be the first to greet him.

  But when I turned the corner, I saw the cafeteria completely empty.

  “Huh?”

  A voice cleared itself behind me. “Can I help you?”

  I whipped around, gazing into the eyes of our football coach. He quirked an eyebrow at me. “Skipping class?”

  I paused. “Uh, no. I—it’s lunch time, isn’t it?”

  He furrowed his brow. “No. It’s not. It’s only ten-fifteen.”

  “What?”

  “Are you okay? You look a little pale, Miss…?”

  “Sorry. Uh, sorry. I have to get to class.”

  I rushed past the football coach, feeling his eyes follow me down the hallway. I’d only gotten through first period? I felt disoriented. Confused. I could’ve sworn I’d gone to both of my morning periods before lunch.

  “Rae?”

  I heard our school guidance counselor call out my name. I slowly turned around as tears rushed my eyes. She came over to me, ushering me toward the main office. And before I knew it, we were in her office. With her door closing behind me. As my books fell from my arms.

  While tears streaked my cheeks.

  She handed me tissues and urged me to take a seat in front of her desk. I didn’t want to talk. The last thing I wanted to do was tell anyone else about what was happening. But, she didn’t ask me questions. She simply typed away on her computer, her eyes glued to the screen. Giving me as much privacy as she could while I sobbed my eyes out in her fucking office.

  Like a damn child.

  You are a child.

  I didn’t feel like a child, though. I hadn’t felt like one in years. The shit I’d dealt with. The bullshit my mother put us through. All this insanity with Clint and his father. Children didn’t deal with this. Adults did. Adults tackled these kinds of issues.

  Guess the grass isn’t always greener on the other side.

  I cried until I had no more tears. The guidance counselor—I couldn't recall her name—continued working until my crying subsided. I cried so hard my eyes swelled shut. I slumped into the chair until the back of my neck sat against the top crook of its cushion. I gazed up at the ceiling, wondering what Clint was doing. Wondering where he was.

  Wondering if he was all right.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  I sighed, closing my eyes. “No.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Is it something to do with Clint?”

  I paused. “Why do you ask?”

  “I noticed he’s absent today.”

  “How do yo
u know that?”

  “I have more jobs than tending to the mental and emotional well-being of the student population here.”

  I sighed. “Gotcha.”

  “Would you like some advice?”

  I snickered. “I haven’t told you anything.”

  “Doesn’t mean I don’t have advice.”

  “Sure. Go ahead, then.”

  “Whatever’s going on, address it head-on. Talk to whoever you need to in order to get things cleared up. This is your most important year. This is when you determine plans for college. Nail down your grades for scholarships. Create rapport with teachers who will give you shining recommendations for school. Whatever’s happening that has you so distracted, talk to whoever you need to in order to fix it. Because when it comes to your future, you’re allowed to be selfish.”

  It sounded like some shit out of a self-help book. And yet, it made all the sense in the world. The only problem with her advice was that I couldn't talk to them. Clint wasn’t here, and if even I thought about talking to his father, I was certain he’d beat me into the ground, too. And even if I could get my mother to sit down and have a serious conversation with me about D.J., she’d brush off anything I had to say to her because ‘You’re a teenager and don’t get it.’

  But it was sound advice.

  “Thanks,” I murmured.

  “Anytime. You’re free to go to class whenever you want. But you’re more than welcome to stay here. You know, until another student comes knocking on the door or something.”

  I slowly sat up. “How many students do you see in a day, anyway?”

  She sighed. “More than I like to admit with issues I still can’t believe most days.”

  “In a good way, or…?”

  “‘Or.’ Yes.”

  Guess the grass really isn’t greener on the other side.

  “What time is it?”

  The counselor peeked over at me. “Almost time for the lunch bell.”

  “I’ve been in here that long?”

  “You have, yes.”

  I sighed. “Great.”

  “Do you lose time like this often?”

  “No. Just today.”

  “Another reason why you should unload the stressors off your chest.”

  I nodded. “Yeah. I got it.”

  She grinned. “Just making sure.”

  “Actually, I’d like to ask you something.”

  She turned toward me. “Ask away.”

  “Is it possible for an eighteen-year-old to survive in this world with a high school diploma and nothing else?”

  “Generally speaking? Or is this for something specific?”

  “Just general. I’m curious.”

  She paused. “Uh huh.”

  “Really. I am.”

  “Okay. I’ll bite. Yes, generally speaking, it’s possible to make a good life for oneself without a college degree. But it’s still hard. Most jobs will start people at the very bottom, and make them prove themselves twice over against their college-educated counterparts. And in bigger cities and states like California, that percentage drops significantly.”

  “So what you’re saying is someone who only has a high school degree would have to get out of California before attempting to build a life for themselves.”

  She nodded. “For the greatest overall chance of success, yes.”

  “How can they do that without money?”

  “There’s the catch-22. I’ll let you know once I know.”

  I snickered. “Well, thanks for the advice.”

  “My office is open to you anytime. But can you relay a message to Clint for me?”

  I paused. “Sure.”

  “Tell him college is nothing like high school. Especially a community college. Let him know that even a two-year technical degree would set him up much better than only having a high school diploma.”

