He wouldn’t ditch. Not the day before the dance—that meant he wouldn’t be allowed to go to the dance, which would mean Brittany would probably kill him. Since he seemed to do everything she told him to, I doubted he would.
That’s what I thought, and what I continued to think…until the tardy bell rang to signal the beginning of first period. The announcements came on soon after, and some girl started talking about how the teachers were now going to pass out the ballots. Someone from the office would be by to collect them before first period was over.
I was confused as the teacher passed them out, slow to turn my eyes down to the small rectangular paper on my desk. Two lines labeled King and Queen of Winter. The ballots were write-ins, which Bobbi’s friend in the office would tally and fudge the results of.
But Archer wasn’t here, which meant he couldn’t go to the dance…which meant he couldn’t win Winter King. If there were any votes for him, they wouldn’t be counted. The crown would automatically go to the next boy with the second most votes.
Well, Brittany wasn’t going to be happy about that, was she?
Once the class was done voting, the teacher gathered the ballots up and placed them on the corner of his desk. Someone from the office showed up about ten minutes later, awkwardly knocking and interrupting his lesson, to which he could only roll his eyes and hand over the ballots.
All throughout class, I couldn’t stop glimpsing at his empty seat. Was it normal for Archer to miss a day? I couldn’t remember him ever missing a day before, though it wasn’t like I’d been here forever. I didn’t have that much past experience to judge him on, but still. Something just didn’t feel right, but I had no idea what that something was.
I wouldn’t find out what happened until fourth period, as it turned out. Until I sat down and spotted Bobbi from across the room. The moment her gaze landed on me, she hurried to my side. She pulled us to the back of the classroom; we had probably fifteen or so minutes before Ms. Haber ventured out of her office. That teacher was never on time, even though we were on the same set schedule every day.
Bobbi’s long brown hair was up in a low bun, looking cute even though it was messy. I looked like a swamp monster when I tried doing a messy bun, but that was beside the point. “Jaz,” she whispered, “did you hear?” Before I had the chance to respond, she shook her head. “The shit around here really is hitting the fan.”
I blinked. “What are you talking about?” Did Ryan wake up?
“My dad got a tip yesterday about Mr. Vega,” Bobbi explained. “Apparently Mr. Vega has a thing for underage girls. Whatever was given to my dad was enough for the police to arrest him and charge him.”
The world around me stopped. Archer’s dad was arrested for liking underaged girls a bit too much? What did that mean? Did that mean the police had evidence Mr. Vega had done something with a girl under eighteen? Did that mean someone was blackmailing him or…
My eyes widened.
Did Vaughn do this? Vaughn told me he was going to dig up the dirt on Archer, but this was…this was more than that. If Vaughn had fabricated evidence—as was done to Jacob three years ago, so I knew it was possible—it was more than getting back at Archer.
It was literally tearing his family apart.
“Oh, my God,” I whispered, feeling cold. So very cold, all the way down to my bones. This…I was in way over my head. I shouldn’t be doing any of this. I shouldn’t—
“Don’t get cold feet about the dance,” Bobbi quickly said, noting my expression. “Even if Archer’s not there, Brittany will still want her crown. We’re still going to take it away from her.” She sounded so sure of herself, so certain of our plan, like nothing could go wrong. Like, finally, the villains were getting what was coming to them.
Why didn’t any of this feel right? Why didn’t I feel good, knowing I was helping to undo the bullies who’d nearly had me gang-raped twice, the people who had ostracized me, used me, and thrown me aside like trash?
I forced myself to nod, saying, “You’re right.”
“Of course I’m right,” she said. “Rumors always flew, especially after what happened a few years ago, but I never thought Archer’s dad was one of them.”
“One of who?”
Bobbi looked uncomfortable, and she sighed. “You know everything that happened with Celeste Chambers a few years back? Well, before her dad was found cut up into dozens of pieces, he used to have parties. Years ago—before Celeste was kidnapped. At these parties, uh…” She shivered. “Sorry, I feel weird talking about it.”
