Collateral Damage

by Katie Klein

  I run my hands over my face, uneasiness clawing at my gut. "Jade...I'm not...."

  Who you think I am.

  I don't know how this happened. How it came to this—me risking my job, risking everything to be with this girl. "I can't." I reach for my shirt, desperate to find my footing, to put it back on. To get the hell away from her. "It's nothing," I promise. "Don't worry about it."

  "You have to tell me what happened," she begs, standing.

  I snatch my jacket off the floor, shove my arms back into the sleeves. I have to get out of here. I have to get out of here before something happens. Something that shouldn't. Something we can't take back.

  "Parker!" she hisses.

  All the times I fantasized hearing my name on her lips, it never once sounded like that—a mix of panic and concern and anger in one.

  I lift the window. "We can't do this."

  This time she does the ignoring, moving in front of me, blocking my path out. "Did your dad do it? Did this happen today? Because of me?"

  My dad? My dad? She thinks this whole thing is about him?

  My dad is a fucking lie!

  My family is a fucking lie!

  Everything she knows about my whole fucking life is a fucking lie!

  "Damn it, Jaden. Don't give yourself that much credit. Not everything is about you. The school, this town, the entire fucking world. This might come as a shock, but the universe doesn't revolve around you."

  "That's why you want to get away, isn't it? He hurts you!"

  Something like laughter builds in my throat. I don't know how to make her understand. There's no way she can understand—not yet. I can't ruin this. I can't ruin everything I've worked for.

  "It's not what you think."

  "It's not funny! You have to tell someone!"

  Second best.

  Callie.

  Jaden.

  It doesn't matter who.

  Whoever's in my life—however much I love her—as long as I'm undercover she will always come in second to this job.

  "Are you even listening to me?" I demand to know.

  It's not what you think!

  "Parker...this is a big deal! He can't do that to you!"

  This is pointless. I can't defend myself. "I have to go. I shouldn't be here. None of this should've happened."

  Her eyes narrow, accusing. "What?"

  I never should've come here—never should've kissed her. Not until I had something real to offer.

  "Get out of my way," I growl. If nothing else, she'll do what she's told—that much I know. And sure enough, she steps aside, biting into her lower lip. But it only tempts me, leaving me wishing I could pull her back in my arms, finishing what we started.

  "Look," she says, voice lowering. "I know you think that I'm like, this huge goody two shoes or whatever, and I realize I'm not the best person to give advice about something like this, but I know when..."

  "You don't know anything," I interrupt. "Just...keep that in mind."

  You have no idea.

  I slip back outside, step off that dormer and onto the roof. "No one hears about this. No one. Got it?"

  She stands at the window in her tank top and pajama pants, hugging herself against the damp air, eyes wet with tears.

  I swallow the knot in my throat.

  Please understand that I have to do this—that this is the only way.

  "Jaden?" I beg.

  She wipes her nose against her wrist, then traces an X on her chest, crossing her heart.

  My lungs constrict, suffocating me from the inside out.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  I slip inside the restroom the following morning, waiting for the halls to clear before making my way to English. I arrive seconds before the bell. My stomach twists when I see that brown paper bag on my chair, but I don't look at her. I don't smile or look at her or thank her, even though I know she's watching. I can feel her laser eyes boring holes into my side. And those celebrities, reminding me to READ and that IT IS NEVER TOO LATE TO BE WHAT YOU MIGHT HAVE BEEN.

  I can't do this. I can't be in this room with her. I can't be at this school. I can't risk running into her. I can't risk her cornering me, wanting to talk. But I can't sit here and wait while nothing happens, either.

  I'll fix this. Right now.

  I bail out of second period and drive to Hamilton, skipping school the second day in a row. I park my bike in a public access lot outside the station and jog across the street, through the lobby, and up two flights of stairs.

  "I need to see the Chief," I tell the administrative assistant guarding his office, breathless. "It's important."

