CHAPTER 22
The room is already buzzing with low chatter as students settle in, flipping through notebooks and talking about the weekend.
I sit down, pulling out my copy of the assigned novel, The Count of Monte Cristo.
It’s already dog-eared, notes scrawled in the margins, because unlike some people, I actually do the reading.
Tripp walks in, taking the seat next to mine as he drops his backpack on the floor.
“You finally told Brooklyn how you feel? Or are you backing down like a little shit?” I ask, arching an eyebrow as a smirk spreads across my face.
He glares at me, but there’s no real heat behind it. “Ha ha, very funny, Dakota,” he mutters, leaning back in his chair and rubbing the back of his neck. “It ain't that simple.”
I snort. “It’s exactly that simple. You like her, you tell her. Worst case, she says no. Best case, you two stop doing this weird will-they-won’t-they thing and actually get somewhere.”
Tripp groans, “I really like her, man. I’m scared I’m gonna fuck shit up.”
“You know if you don’t ask her out, someone else will,” I say, leaning forward and fixing him with a pointed look. “Unless you want someone else swooping in and making a move while you sit around overthinking it.”
His jaw tightens, and he glances away, like the thought of Brooklyn with someone else physically hurts him. “Don’t even say that,” he mutters. “The idea of her with some douchebag—” He cuts himself off, shaking his head. “No. I can’t let that happen.”
“Then don’t,” I say, shrugging like it’s the simplest thing in the world.
“Brooklyn isn’t going to wait around forever, Tripp.
You like her? Do something about it. Tell her how you feel, take her out, whatever the fuck you gotta do—just stop sitting here freaking out about all the ways it could go wrong. ”
“And what if she doesn’t feel the same way?” he asks, his voice quieter now, almost vulnerable. “What if I ruin everything?”
“Then at least you’ll know,” I say firmly. “Living in ‘what if’ is worse than hearing her say no. At least that way, you can move on. But honestly?” I pause, giving him a knowing look. “Brooklyn likes you, man. She’s just waiting for you to grow a spine and make your move.”
“You really think so?” he asks, a flicker of hope lighting up his face.
“I know so,” I say with a smirk. “You’ve got this. Just be yourself—you know, the version of you that’s not currently freaking out and moping like a lovesick idiot.”
“Fuck you,” Tripp says, and I chuckle, knowing I’ve successfully gotten under his skin. But then he smirks, leaning in slightly. ”Who was the guy you were talking with by your locker?”
“Zach? We play hockey together. What about him?”
“You wanna talk about your love triangle then? You know, Hayes and Zach.” His grin widens, and he arches an eyebrow, giving me a look that’s way too smug for my liking.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I reply flatly, my tone clipped, leaving no room for argument. But Tripp, being Tripp, doesn’t back down.
“Oh, come on, Dakota,” he says, his grin turning downright mischievous. “You’ve got Hayes all broody and territorial, and Zach practically drooling over you just a few minutes ago. It’s like watching a drama unfold in real-time. Honestly, I’m kind of impressed.”
“There’s no drama,” I say, grabbing my pen and focusing intently on my notebook, pretending like his words aren’t getting under my skin. “You’re imagining things.”
“Am I?” Tripp leans back in his chair, crossing his arms as if settling in for the long haul. “Because from where I was standing, Hayes looked ready to murder Zach. And don’t even get me started on the way Zach acted around you. If that’s not a love triangle, I don’t know what is.”
I roll my eyes, determined not to let him get to me. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You do know there’s nothing wrong with being gay, right?” Tripp says, his tone casual but pointed. The words hit me harder than I expect, and I pause, my pen still in my hand, before slowly looking up at him.
We may not have known each other for a long time, but Tripp is great and he’s my friend, but not once have I come out to Tripp.
It’s not that I’m ashamed of who I am. I’ve made my peace with that part of myself.
I just… didn’t think he cared enough to talk about my sexuality.
Tripp has always been the laid-back type, the guy who’s more interested in joking around than getting deep.
More like a defense mechanism to him. I didn’t expect this from him, and now I’m not sure what to say.
“I know that, Tripp,”
He shrugs, his gaze steady and without judgment.
“Great. Just putting it out there. I mean I see the way you look at Hayes. And maybe the way Zach looks at you. I just figured it was worth saying, you know, in case you needed to hear it. You’re my friend, Dakota.
