46. Jude
Chapter 46
Jude
I wake up late on Saturday morning and wander downstairs to get my breakfast out of the microwave. The house is empty and too quiet. Where did everyone go? I call my dad’s mobile, but he doesn’t answer. I try Harper, but her phone is off. I don’t have Diana’s number, and Rosie doesn’t own a phone.
Usually this wouldn’t bother me in the least, but after what Harper and I did last night, I’m struck with a sense of foreboding so strong, I get the fuck out of the house before I lose my mind.
I can go anywhere—the mall, a coffee shop, maybe check out a four-wheeler so Dad knows which one to buy me. But I go back to school. I only join the team on their Saturday morning practice sessions during playoffs. Since I have a fully kitted gym at home, I don’t need to come all the way here to work out. It’s a wasted drive just for an hour-long practice.
But I’m in a weird mood this morning. I’m craving human interaction, and since I woke up to a ghost house, this is my best bet at finding some.
There are a few cars in the parking lot, some I recognize and some I don’t. I guess there’s something else happening too—maybe cheerleading practice or band rehearsals.
When I spot my Dad’s Audi, I freeze up.
What the hell is he doing here?
I’m so freaked out, I go over to check the registration, and put my hands on the window to peer inside as if the license wasn’t confirmation enough.
My phone vibrates. I take it out and frown at the caller ID.
DAD
Huh. What a coincidence. I answer with a puzzled, “Hi.”
“Jude? Where are you?”
“Next to your car.”
“You’re...what?”
I open my mouth, but my dad carries on talking. “Never mind. I need you to get in your car and meet me at school.”
“I’m already here.”
“Here where?” He sounds frustrated, and that gets my heart rate going.
“Dad, what’s wrong?”
“You’re here ? At Cinderhart High?”
“Yeah. I’m right outside, next to your car. What are you doing here?”
“I’m...” he trails off, clears his throat. “Meet me in the locker room.” He ends the call before I can reply. I shake my head and glance back at my truck. I should get my duffle bag, but something tells me to leave it behind. I can always run back and fetch it to change for practice.
Which is already five minutes in, so I’d better get a move on. I pocket my Range Rover’s keys and trot around to the field’s guest entrance so I don’t have to track all the way through the school to get to the locker room.
My heart stutters, and my trot slows into a jagged walk before I stop.
Why is no one on the field?
Oh my God. Dad’s going to announce my scholarship to the team.
My skin prickles, pride rushing through me to warm my cheeks and puff out my chest. Is there a surprise party waiting for me in the locker room? That would explain why everyone was gone this morning—they obviously came through early to set up.
I punch the air, bottom lip caught between my teeth in a ruthless bite as I jog the rest of the way into the locker room.
Shit, the whole team’s here! It’s quiet, but I guess that’s because they’re going to throw the music full blast when I come in, like my own personal walk-up song. I’m grinning ear to ear like an idiot...and then I see Harper.
She’s standing closest to the passageway, her back to me. Her sleek dark hair glistens, and as if she senses eyes on her, she glances at me over her shoulder. She’s wearing makeup that makes her blue eyes pop. Lipstick plumps out her mouth. She’s in dark gray skinny jeans, biker boots, and a short leather jacket with a neon pink crop top underneath.
She looks good enough to eat, and that’s exactly what I plan to do to her the next time I get her alone. In fact, once the festivities have simmered down, I’m going to drag her behind the bleachers again and?—
“Jude.”
I reluctantly wrench my eyes away from my stepsister. Coach holds out an arm, beckoning me inside with a wave. Fuck, he’s always so grim, even now. What does it take to get him to crack a smile?
Harper steps back, sidling behind one of the fullbacks without touching him, and disappears into the shadows.
I suppose it’s better that way. I really shouldn’t be staring at her like a piece of meat where anyone could see. People would ask questions. And I don’t need anything casting shade on my scholarship.
Members of the team glance back when Coach calls me forward, and step aside to let me pass through. They look perplexed, wary even, and I don’t blame them. They’re probably wondering what the fuck is going on, why they all had to be at practice, especially the night after another win.
My heart is pumping so hard, I taste blood in my mouth. Then I realize I’m biting down too hard on my lip, so I quickly let it go and lick my lips. God, why am I so nervous? I own this shit.
Except, when I step into the circle created by the team and I see Principal Heller’s grim face, it all falls apart. Suddenly, everything that’s wrong with this picture rushes at me, all at once.
We’re not gathered in the empty space where Coach Perez normally calls our huddle. We’re standing near the row of lockers. One of them is already open.
It’s mine.
My pulse beats fast and hard in my ears. I try to swallow, but my mouth is too dry. “What are you doing?” I croak.
Heller’s lips thin. “Mr. Dearth, can you confirm this is your locker?”
I rake fingers through my hair and glance around the room. Everyone is staring at me, and it’s with the type of expression where they’re waiting to see just how bad this shit gets before they react.
