3. Nell
CHAPTER 3
Nell
I ’ve been avoiding Law since he kissed me yesterday, and I realize my time is about to come to an end as he saunters into my history class late. For any other student, Mrs. Jenkins would have scolded them, but there’s something about Law. He has this commanding presence about him that not many people will confront.
I try not to watch him as he walks over to the table I’m sitting at. Mrs. J continues to talk about climate change and what the government is attempting to do about it, and as soon as Law sits next to me, my mind blanks. His scent—mint and coffee—invades my nostrils, and I’m hypnotized by him.
Scooting his chair closer to me, Law pulls me in between his legs and puts a hand on my lower back under my shirt, rubbing his thumb soothingly along my skin. Goosebumps break out over my body, and I shiver. I know he feels it because I can see his sexy smirk from the corner of my eye as he pretends to be interested in what the teacher is saying.
Ripping a piece of paper out of my notebook, he grabs my pen and begins to write a note, sliding it over to me.
I missed you last night. From now on, you wait for me after school.
Picking up the pen, I write back.
Why would I do that?
His answer scares and exhilarates me.
Because you’re mine.
Before I can respond, Mrs. Jenkins is beside us. “Would you like to share with the class?” She holds her hand out.
“No!” I shout as Law turns over the paper.
As the words leave my lips, laughter picks up in the class, pride exudes from every muscle in his sculpted body until someone from behind us says, “Smelly Trucker has a boyfriend. I guess pigs do fly.”
Before anyone can react, Law is out of his seat and has one of Dallas’ friends in a chokehold. “Wanna say that again?” he snarls in the boy’s face.
“Mr. Brentwood! Put him down right now and go to the office,” Mrs. Jenkins commands. “Miss Trucker, you can follow.”
“Trucker?” Hurt blossoms in my chest. I’ve absorbed the bullying and negative jokes from my peers but never has a teacher been so mean.
“I didn’t mean to say that,” she recants, a look of guilt on her face as I rush from the room.
“You’ll pay for that,” I hear Law say, but I’m too far gone to comprehend anything else as I rush to leave the school. I won’t be going anywhere but home.
I can handle a lot of things in life, being left alone while my dad works, Mom preferring the bottle to me, taunting from other kids, but this? This is too much. I’ve always shrugged the names and voices off, not caring about others’ opinions of me. But I don’t think that I’m equipped to deal with it coming from an adult.
Thankfully, as I burst through the back doors of the school, I don’t see Law behind me as I run through the parking lot and across the street to my house just three blocks away. One thing Dad wanted to make sure of when we moved here was that we lived close to the school and the grocery store.
Two minutes later, I’m crashing through the front door of my house, slamming it shut, and locking it behind me, and tossing my bag to the floor as I slide down the piece of wood. I try valiantly to brush the tears off, to catch my breath, but it just hurts.
The agony of understanding that I can’t get away from everything settles deep in my chest, and I struggle to be anything but the ugly duckling. I used to love the silly book. I related to it in a way that I didn’t recognize as a child. Then I was introduced to the Swan Princess and always imagined I would have my own Prince Derek coming to save the day.
It could be Law. My inner voice tries to reason.
He’s a high school boy. There’s no way he wants someone like me for the long haul, and I’ll never settle for being anything but a forever girl.
Taking a deep breath, I force the negativity I’m feeling down and push up from the floor. Dad is supposed to be coming home for the weekend, and I have a house to clean up and meals to make for when he goes back on the road again.
I hate that he’s always gone for nearly a week at a time. I want him home. I want to talk to him. I would like to be able to share with him what’s going on at school and how much I hate it. I wish that I could bring up that I miss Mom. But he’ll never hear about any of it from me because then he’d worry, and he might cut back his hours. We’ll struggle, and then I’ll worry he’ll turn into Mom, relying on the bottle when things get to be too hard.
I’ve offered to get a job so he could be home more, but he refuses, says I can get a job when I graduate over the summer before I start college. I don’t even know how I’m going to go to college. How can we even afford it?
“Nell!” I hear yelled from the front door as a heavy fist smacks against the solid oak. I know it’s Law; his voice is so strong, commanding. “Open the door!”
“Go away!” I call back. I can’t deal with him right now.
“No.” Stubborn man.
“I want to be alone,” I grumble as I walk away from the door.
“No,” he responds again, and this time, I ignore him as I head into the kitchen. What I don’t expect is for him to pick the lock. “I said, open the door,” he growls as he closes the damn thing behind him and locks it.
“What the hell! If my daddy were home, he’d kick your ass.” I know it sounds dumb because I don’t think anyone could kick Law’s ass.
“He could try.” He smirks. “Why’d you run?” He walks closer, like a hunter about to catch his prey.
“Because I can only handle so many insults at once,” I confess.
“Why do they call you that?” He’s trapped me against the counter now. Hands on either side of me, he leans closer and presses his head to mine, waiting on my answer.
“Because my dad’s a trucker. Tucker, Trucker, same thing to them, I guess.” I try to shrug it off, but it still hurts. John T. Maple High School is in a more upscale neighborhood of the city, and most of the kids have rich parents. It’s evident from my clothes and belongings that I’m not one of them, and so they attack anyone who is different.
“Why Smelly?” He growls, pissed about the name.
I sigh, angry and hurt, about why they call me that. “When we moved here two years ago, I had just started grade ten. There was an open parent’s night thing, and Dad had just gotten home from a two-week trip?—”
“He left you alone for two fucking weeks!” His outrage is adorable.
“We don’t have a lot. Dad took on too much so I would have some nice things. He knew school was going to be harder here than home,” I explain.
“Is that where he is now? Working?” I nod. “I don’t like you here by yourself,” he hisses as he leans down to kiss my neck. “Why Smelly?” he asks again.
“Because Dad didn’t get a chance to go home after his trip. I admit he was pretty rank, but he wanted to be here for me. Everything he does is for me.”
“He doesn’t know how bad it gets, does he?” I shake my head no. I’d never tell him, either. “I’ve changed all my courses, so I’m in your classes. Nobody fucks with what’s mine.”
“You can’t say those things,” I murmur. He gets my hopes up when all I want to do is finish school and figure out what the hell I’m going to do with my life.
Law pulls back. “Why in the hell not?”
“Because…”
“Because what?” His tone is demanding, and his glare bores into me.
“Because we’re in high school; nothing lasts here.” I want to say more.
“Why the fuck not?”
“We’re too immature. Too young.”
His eyes grow even more thunderous, making me wish I could back up farther, but he has me firmly blocked in. “Law?”