I had no idea where she was going with this, but now that she’d started, I had to hear it. “What happened at the parties?”
“Nathaniel would bring Celeste and make her the star of the party,” she whispered, frowning, looking as though she’d rather discuss anything else. “He’d let his friends take turns, and I’m sure that meant he was also doing it. The only reason I know is because my dad was trying to nail the ring for years, but no one ever fessed up. All he had to go on were rumors.”
Oh, fuck. Oh, no. Was she saying what I thought she was? Did Nathaniel Chambers pimp out his underaged daughter to his rich friends? And, when he was killed, did Mr. Vega take up his mantle or something?
No. Oh, God, no. I didn’t want to think about these things. I felt sick. How the hell could anyone do that to their own daughter?
“And Mr. Vega…” I couldn’t even talk. Fuck, what was Archer going through right now? I couldn’t even imagine.
“Maybe he was one of them. Maybe he never got over his fascination with young girls. I don’t know,” Bobbi spoke, eyebrows creasing. “All I know is, no one in Midpark is an angel. Everyone is hiding something. I feel like it’s only a matter of time until everything comes out.”
Ms. Haber chose that moment to walk out of her office, so Bobbi and I hurried to our seats. I did message Archer, though I knew I shouldn’t. I should’ve deleted his number from my phone the night he’d fucked me over, the night I’d realized how much I’d been lied to, but I never did. My heart still felt for the cute blonde, and now my heart hurt for him.
I felt bad. And if, somehow, this was Vaughn’s fault, if Mr. Vega wasn’t a pedophile, I’d feel even worse. Putting Archer and his mother through this…it was just cruel. I wanted revenge, but this felt like too much.
I steeled myself to ask Vaughn come lunch.
During choir, I tried not to think about it too much, paying attention to learn the beginning notes of the new songs we had to memorize for the next concert in a month and a half. All throughout the class period, I kept checking my phone too, hoping I’d see something from Archer. Hoping I’d get a text back, maybe even a voicemail.
Nothing. Didn’t know why I expected more.
My mood was as low as it could be. When choir ended and the class packed up, I hurried away, needing answers. Needing more. I needed to know if this was my fault, if Mr. Vega was innocent—and if he wasn’t, what then? If Vaughn had simply dug up true secrets and revealed them to the world, what then?
Wouldn’t that just make it all worse?
When I made it to my locker, I shoved my shit in it and grabbed my bagged lunch, though the last thing I knew I would do was eat. I slammed it closed, about to turn and head to the cafeteria, when I realized I was cornered by three preppy bitches wearing sneers that could kill.
Brittany and her two closest friends. Needless to say, none of them looked happy.
“Well-played, bitch,” Brittany spoke, tapping her manicured nails on her arm, looking like she wanted to rip my throat out. “I don’t know how you did it, but well-fucking-played. Just know that everything that happens from here on out is because of you and your stupid mouth.” She shot me an ice-cold glare before turning on her heeled boots and walking away, sashaying her hips a bit too much.
Her friends went with her after shooting me sneers, and I stood there wondering just what the hell she’d meant by that.
An invisible weight gathered on
my shoulders, and I walked through the halls in a daze, eventually landing myself in the cafeteria, at our lunch table, where Vaughn already was, picking at his food as if he was going to eat it. I sat across from him, my knees touching his as I exhaled a great sigh.
Vaughn’s dark stare rose, landing on me. I said nothing, staring hard at my brown bag, at my hands, wondering why this place had to twist everything up.
Dante arrived shortly after, sitting beside me. “What’s up, Buttercup?” He smirked, knocking his shoulder against mine. He must’ve shaved the sides of his head last night, for his hair was shorter all around, though the top was still a longer mop of brown. “Have you heard the news? Oh, I’m sure you have. It’s been going around the school all day.” He laughed. “I admit, I thought this place would be boring, but it’s actually kind of fun.”
I said nothing, though I did meet Vaughn’s stare across the table.
