Chapter Six
School on Monday was different. A normal day had always been full of whispered comments about me, uninviting glances that left me feeling dirty, and more frowns than greetings.
I didn’t get that on Monday. All that used to be aimed at me was instead aimed elsewhere.
At Benji.
For the first time since the beginning of the school year, I was back to being unseen. How I liked it. I forgot how much I missed it. When I walked into my classes, people didn’t stare at me and whisper with each other, or share dirty jokes. No one looked at me, too busy jumping on the rumors that were obviously spreading faster than they should have been.
Sure, we had a lot of classmates at the party, but I didn’t expect every student in the school to know what had happened. There were like a thousand students here. I was lucky if I knew even a hundred of them. Sure, faces were familiar, but I nearly went four years without even knowing the guys and they were in my grade.
So how were the rumors about Benji spreading this fast?
And they weren’t good rumors at all, embellishing what had happened at the Halloween party.
When I walked into my music class, Toby was already there, talking with another classmate. He was grinning big, looking a little mischievous.
“Hello, Candy Mint.”
“Candy Mint?” I raised a brow.
The other classmate, Joey, gave me a weak smile before going to his seat after a quick ‘see you later.’
“You’re always refreshing to see.” Toby gave me his full attention, still grinning like a mischievous little fox. I should have made him dress up like that for Halloween.
I rolled my eyes. “How hard did you have to think about that one?”
“Not hard at all.”
I settled in next to him, opening my notebook to a clean page. “So…” I said, not really sure what to say.
“So.” Toby really wasn’t going to make this easy.
“What did you do to make the rumors spread so quickly like this?” I blurted out.
Both of Toby’s eyebrows rose. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Bullshit.”
“We gave the students something to latch on to. That was it.”
“Even the rumors about me didn’t spread like this, you know. Someone was there to spread it even further than normal. And it’s the same for Benji. So how?”
“I swear, I’m really not doing anything. All Paxon and I did was give people information they probably should know anyway. Benji is a predator. If others feel like it’s important to share that news with others so they can make informed decisions when it comes to Benji, then that is their right.”
“That’s a one hundred percent rehearsed response.”
Toby sighed. “It isn’t me.”
“You really aren’t doing anything?” I asked.
“I wouldn’t stoop that low.” Toby actually looked offended.
“But you already did when you shared that video.” I leaned back in my chair. “As long as you aren’t pushing it further.”
“I’m really not.”
“Okay.”
“Believe me, Cadence.”
I met his pleading gaze. “I do. You aren’t doing anything. Not anymore. But you released an opportunity and now Benji is going to live in hell.”
“You don’t think he deserves a little hell after what he did to someone else?”
I shook my head, my chest twisting. “I’ve never been for revenge.” I rolled my pen between my fingers. “Nothing good comes from it.”
“I think I disagree with you.”
“Well let me put it this way then. I think if I believed revenge would help, I’d have room for nothing else. Think about it, about all the people in your life who you’d be spending more time than it’s worth to make them miserable. It isn’t worth it. I refuse to give those people more of my time. It’d feel like they won if I did something like that.”
Toby fell quiet, not saying anything. I couldn’t look at him and instead focused on our teacher, Mrs. Odera. As soon as the bell rang, she stood from her desk and moved to the middle of the front of the room, crossing her arms over her chest as she slowly looked at all of us.
“I finished going through your midterms. Everyone did excellent. There’s a reason each of you are in this class, and it shows. I know I said we weren’t going to do live performances, that I only needed the recorded song, but I’ve signed our class up for the Holiday Show.”
We all groaned in response. Our midterm was to sing a song in a genre we weren’t used to. All we had to do was record ourselves and send that, along with our lyrics and our two-page essay explaining the creation of the song. Nothing about having to perform it. If I’d known that, I may have sung something else instead.
“Don’t worry,” she said with a smile. “This is optional. Music isn’t just words on a page, or a song to listen to through headphones. It needs to have a presence too. It needs to take root in your listeners. If you can’t capture your listeners, then you failed, and the best way to find that out is by performing to strangers. So if you’d like to explore that aspect in this class, this is your chance. If you plan to be a performer, this is your starting point. Go onto that stage and woo the crowd with not just your song, but also your presence. Anyone who decides to do it will be given extra credit. I have a signup sheet, so take your time to think about it. You have until the end of the week to decide. I’ll have this hung up on the board by the door for you. Just drop in and write your name on it once you know.”
“Are you going to do it?” Toby asked.
I frowned, thinking about my song and having to sing it in front of so many people. I went beyond what I was comfortable with, settling on a heavy metal song. “I don’t know. You?”
