8. Nik
Nik
If I tell my mom I got in a fight again at school, she’s going to kick my ass.
Never mind what she’ll do when she finds out I quit.
I’m eighteen and sick to death of the place.
So, when principal Wallace said I was suspended, I told him to take that suspension and shove it up his ass because I wasn’t coming back.
Instead of going home to break the news, I’m sitting at the park again, waiting for school to let out so I can go home. They always notify her anyway, but coming here buys me a little time before the inevitable.
I’ve never loved school, but after what happened with Tristan, it’s turned into my own personal hell. I didn’t have a ton of friends in my grade before I dated him, but I have none now.
And Akers is always busy with the club. At least I still had him last year. I wish they’d never held me back. Then I’d have graduated with him, and none of this would be happening.
I’m not smart like him, though. If I were, things would be so much easier.
“Shouldn’t you be at school?” a voice asks from behind me.
I shrug. Turning around, Ash’s brother, Shane, is staring down at me. “I quit.”
Why does he keep popping up?
I wasn’t really going to jump the day he saw me on the bridge a couple of months ago—I don’t think. It’s just something I do when I have a shitty day. Sometimes I like to think about what would happen if I were just gone.
What would those assholes at school say? Would any of them feel bad for the way they treated me? Would anyone pretend we were friends? Would my funeral be empty?
I bet those fake fuckers would show up and lie through their teeth about how much they were going to miss me.
“Why?”
“Because I got in a fight.”
His brows raise.
“Some bitch called me a slut. Of course, Mr. Wallace didn’t hear that. I was gonna get suspended for smacking her head into a locker, and she was gonna go back to class telling everyone that Nik Morrison is a crazy, slutty bitch. So, I quit.”
He pulls out a cigarette and places it between his lips. His shaggy brown hair looks like he just rolled out of bed, and the sun reflects off his brown eyes, catching on the little gold flecks. As he flicks the lighter, I can’t peel my gaze away from the muscles in his tattooed forearm.
“Why’d she say that?”
My brows pinch. “Because that’s what everyone thinks. I’m surprised you haven’t heard.”
“Okay…? Why do they think that?” He takes another drag.
I start to tell him it’s none of his damn business, but something stops me. I just want someone to listen without judgment, and lord knows Shane has no business judging anyone for poor choices.
For some reason I blurt out, “Because some jackass told everyone I cheated on him.”
I want to take it back immediately.
His eyes widen. “Did you?”
I shrug, dropping my eyes to the ground.
He scoffs. “Sounds like he’s a douchebag.”
I lift my gaze to meet his, sort of wishing I’d told him the whole story, but that’d be weird.
Blurting out my biggest secret to a man I barely know would definitely be too much—even for me.
And telling someone is what got me in this position last time.
“So, now what?”
I exhale sharply and stare across the playground. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll have to find a job. Honestly, I probably wasn’t going to graduate anyway. My grades suck.”
“Didn’t you already get held back once?” he asks, scowling.
My cheeks heat, and I rear back. “Yeah. I did, asshole.”
His mouth almost lifts to a smile. “I was just saying, maybe it’s good you quit unless you wanted to make a career out of being a high school student.”
I glare at him. “Fuck off.”
“Sorry.” He chuckles. “But honestly, you don’t need it anyway. I have a feeling you’re one of those people who’ll always land on their feet.”
“Are you calling me a cat?”
“No! I’m saying, you’ll figure it out. I’m trying to be nice.”
I roll my eyes and look away. “You should keep trying. You’re not very good at it.”
He laughs for real, lifting a foot to rest his ankle on his knee.
“You’re so fucking weird,” I bite.
He looks at me for a second, thinking but not saying a word before a deep belly laugh escapes him. “You’re fucking weird too.” He clears his throat. “You hungry?”
“Uh—”
“Okay, let’s go eat.”
Then, he just walks away toward an old red-and-white truck that’s parked along the curb. “Come on,” he shouts without looking back at me.
I scramble from the bench and race toward him.
The inside of the vehicle isn’t what I was expecting.
It’s an older truck, but it’s in really good shape and smells like the leather air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror.
It’s also much cleaner than I’d expected.
Akers’s truck looks like the sole purpose of the passenger seat is to house his collection of fast-food bags and empty cigarette packs.
As he starts the truck, a song I’ve never heard plays on the radio. He doesn’t look at me before pulling away from the curb. Actually, he doesn’t say a single word as we drive across town, almost as if I’m not here at all.
It’s a little uncomfortable, and I’m starting to wonder if I imagined him inviting me all together as he pulls into the Dee’s parking lot and turns off the truck.
Finally, he breaks the silence. “We’re kind of alike.”
“Okay…?”
“Everyone thinks they know so much about me because they heard what happened with my dad, but none of them really know anything.”