  She picks up the phone. "Chief? It's Officer Whalen."

  In seconds, the door swings wide. I shoulder past Anderson, and he shuts it behind us. I dig inside my jacket pocket and produce the USB recorder. "I have everything we need to make an arrest on my case, Sir."

  He motions for me to sit in one of the two leather seats in the already cramped space and returns to his own chair. He rolls it forward, folds his hands together, and props his elbows on the desk.

  "I'm actually glad you stopped by, Whalen," he begins. "I got an interesting call from your principal this morning."

  A ripple of fear slides up my spine.

  "The rumor is that you skipped school yesterday with one of your classmates. One of your female classmates. Confirm or deny?"

  "Confirm, Sir, but it's not what you think."

  "No, it's exactly what I think. We sent you into that school to work undercover. We gave you the resources and the training. We gave you permission to do what you needed to do to get the job done. And to be quite honest, I don't like getting calls from principals telling me my agents are engaging in questionable behavior. Do I have to call the DEA? Take you off this assignment?"

  "I have everything we need. I can name names, Sir."

  His neck tightens, veins protruding from his skin. "That's not what we're discussing!" He points a finger at me. "Now, I don't know who this colleague is or what you're doing..."

  "She's my English partner," I interrupt. "It's nothing. Nothing happened between us."

  "That's good to hear, because if you have done anything to jeopardize this case or your good standing in this department..."

  "I haven't, I swear. This guy—Vince De Luca—he's linked to deals in two separate counties. We have enough evidence to incriminate him in court. We can set up a sting."

  He eyes me warily, hesitating. "You're sure about this?"

  "Yes, Sir. I'm positive."

  "Okay," he agrees. "We'll get a group together and go over the information."

  "Soon," I argue. "I want this to happen as soon as possible—within the next couple of weeks. And...." I trail off, exhaling a nervous breath. "I want to be the arresting officer."

  He grabs a handful of papers, a few folders, stacks them together and sets them aside. "Get rid of the girl. Make sure she knows you are not available for a fling, and you've got a deal."

  * * *

  I return to the high school before last period. I grab a notecard from my backpack, remove a Sharpie, and scribble the words:

  WE NEED TO TALK.

  I make my way down the empty hall, not stopping until I reach Jaden's locker, and not stopping even then. I slip the note between slats and keep moving. Focused. When the final bell rings, I drop my biology book off at my own locker and pick up math. I've missed two problem sets already this week—two days in a row.

  "Is it true?" a voice says.

  I glance to my left, where Tyler and Friend stand, ogling me, eyes bulging out of their heads.

  "Is what true?"

  "Did you and Jaden McEntyre really skip school together?" Tyler asks.

  I force a smile, like this amuses me. "Where did you hear that?"

  He shrugs, shakes his head, as if the answer is obvious. "Everyone."

  Across the hall the artsy girl—paint-stained fingers and flannel shirt—stares at me. Everyone around me stares.
And I know someone saw us leave together, that the news spread like wildfire, traveled over the course of the day. Intensified. Made its way to Principal Howell....

  I don't know what to do. I don't know what to say to keep Jaden from getting into even more trouble than she's already in. And so I do what I do best.

  "Yeah, well, I don't think I'd believe everyone," I say, slamming my locker door shut.

  I lie.

  I lie and I walk away, leaving them to their theories—their whispered conversations.

  Outside, the wind is picking up. Gray clouds smother the sky, hovering—bursting with rain.

  I jog across the parking lot, heading toward her Civic.

  She's not here. I don't see her anywhere. A gust whips through the trees; new, green leaves rustle, rubbing together. It's like the whole world is out of whack, ready to explode.

  This doesn't look good.

  "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

  I turn toward the voice carried on the wind.

  Blake.

  I ease away from Jaden's car, distancing myself. "Look, I just have to tell her one thing," I explain. "That's it."