“Apparently Archer’s dad got an underage girl pregnant, forced her to have an abortion,” Dante plowed on. “Must suck to be that dick, huh?” His shoulders rose and fell with laughter, as if this was a laughing matter and not life-changing.
Finally, I was able to find my voice, and I asked softly, “Was it you?”
Vaughn stared at me, his silence all I needed to hear.
“You should’ve come to me, first,” I said. “Before telling anyone. I can’t believe you’d—” Whatever else I was about to say froze in my throat when Vaughn reached over the table and grabbed one of my hands. A quick, steady gesture, one he’d never made before.
Vaughn was always cautious, and he never touched me when others could see, besides Dante. When he and I were in public, we were just friends.
But this…the way his fingers curled around mine, the way his warmth seeped into me, how could I ever deny the fact that we were so much more, even if we hadn’t taken our connection all the way?
I stared down at the knuckle blocking mine out, the one labeled hate. A part of me wanted to pull back, to pull away, but I knew I couldn’t. I needed to hear him admit it, needed to hear him say it.
This was my fault. Archer’s life was unraveling because of me. I should be happy—that’s what I wanted, after all, wasn’t it? But I wasn’t. I couldn’t be content with the way things had gone. Archer still hadn’t responded to my text, and I knew he must hate me. Brittany undoubtedly told him this was my fault.
“I’ve known the truth about Archer’s family for over a week now,” Vaughn said, his hand holding mine with a strength I could not pull away from, nor did I want to. “I…I’ll admit, I didn’t want to tell you, because I knew it’d hurt you. I knew you’d never want to use it against him.”
Yeah, I wanted to get back at Archer, but not like this. I wasn’t needlessly cruel.
“Then why would you—”
Vaughn shook his head, interrupting me, “I didn’t. I kept the information to myself. This wasn’t me, Jaz.”
I could hardly breathe. “If you didn’t do it, then who…” Who the hell did?
Dante shrugged, his blue eyes on our clasped hands. “Maybe someone else wanted to get back at the family,” he offered, looking like he wanted to tear my hand out from under Vaughn’s and snatch it for himself. When both Vaughn and I looked at him, he added, “What? It wasn’t me. I don’t give a shit about what happens to Archer fucking Vega.”
Vaughn was measured in releasing my hand, and I asked, “So it’s true, then? It’s not some lie?”
“No,” Vaughn whispered, “it’s not a lie. It’s true.”
The words hit me like a physical slap.
It was true, then. Archer’s dad really did do something illegal and totally shitty, considering he had a family and a wife. God, I wondered who the girl was, if she was another student here, or if she was from a neighboring town, or…
No, you know what? It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. The man got what he deserved, and I could only hope Ollie would not be his lawyer.
Dante tried to change the mood of the lunch table, starting to talk about the dance tomorrow. I tried to talk, tried to bury away the foul mood that had surfaced when I’d heard what had happened yesterday to Archer’s dad, but it was difficult. The only thing I wanted to do right now was see Archer, tell him that I was sorry, that I had nothing to do with it. Even though he’d fucked me over and lied to me, I wanted to hug that boy and tell him everything would be alright.
What was it they said? Time healed all wounds?
Hopefully time wouldn’t let us down now.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. Other students were either talking about the raid on the Archer residence yesterday or the winter formal tomorrow. Dresses and dates, dinners and corsages; for once, no one paid any attention to little old me.
If only it could be like that all of the time.
Yeah, you know what? I would’ve liked to move under the radar here, become a ghost to everyone and everything, just get by through my last few months of senior year and graduate. But of course, that wasn’t what happened, and now I was stuck, knee-deep, in a huge mess I had no idea how to get out of.
The end of the school day came, and I was like a zombie as I went to my locker. Not many teachers had given homework for the weekend, since the dance was tomorrow, but I did have some math problems to do tonight. Math was one of those terrible subjects where you always had homework. I hated it.
I frowned to myself as I dug my math book out and shoved it into my bag. I felt cold in my hoodie, even though it’s the same one I’d been wearing for a while. Today’s events made me feel so out of my element, so cold. Another thing I hated.
