Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CADENCE
Hudson takes us on a winding journey as he drops his second youngest brother at the boy’s primary school, checking he’s got his lunch in his backpack and ruffling his hair before he shoos him away.
“Why’s he at school so early?” Their usual starting time is at least fifteen minutes before ours.
“Oh, it’s a big day in Robbie’s life,” Hudson says with a grin as he signals, then merges into the crowded lane of traffic. “He’s been appointed to the crossing guard team and takes his duties very seriously.”
When I make noises about how sweet that is, he winks. “We’ve all got bets on how long he takes to realise he’s basically an unpaid intern.”
I collapse into laughter, envious of the strong sibling bond his family share. “You’re so mean. How much is the betting pool up to?”
“You want to make a wager, hm?” He shakes his head, feigning disappointment. “And here I thought you were the nice one of your lot.”
The moment he pulls to a stop at the controlled intersection, I smack his thigh. “I am the nice one.”
His wide grin makes my stomach perform a slow loop, the deep pounamu green of his eyes such a vibrant offset to his strawberry blond hair that I wish he’d lean over and kiss me.
But the lights change and far too soon we’re pulling into the student parking lot, where he takes a spot near the street. “That’s cool,” I say, teasing him. “We can walk to the school from here.”
“All part of my dastardly plan,” he murmurs, taking my hand. His long fingers tug me towards the main quad. “Not only do I get to hold on to you for longer, but everyone gets to see you with me.”
He presses a soft kiss to the back of my hand while my mind dissects his statement. “Is it important you be seen with me?”
“Unless you want to spend the day fighting off potential suitors.”
“Oh, yeah,” I scoff, wrinkling my nose while he shrugs. But I’m happy to indulge his burst of possessiveness, especially since there’s almost certain to be no interest from any other quarter.
A certainty that soon falls by the wayside as I notice a lot of eyes turning our way.
“Why is everyone staring?”
“Because you’re the prettiest girl in school.”
“Right.” I snort, then clap my free hand over my face in embarrassment.
If anything, Hudson’s eyes sparkle brighter. “It’s nice you’re warding off the unwanted attention.”
“Always keen to do my part.”
The glances continue as we reach the school courtyard, and my nerves pull tauter with every stare. “Nobody has even looked my way before today,” I mutter under my breath, not even sure if Hudson can hear me.
“Maybe that’s because they’re all slow at seeing what I could see the first time we met.”
“Which is?”
He stops to open the door into the main corridor, letting go of my hand long enough to wave me through first, taking it again the moment he catches up to my side. “That you’re the prettiest girl here, and anyone who doesn’t think that is a fool.”
“Sure.” I mean it as sarcasm but the longer we walk through the hallways of the main building, the more boys stare. It sets me on edge more than the Hudson’s flowery praise.
I turn into the corridor, then immediately backtrack.
“Problem?”
“Drake’s talking to Gretchen.”
He’s made no attempt to hide his disdain for my friend and the development fills me with suspicion. Either he’s planning some new torture, or his anger is the disguise for a completely different emotion.
The same jealousy that pitted my stomach at the restaurant recurs now. Even stronger.
Then I shake my head. He’s not that good a liar. “Why would he do that?”
“Um… because they go to the same school?”
I frown until Hudson pushes me behind him. “Want me to check the coast’s clear?” he asks, then sticks his head around the corner as conspicuously as possible, making me laugh until I’m close to crying.
“You’re such a weirdo.”
“Oh, yeah. I’m the weirdo. Not the boy you live with who likes to smoke weed and sleep in his car.”
“Fine. All males are weird.”
He waggles his eyebrows, and I put my palm flat against his chest in a teasing push.
“You know I could totally take him in a fight. There’s no need to lurk around the corner like you’re scared of him.” He puffs out his chest. “I’ll defend you.”
“And get kicked out of school? I haven’t memorised the school rules, but I clearly remember paragraphs dedicated to violence and how it won’t be tolerated.”
