by L V Chase
“Tell me,” he says. “Tell me how much you want to be bent over a Bugatti and fucked until dawn.”
His arousal is pressing up against my hip. Adrenaline pulses through me. Part of my thoughts are insisting that I can work through this, but the other half is telling me that I’m being unfaithful.
But I can’t be unfaithful when I’m not with anybody.
Roman bows his head, his mouth so close to mine that I can smell the alcohol under the mint. I turn my face at the last second. His kiss lands on my cheek. I jerk my arms back so fast that they slam against the trophy case glass, sending a ripple of pain through me. I ignore it, shoving Roman with all of my strength.
He stumbles back. He hurriedly drops his backpack to cover his erection.
I run toward homeroom. As I skip up the stairs, I pass by Klay.
For a split second, time’s on hold. Our eyes meet. I must look like a coward, flooded with fear. But what’s more surprising is that his eyebrows are pulled together with a faint concern.
“Sadie?” he asks, but I’m rushing forward, and I’m too far away before I recognize what he said and the way that worry enveloped his voice.
Or that’s just how I want him to feel. Maybe he never said anything, and my mind created a scenario where he used my real name instead of Bell Jar.
I must have misread his face. He must be worried about someone else, because he wouldn’t be concerned about me. I’m not that valuable, and he’s not that kind.
15
Sadie
I take Roman’s seat in biology before he shows up. It’s a risk—I have no desire to interact with Roman again—but I need to talk to Ethan.
“Hello, lovely,” Ethan says, turning to me.
He’s wearing a blue vest with a crest on it. I don’t want to know if it’s his family crest or a brand name that’s too expensive for me to recognize. Possibly both.
“What did I do to deserve your radiant presence?” he asks.
“You said I owed you for your entertainment,” I reply. “Doesn’t that mean you already know the answer to your own question?”
“That is a remarkably well-stated argument,” Ethan says. “My rebuttal is that, after the frog incident, we should consider ourselves equal. But I would guess that you’re about to ask me for something, so maybe the scales are about to tip in my favor again.”
“Maybe,” I say.
I show him my cell phone, where I’d pulled up an article about his parents. The article discusses their label as royalty in the courtroom because they’re both known by numerous law journals to be some of the best trial lawyers in the U.S.
“When you said your father was a lawyer, you didn’t mention that your mother was one too, and that they’re both quite good at their jobs.”
“I’m not inclined to bragging, and if I was, I’d boast about myself,” he says, tilting his head to peer at the article.
He straightens up again, and I slide my phone back into my bag’s front pocket. It’s hard to forget that it’s the place where he’d previously left a dissected frog.
“But, yes,” Ethan says. “My parents are very good at their jobs. Why? Do you want to claim damages for the frog situation? I’d find it an interesting exercise to go up against my father.”
I place my hands on my knees and take a deep breath. “No. I was thinking about…well, you mentioned the conservatorship, which I don’t like the idea of, but you picked up an idea for how to deal with it quickly, and I have a new problem that I’m hoping you or your parents could help me with. I’m hoping you can come up with a solution just as quickly. I can’t pay much right now, but we could work out a payment plan.”
“What’s the dilemma?” he asks, leaning forward.
I press my fingertips into my knees. I need to remember that I’m doing this for my grandmother. Asking for Ethan’s help is a small price to pay for her good health.
“I don’t know all of the details,” I start.
He’s gazing at me with an intensity that’s difficult to stare back at. I focus on his left ear.
“But my grandmother is having healthcare issues,” I continue. “Well, she’s having actual issues with her health, but she also can’t afford her deductible anymore. She said they changed it last year. I’m not sure what her insurance is, but I could call her to find out.”
“I can get my father to call your grandmother, and he can conduct some research into the issue. Don’t worry about the money,” he says.
I jot down my grandmother’s number, quickly sliding it over to him as Roman walks into the room. I stand up.
“Thank you, Ethan,” I say.
I retreat back to my seat. I make myself as small as possible. I wait for him to crumple up the paper I gave him and laugh in my face or tell me it was another one of his jokes, and he’d never help me. But he stays facing forward. He and Roman trade barbs about some basketball game. Roman doesn’t glance my way, not even once.
I don’t trust Ethan. If I’m honest, I trust him even less after what happened with Roman. But I can’t deny that he seems eager to help me, which is significantly more than anybody else around here is willing to do. If his parents are as good as the internet says, they could be the last chance to help my grandmother.
Klay walks in right after Mr. Miller. His eyes move between Ethan and me, foraging for a piece of information that will explain what he notices in our faces. After Klay sits down, he doesn’t look at me. Instead, he keeps his eyes on Ethan like he’s drilling into the back of his head.
I understand the feeling, because I want to split open Klay’s head. I want to read his thoughts. I want to know what makes him hate, what makes him angry, and what turns him on. I want him in ways that are trivial and in ways that are immense. I want him in the most destructive, humiliating way.
“Keep your eyes to yourself, Bell Jar,” he says.
Heat rushes to my cheeks.