“Share my rap song with the world? Hell yeah.” Of course he didn’t need to think about it. Toby was a performer at heart. Once he got over his nerves, he’d dominate that stage.
“Now that some of you have begun thinking about that, let’s begin class. It’s time we talk about music and tradition. How these are linked together, why they are linked together. All cultures have used music as part of their traditions, whether it’s for a ceremony, for special dances, celebrations, or even to mourn loss. Music can be found…”
The rest of the day ended up being much of the same. People were talking. I saw Benji a couple of times. He was going about his day with his head down as the others glared at him. Even his own teammates were scowling at him. On my way to the bathroom, I even found him with India, one of the people who bullied me the most. The two of them were arguing and India looked like she wanted to claw his eyes out. She sneered at him before storming off with her arms full of her books.
While we didn’t think Benji had anything to do with my assault last weekend, we knew India did. Along with her friend Trinity. They had been all too happy to get into my face right after it happened, trying to put the blame on me. Hopefully Benji’s situation was warning enough for them now.
Benji remained rooted in place for a while, clearly frustrated, as evidenced by the way his body clenched. I had to quickly duck into the bathroom before he realized I was there. I’d been making sure our paths didn’t cross in case he tried to retaliate against me.
In a way, he’d done this to himself. He looked at everyone like they were fools, and it wasn’t just the students he barely even knew, but also his own friends and teammates. No one trusted him anymore.
Just last week, Benji had been at the top of the world. This week, he was barely standing on the ground. No one was going to give him an opportunity to turn on them anymore.
The rest of the week was much of the same as the school practically shunned Benji. When Wednesday came and I didn’t need to go to school because of a staff development day, I welcomed the peace from all the tension. He had been absolutely disgusting when he interacted with me, but even I was starting to feel bad for him.
No one should feel like everyone in the world had turned against them.
I poured my anxiety into my work as I did some of the jobs that had come in recently. I at least was able to work from my own house instead of at Seth’s place. I still didn’t sleep here, but having my piano and equipment made working so much easier. And I finally reached a point where I could stay here by myself during the day.
The day a stranger broke into my house to hurt me became the day this place no longer felt safe. Even after Bryan installed security. Even when others were here with me.
I was lucky if I could go downstairs and find food in my fridge at this point.
Sadness welled up inside of me. This was supposed to be home. Truly home. I bought it with that intention. A place to call my own, untainted. Safe. Mine.
But that little dream quickly shattered. My therapist had a lot to say about that, but at least she didn’t suggest I slept here. She did suggest I worked from here, and I’d admit, it did help a little. Only a little bit though.
Hitting the wrong key broke my thoughts, and I stared at the note sheet, focusing more carefully as I went through the cords again.
My phone buzzed and I looked at it.
Dad was calling me.
Instead of reaching for the phone, I curled my fingers and rested my hands on my lap, holding my breath, staring at his name flashing on my phone.
Eventually it stopped. Only then did I release my breath.
But then my phone lit up again. He was calling again.
I frowned. Was something wrong? Why not just leave a voicemail to go with the other voicemails he had left me? Was he hurt?
That thought was enough to spur me into picking up the phone and answering.
“Hello,” I said in a soft voice, tentative, trying to prepare myself for whatever bad news my dad had for me. He had to have bad news if he called twice in a row, right?
“Cadence.” His familiar voice warmed something inside of me, easing some of the tension. For some reason, it felt too reassuring to hear his voice.
“Is something wrong?”
“I wanted to check in with you. I know I had to leave abruptly to deal with work, especially after what had happened. I wanted to see how you were doing?”
“Checking in on me?” I whispered.
“Yes. I’m always worried about you. Wondering how you’re doing.”
There was so much I wanted to say to that. Did he worry about me all the years he was gone from my life?
Too scared to ask, instead I said, “I’m fine. I’m just working.”
“Oh. Right. I’m sorry for disturbing you. I’ll be quick then.”
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
“Yeah, just some commission issues for an exhibit I’m advising on.” He snorted. “Artists are stubborn.” He chuckled as if he’d made a joke. When I didn’t respond, he cleared his throat. “I’ll be back before Thanksgiving. Once this wraps up, I’ll be back. I promise.”
Empty promise. It was an empty promise. My brain practically whispered that to me.
“But before I come back, I wanted to offer you an idea.”
“What?”
“Stay with me for Thanksgiving.”
I took in a sharp breath.