  His eyes harden, jaw tightening. "Anything you have to tell her, you can tell me."

  "Can I tell her what a douchebag you are?"

  His fingers curl into a fist—a fist that almost immediately connects with my face. My body jolts backward, the force jarring my neck. I right myself, blinking back the stars blurring my vision.

  "Were you with her yesterday? Were the two of you really together?" he demands to know, moving closer.

  Blood drips down my fingers, pouring from my nose.

  It's broken. It has to be broken.

  "That's none of your fucking business." I tilt my head backward to slow the bleeding.

  "My girlfriend is my business."

  But the way he says girlfriend—the way the word rolls off his tongue, slips into the space between us—ignites a raging inferno inside. My helmet crashes to the ground. My bag slips from my shoulder. And, in a second, I have his collar by the fistful.

  One punch.

  One punch for lying to Jaden.

  Two punches.

  Two punches for making her think you were perfect.

  My fingers sting, throbbing, red with pain. I release his shirt, shoving him away from me. He steadies himself and rushes forward, ramming me back.

  And then Jaden is between us, eyes grasping mine. Eyes wide with something that might be fear—afraid for me or afraid of me, I can't tell, but that look—it's the only thing that could ever make me stop kicking this guy's ass.

  "Stop!" she demands. She turns toward Blake. "Blake! Stop it!"

  He closes in on us, jaw bruised, a cut bleeding beneath his eye. "What are you waiting for, asshole?"

  Jaden pushes against his chest, forcing him back. "Blake, stop it! What...what are you doing?"

  "Giving this asshole exactly what he deserves."

  "No!"

  Tony steps in, grabs Blake by the arms, hauls him away.

  A crowd gathers.

  Something else for them to gossip about tomorrow.

  I snatch my bag and helmet off the ground, blood spattering the pavement. Jaden follows me to my bike, reaches for my arm. I shrug her away, wipe my nose across my jacket sleeve, slip my helmet over my head, and fasten the strap.

  "Parker, wait," she begs.

  I swing my leg over the motorcycle.

  "No. I'm done," I say, chest heaving, lungs burning. "Just keep something in mind for me, okay Jaden? Perfect people? They're always hiding something." She blinks, not understanding. I steal a glance in Blake's direction. "Ask your boyfriend where he was Saturday night."

  I press the ignition, and the engine roars to life.

  It's better this way. She knows we're over. She knows the kind of guy Blake really is. It's the best I can do right now. I have to get away from this girl—as fast as I can. My job—my whole life—depends on it.

  On my way out of town I get caught at a couple of stop signs, and then in traffic by the middle school.

  It's better this way.

  It's better this way.

  If I repeat the words enough, maybe I'll start believing them.

  And then a train passes through, and I'm barely three miles from school when Jaden catches up to me.

  I don't know how she knew which way to go—how she found me—if all of this is some kind of sign.

  I don't believe in signs.

  It's better this way.

  I continue down country highway, thinking she'll get the point. That she'll give up. Turn around.

  But I know better.

  And I can't let her follow me all the way back to my apartment, so I flip on my turn signal and pull into the yard of an abandoned trailer sandwiched between fields. A trailer I pass every day but barely give a second thought. The place is a wreck: garbage bags heaped in piles, overgrown grass, rusted cars and stacks of used tires.

  I could live here.

  I rip off my helmet, kill the engine as Jaden pulls beside me.

  "Parker!"

  I climb the weathered steps, eyeing the front door. I can break in if I have to. She doesn't have to know….

  "Parker, please wait!"

  "We're not doing this, Jaden."

  "Is this about Blake? Because if it is I'm so..."

  "This has nothing to do with him!" I interrupt. I skip back down the steps, meet her in the yard. The wind blows between us, tousling her hair. Her green eyes are alight. On fire.

  "Then what's the problem?" she shouts. "You wanted to meet me, remember? What do you want to say to me, Parker?"

