Sparrowood Academy

by Angel Lawson

  I don’t tell him about Trip and how he has the information I want and that there’s a price to pay for it.

  “How was it when you went home?” I ask, knowing he spent the last few days with his mom.

  “Good. Different, sort of. Some things never change, like the graffiti under the Maple Street bridge or the smell of Chinese food coming out of Peking Palace when you walk to the Park.” He glances over at me and I see a hint of wistfulness in his eyes. “But they tore down the old Woodruff factory and are building lofts and an upscale grocery store.”

  “Yuck.”

  “Yep. The development authority is proud that my mom can buy her collard greens for six times the amount she used to get them at Kelly’s.” He shakes his head and turns down a street lined with old houses. They’re in pretty good condition with well-maintained yards and tidy porches. He slows and checks the GPS before pulling the car up to a two-story, gray, Victorian- style house with a gate around the property. He rolls down the window and presses a button on the intercom.

  “We’re here to see a patient,” he says, giving his name and information.

  A moment later we’re buzzed in and a flurry of nerves rolls through me. It’s been months since I’ve seen my mother and I have no idea how she really feels about being in this place.

  “Do you think she’s mad?” I ask after he parks the car and shuts off the engine.

  He grimaces. “I wish I could say no but that’s unrealistic. There’s no way to know unless you go in and talk to her.”

  “And you think this is a good idea?”

  “I think you struggle with a lot of guilt. For your family, your sister’s disappearance, for letting down your mom. But you can only take care of one person, Eden, yourself. Your mom is an adult and has to make her own decisions about health and happiness. That’s what programs like this are about. I think you should see it first-hand.”

  I take a deep breath and get out of the car. Dorian meets me at the front of the car and gently touches my shoulder. “It’s going to be okay.”

  I’m not sure about that but I’m thankful he’s here with me. I rely on him more than I realized and it’s even more evident when we get inside and he speaks to the director, explaining our visit.

  I wander around, looking at the first floor. It’s funny, I’d been so busy surviving at school I was just happy my mom was in a safe place, but standing there, I’m overcome with emotion. The décor is warm and inviting—a little old fashioned—but homey. It’s not a cold facility like I worried about. There’s a parlor to the left and a dining room to the right. I count ten chairs and by the door is a list of names, along with assigned chores. I see my mother’s name on the list and under today’s date, it says laundry. My mother had become so dysfunctional when I left home that it had been months since she’d done any laundry or even worried about clean clothes.

  Dorian finishes talking to the director and guides me into the parlor. We sit on the curved back couch, our legs brushing. I desperately want to hold his hand, lean into him. I want to pretend it’s just for support and not because the scent of his leather jacket is about to do me in.

  “They say she’s doing really well,” he says quietly, “and that she’s happy to see you.”

  Footsteps sound on the stairs and as I’m bracing myself, Dorian reaches out and squeezes my hand.

  Over the last few months I’ve survived being arrested, nearly drowning, countless moments of sexual harassment. I’ve made deals with the devil, forged bonds with enemies, and allowed myself to show vulnerabilities to the man next to me and the other K-Boys.

  If I can do all of that, I can face my mother.

  “Well?” Dorian says once we’re back in the car.

  “That went way better than expected,” I admit, relief easing off my shoulders.

  “I thought so. She seemed really glad to see you.”

  She did. She looked good. Rested, healthy. She’d gained weight and no longer had hollow cheeks. She wasn’t mad. In fact, she pulled me into a tight hug and didn’t let go until my lungs ran out of air.

  “I’m just glad she doesn’t hate me.”

  “Eden, that woman loves you so much, it’s obvious. I think she’s been as worried about you as you were about her.”

  I lean back in the leather seat, feeling the rumble of the car beneath me. It’s soothing. Just like being around Dorian.

  Which is good. I trust him. He’s my counselor and doing his job. He’s helping me reunite with my family and assisting me through the trials at school. Everything he does is on the level. I’m the one having inappropriate fantasies about an authority figure.

  What’s my problem?

  I have enough testosterone in my life. Gray, who is wickedly funny and sexy. Theo, who is patient and sweet. Then there’s Hawk. I don’t know what the hell Hawk is to me, but there’s something building between us.

  With all that, why am I thinking about Dorian in any way other than a counselor who has taken an interest in me?

  “Want to get something to eat?” he asks, breaking me out of my thoughts. “We can grab something on the way back to Sparrowood.”

  “Yes,” I say. “I’m starving. After all the food we ate yesterday, I didn’t eat breakfast this morning.”

  “Yesterday?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

  “The guys and I had a bit of a Thanksgiving feast.”

  “That sounds fun.”

  I look out the window. It’s getting dark and the countryside runs by in a blur. “It was.”

  “I’m glad you’re getting along with them better now. They’re good guys. A little damaged, but good all the same, and they seem very protective of you.”

  “Sparrowood has a way of forging relationships,” I say. “It’s the only way to survive.”

  He glances over. “Are they being good to you?”

