by Hart, Rebel
“Oh. Yeah. Right. Because that makes it all better.”
I scoffed and shook my head. I leaned back against the park bench, wishing and praying and hoping he’d go away. I just wanted some peace. Some quiet. Some fucking clarity. I didn’t want to deal with his bullshit.
I didn’t want to deal with Clint.
“So what are you doing out on a night like this?”
I closed my eyes. “You aren’t going to leave me alone, are you?”
He scoffed. “I mean, I figured you’d be with goody two shoes Allison or some shit like that.”
“I was, until our plans got canceled.”
“Ah, she busy kissing Michael’s booboos?”
I bit down on the inside of my cheek. “If you don't leave, I’m leaving.”
“Have a safe trip home.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, irate at his ability to completely spoil whatever moment of happiness I found for myself. But I wasn’t leaving. I had been here first, and he was the one that wasn’t wanted in this scenario. If he wanted to be rid of me, then he could leave the same way he came. And if he didn’t want to leave, then I’d annoy the hell out of him until he did.
Clint chuckled. “Stubborn, I see.”
I shrugged. “You’re the one making this more difficult than it needs to be.”
“Not really. You don’t want to be around me, then leave.”
“I’m not the one who obliterated the moment with my presence in the first place.”
“Big word for a small girl.”
“Well, if you paid attention in English class at all, you might have a few to throw around yourself.”
“Kind of a non-sequitur, if you think about it.”
I furrowed my brow. “What?”
“A non-sequitur. A phrase that doesn’t—”
I held up my hand. “I know what a non-sequitur is, you dick. I’m just not sure how—”
I looked over at him and found him smiling at me. And not the kind of smile I was used to seeing on his face. It wasn’t malicious. It didn’t shiver me to my core. It was… just a smile. A genuine, eye-reaching, illuminating smile. I’d never seen Clint smile like that before. Hell, I’d never seen him smile at all. But something like this?
It made him look almost boyish.
“Shocked I know the term? Or shocked that I used it correctly?”
I drew in a sharp breath. “What I said was only partially—I mean, if you twist it—I—you know what that word means?”
He chuckled. “English is my strong suit. That’s why I don’t pay attention in class.”
“Didn’t you almost fail, though?”
He shrugged. “C-minus. Not bad for never turning in homework.”
“That means you would’ve had to ace all your tests, though. Read the material?”
“What? You think I can’t read?”
“Not that you can’t. Just that you don’t.”
He grinned. “Maybe I have a few tricks up my sleeve every now and again.”
I quickly turned away from him and tightened my arms across my chest. I wasn’t going to let him disarm me. I wasn’t going to let him in. I wasn’t going to let him closer, or talk to him about anything, or even tell him why the hell I was out here. I wasn’t going to indulge my personal life with the school bully. No matter how he tried to woo me into it.
But, I had to admit, he’d officially shocked me.
He snickered. “Still not gonna talk?”
I shook my head. “Nope.”
“Even though you now know I’m not just a bully?”
“No one is ever ‘just’ anything. Being a bully is your dominating trait. So it is what it is.”
“But, if it wasn’t, you’d talk to me. Wouldn't you?”
“Doesn’t matter now, does it?”
He chuckled. “Answering a question with a question is never a good thing, Cleaver.”
And even though I tried keeping my guard up, I felt it slowly slipping down with him.
Something I didn’t even think to be possible.
14
Clinton
I mean, I got it. I understood why Rae didn’t want to talk with me. I just found it crazy that we both ended up here at the same time. I mean, fuck. She was sitting on my bench! A bench I’d practically claimed back in eighth grade. I came to this damn park whenever I needed to clear my head. Whenever I needed to fuck some shit up without getting into trouble with the town of Riverbend. Most of the cracks in these slides were from me. The broken, rusted-through metal monkey bars had been broken through in the first place because of me terrorizing this damn place. I mean, parents and families alike had abandoned it years and years ago. The second the sandbox became infested and sent kids to the hospital, they shunned this place. Making it the perfect park for angsty teenagers and homeless people alike to find whatever fucking piece of solace they could in this decrepit park. And with Rae sitting on my damn bench?
I didn’t believe in coincidences that much.
Especially since you can’t stop thinking about the girl, asshole.
I licked my lips. “I come here sometimes, too.”
I heard Rae snicker to herself, but she didn’t say anything.
“It’s true. I’ve come here regularly ever since eighth grade. I sit on this exact bench, right where you’re sitting, and I stare between those two dying trees.”
I pointed off into the distance as she drew in a deep breath.
“It’s not going to work. I know you’re making this shit up.”
I shrugged. “Think what you want, but it’s true. I come here at night, sit where you are so I can look between those trees, and I get the perfect view of the north star.”
I looked over at her, watching as her eyes lifted. I saw her gazing through the trees before they widened a bit. She looked over at me, shock pouring over her features. Then she went back to staring at the ground. She scooted over a bit, closer to the edge of the bench. Away from me, like I was the plague. Like I was some sort of virus. Like I was a piece of trash she wanted nothing to do with.
And I don’t know what the fuck spurred my mouth to start running. But once it started, I couldn't stop it.