“Well, yeah, but...it’s, like, anyone could—” I don’t know what the fuck I’m blabbering for. I have nothing to hide. There’s nothing in there but a spare towel, some hair gel I don’t even use anymore, maybe a protein bar. Suddenly I’m scrambling, wracking my mind to figure out what the hell everyone’s doing gathered around my fucking locker.
“So then this—” Heller reaches in and picks up something “—is yours?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “What is it?”
The principal silently holds out a small plastic bag with two orange pills inside.
“No!” My voice is too loud, too frantic. I stab a finger at the pills as I step closer. “That is not mine.”
Dad intercepts me with a hand on my shoulder. “It’s in your locker. Jude, I was here when they cut off the lock. No one’s been in there since last night.”
“But it’s not mine!” I slap his hand away from my shoulder before I can stop myself. “Someone must have put it in there.”
“Jude, calm—” Dad says.
But he doesn’t get any further, because months of suppressed rage and resentment suddenly flood through me. I spin on my heel, my fist already flying. Dad barely has time to widen his eyes before my blow snaps his head to the side.
He staggers back, caught by Sean and Eric, who looks as shocked as I feel.
“Dude, what the fuck?” Sean yells. “That’s your dad, man.”
So I punch him too. But he’s not a pushover like my dad. He spits out blood and charges me, shoving me into the nearest wall. In an instant, the locker room explodes into chaos. But all I’m aware of is Sean’s ugly mug, and I’m desperate to ram my fists into it over and over again, until it’s misshapen, until the brains inside his skull look like chopped up Jell-O.
I don’t get the chance. Someone puts me in a chokehold until I blackout.
I come to with a high-pitched whine in my ears and something stinging in the crook of my arm. I blink hard, forcing my blurry eyes to focus on the syringe someone just plucked out of my skin.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I try to sit forward. But I’m held back by a thick arm which a quick sideways glance reveals as belonging to Coach Perez. “Coach?”
“Sorry, Jude,” he murmurs. “But rules are rules.”
“Rules?” I feel disorientated, my mind all fogged up. When I look around, a lot of the faces I remember seeing are gone.
But Dad is still here. He has an ice pack on his face and a haunted look in his eyes. Rosie and Diana are gone...but Harper decided to stay behind. As soon as we lock eyes and I see the sparkle in hers, I know.
“You,” I growl, glaring at her across the locker room.
Dad’s frown deepens. “Keep quiet,” he says. “You’re only making this worse for yourself.”
His words echo back to me, and I realize I said them to Harper just the other day. Or a variation of them, anyway. I want to laugh, and I guess Dad sees some of that rue on my face because his lips twist in disgust.
“I can’t believe you, Jude,” he says quietly, as if the words are meant for my ears alone. But we’re not alone. Sean and Eric are still hanging around. Perez, Principal Heller.
Harper.
I force myself not to look at her. I know I’ll start ranting and raving like a fucking lunatic if I do. So instead I focus every ounce of attention on Dad.He keeps my gaze. Maybe it even empowers him, because he lifts his chin and drops the hand with the ice pack at his side. There’s a dark bruise on his jaw, some swelling. I didn’t know I hit him that hard. I didn’t know he’d still be able to take a punch like that, either.
“How long for the results?” Dad asks, not breaking eye contact with me.
“I’ll try and rush them,” Perez says. “But latest Wednesday.
“And if it’s positive?”
Perez sighs, some of that warm breath washing over my arm. The school nurse—a middle-aged man with thinning hair and crazy thick bifocals—caps the syringe and slips it into a plastic sleeve.
“We’ll see,” Coach says, sounding as if it’s the last thing he wants to do.
That’s when he finally lets me go. I push to my feet, and suddenly everyone in the room is on edge. Everyone except Harper. She just keeps staring at me with wide eyes, the gleam in them making it obvious just how much she’s enjoying this.
I look away before anyone can notice. “This is bullshit. It’s not mine.” The nurse tries to put a cotton ball and a band-aid on me, but I pluck my arm away and press my thumb hard against the sore spot.
As that dull ache spreads through my arm, it all comes together in my head.
And if it’s positive?
If it’s positive?
“Jude is suspended effective immediately while we wait for the results,” Heller says. “If the test comes back positive, then he’ll be expelled.”
“Expelled?” Dad faces off with the principal. “You can’t honestly?—”
“We have a zero-tolerance policy for drugs,” Principal Heller says. “If you have an issue with that, you can take it up with the board of trustees. Good morning, gentlemen. Miss Dearth.”
With that, the principal leaves. Dad turns slowly to me, arms on his hips, concern drawing deep creases in the corners of his eyes. “Jude?”
I don’t know what to say. Fuck, I don’t even know if I can speak. My chest feels like it’s being crushed in a trash compactor.
“I’m going to the car,” Harper says in a wobbly voice.
I don’t even want to look at her, but what fucking choice do I have? As soon as our eyes lock, she makes a pathetic little mewling sound and blinks, setting free two tears to race down her mottled cheeks.
And then she’s running out of the locker room, her boot heels clapping on the floor.
That’s all I need to shut down. Those big, fat, fake tears drain every last ounce of willpower from me.
Well played, Harper. Well fucking played.