Love Struck: (Maddison High School Book 2 - Bully Romance)

by Nikki Ashton

  Why would I want him back? Because I was catching feelings for him, despite who his dad was, that was why.

  “We had fun and he was nice to me,” I replied, glancing at the young girl and her mum crossing in front of us. “Believe it or not.”

  “I admit, he was different with you than anyone else.” Alannah put her foot back on the accelerator and continued towards my house. “It takes a lot to change someone from what Adam was like though.”

  “Yeah I suppose.”

  Alannah was right it did, but I knew Adam was almost there and I was hurt that I hadn’t been enough for him to want to change completely.

  When we finally pulled up outside my house, after a little detour, for Alannah to call and get her dad a birthday card—apparently she was thawing to him after his brief affair—I was concentrating on a text I’d had from Mum to say she was running late so would call and get something for dinner.

  “Looks like you’ve got a visitor.” Alannah nudged my arm.

  My breath caught in my throat, as I looked up to see Adam, looking agitated as he raked his hands through his dark blond hair.

  “What’s he doing here?”

  “Maybe I was wrong,” Alannah replied. “Maybe Mackenna’s hair has made him realise he’ll never get anyone as good as you.”

  Blowing out a breath, I shook my head and put my hand on the door handle. “I doubt it. Like you said, he’s evidently not changed that much.”

  Alannah gave my forearm a squeeze. “Don’t make it easy for him, if that’s what he wants.”

  With a small smile I nodded my head and got out of the car, hoping that my heartrate slowed down in the few steps it took to reach him. I didn’t want him to know that I was hopeful nor how much he affected me just by leaning against the wall to my house.

  “Hey,” I said, reaching into the side pocket of my backpack for my keys. “What are you doing here?”

  Adam shifted his feet and looked over my shoulder to where Alannah was slowly moving away from the curb, her eyes firmly on us both.

  “She should watch the road, not us,” he ground out.

  “Yeah well, she’s a bit protective of me.” I pushed my key in the lock and turned to Adam. “Do you want to come in?”

  I inhaled as quietly as I could, trying to steady the adrenalin rushing around my body and the feeling of hope that had lifted my heart.

  “No… yeah… fuck I don’t know.”

  Pushing the door open, I took another breath to calm myself. Should I just shut the door on him? He evidently had no clue why he’d come to see me, which meant it definitely wasn’t to get back together. Alannah was right though; did I want to be with him while his dad was around?

  “Listen, Adam.” I sighed wearily. “If you’ve come here to tell me that you’re with Mackenna again, then don’t worry about it. It was pretty obvious when she was sucking your face in the dining room at lunchtime yesterday. Seeing you do that kind of reminded me why we probably shouldn’t have got together in the first place.”

  Adam’s breath hitched and his gaze became wide-eyed and a little desolate.

  “Don’t fucking say that,” he ground out, with a slow shake of his head. “We were fucking good together.”

  “Yeah, Adam, for all of five minutes.”

  Sucking back the tears that were threatening to fall, I swallowed back the words I really wanted to say and replaced them with those that would protect me.

  “We were never going to work anyway. It would have ended up being too painful. All I ask is that we try and stay friends and you don’t rub my nose in it when you’re with other girls.”

  While Adam stared at me silently, my hand went to my wrist and rubbed slow circles around the bumpy skin. My fingertips soothed and cooled both the skin and my pain. This wasn’t what I wanted, or what I’d expected when I saw him waiting for me.

  “I just don’t know what to do, Sarah.”

  Bright blue eyes considered me carefully, so beautiful and clear that they made me want to groan through the wrenching pain they created in my heart.

  “I’m trying to do the right thing, but it’s fucking gutting me. Not being with you is so hard. Not being able to touch you every day. It’s not like anything I’ve ever felt before; it physically hurts, Sarah.”

  Dropping my bag to the floor, my body sagged. The emotion I’d been trying to hold back sprung forward as Adam closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath.