  I flash to Gray’s hands and mouth from the other night. Heat warms my cheeks. I reply quietly, “Yes.”

  “You’d tell me if they weren’t?”

  I look over at him, trying to figure out if I’m talking to Dorian the counselor or Dorian the K-Boy. Their authority is similar but different.

  “We don’t always see eye-to-eye but we’ve made a lot of progress, personally and as a team.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.”

  His tone is weird. Too much? Too little? I notice the tight clench in his jaw.

  Is he angry? I mean, he’s the one that encouraged us to work together. I let it drop, because he pulls into a diner, and because I don’t really want to know what caused the sudden shift. The flashing sign out front announces that they have the world’s best hamburgers and milkshakes.

  “Maybe we can get it to go,” I say, feeling the urge to get back to school. “Get some for the guys?”

  Dorian nods. “Good idea.”

  The mood lightens after a fistful of French fries and half a shake. I didn’t realize how hungry I am until my belly is full again. Dorian’s spirits rise as well, and I think that any weirdness between us was just hunger, and as we pull into the iron gates of Sparrowood, I feel strangely comforted to be back. With our hands full of food bags, Dorian stops at the front door and gives me a weird look.

  “What?” I ask, feeling self-conscious.

  “I was just thinking how in another life, you and I would have probably met in Kingston and wouldn’t have been friends.”

  “Allies, at least.”

  He smiles, because strangely enough, the only real friends from Kingston are the ones I’ve made behind these gates. I can’t tell where Dorian falls between ally, counselor, or friend, but time will tell.

  28

  Theo

  When Eden asks for a swim lesson on the Sunday before classes started back, I’m happy to meet her. We’d moved to the indoor pool a few weeks before once the temperature dropped, making the walk to and from the main building unbearable.

  It’s rare for Eden to beat me to the pool and definitely not the norm for he
r to get in before I arrive. She’s unlikely to take risks around the water—and she shouldn’t—but today I find her wading around the shallow end, hair wet and dripping down her back.

  “Hey,” I say, pulling off my shirt and dropping it on a bench. The ceiling is high, echo-y, and every splash, sound, or movement bounces along the walls. “Look at you.”

  “Right?” she says.

  I hop in, causing a small splash, and she yelps. Then she sprays water back in my direction, getting it in my face. I blink, feeling the water trickle down my face, and open one eye. “Really? Is that what you want to do?”

  “Sorry,” she says, looking contrite. Cute, but contrite, and I open my mouth to forgive her when she uses both hands to push a bigger wave of water in my direction.

  “You asked for it,” I say, feeling a surge of adrenaline. She squeals, swim-running toward the wall. There’s no chance she’ll get there—not with my height, my size and length of my arms. I grab her by the waist and drag her back against my body, wrapping my arms around her.

  “No!” she shouts, her voice loud as a cannon in the empty pool. “Stop!”

  “Too late, Princess, you started it.”

  I take care not to scare her too much, I know she still has fears, but seriously? She came at me first. I can’t let that go so I lift her in the air, water pouring down my arms and toss her a few feet away. She screams, arms flailing, and lands with a splash. It takes her a few moments to find her bearings and I start second guessing. What did I do?

  “Eden?”

  I swim over just as she pops up, eyes blinking. I can’t tell if she’s upset or freaked out and I reach for her. She pushes her hair off her face and lunges at me. I grab her squirming body that feels so, so good pressed against mine and we wrestle in the water. Eden shows me a silly, fun, lighthearted side of herself that is contagious, and we fight in the water until I’ve got her cornered by the stairs, panting and out of breath.

  “You ready to give up?” I ask, leaning over her.

  “Never.”

  Her chest rises and falls from the exertion and her nipples are visible through the thin lining of her suit. I do everything I can not to let on how aroused I am by her every time we swim together, but all the touching and playing and physical contact today has been too much. My skin is hot despite the cool water and my heart pounds just by being near her.

  I can’t help but smile at her determination. “What got into you today?”

  She settles back on the step. “I don’t know. I think I just had a really good Thanksgiving. Dinner with you guys, seeing my mom, getting away from the batshit craziness of the kids that go here.” She moves her legs, swishing the water. “I guess I just feel a little lighter.”

  “Lighter is a good look on you.”

  She grins. “Yeah?”

  “Definitely.”

  Energy ebbs between us and I move to sit next to her on the step, squeezing in the small space. She lifts her fingers and holds them over my shoulder, letting water dribble off the tips. “How are you feeling? You said the other night some days are still a challenge.”

  “This weekend was good. No temptations, no parties or kids roaming around offering shit. It’s like, all the time, you know? But it would be like that back home, too, but maybe worse. At least here I have the expectation of showing up to class and having the guys so close. The last thing I want is to have Hawk come after me for using again. His patience for drug use is slim.”

  “Good.”

  Something tickles at my chest. A confession. “You know, you help me, too.”

  “I do?”

  “Yeah,” I say, looking across the long, Olympic-sized pool. “I’m afraid of Hawk, but you’re the thing getting me up in the morning. The one making me keep it together.”