“I came here the first time my father ever hit me. I had a teacher threatening to hold me back in eighth grade because I never turned in my homework, of all things. And the fight that ensued with my father was rough. It was the first time I’d ever yelled at him. The first time I’d ever stood up to him. And when he saw I wasn’t backing down, he hit me. He hit me so hard it threw me clean across the damn room. I ran out of the house, got on my pedal bike, and didn’t stop until I collapsed with exhaustion in this park. Slept on this bench until morning, before Roy’s parents found me laying out on this thing.”
I felt Rae’s eyes slowly panning over to me as I sighed heavily.
“At school, it’s easy to forget about all that shit. It’s easy to forget about home. About my mother. About my father and how aggressive he is. I get to be a different version of me there. A stronger version of me.”
Rae scoffed. “You think you’re stronger because people are afraid of you?”
I shrugged. “I guess.”
She paused. “You know, that’s actually pretty typical. Guys like you don’t have power at home, so you take it out on others in a place where you feel powerful.”
“I take it you have a point here?”
“I do. It means your sob story isn’t so special. Or sob-worthy.”
The laughter that bubbled up my throat spewed out of my mouth before I could catch it. I tucked my arms over my chest, letting my head fall back. My eyes closed as laughter took over me. My shoulders shook and my stomach jumped, and for the first time in a long time I felt free of the chains of my home. Without having to be at school.
Which was a miracle in and of itself.
“What's wrong with you, Clint?”
I sighed, trying to rein in my laughter. “Oh, ho ho. Holy fuck. So much, Rae. So much is wrong with me
. But let’s be real for a second. You're just as screwed up as I am, at the end of the day.”
She didn’t answer, and that caused me to look over at her. I saw her curl even more into herself, and something inside me wanted to reach out to her. Physically. I forced it back, though. I tucked my arms tighter underneath my arm pits, trying my best to make her feel comfortable.
Because I wanted her to be comfortable around me, for some reason.
I sighed. “Look, I get it. You don’t have a good home life. You look at all those big houses we have and the fancy clothes Michael and Allison wear, and you think it’s a better life. But it isn’t. We all have our issues. My dad slaps me around more than I care to admit. I’m sure your mom has some equally fucked-up shit she does to you.”
Rae spat. “Which is none of your business.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But it does you no good not to talk about it.”
“Oh, like you talk about it with everyone?”
“I just did, didn’t I?”
And then, as if the heavens decided to actually play in my favor, Rae sighed.
“Mom’s got this boyfriend. D.J. And he’s such a shitbag of a guy, you know? I mean, I know it broke my mother down when my dad left. I was only three, so I don’t remember shit about him or anything. But, she just filtered through so many stupid men before landing on, what? D.J.? Some dude that pays some of her bills sometimes and slaps her around a bit? Fucking hell, I can’t stand it when they start arguing. One minute, he’s bringing over Italian dinner for a nice meal, bringing her flowers. Bringing me gifts. And the next minute? Mom’s got a black eye and she’s out drinking at bars all weekend before dragging nameless men home to try and make herself feel less alone. I don’t get it. Why can’t she just… survive without them? Why can’t she just put in the effort to thrive? Why does some guy have to be the miraculous answer to all her problems? It’s exhausting after a while. Trying to keep up and deal with it all in the background.” Then, after a pause, “But not as exhausting as being around you. You really do me in. I’d take D.J. over you any day.”
I chuckled and shook my head. Ever the strong one. Trying to keep up that icy demeanor when all she wanted to do was drop her guard. Nevertheless, the need to reach out and hug her was so great I felt myself shaking. I wanted to punch whoever this D.J. guy was until his eyes fucking bulged. How dare he treat a woman like that? How dare he think he could put his hands on a woman and get away with it? I watched Rae’s cheeks blush deeply. Even in the darkness, I saw her skin redden. And as she flickered her eyes toward mine, she scoffed.
“What?” I asked.
She shook her head. “I can’t believe I just told you all that.”
“Why?”
“You mean, other than the fact that you’re the biggest asshole at our school?”
I sighed. “Don’t be like that, Rae.”
“Be like what?”
“So moody.”
She leered. “I’m not moody.”
“So that bubbling rage in your eye is a reaction to something else? Maybe the pollen? Possibly the fleas infesting the sandbox over there? Did you get bit by a raccoon? I hear the Riverbend raccoons have rabies.”
She scoffed and shook her head. But soon, that scoff turned to a giggle. Which morphed into laughter that tilted her head off to the side. The beautiful sound wrapped around us, and I couldn't help but smile. Her arms fell away from her chest and she placed her face in her hands, shaking her head as more laughter fell from her lips.
“What is even happening, Clint?”
I smiled. “You’re growing weak for me. Just like all girls do.”
Her laughter paused. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“If I'm not going to be moody, then you’re not going to be a pompous windbag manwhore.”
My eyebrows rose. “How long have you had that one tucked away?”
“Not as long as you’d think. I’m quick-witted in some moments.”
“I see that.”