  “I just don’t know what to do.” He reached out his hand and lightly ran his fingers down my arm. “I miss you so fucking much, but…”

  “But what Adam?” Swallowing, I looked him directly in the eye. “Tell me.”

  He trapped his bottom lip between his teeth and exhaled slowly, as soft eyes studied me. Finally, he shook his head and closed off his beautiful pools of blue.

  “But I don’t want to believe my dad could do that to you.”

  A coldness swept across my body, creeping into my bones and seeping through to the blood pumping through my veins as his words sank in.

  “You don’t want to believe, or you don’t believe?” I asked, my voice quiet and hesitant.

  His silence that lasted for far too long, told me everything.

  “I think you should go,” I said clearing my throat. “I don’t even think we can be friends.”

  “Sarah, no,” he cried, reaching for me. “No please I can’t be without you in any—”

  “No,” I spat back, straightening my spine. “I can’t, Adam. If you don’t believe me, I can’t.”

  “Sarah—”

  “Please just go.” Tears trailed down my cheeks, my sorrow at losing him, losing his trust and belief, punched into my stomach.

  Adam drew in a shaky breath and took a step back, his eyes constantly on me. He looked full of despair and pain, but he wasn’t my problem to fix any longer; and I wasn’t his.

  “I’m so sorry.” His chest heaved and he raised a shaky hand to cup my chin, I smacked it away adding more pain to his eyes.

  When I pulled back, I heard him inhale sharply before walking backwards down the driveway, back to his car. He never once took his eyes from me until he was in his car and driving away.

  Some sort of dam was holding back my sobs, my cries of sorrow and my desire to shout for him to come back. It was a barrier that I knew would fall down eventually and when it did, I knew it was going to be agonising.

  As I watched Adam’s car disappear around the corner, I pulled back from the doorway and was about to close it on the darkening sky when something, or someone caught my eye across the road. There was someone sitting in a car watching me, I was sure of it. I couldn’t see them properly as they were hidden in a baseball cap with a scarf around their mouth, but their stare was definitely in my direction. They didn’t even turn away to hide the fact that they’d been caught. With clammy hands I slipped my phone from my pocket and glanced at it. I wondered whether to call Adam and ask him to come back. My mum would be on her way home soon, but he was only a couple of minutes away. Without thinking anymore of it, I pressed the screen, but as I scrolled through to his number, the car with the stranger started up and sped away.

  I stepped out of the door and watched as it raced up the street, realising I should have got the registration number but didn’t. As it screeched around the corner, I felt the unease continue to creep up my spine, wondering, but thinking I knew, who it was who was watching me.

  15

  Adam

  When I drove away from Sarah, my chest felt like it was in a vice. I was being crushed from the inside and every inch of my skin felt hot and raw, like I needed to rip it off.

  My dirty skin that defined who I was, that held DNA which tainted me.

  When I got to the crossroads to turn for home, I turned the wheel at the last minute and did a wide turn in the opposite direction. I knew I shouldn’t, that it was the wrong thing to do, but I had to speak to my dad. The weirdest sensation had come over me that I needed to talk to him
, to someone who knew Sarah.

  I couldn’t explain it, but my stomach churned with a mixture of excitement and fear. Thirteen years of missing him didn’t just go away, despite the evil things he might have done. It should. I should have been disgusted by him, but for as much as the sight of him made me want to scream and punch him, it also soothed my soul. Seeing him I felt safe after all the years of anger and pain.

  Words and thoughts jumbled and span in my head, I swerved into the car park of the gym, needing some time to think. I needed to process how I was feeling and, if I was being honest, come up with a reason to justify those feelings. Groaning I rested my head against the steering wheel.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

  I banged my head with each curse, the desire to punch something overwhelming—maybe I was growing up though, because I knew it wouldn’t help. The only thing that would was the nagging voice telling me that talking to my dad would.