Dad kept talking. “At least think about it. There is still time. I would love for you to come here, see my gallery. There are a lot of fun things to do here too with hiking, ziplining, shopping. I’d love to take you around and share all my favorite spots.”
“Dad, I—”
“Please, at least consider it before you say no. Please.”
His plea pulled at me, made me feel bad for wanting to so quickly shoot him down. I had decided to give him a shot, but I also ran from him every opportunity I got. When he said he had to go back to Las Vegas, looking absolutely brokenhearted, I was the opposite. I had been relieved that he had to leave. It had felt like I had breathing room.
I wasn’t being a good daughter again.
“Okay. I’ll think about it.”
The phone rustled from the breath he blew out. “That’s great. Thank you. I appreciate that more than you realize. I’ll let you get back to work. Don’t work too hard, okay?”
“Yeah.” I didn’t really promise him anything. Once he hung up, I dropped the phone back down on the stand I had set up next to me and stared at it.
Thanksgiving in Nevada with my dad? I never thought this day would come. Was this what I needed to do to repair my relationship with him? I wasn’t so sure. Just talking to him on the phone had already felt like I was being suffocated.
Since my focus was shattered, I got up and stretched, my back cracking from sitting still for too long. I grimaced and went downstairs into the kitchen. After I got a glass of water, I dug through all the mail I’d let pile up. It was a hefty pile at this point. I only ever just grabbed it from my mailbox and then dropped it on the counter to be forgotten.
Sorting through the mail, a postcard dropped down onto the table. The cover was of a beautiful waterfall. Nondescript. No idea where it could have been taken.
I turned it over and saw the typed-out message:
‘I’m doing well. I miss you. —An’
That was it. I stared at the short message and smiled. Seemed she was doing well. When I was fifteen and she was eighteen, I had helped her escape from her boyfriend at the time. He just so happened to be Rick McCormack, the leader of the Ryder gang.
The very same man who had kidnapped me and nearly shot me in the head. I shuddered and pushed those memories away. I relived them most nights, I didn’t need to live them during the day either.
She’d escaped him. I’d escaped him too.
We were okay.
I smiled, tucked the postcard away in a drawer and then grabbed my phone and keys. I wasn’t going to get any more work done, and I no longer wanted to spend any more time at my house. Five hours was long enough, right? It was early afternoon, but I needed a dose of Bebe.
Seth was still at work, so I was willing to step up and give the adorable bullmastiff all the love he deserved.
I carefully locked up my house, making sure the security was in place, even going so far to double check the security app on my phone. Everything was fine.
Bryan made it impossible for anyone to break into my house without alerting me. It was even approved by Roman Davies, an ex-military security expert who had apparently taught Bryan everything he knew.
Everyone was working hard to make sure I was safe.
I started walking over when I realized there was a nice car parked in Seth’s driveway. I didn’t recognize it, trying to go over who would even have a vehicle.
Paxon and Bryan both had a car. Seth owned a big truck. I’ve seen Paxon’s dad’s car before. And Toby’s aunt had one of those hybrid vehicles. It wasn’t a rental car.
Unable to help it, my heart rate picked up as I slowed down, glancing at the house. The front door was slightly ajar. I gripped my phone tightly and stayed by the road as I tried to find life within Seth’s house. Nothing. It was quiet. No movements that I could see.
I wasn’t going to approach his house though.
Just as I was about to send Seth a text and get ready to call the police, there was a loud bark and then Bebe came jumping outside. I almost expected him to run to me, but he only made it halfway before turning and jumping around. An unfamiliar woman was closing Seth’s door now.
She had long, dark locks that went all the way down to her lower back, even with them pulled back in a ponytail. She dressed nicely in a leather jacket, black jeans, and ankle boots.
The woman turned, smiling as she leaned down and patted Bebe, who ate it up with excitement. Once she straightened, she finally noticed me.
“Oh, hello,” she said, giving me a polite smile. Her make-up was lightly done to accentuate her beautiful, dark features. Confident. Mature.
I looked at her, at the car, and back at the house that she obviously just locked. Seth gave me a key a long time ago, so it wasn’t an issue for me, but it left me wondering who she was to have a copy of the key too.
Something dark tightened in my stomach and almost made me ache. Nausea settled heavily and my chest hurt as I watched her.
“Hi,” I finally said, remembering that she had spoken to me. “Who are you? Why are you at Seth’s house?”
“Oh. You know Seth?” Her smile widened as she came closer.
Bebe was now looking between the two of us, his head swiveling back and forth every time we talked. Poor boy looked confused.
Me too, little guy. Me too.
Who was this woman and why was she here? What was she to Seth?