Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CADENCE
In an annoying twist, from the moment I time Drake’s morning swim, he stops taking them. Each day, I wake early, listening for the telltale sounds of his door slamming. Each day, I admit defeat and scamper into the shower to get prepped for school, deflated.
Even Arnold notices. On Friday morning—the third day of dashed expectations—he jokes, “Too cold for you, son?” and Drake shrugs in answer.
My nervous system would be at breaking point except Mum’s observation turned out to be prescient.
There really is something sleep-inducing about the sea air and the crashing boom of the ocean. It’s peaceful knowing any dangers are safely locked outside, an alarm staying vigilant, so we don’t have to.
I still want my pills back, but with each night more restful than the last, the urgency fades… just like the writing on my sternum. It turns into a matter of pride rather than necessity.
If Drake weren’t such a gigantic dick, I might even thank him.
A very big if.
I pin my hopes on Saturday but when Raelene queries his plans over breakfast, he says he’ll stick around home all day.
“Don’t want to get caught somewhere and have to call off our family dinner,” he explains, catching my eye with a malicious twinkle.
I’m heaping Greek yoghurt on my muesli when Arnold comes to the connecting door, frowning. “Cadence? I’d like a word?”
Drake makes a tsk sound and I shoot him my middle finger, reverting to an eight-year-old.
“Have I done something wrong?” I ask, voice suitably chastened as Arnold escorts me into the lounge. I haven’t seen him upset before and my hand instinctively curves around my neck.
“You put a stained white blouse in the hamper rather than giving it straight to Emily.” He pushes the offending garment at me, traces of the fatty mayonnaise residue and orange sauce still showing on the front despite it being laundered.
“I’m sorry.” My fingers pinch at the skin on my throat, plucking it as my emotions overreact until I want to cry. “Someone pushed me in the cafeteria.”
His expression tightens further. “I don’t care how it happened. What I care about is that on Monday, this was a perfectly good blouse. Now it’s ruined.”
My gaze drops to the floor, and he pinches my arm.
Hard.
“Look at me when I’m talking to you.”
Startled, I meet his gaze. Alarmed at the pain and the change from the mild-mannered man I’ve grown used to seeing.
“I d-didn’t know,” I stammer, my head thumping worse every second. “I’m sorry. Of course, I’ll check with her immediately in the future.” He still appears angry, and I add, “I’ll pay to replace it,” not having the slightest idea how I’d manage that.
His posture softens, and he pulls me into a one-armed hug, the usual calm smile back in place. “That’s okay, you don’t need to do that. I’m sorry for yelling but I can’t stand waste. It infuriates me when perfectly good items are ruined because of a moment’s laziness.”
When he lets go, he frowns again, this time with concern.
“Is someone picking on you at school? If you’re being bullied, I can take the day off work next week and come into the office to discuss it with the headmaster.”
“Oh, um… No, it was just a bump. Some kids fooling around too close to the waste bins.”
“Okay.” His feet angle towards the kitchen, then he pauses. “You know you can always come to me if you’re having trouble. Just because I enjoy work doesn’t mean I won’t make time for you or your mother. I’ll drop anything in an instant if you need me.”
The bombardment of concern after the viciousness of a few seconds before leaves me reeling. “Thank you, but I’m not in trouble.” I give him a wide smile. “I haven’t been there nearly long enough for that.”
He laughs, putting a hand on my arm to shake me, then strides back to his place at the table, losing himself in his tablet, scrolling through the online papers.
I tug down my sleeves, covering the reddening mark, and go back to my seat. Even with my head lowered, I can feel Drake’s eyes bore into the top of my skull.
DRAKE
When we enter the restaurant, Raelene reminds me of a bird, head darting in all directions as she takes notice of every detail. She exclaims over the artwork, the plants, the solid rimu tables that would never dare be unstable enough to require a coaster underneath their leg.
Even the overhead lighting gets an enthusiastic mention.
It’s not until I see the same hesitant curiosity on Cadence’s face that I understand it’s not just this place. They probably haven’t been to any fine-dining restaurant, and I don’t know why the idea takes me by surprise.
Until Arnold brought me home, my only sit-down meal had been a local McDonalds for a treat.
I rub my abdomen as my muscles pull tight.
This could have been genuine. A nice evening out to celebrate their arrival. I could have shared their enthusiasm, taken pride in their pleasure instead of using it as a fuck-you to Hudson. A roadblock to Cadence.
My eyes fix to my water glass as the waiter takes our drink orders, leaving us with leather bound menus, most meal options in the triple digit range. The drink prices are so extravagant they make me laugh.
“Why is there so much cutlery?” Cadence whispers, face pinching with worry. She seems cowed by the decadence. Shoulders hunching when a waiter walks behind her. Picking at her nails.
“They’ll take away what you don’t need.” Her expression doesn’t alter, and my attitude thaws.
“You work your way from the outside to the inside,” I explain, tapping my way across the gleaming silver. “But if you’re concerned, just follow my lead when the food arrives.”
She wrinkles her nose, and I lean closer, my lips nearly brushing her ear. “And if we’re wrong, it doesn’t matter. We’re the ones paying them to be here. The staff have to be polite.”
A light laugh greets my statement, and she risks a glance around the other tables.