“If I’m not mistaken”—Hudson nods to Drake as he stalks past—“you’re now free to approach your locker. Would you like me to come with you?”
The warning bell for class goes and I shake my head. “I think I’ll survive alone.”
He cups my shoulder for a brief second before striding away, heading for the mathematics block. My first lessons are a Fiction Writing elective, then English, both in the language block on the opposite side of the school.
Gretchen waits at her locker as I approach, but the stiff set of her shoulders makes me wary.
“Good morning,” I say, trying to conceal my worry about what Drake has told her. “Your hair looks fantastic.”
It does. She’s dyed the tips dark blue, and they bring out the highlights in her eyes.
A smile glances across her lips, quickly replaced by a frown. “You told me you hadn’t met Blaine before.”
Is that all?
“Yeah, I didn’t realise. He went by Drake at our—”
“I watched you stare at him through binoculars just after you said it.” She gives a soft snort. “Did he change his appearance as well?”
The jut of her chin invites a confrontation, but I ease back on my emotion.
It won’t help.
“Sure did. He grew a few inches, bulked out a tonne, and I only saw him from the back.” Her mulish expression tells me how unconvincing she finds me. “And he was coming out of the water. I’m not used to seeing him with wet hair.”
Gretchen shakes her head again. “I asked you to invite him to the party.”
“I did! He’s coming.”
“Only because he approached me this morning after hearing you boast about it to his dad.” She shifts back a step. “Sorry, but I’ve been burned with friendships before. I don’t like liars. Especially not liars who think it’s funny to cause trouble at home. You know his mother died?”
I nod, staring at the floor like I’ve done something as shameful as she believes I have. By the time it recedes, Gretchen has walked away, and I sigh, opening my locker.
My body flinches before I register what I’m seeing.
A flash of panic whites out my mind, sweat beading on my forehead.
Here, catch.
The world fills with my thundering heartbeat; my nostrils burn with the choking thickness of smoke.
A girl nearby laughs and reality slams into me, knocking me back a step.
I gag, compulsively clearing my throat, lungs wheezing.
A passing student stares because my arms are raised in a defensive posture. I lower them, struggling to get my rioting emotions under control.
The attack only lasts a second, but I know from experience the low mood that follows will be harder to shake. The dull sense of dread worms deeper as I swap the books from my bag for the ones in my locker, breathing in ragged gasps.
My first week at school was easy, but Drake has completely derailed my second.
In a burst of anger, I grab the Zippo and lighter fuel he left on the top shelf of my locker, storming along the corridor, my stride lengthening as I slam through the double doors, entering the quad.
We don’t share classes, but I know Drake’s homeroom and head for the rubbish bin directly outside. Using both hands, I squeeze the can of fuel into the bin, splashing it across the fruit peel, paper bags, and discarded food wrappers.
When my shaking hands can’t clench any tighter, I toss the can on the top, pulling the lighter from my pocket.
I glance up.
Drake stares at me through the window.
A mocking smile dances on his lips… but his eyes.
His eyes.
They blaze as they fix to mine. Burning into me. Razing all the way to my soul.
I flick the wheel, hear the scratch, the spark, the soft puff as the gas catches into flame.
My mind’s already alight with what comes next. The flames, the heat, the untamed nature of fire.
What the fuck are you doing?
With a gasp, I step back, trembling before the abyss.
I’m not the one with the rich daddy. I’m the one without a safety net.
The truth punches my chest, cracking ribs, collapsing my lungs until I deflate, arm dropping to my side. One call from the principal and Arnold will throw us out of his magnificent house.
We have nowhere else to go.
A sob chokes me as I spin on my heel, snapping the lighter closed, shoving it deep into my pocket. My anger snuffs just as quickly, leaving my limbs shaking.
There’s no batting cage, no tie knotted around my wrists, but two things haven’t changed.
Drake’s still torturing me.
I’m still powerless.