She looked over at me and her eyes fell to my lips. My smile made her smile, and for the first time I saw her eyes ignite. With the moon above reflecting in her amber pools, it reminded me of the strength of a tree. The rungs of a redwood covered in sappy bark, cloaked in the effervescent darkness California had to offer. I found myself swimming in them. Falling into them and never wanting to return.
The writer in me wanted to pen a poem devoted to the swirling rungs of her brown eyes.
Rae cleared her throat. “What are you looking at?”
I cocked my head. “You.”
“What about me?”
“I like this side of you.”
She blushed. “Oh, come on. Cut the shit and get to the punch line.”
“What punch line?”
“Whatever it is that made you come over and sit down on this bench.”
“Is it really so hard to imagine that you’re the reason I felt compelled to sit down?”
She snickered. “Felt compelled? Who are you again?”
I turned my body toward her. “I’m the Clint you’ve always seen.”
“I’ve never seen this side of you.”
“Do you want to see more?”
My hand gravitated to her cheek and I cupped her soft skin. My thumb brushed against it as her eyes searched mine. Wild, and curious, and a bit mysterious. And as a grin settled across my face, she smiled up at me. I felt her nod against my hand before she nuzzled my palm. I felt myself being pulled into her atmospheric orbit. Stanzas of poems not yet penned regarding her beauty rushed through my mind. I felt her face getting closer as her body heat encompassed me. And when our lips touched, fireworks went off in my mind.
This was the kind of girl wars were started over.
My elbows tingled. My toes curled. I felt electricity sizzle down my spine. Her tongue pressed against my lips and I was all too eager to let her inside. All too eager to wrap her up in my arms. I pulled her close, heaving her into my lap, and she straddled me with effortless perfection. An entire epic poem spilled forth in my mind, encompassing the whole of Rae. From the soft touch of her fingertips against my jaw to the searing heat of her lips against my own.
Even the way her body fell against me constituted its own story of praise.
I pulled back softly. “Ever been on a bike?”
Rae shook her head. “No. I haven’t.”
“Want to ride on one?”
When she didn’t answer me, I stood up. I picked her up in my arms with ease as she squealed and clung to me. I set her down on her feet, taking her hand and tugging her toward my motorcycle. She resisted at first. But then she gave way to me. Gave way to my silent command as we headed for our escape.
“Come on. I’ll take you for a ride,” I said.
And without a second thought, I handed off my helmet to her.
15
Raelynn
Clinging to Clint around his waist as we zoomed through the streets of our hometown wasn’t something I ever thought I’d be doing. And yet, I found myself holding tighter to him with every passing mile. He took the long way around town, pointing out toward the ocean and slowing down so I could gawk at it. We stopped at a bakery that was in its closing hour and he picked us up some pastries at half price. We even stopped to get me one last green tea, while he chugged back a black coffee.
It was a side of him I would have never imagined existed in my wildest dreams.
I stopped questioning where we were going after a while. But once we pulled into the driveway of his home, I grew nervous. What the hell were we doing back here? I figured he’d take me home. Or back to the park. Or drop me off at the high school.
“Uh, Clint?”
He turned off his bike. “What?”
I slipped the helmet off. “What are we doing at your house?”
He put his kickstand down. “Well, you said you didn’t wanna go home. But everything else around here’s closed. We got these pastries. Figured you’d wan
na go somewhere, drink something, and eat.”
“So we’re at your house? Where your father is right now?”
“Nah. Dad goes to the casino to blow off steam after we fight. He won’t be back until tomorrow night at the earliest.”
“And your stepmom?”
He scoffed. “She’s always at his side. If he’s not here, she’s not either.”
He helped me off the bike, catching me as I stumbled. I felt myself blushing underneath the strength of his arms, but I tried not to show it. I tried not to give in to it. This was madness. This was Clint Clarke, for fuck’s sake. The boy that had swung on Michael this morning! There was no way the butterflies in my gut were for him. There was no way on God’s green earth I felt the way I did because of him.
And yet, when he took my hand to lead me inside, I felt my stomach jump.
Turn around. Go home while you still can.
I watched Clint type in a password on a keypad that opened the garage. And with the bag of pastries in one hand, he led me straight through a door and into his kitchen. I gawked as I walked inside, too. His kitchen alone was bigger than Allison’s entire fucking living room. Holy shit, if I thought Allison’s and Michael’s parents had massive homes, then I’d really been an ignorant little girl.
Because Clint’s father didn’t own a home.
He owned a damn mansion.
“You want the cinnamon or cheese danish?” Clint’s voice pierced my shock.
“Um, cheese.”
He nodded. “Cinnamon for me, then. Which is great, because I’m a cinnamon fanatic.”
“Good to know.”
“What do you want to drink?”
I didn’t hear his question. I kept scanning the room with my eyes, wondering how big this place was.
“Rae.”
I heard the chuckle in his voice and my eyes whipped over to his.
“What’s up?”
He grinned. “Wanna see the rest of the house?”
I nodded with delight and he dropped the pastries. He scooped my hand into his, and together we started through the house. He showed me the living room, with a massive projection screen on an entire wall. He showed me something called a sitting room, which was literally just a room with a bar and some chairs. He took me into a library. A legitimate library with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that lined every square inch of wall in the damn place.