I turn forward, but all I have to look at now is the back of Roman’s hair. I bow my head, focusing my attention on my backpack until class starts. When I try to steal a glance at Klay, I catch him looking at me. He gazes at me a second longer before turning to Mr. Miller, who is talking about how we need to conduct an experiment with our lab partners before Christmas break.
When I shift my eyes to Mr. Miller, I still see the dark brown shade of Klay’s eyes, and everything else seems too bright. His eyes bind me to the darker side of this world, and it’s frightening that I like it.
16
Sadie
When I get off the bus, my grandmother is waiting outside for me. I rush over to her, grabbing onto her with more force than I intended.
“Is everything okay?” I ask. “Did you faint again?”
“No, no,” she says. “I’m fine. I’m great.”
As I stop checking her arms and legs for signs of weakness or injury, I see that she’s smiling.
“I’ve gotten the best news, and I bet you were involved in making it happen, so thank you, Sadie. You are so much like your father. You’re so good.
“What news?” I ask, loosening my grip on her.
“Adam Maxwell called me. They called my insurance and the hospital, and it sounds like I’m going to be coming into some money. Mr. Maxwell said a lot…I’m not completely certain I understood all of it, but it sounds like the hospital purposefully charged me for outpatient care the last three times. I should have been charged with inpatient care, and inpatient care is covered by Medicare. Mr. Maxwell is in negotiations, and it sounds like there’s going to be a settlement.”
My grandmother nods once, with a firm expression. “They don’t want to go to court because of how it will look if the public finds out. Mr. Maxwell says I could get a fair amount of money. He’s loaned me some to use now until they reach a settlement.”
“Wow,” I say. “It’s terrible what the hospital did, but…I’m amazed that Ethan’s father is doing so much. I just talked to Ethan earlier today. I can’t believe he got so much d
one so quickly.”
“Me, too,” she says.
With my arm around her, I start walking with her back to the house.
My grandmother nods cheerfully. “I’m amazed that you managed to get the Maxwells to help. If you remembered them, you wouldn’t be so surprised by their results. Nearly everyone in town is afraid to so much as look at them the wrong way. We’ve all heard how ruthless they can be.”
She leans closer and lowers her voice, her graying hair brushing against my shoulder. “I’ve heard that they’re buddies with a good chunk of the Marshall police department, too. A perk of being in the legal system, I guess. I never imagined I could have them on my side.”
As I open the front door, the sound of screeching tires cracks through the silence. I spin around. A black Jeep brakes in front of the house. It turns sharply into the driveway, pulling right up to my grandmother and me.
I let out a slow breath, keeping a tight grip on the door. “Grandma, this is—”
“Dr. Harrington’s boy,” she says, nodding. “I’d recognize that jawline anywhere.”
Klay turns off his Jeep before stepping out, sending a shot of dread through me since it means he’s intending to stay for more than a couple of minutes. I expect his usual wrathful instability, but there’s almost a smile on his face as he walks up to my grandmother.
“Mrs. Blair, it’s so nice to meet you,” he says, taking her hand and giving it a brief shake. “I’ve heard so much about you. I’m Klay Harrington, Sadie’s lab partner in biology.”
“It’s nice to meet you too, Klay,” my grandmother says. “Your father did surgery on me nearly a decade ago. The man has magic hands. I’d love if you sent him my gratitude.”
Klay’s nostrils flare for the briefest second. I glance at my grandmother. She didn’t notice.
“That’s incredibly kind for you,” he says. “He has an impressive memory for all of his past patients, so I’m certain he remembers you. I’ll tell him that you’re happy with his work. He loves to hear from past patients.”
“You knew his father?” I ask.
She raises both of her eyebrows, her hand pressing over the cross hanging from her neck.
“Well, Miss Sadie, I didn’t know you were lab partners with his son,” she says. “Dr. Harrington is a bit of a celebrity around here. He was featured on ABN International News, wasn’t he, Klay?”
“Yes,” Klay says, giving a curt nod. “He was being profiled for his work as a cardiothoracic surgeon and giving his input on the situation with the governor at the time.”
As he glances at me, I quickly turn back to my grandmother.
“I didn’t know his family was so well-known,” I say.
My hand is getting cramped as it continues to hold the door, but I can’t seem to let go. I need to hold something to keep me from falling apart or flinging myself at Klay, and this door will have to do.
“Well-known and respected,” she says, smiling at Klay.
She’s almost acting like a schoolgirl with a crush. If I’m that obvious about my attraction to him, I hope God would have the grace to send a lightning bolt—maybe five of them—straight down at my head.
My grandmother beams. “His father isn’t just a great surgeon. He’s also bought and restored all of the hospitals nearby. Is it three of them, Klay?”
Part of me wonders what someone as famous as Klay’s father is doing in our town. The same for Ethan’s illustrious parents. Roman seemed to think his family was well-known, too. What’s the chance that all three of them would decide to camp in our little corner of the world?
“Four,” Klay says. “He recently bought one in Camden.”
“The service is so much better now,” my grandmother says. “You might not remember it, but a couple of years ago, we went there because my abdomen hurt so much, and they made the experience so comfortable.”
