Chapter 15
Briggs
I turn to Parker and Finn, holding up my phone. “This is because of you! Because you wouldn’t do what he said!” I lower my voice. “Now we’re all going to jail!”
“He was gonna do it anyway,” Parker casually says, like he doesn’t even care.
“At least now we’re finally done with this shit,” Finn says.
“Are you fucking serious right now?” I yell at them. “Neither one of you gives a shit what’s going to happen to us?” I get up in their faces. “We’re going to fucking prison! College? Our futures? All of it’s gone. Do you understand that? It’s gone! Over! We’re fucked!”
Parker rolls his eyes. “We’re not going to prison. We’ll get a night or two in jail, get out on bail, and our lawyers will get the charges dropped.”
“They’re not going to drop the charges!” I shove my phone in his face. “He has proof! The video shows us doing it!”
“Then they give us a fine,” Finn says. “Big fucking deal. They’re not gonna lock us away. It’s not like we did it on purpose.”
“We left,” I say. “We didn’t stick around. That was on purpose, and that’s what turns it from an accident into a crime.”
“I don’t know why you’re getting so pissed about this,” Parker says. “Our lawyers will work out a deal and get us off. Like Finn said, they’re not gonna lock us up.”
“It’s not that simple,” I say. “Deals aren’t guaranteed.
It doesn’t matter how much money we pay the lawyers.
If the judge wants to go after us, he will.
And if we don’t get a deal? We end up in front of a jury, three spoiled rich kids who committed a crime and thought they could get away with it.
You think the jurors will have sympathy for us and let us off? ”
Finn shrugs. “Maybe.”
I turn and walk away from them, because if I don’t, I’ll rip their fucking heads off. How can they be so calm about this? How could they not even care? They can’t possibly be that stupid to believe this will all work out, that we’ll just get a fine and move on with our lives.
“I’m going inside,” Parker says.
“Me too,” Finn says, following him.
They go back into the house. It’s good they left. I’m too angry to be around them right now.
I remain outside and let the alcohol clear my system, then get in my car and leave.
When I’m back home in my room, I text Ella. You still awake?
Yeah. Are you at the party?
Just left. I got another — I stop and delete that part. I was going to tell her about the text, but I think I’ll wait until tomorrow. If I tell her now, she’ll be too worried to sleep.
How was it?
Same as every other party. I didn’t want to be there.
Where’d you want to be?
Here. With you.
I would’ve liked that too. Maybe tomorrow.
Yeah, maybe.
What if tomorrow’s the day the texter tells the cops what we did? He said he’d wait, but what if he was just saying that? I can’t think about it. I’ll never sleep if I do.
I get into bed and imagine Ella beside me, in my arms. It calms me enough that I find myself drifting off and eventually fall asleep.
* * *
The next morning, I wake up to loud knocking on my door.
“What?” I yell, feeling groggy.
“Briggs, get up!” my father yells back. “I need you downstairs.”
“Why? When are we leaving?” I grab my phone and check the time. It’s just after eight.
“You’re not going to the office today. I’m going alone.”
I smile, knowing that means I can spend the entire day with Ella.
It’s just what I need after getting that text.
There’s a good chance I’m going to jail soon, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
I was going to try to reason with Ms. Higgins, knowing she’d rather have us learn a lesson than turn us into the cops, but then Ella found out it’s not her.
Ms. Higgins was on a date that night. It can’t be her.
I’m out of ideas. I don’t think I can stop this, so I might as well spend my last days of freedom with Ella. I haven’t even been thinking about the valedictorian thing. What’s the point? I won’t be going to graduation.
“I’ll see you tonight!” I yell to my dad, rolling over on my side.
“Briggs! I need to talk to you! Now!”
What the hell does he want? The day’s just started, and he’s already in a bad mood. It’s probably because of the divorce. He’s been even more unbearable to live with since he got the papers.
“Meet me downstairs in the study!” he says, before stomping back down the hall.
I shove the blankets off me and go to my closet to get a shirt. I should go down there shirtless and let him see what he did to me. I doubt he’d notice, and if he did, he wouldn’t care.
“Why are we meeting in here?” I ask as I go into the study.
He doesn’t answer as he paces the floor.