  Sighing I lifted my head and started the ignition, before speeding off to his apartment.

  When I got there, I tentatively knocked on the door after having taken about five minutes to pluck up the courage. I heard footsteps on the other side and eventually the lock clicked and there was my dad standing in front of me. His cheek was still bruised but no longer swollen, and there was a yellowish tinge around his eye. He looked like he was about to go out as he had on a jacket and trainers.

  “Sorry, is it a bad time?”

  “No.” He didn’t look surprised to see me and there was a definite smirk at his lips.

  Instantly I wished I’d not listened to that fucking stupid voice in my head and not gone to visit him.

  “You don’t seem surprised to see me.”

  He shrugged. “You’re my son, I knew you’d be curious. Plus, no matter what you think you know about me, you’ve missed me. Like I’ve missed you.”

  I let my head drop backwards and exhaled, blowing away all my misgivings and worry, if only for a short time.

  “Can I come in?” I finally asked, lowering my gaze back to him.

  He didn’t answer but stood to one side and patted my back as I walked through to what I remembered was the lounge. There were some shopping bags on the sofa, all from the shopping centre – the sight of which made me to think of Sarah finding my little sister. My heart clenched and my stomach rolled as the image of her once more invaded my thoughts.

  “You been shopping?” The question was completely fucking pointless, of course he had.

  “Yeah,” Dad replied and picked up the bags, almost dropping a Foot Locker one. “I needed a few things. Oh, and I got you something.”

  “Me?”

  He nodded and passed me a bag that I recognised was from the Manchester United shop. My heart sank – I had never supported United. I’d always been a City fan.

  “It should fit.”

  I pulled out the top to see it had Hudson on the back and a number 3. I held it up in front of me and could see at a glance it was too big. That fact and that it had the wrong number and was the wrong fucking colour only drove home how little he actually knew about me.

  “Oh shit,” Dad groaned out loud. “It’s too big isn’t it?”

  I was quite muscular for my age, but I was toned and only just eighteen, and was obviously not large like the size of the shirt.

  “Yeah I think so. Thanks though, maybe I’ll grow into it.”

  And maybe I’ll use it to clean my car I thought as I smiled at him, even though it hurt my cheeks to do it.

  Dad shook his head and held his hand out. “No, give it to me and I’ll sort it out. I’ll get you a smaller one.”

  “Honestly, it’s fine.” I had no idea why I was arguing with him, there was no way I would put a red shirt on my back.

  Before I had a chance to think any more about it, the shirt and the bag were ripped from my hands.

  “Honestly, Adam, I’ll sort it.”

  He shoved the shirt back into the carrier and threw it and all the others behind the armchair.

  “You want a drink?” he asked, turning to me.

  I hesitated, not knowing what to answer. I didn’t even know if I wanted to be there.

  He must have recognised my hesitation because he flopped down onto an armchair. “I’ll put the kettle on in a minute. Tell me how you’ve been.”

  “Pretty shit,” I replied.

  Dad nodded slowly but remained silent as I watched him, trying to pick out something in his features that mirrored mine, but apart from the colour of our hair, I was all my mum.

  As I watched him carefully, sitting relaxed in his smart dark blue jeans and pale green jumper, I realised we didn’t even have the same mannerisms. Where Dad’s fingers were steepled under his chin, mine were entwined, my thumbs flicking against each other. His legs were casually crossed at the ankles, while mine bobbed up and down nervously. I’d bet everything I owned that he was a fucking United fan too.

  As the moments of silence got longer and longer, the more the pressure inside of me grew and the more I needed to talk about Sarah, which in itself was totally fucked up.

  I wanted to talk about my ex-girlfriend to my dad, the man who’d stolen so much from her.

  “Something has upset you. What is it?” Dad finally asked, his question surprising me, seeing as it was fucking obvious.

  “Well, we’re not exactly in an ideal situation, are we?”