I don’t care who you like or don’t like. ”
“Can we not talk about this stuff right now? Maybe later?” I say, risking a glance at the topic of this conversation sitting on the other side of the classroom, his gaze fixed on his phone. I don’t want someone over hearing I may have a thing for Hayes.
Hayes may use it against me. He’s good at it. Also, he already knows I may still have a thing for him after all these years. The last thing I want to do right now is feed his ego.
“Cool,” he says with an easy smile, like we just talked about the weather. “But if you ever want to talk about stuff like that, I’m here.”
“Sure. But for what it’s worth, I’m bi.”
“Cool,” he grins at me and I shake my head and roll my eyes. “So, what’s the deal? Are you leaning toward the broody ex-bully who can’t seem to figure out his feelings, or the charming teammate who flirts with you like it’s his job?”
“Neither,” I snap, a little too quickly, and Tripp’s smirk grows even wider.
“Sure, keep telling yourself that,” he says, clearly enjoying this way too much. “But for the record, my money’s on Hayes. Guy looks like he’d set the world on fire just to keep you warm.”
“Classy metaphor,” I mutter, trying not to let his words get to me.
“What can I say? I’m a poet at heart,” Tripp says with a mock bow. “But seriously, Dakota, maybe it’s time you figured out what you want. Just saying.”
I don’t respond, turning my attention back to my notebook and pretending like I’m not replaying his words in my head. Because as much as I hate to admit it, Tripp might actually have a point.
Ms. Aldridge walks in, clutching her ever-present coffee cup and a stack of papers. She sets them down on her desk with a sigh and pushes her glasses up her nose. “Alright, settle down, everyone. Today we’re continuing our discussion of The Count of Monte Cristo. I hope you all came prepared.”
She paces to the front of the room, glancing around before her gaze lands on me. “Dakota, why don’t you start us off? What do you think motivates Edmond Dantès throughout the novel?”
Is she kidding me? Why do I have to be the one to go first?
I can feel Hayes’s gaze on me, like a heat I can’t escape. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch him leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. He’s waiting for me to stumble, I just know it.
Clearing my throat, I shift in my seat and glance at Ms. Aldridge.
“Uh… I think Dantès is motivated by revenge, mostly,” I start, my voice more hesitant than I’d like.
“You know, getting back at the people who betrayed him. He’s so consumed by it that it becomes his entire purpose.
It drives everything he does, but it also isolates him from the person he used to be. ”
Ms. Aldridge nods, looking pleased. “Good. Well done, Dakota. And do you think that’s a strength or a flaw?”
“A flaw,” I answer quickly. “It makes him lose sight of what’s really important.”
Before Ms. Aldridge can respond, another voice cuts in from across the room. “A flaw? Really?” Hayes turns in his chair, smirking. “So you think he should’ve just forgiven the people who ruined his life and moved on?”
I grit my teeth, glaring at him. “Forgiveness doesn’t make you weak, Hayden. Holding onto revenge does.” I say, purposefully calling him Hayden just to mess with him.
Hayes scoffs, obviously offended as he crosses his arms. “So you’re saying it’s better to let people walk all over you? That’s weak.”
Ms. Aldridge’s eyebrows shoot up, but she doesn’t interrupt, clearly curious to see where this is going.
I turn in my seat to face him, my voice sharper than I intended. “It’s not about letting people walk all over you. It’s about being better than them.”
“And what does that get you?” he shoots back, his tone cold. “Nothing. If someone screws you over, you make them pay. That’s how you win.”
My chest tightens, anger bubbling up beneath the surface. I’m not just arguing about the book anymore, and we both know it. “Yeah, well, maybe you should think about why you’re so obsessed with revenge in the first place,” I snap. “Because it sounds more like fear than strength.”
Hayes’s smirk falters for just a second, his jaw tightening. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I?” I bite back, leaning forward. “Maybe you’re just too scared to admit it.”
The room is silent now, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. I can feel everyone’s eyes on us, but I don’t care. My gaze is locked on Hayes, the bane of my existence, and I’m not backing down.
Ms. Aldridge finally steps in, her voice sharp. “Alright, that’s enough from both of you. This is not a debate club, and I won’t have you turning my classroom into a battleground.”
“You’re full of shit, Dakota, you know that?” Hayes says, his words laced with anger as he leans forward in his seat, his jaw tight. His tone is low, but it carries every syllable dripping with venom.