  “Me?”

  “After you saved me in the shower that night, I just don’t want to disappoint you, again,” I admit, looking over to see how she handles that information. She’s looking at me in awe, eyes wide. “You make me want to be better. Healthier.”

  “You’d never disappoint me, Theo. You’re strong. Caring. Sweet.”

  “You forgot handsome,” I laugh.

  She reaches out and touches my cheek, my forehead and hair. I still, terrified to move. Terrified she’ll come to her senses and walk away. I know she’s close to Gray. I can sense in the way they sit together and the way they touch, and I know something burns between her and Hawk. The tension is palpable. Eden and I have always worked differently.

  Tit for tat.

  Inch by inch.

  “You’re very handsome.”

  I lean into her touch. “And you’re breathtakingly beautiful.”

  Our faces are close, and she leans into me as well, our cheeks and noses grazing.

  “This thing between us all, it’s a lot,” she says quietly.

  “Too much?”

  She shakes her head. “No, that’s what’s so weird about it. It’s not too much and it should be.”

  I feel the heat of her breath and my heart hammers in my chest.

  “Can I kiss you?” she asks.

  I nod, and she brushes her lips against mine. Once. Then again.

  I fight every urge to consume her, dive into her like a hit of my favorite drug. I pull back and swallow.

  “What’s wrong?” she asks, forehead creasing.

  “I can only handle fighting one addiction at a time, and I have a feeling you’re just as dangerous as any narcotic.”

  She nods, hurt flickering in her eyes. “Sure, okay.”

  “I just need to focus on staying the course, but understand, it’s not you. You, I want. Bad. But I want to be the best for you and I’m not there. Not yet.”

  “You’ve been patient with me,” she says, “and I can be patient with you.”

  She rests her head on my shoulder and I wrap my arm around her, content just to have her near.

  Tit for tat.

  29

  Eden

  The peace and quiet of Thanksgiving break ends with a flurry of returning students, teachers, and staff. Rochelle and the other girls return with shopping bags full of new clothing. I’m surprised when she walks into my room and holds out a large bag and says, “I picked you up a few things.”

  I frown. “Why would you do that?”

  “Because I love to spend my father’s money and you really need a better wardrobe.”

  That’s the truth.

  “I can’t accept this.”

  “Of course, you can. I had to sit at the table with Luke all weekend and listen to him bitch about getting kicked out here and forced into military academy, and then whine about how Camille’s in Switzerland at some all-girls' boarding school. Spending that money was cathartic.” She shoves the bag at me and walks back to her room.

  I pick up the bag and look inside. It’s filled with basics jeans, leggings, a few shirts. There’s a pile of new bras and panties at the bottom. After looking at one price tag, I avoid the rest. The amount Rochelle spends on one item of clothing is equal to our gas bill back home.

  I walk back into the common area and see her plugging in a new iPhone. She looks up and says, “The Black Friday sales were epic.”

  “So about Luke…”

  “What about him?”

  “Did he, like, try anything?” My fear is that he’d retaliate on Rochelle for me getting him kicked out of Sparrowood.

  She smirks. “After dinner when everyone went to the entertainment room to watch the football game, he tried to corner me. Told me I owed him a blow job for all the stress and strain he’d been put through.” She rolls her eyes. “His school is all boys and super strict. They buzzed his hair.”

  I swallow back the lump in my throat and force myself to ask, “Did you do it?”

  She sighs and brushes her bangs out of her eyes. The blue is gone, replaced with her natural black. Her eyes are bright—a little clearer than I’ve seen them. “I laughed at him and told him to fuck off, and he tri
ed to blackmail me, again.” My stomach twists uneasily. “And when I said I didn’t care, he tried to force me.”

  “Oh, Ro.”

  Her lips curve upward. “I used that move on him, the one Mr. Miller taught us, where you step on their toe and elbow them at the same time?”

  I gasp. “You didn’t.”

  “I did. Then I kneed him in the balls and got the hell out of there.”

  I blink at her for a minute. Then stand, walking over and pulling her into a hug. “You. Are. My. Hero.”

  She laughs and sniffs, then pulls back to wipe the tears from her eyes. “It was so scary, but that class, it’s really taught me a lot and I’m sick of being used by these guys.”

  I nod and hug her again. “I’m really proud of you.”

  She steps back and I notice she’s not smiling. “He may retaliate.”

  “He may, but we’ll be ready for him.”

  “Oh,” she says, “how was your turkey?”

  “Turkey?”

  “Hawk messaged me and asked if there was a way to get some delivered up here. I had our caterer deliver some of our leftovers. He said you guys were having a little dinner or something.”

  Sneaky bastard.

  “It was delicious and we had a good time.” For some reason, my body betrays me and my cheeks heat at the memory of my time with Gray and the other guys.

  She tilts her head and narrows her eyes. “Did something happen with you and the boys?”

  “It was a strange, different holiday for all of us, but we came together to celebrate, and it was nice. I admit, the more I get to know them, the easier it is for me to forget why I hated them before.”