Chapter 4 #2
Whether Hudson was Bridge Boy or not, Landon’s swollen, bruised face came back to me in vivid detail, and I could remember Dad telling me to go get a bag of frozen broccoli from the freezer and Landon crying so hard he started hyperventilating.
He’d cried so hard that he couldn’t even tell our parents what happened.
Mom had to get it out of another student’s parents.
But, sure, let’s pair a sophomore with a boy like that. “Well, I should probably ask my—”
“I spoke with your mother about this already, actually.” Principal Oliphant tilted her head from side to side like she was thinking about saying something, ultimately leaning forward. “I told her about the buddy program.”
I risked a quick peek to the side. “What about who my buddy is?”
“Well…I didn’t name names. I think we both know how she’d react.”
Hudson scoffed and tipped his head once more, and I didn’t keep my jaw in check as it fell open.
Yeah, I knew how she’d react. Mom, who still refused to let me walk to the bus stop alone, would never say yes to letting me hang out with a boy.
Alone. Not even just any boy—the boy who had beaten her precious Landon to a pulp once upon a time.
Mom would be offended if Principal Oliphant even asked.
If Mom found out Principal Oliphant was doing this without her permission, Mom would probably have her axed as principal.
Which left the question—why would Principal Oliphant even ask?
“For now…let’s keep it a secret who your buddy is, okay? Until I can warm your mom up to it. This is important for Hudson. You can really help him stay out of trouble.”
Keep it a secret from Mom. Lie to Mom. That was what she was proposing. This was Mrs. Oliphant the family friend now instead of my principal—it was obvious in the way she spoke to me. No school official would ever give the green light to this.
I sputtered for a response, but came up empty, too shocked to coherently piece words together.
She took this as a good sign. “How about we start on Monday? You can meet in our guidance counselor’s office after school. After a few days, we’ll check in with how you both are faring. Does that sound agreeable?”
Hudson tore his fingers through his blond hair with a sigh, hinting at how disagreeable he found it, but he never said anything.
Maybe this was him attempting to dodge the bullet Principal Oliphant threatened him with, but it was clear he didn’t want to do this.
That, like me, he’d rather do anything else.
Everything in me felt like a rubber band on the brink of snapping.
I needed to follow my motto of keeping my head down and my mouth shut.
I couldn’t imagine standing up to Principal Oliphant, but I didn’t have to.
Once I talked to Mom and told her the truth of who my buddy would be, she’d call things off for me.
There’d be blowback for Principal Oliphant—maybe she’d be cut from the friend group like Mrs. Davies—but this was way too crazy of her to ask.
So, despite screaming on the inside, I nodded.
Principal Oliphant dismissed us at the same time, which meant Hudson and I walked out together.
He shoved through Principal Oliphant’s office and ignored the prying gazes of the secretaries.
No doubt this would be on their gossip radar the second we walked out of the room.
I looked them straight-on, but it didn’t matter—they weren’t watching me.
The door to the main office banged against the wall as Hudson stalked out. I shuffled my textbook to my other arm to hurry and catch the door before it slammed into my face.
At the last second, Hudson reached back and caught it, his large hand closing on the metal just above my head.
“Thanks,” I mumbled, staring at his sharp profile, because he refused to look me in the eye.
All hard lines and angry edges, leaving no doubt as to what he was feeling, what he was thinking.
He looked very much like the scary senior people gossiped about.
Once I was in the hallway, he let the door fall shut and turned away.
It was the same as yesterday, his lazy strides starting down the hall.
Clearing my throat, I raised my voice. “H-Hudson?”
His boots came to a halt, but he didn’t turn. His black jacket was loose over his frame, but even then, I could see his shoulders tense.
“I know this probably isn’t something you want to do.” Either, I tacked on in my head, and though I’d intended to follow that sentence up with another one, he interrupted me.
“Oh, I’m not worried.” Hudson turned to show me his twisted smirk, one that looked more pinched than anything. “We both know you’re going to tell your mom everything Principal Oliphant said and get us out of it.”
My face burned at how easily he could gauge what my next move would be. As if I were transparent. “You don’t know that.”
He tipped his head to the side, letting a few blond locks fall into his gaze. “Come on, be honest. That’s what you were going to do, wasn’t it?”
Heat from my cheeks filled the rest of my body, and I wasn’t sure what about this moment made me feel so…
embarrassed. The fact that he guessed what my next moves were?
The fact that I was going to run to my mom the first chance I got?
The fact that even though I’d been wallowing in all the decisions Mom made for me, I wanted her to make this one?
Hudson backtracked toward me, boots hitting the floor hard.
He came within a few feet of me, a looming shadow that I had to look up at.
“You don’t want to do this with me. That expression on your face the second you laid eyes on me makes that clear.
And yet you let Principal Oliphant force you into submission because…
what? She’s Mommy’s BFF? Are you really that easily manipulated? ”
My heart raced frantically in my chest, telling me to get away while I still had room to do so. Yeah, wow, Hudson intimidating? Never would’ve guessed. “Principal Oliphant said you needed help—”
“I don’t need you.” There was no hesitation, no holding back. “In fact, I don’t want you. So go ahead, run along and get us both out of it. Save yourself while you still can.”
I stared up at him, torn between feeling annoyed and freaked out at the same time, once again noting the scar on his cheek.
The sight of something so small, so faint, so familiar, broke through the terror of the moment, pulling me from the corner he’d shoved me into.
Before he could fully turn around, my hand shot out and grabbed the pocket of his jacket, fingers curling around the narrow zipper.
Hudson tilted his head down at my hand as if wondering how dare I touch him, and then only lifted his electric eyes. “Let go.”
“You’re the boy from the bridge,” I said with more confidence than I felt, refusing to look away, to let myself waver. I still held fast to his jacket. “Aren’t you?”
Hudson didn’t even blink. Instead, he took a step closer, forcing me back, back, until my spine hit the lockers lining the wall.
I let go of his pocket to clutch my books in front of me, using them as a pitiful shield.
He was a head taller than me, but seemed so much larger, like he could crush me under his boot if he wanted.
Hudson ducked his fingers underneath my braid and eased it slowly behind my shoulder, his fingertips brushing the skin of my neck in the process. My heart sped up uncomfortably, telling me to run, but my legs wouldn’t move.
“You know, I am disappointed. I thought you’d have taken what I said to heart, but looks like you’re too comfortable playing the role of the dutiful daughter.
Which is fine. You can be spineless for the rest of your life.
” He reached out and patted my upper arm, and though his touch wasn’t firm, I jumped so hard that I nearly dropped my books.
“Works out better for me, anyway. Get us out of this buddy thing, would you?”
And with that, the Grim Reaper turned on his heel and resumed his procession down the hallway, taking a left and dipping from sight.
I leaned against the lockers, breathing as if I’d run a marathon.
The weight and sharpness of his parting words felt like a blow to the stomach, knocking all the air from me.
No one in my entire life had spoken to me with so much malice.
What had I been expecting? “Oh, yeah, I am the boy from the bridge, good to see you again”?
The same sort of tingling feeling that I’d gotten yesterday when Hudson had picked up my papers rose in my chest again now. The same feeling that’d come when he reached his arm around my waist at the bridge, holding me steady. A feeling that I didn’t fully understand.
Despite him being the boy from the bridge, this version of him definitely seemed like a bear I shouldn’t poke. Our little post-meeting chat had one thought running around my head—I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to speak to Hudson Bishop again.