  I blinked. “I didn’t ask that question for Clint.”

  “I’m sure you didn’t.”

  She turned to face her computer just as the lunch bell rang. And while part of me was frustrated with her for assuming my position, I couldn't hate her for it. Because she’d been right. Maybe I was frustrated because she was right. Because I’d become so easy for people to read. I gathered my things and made my way for my locker, my mind in knots as I put my books away.

  And pulled out my afternoon books.

  As I made my way for the cafeteria—again—I wondered how long it might take for Clint to come back to school. Or if he’d come back at all. I hoped he did. His grades were slowly doing better. I mean, not by much. He was still a hearty C average student. But the one D he had in history had come up due to his last test score. If he worked really hard at it, he might be able to get some of his classes into the ‘B’ range before the end of the school year. Which would greatly affect his GPA.

  And any chance he had at getting into a two-year technical college out of state somewhere.

  “Hey there, beautiful.”

  “What’s for lunch?”

  “You want me to go through the line for you?”

  “They’ve got discounted sodas today.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You guys can stop hanging off me now.”

  Michael chuckled. “Not our fault you haven’t spoken to us all day.”

  Allison nodded. “Yeah, Rae. We’re worried about you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You should be worried about Clint.”

  Allison furrowed her brow. “What makes you think we’re not?”

  The three of us hopped into the lunch line and I kept my eyes peeled for him. I’d never seen Clint actually eat lunch here. So I kept darting my eyes through the glassless window cutouts of the cement wall that separated the lunch line from the cafeteria dining area. I mindlessly paid for my food, grabbed a Dr. Pepper and headed for our seats in the corner. My backpack lay at my feet and my food stayed untouched as my eyes scanned the room, searching frantically for any sign of Clint.

  But he was nowhere to be found.

  Michael sat in front of me. “Just give him some time.”

  Allison patted my back. “He needs to rest. Recuperate. Process, and all that.”

  I shook my head. “I can’t shake this feeling that something’s just—”

  I didn’t know how to explain it.

  I drew in deep, quick breaths as I cracked open my soda, chugging it back and relishing the burn of the carbonation. I tried to push my tears away, the hurt, the anguish. I didn't want people to see me break down and cry. I had cried in front of the school counselor, and that was enough. I didn’t want the entire school talking about how I’d been bawling my eyes out at lunch over Clinton Fucking Clarke. Since he was nowhere in sight.

  That didn’t bode well for either of us. And told much more of a story than I wanted the school to know.

  Especially since I had no idea what came next.

  5

  Clinton

  After sitting at that damn computer until almost eleven in the morning, I was out the door. I walked up and down the road, trying to figure out where to go or what to do next. No bike. No car. Forty bucks in my pocket. I didn’t want to go home because I didn’t want Cecilia questioning where I’d been or worrying even more about me. And I sure as hell didn’t want to run into my father, just in case he came home from the hospital today.

  I meandered until I came across a familiar sight. The park. That damned park I’d found Rae sitting in that night. I chuckled bitterly to myself. It was as if the world were conspiring against me today. Using everything it could to remind me of the girl I’d left behind. For a good reason.

  Guess the world didn’t care about my reasons.

  I walked over to a bench in the corner, shielded by a few of the trees that still stood in the abandoned place. And as I sat down, I stared at that bench. The bench where Rae and I had our first kiss. Where I first felt her skin against mine. Where I found her, holding back tears and trying to put on a brave face while her entire world caved
around her.

  Like mine.

  “What a fucking mess,” I murmured to myself as I sat down. And the second my ass touched the bench, I felt something stiffen. I felt something preventing me from sitting down and I shot back up. I looked behind me. Had I sat on something? But I didn’t see anything on the bench.

  Holy shit, I have my phone with me.

  I ripped my phone out of my pocket and sat back down. I opened up my email, clicking link after link as I read through the articles. Some of them were bullshit, and some of them were full of help. I pulled my notebook and pen back out, jotting down things on random pages that I wanted to remember. Names of community colleges in the state that would take high school kids with shitty grades. States in the country that would actually provide a free community college education to those who declared residency. I didn’t even know that was a fucking thing, free education.

  By the time I’d read through all those articles, I actually felt hope surge through my veins.

  Maybe I can do this after all.

  My stomach growling pulled me from my trance, so I slipped my phone back into my pocket. I gathered my things and walked back the same way I came, then slipped into the grocery store. Rae’s grocery store. The one where all this bullshit started in the first place. I made my way to the deli and picked up a couple of sandwiches. Some fries. Even grabbed an energy drink from the machine. I felt people staring at me as I went through the line. The line Rae usually worked.

  Only it wasn’t Rae behind the register.

  And I found that I didn’t really like that.

  You miss her.

  I shook the thought away and walked my ass outside. I sat down on a bench near the front doors and tore into the food I’d bought. I wondered what Cecilia was doing. If she was worried about me. I wondered what she was thinking. If she was worried about the status of her marriage with my father. In my eyes? She needed to be more hellbent on taking care of herself. Finding a safe haven to run toward. Finding a way out of this hellhole. Because I knew my father would bring down hell on us all once he got out of that hospital.