  “I suppose not,” he mused, rubbing at the stubble on his chin. “Is she giving you trouble about me being here? What’s she said?”

  I hesitated to reply, guilt momentarily supplanting the need I had to talk to him about Sarah.

  “She hasn’t said much,” I half lied. “I ended it.”

  “Why?”

  My eyes widened as I reared back in the armchair. “Why do you think?”

  “You’re jealous that I’ve been in a relationship with her?” he said. He rubbed a hand down his neatly trimmed stubble as his eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

  “A relationship?” I pushed the word through the dryness clogging my throat.

  “Yes, Adam,” he said, causing me to swallow hard. “Because that’s what it was.”

  He gave me a no-nonsense stare. A glare which if he’d been my dad for the last thirteen years may well have scared me.

  “Is that why you ended it with her? I know she’s been spouting these hideous lies about me, but it must be hard for you knowing I was the one she cared about first.”

  The need to vomit would be imminent if he didn’t shut the fuck up. My stomach swirled around like an empty tumble dryer and a sickly feeling travelled upwards towards my throat.

  “This was a bad idea,” I muttered.

  “I’m sorry, Adam. I shouldn’t have said anything, ignore me and let’s change the subject. Tell me about school.”

  I should have got up and walked out, but I didn’t. Instead, I tried to forget why nausea was rolling around my guts and stayed to talk. The next two hours were difficult for me, listening while he talked and drank a bottle of some poncey Italian lager. During that time I learned about the fact that he loved drawing with charcoals. He told me all about his life in Kent, carefully omitting anything about Sarah. And, just like I’d suspected, he told me he was a United fan. He shared a lot, until he finally looked at his watch.

  “Listen, I’m sorry, Adam, I have somewhere I have to be.”

  “Oh right. Sorry I didn’t mean to stay so long.”

  “It’s fine, it’s just something I can’t get out of.”

  “Do you need a lift?” I offered.

  Dad shook his head. “I can walk. It’s not far. I should really think about getting a car soon.”

  “Okay, if you’re sure I’ll go.” Standing, I felt a little relieved he didn’t want a lift, because while listening to him had been great, I realised I was ready to be away from his company. I was starting to feel claustrophobic after all of those years apart.

  “It was good to catch up.” He looked up and smiled before gettin
g to his feet. “Come back any time.”

  He moved to the door, so I followed behind, but hesitated when I reached him. I wasn’t sure what to do, hug him, shake his hand or do one of those shitty chin dips that men who had no conversation did? Dad took the decision from me by slapping a hand against my back and manoeuvring me into the hallway where he reached around me to open the door.

  “Call me soon,” he said as I walked over the threshold. “We can arrange to do something.’

  “Yeah, okay.”

  Part of me was ecstatic that he wanted to spend time with me, but another part felt like shit that in some way I was betraying Sarah.

  Dad waved me off, but when I turned around at the top of the stairs, he’d already gone inside and closed the door.

  For a while I sat in my car the engine ticking over and thought about what he’d suggested. I realised I did actually want to see him again; we just needed to take things slowly. With my anxiety slightly abated and the five-year-old in me feeling excited, I drove away thinking, as always about Sarah. She was constantly in my head and tonight was no exception. Just because I wasn’t with her any longer didn’t mean I didn’t care. I still wanted her to be happy and safe, so as I did most nights, I headed back in the direction of her house, just to check on her, because I never settled until I knew she was safe inside.

  16

  Sarah

  To say I hated being in the sickly warm hall, talking to a bunch of strangers was an understatement. There had to be some way I could escape and leave the group therapy session behind.

  “Are you hating this too?” a voice whispered in my ear.

  I turned quickly and almost smashed my nose against the face next to mine.

  “Oh God, sorry.”

  “No problem.” The dark-haired boy laughed quietly. “I shouldn’t have been so close. “I’m Jack by the way.”