Chapter 29
Mallorie Jade
“Why are you so weird? Can’t you just leave me alone?” A male voice yells from down the hallway.
It’s after school and other than the voices, I’m the only one left in the building.
Hayes texted me a couple of nights ago and asked me if I would go on a trip with him and the football boys. He wouldn’t tell me what it was, but I have a feeling it has to do with what his dad said last week at his house.
It’s Friday, and the team has a bye week. I’d been locking up my office and heading to meet the bus when I heard the yelling.
Steering my body towards the noise, I soften my footsteps and slowly approach.
“I’m—I’m sorry,” a girl’s voice replies.
Awareness stiffens my spine. I know that voice.
Rounding the corner at the end of the hallway, I stop in my tracks when I see Bella standing in front of Tanner.
Bella’s face crumbles like she might cry, looking everywhere but at the boy in front of her. She takes a step back from Tanner. His back is to me, and even though I can’t see his face, I see his shoulders flinch with each step Bella takes, putting distance between them.
“Hey,” I say, calling their attention to me. “What’s going on here?”
Tanner turns his head over his shoulder to look at me, and Bella takes the opportunity to discreetly wipe at her cheeks, brushing off the tears that have fallen.
“Nothing,” she whispers, and I recognize the move for what it is—she’s protecting him.
It’s something I did for Langston over and over again, and I wish I hadn’t because sometimes I wonder if his death can be blamed on that. He was always protected—never facing the consequences of his actions—but death was not a consequence anyone could protect him from.
Tanner grits his teeth, the muscle in his jaw jumping, but he doesn’t disagree with Bella.
“It didn’t sound like nothing from down the hall. Tanner,” I say, drawing closer until I stand between the two teenagers. Nodding toward Bella, I continue, “I think you owe her an apology.”
His mouth drops open like he can’t believe I’m making him own up to his actions. “No way. She’s constantly popping up out of nowhere, begging me to be her friend. I just want to be left alone.”
Bella drops her head, looking at the floor. Heat flames into her cheeks. “I go to this school too, Tanner. I can’t help that we are in the same places, and if asking you how your day has been is bothering you, then you win—I’ll stop.”
Bella says the words like she’s eating dirt. It’s obvious how much they pain her, but Tanner doesn’t bother to notice.
“Finally,” he mutters, walking down the hallway to where the bus waits outside.
I watch him go until he disappears through the doors, my stomach a ball of anger and worry. When the door closes behind him, I turn back to Bella.
“Bella—” I start, but she just shakes her head.
I’ve spent considerable time with Bella these last three weeks. She’s one of my favorite students that comes in. She always has a smile for everyone, even when her blood sugar is off. I don’t think I’ve ever heard her complain about anything, and she doesn’t do that now. She just stands there, letting the silent tears slip down her face.
So I do the only thing I can think of to help her—I wrap my arms around her, pulling her to me to hold her.
Her head drops to my shoulder, and I rub my hands over her hair, offering her the only comfort I know—the comfort I wish someone would have given me when I was in this exact position with Langston.
“I’m going to tell you something, Bella, and I want you to listen to me. I love your heart. I love that you want to be friends with Tanner, but I need you to realize that you can’t save everyone. Tanner is going through something hard right now, and we can keep extending our hand, offering him help—but we can’t make him take it.”
Her tears soak into my shirt.
“Do you think it’s me? Sometimes I can be annoying—everyone says so.” Her voice is broken—the voice of a kid who doesn’t know where she fits. It’s one I know all too well, too.
“No, honey. I don’t think it’s you. Everyone has their struggles, and we all deal with them differently. Tanner is just dealing with them in a way that isolates him. Don’t, for a minute, think it’s your fault.”
I can hear myself say the words, but the thing about advice is that it’s easy to give but hard to follow. Since Langston died, I’ve taken his choices on my shoulders and made them mine.
It’s hard to let go of guilt when grief keeps you there. This situation with Tanner and Bella makes it difficult not to step back and examine how things actually happened with Hayes, Langston, and me. But even when something is staring you right in the face, it’s often easier to deny it.
Bella’s sniffles start to fade, and she lifts her head from my shoulder, wiping at the remnants of tears still on her face.