“Yeah…” I mumble. “Aside from calling your sister, I don’t really talk to anyone. I used to be pretty close to my mom, but I don’t know how to be around her anymore.”
“Why is that?”
I get that same urge to tell him the truth. Instead, I bury it and say, “I don’t know. She doesn’t really get me anymore, I guess.”
After we eat, Shane takes me home, and I finally work up the courage to tell my mom I dropped out before taking the lecture and heading to bed.
I lay awake for hours but can’t sleep with the weight of the day settling over me like a heavy blanket.
My mom’s spent my whole life working her ass off to give me everything she didn’t have.
She came from nothing and got pregnant when she was barely eighteen.
When my dad left, she worked two and three jobs to save up enough to go to college.
I could see how disappointed she was when I told her I dropped out.
And that crushes me. She wanted me to become more than she is, but I’m not sure I’m capable of that.
I’m not good at anything, and I’m not exactly likable.
Most people find me off putting because I say whatever comes to my mind.
I’ve tried not to, but it just comes out.
Tossing and turning for hours eventually becomes dozing until the sun comes up.
In the light of a new day, I can’t stop my mind from wandering to him.
No one could blame me for noticing how attractive Ash’s brother is, but that’s all it was until yesterday.
As I get ready for the day and set out on a mission to decide what to do with my life, I’m still daydreaming about how in the hell I’m going to see him again because I desperately want to see him again.
And once I’ve filled out an application at Dee’s, I’m still concocting a plan as I head to the park to kill time. Without school, it’s not like I have anything else to do. A couple of moms sit on a bench a few yards away watching their toddlers play.
I pull out my sketchpad and start drawing. It’s the one thing that quiets the world. There’s something about watching the way the pencil glides across the paper that takes me to another place. A world where I’m not fucked up and people don’t look at me like I’m wrong.
My dad used to come around occasionally when I was younger.
I have a few memories of him, but he stopped when I was seven or eight.
I think he knew I wasn’t worth the work it took to be in my life.
He had a wife who was pregnant at the time.
Leaving them to come see me every month was probably a hassle.
He wrote my mom a big check to help her take care of me, kissed me goodbye, and I’ve never seen him again.
It used to bother me. I missed him, missed our playdates. It hurt my mom when I’d get upset and cry for him, though. So, I stopped letting it get to me and buried it away.
I rarely think of him now.
A loud rumble comes from behind me. When I turn, Shane’s parking his bike on the curb and climbing off. He pulls off his helmet and sets it on the bike before strutting toward me.
Those stupid butterflies take flight in my stomach the closer he gets.
“Thought you might be here.” He grins, and it’s such a stark contrast to his cold demeanor; it causes warmth to spread in my chest.
I shrug, turning my back to him. He moves around to the front of the bench and takes a seat beside me but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he just stares.
My face scrunches. “Do you need something?”
He laughs. “Back to the bitchy act, huh?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Alright.” He nods. “Well, I thought you might want some company. It’s gotta be boring out here all day by yourself.”
Pulling my legs up, I cross them under me and go back to my drawing. I want to tell him that I really do want his company but immediately think better of it. “I’m fine.”
He leans back, resting his arm across the top of the bench and lets his legs fall wide. His eyes drop to my drawing. “That mine?”
He smirks, gesturing to the black motorcycle I’m still working on.
“Nope.”
“Liar.”
Huffing, I slam my pencil down on the sketchbook. “Can I help you? Why the fuck are you following me?”
He jolts forward, his brows lifting. “Following you? First, I find you trying to jump off a fucking bridge, then sitting at the park after quitting school. If that’s not a cry for help, I don’t know what is. I’m not having that shit on my conscience.”
I rear back, blinking. “One, I wasn’t going to jump. I was just having a bad day. Second of all, I didn’t know you had one of those.”
He frowns. “I didn’t either. But here we are. So, what’s on the agenda?”
“Nothing. I’m going to sit here and draw, and you”—I point at him—“are going to fuck off.”
He grins again and it turns my insides to goo.
Get a fucking grip, Nik. He’s not that cute.
“How about this, I’ll keep showing up here, and if you wanna talk to me, great. If not, I’ll just sit here and stare at you.”
I narrow my eyes. “You’re a fucking weirdo.”
He winks. “Or… we could go for a ride.”
I look over his shoulder to the bike he nods at and try to hold back a smile. Shrugging, I say, “I mean… it’s really nice out. A ride wouldn’t be the worst idea.”
He grins, standing and grabbing my hand, barely giving me enough time to slip my feet into my boots before dragging me toward the black Harley.
I’ve been on a bike a few times in my life, but not a single one of those experiences compare to being on the back of his, my arms wrapped around him. His hand on my knee. For the first time, maybe ever, I feel totally free.
And that feeling doesn’t wear off even a little when he shows up again the next day.
And the next day.
And the day after that.