When he paces like that, he’s either angry or trying to come up with a solution for something.
I’m hoping it’s the latter, and that it has nothing to do with me.
He’s wearing his black suit, which he usually reserves for weekdays.
On weekends, it’s the gray suit or the navy one.
Under the jacket is a crisp white shirt and a dark gray tie that looks new.
I blow out a breath, dreading this and just wanting it to be over. I go over to one of the leather chairs.
“Don’t sit down,” my father says. “This won’t take long.”
I walk back over to him. “Go ahead.”
He paces again. “I was recently made aware of some information that I found to be very disturbing. And it’s something that I’m quite certain you were already aware of, and yet you chose not to tell me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He stops in front of the bookcase and takes a black metal statue from the shelf. He got it on one of his business trips. It’s shaped like a pillar, about a foot tall. I don’t know what it’s supposed to be or why he bought it.
“Briggs,” he says, walking over to me, the statue in his hand, “exactly how many times have I asked you who is ahead of you in class?”
Oh, God, he knows. Shit!
“I don’t know.” I look at the door behind him, which he shut and locked after I came in. Why would he lock it?
“Let me just get to the point.” He looks me in the eye.
“The person ahead of you in class, the person who is slated to be valedictorian, is Ella Quinn.” He grits his teeth as he says her name.
“Ella fucking Quinn!” He raises the statue and slams it into my face, making me stumble back.
I catch myself and frantically search the room, trying to figure out how to get the fuck out of here.
“Did you hear me?” my father screams, stalking up to me. “Ella Quinn! You were beaten by a fucking girl! A girl who lives in a rusted-out trailer with a father who mows fucking lawns for a living!”
He swings the statue at me, but I duck out of the way.
“Dad, just calm down. I can fix this. She’s not that far ahead. I can still beat her. I can be valedictorian.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “I spoke with Ms. Whittaker. She informed me your grades have been slipping this semester. She said you got a C on a paper and a D on a test.”
“It was a quiz and not worth anything. I can make it up. I’ll do extra credit.”
“It’s too late for that, Briggs.” He takes a step toward me for each step I take back.
“According to Ms. Whittaker, you’ve run out of time.
You’re too far behind to beat her. You’ve been beat by a fucking girl!
” He swings the statue, and it hits my neck.
Pain shoots through it, but it’s nothing like the pain coming from where he hit my face. It feels like he broke a bone.
“Stop!” I yell, trying to reach for the statue.
He swings again and hits my shoulder.
That’s it. I’m fucking done with this. I charge at him but get stopped by the statue hitting my stomach, right where it’s bruised. Pain explodes through my core, and I crumple to the floor, clutching my gut.
“You lied to me!” He slams the statue into my back.
“You’ve destroyed our name! Our reputation!
” He whacks me again. “Do you understand the embarrassment and humiliation I’ll be forced to endure having to tell people you’re not going to be valedictorian?
” He stands over me, holding up the statue with both hands.
I’m huddled on the floor, waiting for it, in too much pain to move out of the way.
He laughs. “Look at you. So pathetic. So weak. How could someone like you even be my son?” He lowers the statue to his side.
“I think we’ve talked enough for today.” He goes back to the bookcase and sets the statue down, then yanks on his shirt sleeves so they’re in perfect alignment with his suit jacket.
He arches his shoulders back and holds his head high as he walks to the door and unlocks it. “Goodbye, Briggs.”
When he’s gone, I slowly get up from the floor and go upstairs to my room.
Every time I breathe, my ab muscles feel like they’re ripping apart.
There’s a splitting pain along my lower back, and my shoulders burn.
It’s a type of pain I’ve never felt before.
The hot, throbbing pain in my body is just part of it.
The other part is the pain that comes from knowing my father would do this to me and knowing my mother didn’t stick around to protect me.
Even with all the pain I’m in, I’m not focused on it. All I can think about is Ella and how to keep her safe. I don’t think my father would physically harm her, but who the hell knows? If he did this to his own son, anything is possible.
I think he’s more likely to attack her future than her.
He might try to keep her from going to college.
He’d have no problem calling up a college admissions department and making up a story that would keep Ella from getting accepted.
He’d also have no problem destroying her father’s business.
If her father didn’t have an income, he couldn’t send her to college.