“Oh. That’s…good.” I adjust the backpack strap on my shoulder. “I have a lot of homework to do, so I’ll let you two talk and—”
“I came here to talk about the biology class experiment,” Klay cuts in, a hint of his familiar vehemence returning. He adjusts the collar of his button-up shirt, his relaxed demeanor returning. “It’s important that we’re on the same page for this project. It’s a quarter of our grade.”
My grandmother claps her hands together, the sound nearly making me jump. “I have some cookies. They’re just store-bought, but I’ll set them up while you two talk about your schoolwork.”
With a newfound vigor, she scurries through the opened front door and back into the house.
“Shut the door,” Klay tells me, nodding to my death grip on the wooden thing.
I close it slowly.
“I need—” Klay begins.
I cut him off. “I didn’t close the door because you told me to.”
I take a few steps away from the door, passing by him so closely that it’s impossible to not take inventory of his body. His broad chest, the tightness of his shirt sleeves around his biceps, his large hands, and his typically clean-shaven face is marked by a 5 o’clock shadow. Put together, it’s more tempting than any dream or fantasy my head could come up with.
As I face him, his dark eyes catch me like they did in biology class. I look away, not risking the dangers that come with gawking at the devil.
“I don’t want my grandmother involved in your mind games. Why don’t you get back into your Jeep and go?”
“Because I don’t want to,” he says, his voice softer than mine but with much sharper edges. “And I need to know what happened between you and Ethan today. You two were acting strange, and Ethan wouldn’t tell me anything during shop class. Tell me, and I’ll gladly leave.”
I shrug, folding my arms over my chest. “Nothing happened between Ethan and me.”
He takes a small step forward. I rock back onto my heels, my arms uncrossing and raised between us like I’m ready to fight or reach for him. He glances at my hands with mild amusement.
“I know something happened,” he says.
He steps forward again, but this time I don’t move. My hands are almost touching his chest.
“Tell me what it was.” His voice is rough, urgent.
I won’t let him win so easily. “I don’t need to do anything,” I reply.
He pulls me forward by my upper arms so quickly that for a brief moment, my feet leave the ground. His hands remain gripped around my arms, reminding me how much bigger he is than me. After a second, his hands relax, but they don’t move.
“This is important, Sadie. I need to know what happened between the two of you. Tell me, and I’ll go. Your grandma doesn’t need to ever see me again.”
I make a mistake. I look directly in his eyes, despite all of my effort to avoid them. In his eyes, I can see his urgency is a bullet in a barrel. For reasons I doubt I’ll ever fully understand, he needs this answer from me.
But it involves my grandmother, and if he tries to hurt her to get to me, it’ll be my fault.
“He’s just helping out with my grandmother,” I say. “It doesn’t concern you.”
We both turn as the door swings open. His hands drop away from my arms as my grandmother steps out of the house, carrying a plate covered with cookies.
“Why don’t you two come in?” she asks. “Klay, our house isn’t as beautiful as yours, but we have plenty of space for you and Sadie to work on your project.”
“Thank you so much, Mrs. Blair,” Klay says to her, his half-hearted smile returning to his face. “But I just got a text from my mother, and I have to go to the store to pick up her prescription. Sadie and I already decided that our experiment is going to be testing what type of exercise is most effective for increasing muscle growth. I’m sorry I couldn’t stick around. Sadie, I’ll start working on a write-up for the experiment.”
“At least take a cookie,” my grandmother says, shoving the plate toward him.
He picks up the top cookie, taking a quick bite out of it. He swall
ows.
“Pretty good,” he says. “Surprisingly good. Thank you, Mrs. Blair. I see where Sadie gets her generosity from.”
He turns around, jumping back into his Jeep. I turn to my grandmother as I hear the door snap shut. As she opens her mouth, the Jeep roars to life. I look over my shoulder to watch it reverse onto the road. It pivots around before heading east.
“What happened?” my grandmother asks.
I turn to her. The cookies on her plate are massive chocolate chip cookies, but they don’t look surprisingly good.
“I have no idea,” I admit, the first honest thing I’ve said since Klay arrived.
17
Sadie
I arrive at biology early, having carried my binder to my previous class. I sit down in my chair. The only other student there is Beth, a girl who mostly keeps to herself while she draws comics. I set my backpack down beside me and let out a slow breath.
I look over at Klay’s chair. He wasn’t in homeroom. I considered the idea that he was sick. He had mentioned picking up a prescription for his mother, which may have been a lie, but his mother could be genuinely sick and the basis for his lie. That idea didn’t bring me comfort like it should have.
The only thing worse than having him humiliating and torturing me is having him disappear.
When Ethan walks in, I stand up again. I can’t stop a smile. He smiles back at me.
“From that expression, I’m going to infer that you heard my father called your grandmother,” he says as he sits down in his chair.
“Yes,” I say, leaning against the table to be closer to him. “Thank you so, so much. You have no idea how much this means. It’s the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me.”
“I will gladly accept your gratitude,” Ethan says, his body slightly swaying with happiness.