My bag still hung on the hook in the locker, and I was about to reach for it to pick it up, zip it up, and toss it over my shoulder—leave this fucking school for the day—but a hand suddenly appeared, slamming it shut in front of me and nearly catching my fingers in the crossfire of his anger.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” A rough, angry voice entered my ears, and my back automatically snapped straight.
I didn’t have to turn around to see who it was. I knew, because I’d listen to that voice more than I cared to admit, had that hand touching a hell of a lot more than it should’ve.
Archer.
The halls were busy with the end of the day traffic, but I knew we would have an audience soon enough.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I muttered, hating how much of a liar I sounded like. I bit my tongue, turning to face him, finding he stood less than six inches from me, cornering me against my own damned locker. “Whatever you think, it wasn’t me—” I froze when I noted the absolute rage on his face.
He’d never looked at me like that before, like he hated me with his entire being. Like I was the antagonizer, the perpetrator, the culprit of all that had gone wrong in his life lately. Like I was nothing more than an ugly pile of dirt he wanted to step on and forget about.
I hated the look he gave me, disliked how small and insignificant it made me feel.
His blue gaze was filled with ire, righteous fury at the girl he thought had ruined his life. “I thought you were different than everyone else,” he spat, frowning. “I thought you were better, but I guess the joke’s on me, huh? I guess you never really cared.” He pushed off my locker, causing me to flinch even though he made no moves to hurt me, and he took a step back in the hall, lifting both arms as he said, “You win. You fucking win.”
My mouth was zipped shut, but I wanted to tell him that I didn’t want to win. That this wasn’t what he thought it was, but I knew it’d be pointless. Not right now, not when all he saw was red and hate for me.
Maybe, once he calmed down, I could reason with him, convince him this wasn’t my fault, but…that was probably a pipe dream.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go see if I can be added to my dad’s accounts so I can continue to pay my family’s nurse while he’s in jail.” Those words were said to hurt me, and with everything else I’d learned, they did
hurt me more.
A family nurse? Why would his family have a nurse? There had to be more to this I wasn’t aware of, more to Archer’s family problems than just his dad stepping out on his mom with someone underaged.
Fuck. I’d really gone and fucked everything up, huh?
Chapter Twenty-Four – Archer
I couldn’t believe it. I honestly could not believe what was happening in my life, not right now. I sat in my car, having just gotten home from visiting my dad in jail. I got him to sign the bank papers, which I now had to take to the bank so I could get added on his accounts and pay the bills and do everything else to keep the house afloat and Mom with her nurse.
But I knew it wouldn’t last forever. Dad had already tried to hire Oliver Fitzpatrick, and Oliver had refused him. No, fucking Oliver Fitzpatrick was going to be the prosecutor in my dad’s case, which meant no matter how much money my dad could throw at a team of lawyers, he’d probably lose. No one beat Oliver.
My hands still gripped the steering wheel, though the car had long been turned off. The sky above was a dark grey, and it was too late to swing by the bank; I’d have to make a trip out tomorrow morning, first thing.
I didn’t want to go inside. I wanted…it didn’t really matter what I wanted anymore, because I never got it.
I’d genuinely thought Jaz was different, I’d thought she was a good person, but she was just as dirty as the rest of them, spilling my family’s secrets like she couldn’t wait to tell the world what the Vegas were hiding.
The sun would set in a few hours, and I felt defeated. So utterly defeated, depressed, and tired.
It was pure irony that I still couldn’t get away from Brittany, even after the truth came out. This was the truth that had kept me to her side, but now…if she was possibly pregnant with my child, I couldn’t just walk away and leave. Such things never turned out well. She’d go after me, find a new way to hurt me.
You’d think, after all this time, after being wound around her finger like a fucking toy, I would’ve hardened myself, created a steel cage around my heart. You’d think I wouldn’t let this hurt me…but I did. It felt like I was breathing in glass, like I could not bear to live another day like this.
Defiant: A High School Bully Romance (Midpark High Book 2) Page 28