“Thanks, MJ. I’m sorry for the shirt,” she says, giving me a watery smile and pointing to my shoulder where there’s a wet stain.
“Anytime, Bella.”
She still looks sad when she hikes her backpack up higher on her shoulder and says, “I’ve got to go. My mom’s waiting on me, but—can you just maybe tell Tanner I’m sorry.”
I shake my head. “No, Bella. I won’t because you have no reason to be sorry. You were only trying to be his friend, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Don’t apologize to people you don’t owe apologies to.”
She chews on her lip, thinking about what I said before she nods and waves, walking out to meet her mom.
______________________
My anger at Tanner doesn’t have time to fade as I march out the doors of the school to the bus.
Stomping up the steps, I stop beside the driver and let my eyes trail over the players until I find the one I’m looking for. He’s sitting in the back with his headphones in, not bothering to speak to anyone around him.
The other players must notice the rage on my face because as I walk down the aisle to where Tanner is sitting, they turn in their seats, making room for me to walk.
When I get to where he’s sitting, I stand beside him with my arms crossed, waiting for him to look up.
I know he sees me, but he keeps his eyes on his phone, ignoring me.
My temper flares, and I see red.
Yanking out his headphones, I grab his arm and pull him up from his seat and down the aisle.
“Hey, you can’t do that.”
I stop in my tracks and slowly turn to face him, rage simmering deep in my veins.
The smile I give him is anything but nice. “Why? Do you want to call up your stepdad and have me fired? Go ahead. It’s not like I need the job. I have plenty of money, Tanner, and here’s the thing about that—it gets hard to push people around when you can’t intimidate people with your status. You and your stepdad would do well to remember that.”
His mouth falls open, and I smirk, turning back around and dragging him the rest of the way down the aisle.
This is not normally how I would handle things with him, but thoughts of Langston and the idea that I might have failed him by not letting him face his own consequences have me doing things differently.
Hayes is getting on the bus at the same time we reach the steps. His eyes bounce between Tanner and me. They land on my hand on Tanner’s arm. The anger on my face must be evident because he backs down the steps without a word and follows me to the sidewalk as I drag Tanner along.
When we are far enough away from the bus so that the other boys can’t hear, I spin, placing my hands on my hips and glaring at the kid I want so desperately to help.
Standing beside me, Hayes asks, “What’s going on? What happened?”
But I ignore him, only focusing on Tanner.
“You know what, Tanner, there are a lot of people that care about you. Maybe you can’t see that, but there is. And I get that you are going through a rough patch—I get that more than you will ever know—but you can’t treat people like you did back there. You owe Bella an apology.”
He rolls his eyes, raising his voice. “I’ve already told you that I’m not apologizing. I just want to be left alone.”
“Hey,” Hayes says, stepping in between Tanner and me. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but you aren’t going to talk to MJ that way. Tanner, we care about you, and I know it’s hard to see past that anger that’s building up. You have to talk to someone, and if it’s not going to be us—then find someone, even if it’s someone your age. Have you been keeping track of your headaches?”
Tanner shakes his head. “I don’t need anyone, man, and my headaches are fine. Mind your own business.”
Spinning, he walks away. I step forward to stop him because I haven’t said all there is to say, but Hayes put his hand on my arm, stopping me. When I look up at him, he’s shaking his head. “Let him go.”
“Are you serious right now? He was mean to her, Hayes, and you and I both know it didn’t do us any good to let Langston walk away.”
“Hey,” he says, tugging my arm, “look at me.”
I want to fight it, to deny what he’s asking because I’m angry—with Tanner, and him, and Langston too for leaving—I’m angry at it all, but I give in, tilting my face up and letting him pull me to him just an inch.
It’s hard to swallow past the sadness that’s filling my throat. Hayes’s fingers slide down my arm and interlace between mine.
“I’m letting him walk away for your sake, not his. You’re mad right now, and I get that, but once you cool down, you’ll regret handling it this way. I don’t want you to have any more regrets.”
“Do you think we are ever going to get through to him?” I whisper around the tears.
“I don’t know, baby, but we can’t give up on him. He needs us.”
“But are we enough?”
Hayes’s eyes are sad as he remembers a time when another boy needed our help, but no matter how hard we tried—we weren’t enough.
“Maybe we aren’t, but we have to keep trying.”