It’s weird to see her reticent when what I remember best of her younger self is the boldness. Always ready to climb through a gap in the fence first if there was the temptation of something fun on the other side. Playing games as rough and tumble as any boy on the field.
Never minding dirt or muck or the panting heat of physical exertion.
Just like a boy only better, decoding moods and adjusting her emotional responses and suggestions on the fly.
I used to love prodding her into telling a lie, enjoying how colour spread from her chest to her neck, creeping with silent stealth across her cheeks.
She never got a handle on the art of deception.
It’s refreshing to interact with someone who couldn’t be insincere if she tried.
The waiter leans across, using a long, narrow lighter on the candles. Cadence jerks back in her chair, hands fisting in her lap, then twisting the heavy napkin into a rope.
Arnold frowns and I put a hand on her leg to comfort her without thinking. A reassurance that she throws off, abruptly standing. “I need the bathroom.”
And Raelene rises in solidarity. “I’ll come, too.”
A pulse of pain hits behind my eyes and I rub my scalp, fingers finding the scar from my childhood injury, teasing the puckered line. Nobody else knows it’s there, my hair easily covers it, but Arnold’s thinning pate could well be a glimpse of the future.
When they return, Cadence and her mum are in a far better mood, giggling when Arnold cracks a groanworthy dad joke.
“How are you finding Ashcroft Crest?” Raelene asks me as another round of drinks arrive. “Your dad told me there was some trouble before you transferred.”
My foot bumps against Cadence’s and she shifts in her seat, moving her legs farther away.
“That sounds like the polite way of saying I got sent to correctional boot camp.” I lean back in my chair, extending my legs then sweeping one to the side, finding my target even though she’s hiding. This time, when she tries to shift out of range, I follow her, lightly stamping on her shoe to hold her in place.
If it’s good enough for Hudson, it’s good enough for me.
“Was it awful?”
I shrug, brushing off the dislocating loneliness of those three months like they’re nothing. “They taught me a few things, though I’m not sure starting a fire with sticks or a pair of glasses will ever come in handy.”
My foot rises, curling along the inside of Cadence’s leg. Her chair squeaks on the polished floorboards as she tries to move out of range but a second later, I’ve found her again.
“The worst part was the unfairness.”
“What do you mean?”
Arnold gives a false laugh, taking Raelene’s hand in his. “We really don’t need to hash over this.”
“That’s okay,” I interrupt. “It’s nothing I’m ashamed of. A friend of mine at school, a girl, was given drugs and I confronted the person who gave them to her. Maybe I was heavy-handed, but it’s galling that I lost three months of my freedom for trying to do the right thing.”
Cadence stiffens beside me, and I flex against her leg, trapping her in place.
“When I told the school what happened, they sided with the dealer. Can you believe it?”
“No,” Cadence snaps.
I press my lips together, enjoying her discomfort. An unease that grows when I put my hand on her thigh, this time with deliberate intent. “But it’s the truth.”
“That’s appalling. It mightn’t be much comfort, but I’m sure karma will catch up with them.” Raelene leans towards me, oozing with sympathy. “Hopefully, you’ve found a better reception at your new school.”
Judging from her response, she believes me wholeheartedly, and I wonder what my father has told her.
As little as possible, I’m guessing.
“What about you, Cadence?” I turn towards her, using the movement to slide my hand farther up her leg, dragging her skirt along with it, exposing most of her thigh. “We don’t share a lot of classes but do you like Ashcroft?”
“It’s very nice.” Her voice wobbles a little as my fingers creep past her hem, drawing light circles on her skin, feeling her tremble. “And the students have been so welcoming. Especially, Hudson. It’s lucky to have such a friendly neighbour.”
Her fork clatters to the floor and she shoves my arm while bending to retrieve it. I hold on tight and next minute, the prongs dig into my hand.
Fuck, it’s painful.
“That is definitely the wrong fork,” I mutter, snatching it away from her and signalling to a passing waitress. “Could we have a new—Stacey?”
The pretty blonde girl is from Alabaster. Maybe two years ahead, but she recognises me all the same. “Drake!”
I stand as she gives me a hug, then hold out the fork. “Sorry, I just need to grab a clean one. This one fell on the floor.”
She turns and I follow, chatting with her at the bar counter as she takes a replacement from the drawer. When I glance back to the table, Cadence stares at us with a frown, eyes slightly narrowed.
It’s probably the lighting but from this distance, I could swear she looks upset. Almost… jealous?
I can work with that.
“Could I grab your number? It’d be good to catch up properly.”
“Sure.” She tilts her head. “You don’t mind?”
“Your reputation?” Even back at high school, the rumour mill insisted she was a sex worker. When she nods, my grin broadens. “Considering what some of my friends get up to, it’s no problem.”
Given the response from my table, it might even be an asset.
When I take my seat again, Cadence grips hold of a knife, and I decide playing with her isn’t worth the risk. Not with my hand already throbbing.
“Another friend of yours?” Arnold asks and I nod.
“Yeah. I haven’t seen her in a couple of years, but we used to hang around together.”
“She’s very pretty,” Raelene says, glancing over her shoulder to double-check.
When the waiter arrives with our food, Cadence looks grateful for the distraction. It feels like a victory as her gaze slowly creeps back to watch Stacey wait on her tables.
Sitting so close, there’s no mistaking the flash of envy this time and I won’t lie.
It feels bloody good.