I don’t flinch. “Is that so? Well, at least I don’t pretend to be someone I’m not,” I fire back, my voice steady, even as the heat rises in my chest.
A few students murmur quietly, shifting in their seats, clearly uncomfortable, but I don’t care. It’s just me and Hayes now, the rest of the room fading into the background.
“Pretend to be someone I’m not?” Hayes repeats, his voice incredulous, his smirk returning, sharper now. “That’s rich, coming from the guy who hides behind a tough act because deep down, he knows he’s just a little pussy.”
My fists clench under the desk, but I force myself to stay calm. “Better than being a coward who pushes people away because he’s afraid of what they’ll see when they get too close.”
Hayes’s eyes narrow, his expression darkening, and for a moment, I think he’s going to say something else, but Ms. Aldridge’s voice cuts through the tension again.
“Enough! Both of you!” She glares at us, her eyes flashing.
I sink back into my seat, my hands clenched into fists beneath the desk. Hayes looks away, but not before shooting me a glare that feels like a challenge.
Ms. Aldridge sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Since you two seem to have so much energy to spare, you can work it off in detention. Both of you. Today after school.”
My stomach drops, and I hear a few stifled laughs from the back of the room. Great. Exactly what I need—more time stuck with this piece of shit.
“You can’t do that,” Hayes says, his voice laced with venom as he glares at Ms. Aldridge.
His perfect composure cracks just enough to show how much this bothers him.
My guess? He’s never been in detention before.
The prince of Crestview, who walks around like he owns the place, wouldn’t know what it’s like to face any real consequences.
Unlike me. Detention might as well be my second home. I’ve been in and out of it so much at my past schools that it’s almost routine. Fighting, skipping class, mouthing off to teachers—you name it, I’ve probably done it. Coming back here hasn’t exactly helped my track record, either.
Ms. Aldridge doesn’t flinch under Hayes’s glare. She’s dealt with worse, and it shows. “I can and I have, Mr. Griffin. And unless you’d like to spend even more time in detention, I suggest you be quiet and accept the consequences of your behavior.”
Hayes doesn’t back down, his jaw tight as he grips the edge of his desk. For a split second, I think he’s going to argue again, but then he exhales sharply and scoffs, his frustration radiating off him.
I smirk, unable to resist. “First time in detention, Griffin? Don’t worry, I’ll show you the ropes.”
He turns his glare on me, and if looks could kill, I’d be six feet under. “Go fuck yourself, Miller.”
“Both of you, enough,” Ms. Aldridge snaps, her tone sharp. “One more word, and you’ll be spending the rest of the week in detention.”
The room goes silent, but the tension between Hayes and me is electric.
I can feel his anger from here, and if I’m honest, it’s satisfying.
Because for once, the prince of Crestview doesn’t get to walk away scot-free.
And as much as I’m dreading detention with him, there’s a small, petty part of me that’s looking forward to seeing him squirm.
“Also, both of you, report to the principal’s office by the end of this class,” Ms. Aldridge adds, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Shit.
My stomach sinks, and I grip the edge of my desk, my mind racing.
This will be my second trip to the principal’s office, and I’m already on her bad side.
Smoking around school premises, not dressing properly, showing up late—once, sure, but it’s all added up, and I know I’m skating on thin ice.
One more misstep, and I could be suspended—or worse, expelled.
I can’t let that happen. I just can’t. It would break my mother’s heart, and despite how strained things are between us, I don’t want to be the reason she loses faith in me.
She fought so hard to move us back here, to give me some semblance of a fresh start.
Blowing it now would only prove that I haven’t changed at all.
And all because I couldn’t keep my feelings in check.
I glance over at Hayes, who’s staring straight ahead, his jaw tight. He looks annoyed but not scared. Of course he wouldn’t be—Hayes Griffin can do no wrong in this school just like Dalton Middle School. His name alone is probably enough to keep him out of trouble.
For fuck’s sake, his parents are the biggest donors, he could get away with anything. Meanwhile, I’m the one with a history, the one who doesn’t get the benefit of the doubt. If anyone’s walking out of this mess unscathed, it’s him.
I grit my teeth, refusing to look at him again as Ms. Aldridge resumes the lesson. But I can still feel his presence, heavy and unrelenting, like a storm cloud hovering just over my shoulder. And I know this detention isn’t going to end well.