Chapter 30 #2
“I think they saw each other in the parking lot.” He scrubbed a hand over his face before threading it through his hair, tugging through the blond locks.
“I don’t know. But as soon as she was in there, that’s when Filmore started telling her and my dad everything.
He talked about the buddy program that Principal Oliphant kept secret, talked about how I must’ve brainwashed you, how I pulled out a knife. ”
As Hudson went on, my frustration built anew, and I wished I could see Superintendent Filmore and his stupid smile one more time so I could hit it off his face.
Hudson cleared his throat as he went on, shifting how he sat in the chair.
“Principal Oliphant said that I have a clean slate now. That everything that happened in the past—the tardies, the absences, the arrest—they’re going to wipe it from my record.
Treat me like I’m a whole new student. Which is… hard to wrap my head around.”
About time, I wanted to say, but I still held my breath.
“She said she had a solution for the days I might be tardy because of Paisley’s bus. That I’d have a flexible first period.” Hudson met my eye. “She said that you reminded her of that being a possibility for me.”
“I told you that I’d fight for you,” I said without hesitation, making my voice as firm as possible. “I meant it.”
He reached up and traced his fingertip along the arm of his glasses. “I was wrong. Fighting for what you want isn’t pointless.”
“Speaking of.” I lowered my chin to catch his eye. “Landon’s ready to go to the principal about the fight freshman year, too. To tell the truth.”
Hudson’s eyebrows drew together in a small frown, and he surprised me by shaking his head.
“It’s funny, I never really thought of exposing the truth to that.
Not really. And now, I just want to put that behind me.
I know the truth. My family knows the truth.
You know the truth.” His gray-blue gaze locked onto mine. “That’s enough for me.”
I opened my mouth to argue him on that—how could he not want to throw Kyle and Ashton rightfully under the bus?
—but the words ended up dying on my tongue.
The fight, the aftermath—it was all attached to the Grim Reaper.
He wanted to put the title and all it encompassed behind him.
Besides, there wasn’t really any guarantee of justice anyway—not with Kyle’s dad as superintendent.
“We know the truth,” I agreed, nodding. “And if that’s enough for you, it’s enough for me. ”
Hudson reached into his sweatshirt pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
It was wrinkled, as if it’d been crumped once upon a time, but Hudson smoothed the paper flat.
“You know how you asked me if I ever made a list, too?” He cleared his throat.
“It’s not a rebellion list, though. And there are only two things on it. ”
“I came up with eight and you came up with two?”
“Well, there were only two things I wanted.”
Anticipation caused my chest to tickle. “Do I get to see?”
The way he looked at me hinted that he almost wasn’t going to hand it over, that there was still a part of him holding back. But then he stretched his hand out, and I got a full view of what the paper read.
In black ink, the letters were bold.
Most Likely To: Stay A Prude
Gemma Settler
Recognition flared instantly. “Was this the paper taped to my locker?”
Hudson nodded.
I wanted to laugh at the thought of him keeping it. As I took the sheet, I realized the Most Likely To label wasn’t the only thing written on it. Just underneath the letters, written in smudged graphite pencil, it read:
Help Gemma find out who she wants to be
Fight my role
“Laugh at my incredible cheesiness,” Hudson said in a deadpan voice, totally unaware that I’d stopped breathing. “But this…this was what I had written down.”
I traced my fingertips over the letters, over his boyish handwriting, trying to imagine him sitting down and writing this. Was it that same day he’d told me to write a rebellion list? Out of all the things he could’ve wanted, he just picked these two? One to do with him, and one to do with me.
As for him, it was always him and me.
“I’m not used to people fighting for me.
” His voice carried a soft, solemn quality, and the sound caused all the nerves and the frustration that’d built over the past few days to hush.
Like his voice alone just took the volume and turned it down to low.
“And I’m not used to fighting for what matters to me. ”
I swallowed. “And now?”
Hudson looked down at his sweatshirt for a brief second before turning to me, the expression in his eyes so easy to read.
I couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked at me so unguardedly.
He drew in a breath as he got to his feet, and with how small Ms. Murphy’s office was, he was only an arm’s reach away.
“I’m ready to wash the dirt off,” he murmured, lips twitching like an almost smile.
“To grow a backbone and be who I really want to be. With you.”
So many times, anticipation built when I was with Hudson, feeling like I was at the tippy top of a rollercoaster ride, seconds before the drop. His words, though, finally tipped the car over the edge, sending a flood of warmth rushing through my veins.
I had to clear my throat before I spoke, folding the paper back up. I was definitely keeping it. “That was a really good answer.”
Hudson stretched his hand into the distance between us, offering it out to me. “I’m Hudson Bishop,” he said.
Instead of shaking his hand, I wove underneath his hand and slipped my pinky around his, giving it a firm squeeze. It was the smallest action, but called back so much between us, and it felt right. “I’m Gemma,” I told him, lips stretching into a grin. “With a G.”
And then, with my pinky still firmly wrapped around his, I leaned forward and kissed him.
His response was immediate, almost like it’d been on his mind too.
Hudson tugged our hands closer, taking a step forward and closing the gap.
With his free hand, he reached up and threaded his fingers into my hair, gathering it in his palm.
I leaned into him, sinking into the way he felt, the way he tasted, my lips curving over his.
It felt like a lifetime had passed since our first kiss, and in a way, it had.
We’d both had different outlooks that night, because even though we’d been together, it felt more like a stolen moment in time.
There was always that lingering fear that at any moment, everything would crash down around us.
That fear was gone now, cut off like long hair, discarded like old clothes.
There was nothing to shy away from, but still everything to fight for.
We both pulled away at the same time, and Ms. Murphy’s room veered into focus even though I didn’t want it to. I wanted to stay in the warmth of Hudson’s embrace, to linger as long as possible in the electric zap of his touch.
Above us, the five-minute warning bell rang out, dashing those dreams of mine to the ground.
“We should get going,” Hudson whispered, drawing his fingertips along the edge of my jaw, directly at odds with his words. “It’ll look bad if I get a tardy on the first day my slate’s wiped clean.”
“Speaking of clean slates,” I said, drawing in a breath to calm the furious rhythm of my heart. “I finished everything on my rebellion list. And before homecoming.”
“We’ll have to make a new list, then,” Hudson said, wrapping his arms around me, pulling me close. I could hear his pulse racing just as fast as mine as I pressed my cheek to his chest, and he rested his chin on the top of my head. “Together.”
Together. I really, really liked the sound of that.