  What do I want to say to her? Or what do I have to say to her?

  I want to tell her that she can't believe a word I say—not a single fucking word that comes out of my mouth. That everything I've said—that everything I'm about to say—is a lie. That I've never lied more to one human being than I've lied to her.

  I have to tell her we're done.

  There's no other choice.

  "I'm telling you that we're over."

  She laughs, but there's no humor in it. "What? What's over? What have we started that you want finished?"

  "We can't do this," I clarify.

  "We can't do it? Or you can't do it?" she challenges. "Or maybe you don't want to do it."

  I want to do it. I just can't.

  "Come on, Parker. What's the problem? If you don't like me then tell me. If you don't want us to go any further then fine, but I'm going to tell you something: that's not what I want at all." She folds her arms across her chest, defiant. "And run away all you want, but you can't hide anything from me. So stop pretending like none of this is a big deal."

  It is a big deal. That's what she doesn't understand. It's a bigger deal than she can even imagine. I let her go, I get my arrest. I let her go, I get my arrest, I leave Bedford High and maybe—just maybe—we stand a chance.

  But I am not the Parker Whalen she thinks I am, and we can never be together as long as I'm pretending to be someone I'm not.

  "I'm giving you the perfect out," she continues. "Our project is almost over, we'll be graduating, and we'll never see each other again. If that's what you want then say it!"

  The thought of never seeing her again, of letting her go, of her moving on without me....

  This is what you have to do, Whalen. This is the bed you made—the price you pay. If it's meant to be, she'll forgive you when it's all over.

  "That's how it was supposed to be in the first place."

  "So what happened? I don't understand. What's the problem here?"

  I can't answer, but I don't have to.

  "I'll tell you what happened," she says. "What happened is that...I fell in love with you, Parker. That whole thing about timing? You were right. There is no such thing as perfect timing. And this is the worst timing ever, actually, because you're going to go on, you're going to graduate and leave. And that's fine, but I'm telling you,
right now, at this moment, I think...I think I love you." Her voice breaks, cracking as she says the words.

  I love you.

  The blood in my veins runs cold, turns to ice. My heart stops pumping in my chest. The entire world stops turning.

  No. No. No. No. She can't do this to me. Not yet.

  But she did.

  She said it.

  I can't believe she said it. To me. Out loud.

  "I love you more than I've ever loved...anything. And you have been on my mind for weeks. And being late that day—you being my partner—is the best thing that ever happened to me. And forgive me if I thought that maybe you felt the same way. Was I wrong thinking that?"

  No. She wasn't wrong. Because I love her, too. And she's been on my mind for weeks. And her being late that day—being my partner—is the best thing that ever happened to me.

  The words claw their way up my throat, desperate to be heard.

  I love you, too.

  I love you, too.

  I swipe the blood still trickling from my nose, forcing them back.

  "You can at least give me that much, Parker. You can run away, you can hide forever, but look me in the eye and tell me you don't love me, first."

  I lift my head toward the gray, cloud-filled sky. "I don't love you. I can't."

  "You didn't even look at me and say it!" she yells. "Look me in the eye, and tell me you don't have any feelings for me. Or are you scared? You're scared because maybe you do have feelings for me and could possibly want me as much as I want you."

  Another cool breeze blows between us, lifting goose bumps to the surface of my skin. She's right. I am scared, and I do want her. I've never wanted anything—anyone—more than I want this girl.

  But Chief Anderson's voice fills my head, and it's not a voice I can ignore.

  Get rid of the girl, Whalen.

  "You know, I didn't ask for this," she continues, voice lower. "My life was a whole lot easier before you came along. It wasn't perfect, and yeah, it might've been boring, but it was manageable. But you did come along, Parker, and I can't ignore that. You can push me away, and try to forget anything ever happened between us, but I can tell you that, for me, something definitely happened. At least I'm being honest. You said you never told a lie, so tell me the truth."