NOT SO Innocent: a bay falls high novel

by Kidman, Jaxson

  It scratched against the floor as I pulled it toward the desk.

  “So… why creative writing?” Miss Whitaker asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Why this class?”

  “Because I’m desperate to graduate and needed something.”

  “That’s a lie,” she said. “I’ve read what you have to say. It’s really good.”

  “Yeah, but… what?” I asked. “You read what I have to say? Where? Do you know Jo? Dr. Thornburn?”

  I caught myself leaning toward Miss Whitaker and whispering like I knew something very secret.

  She leaned toward me. “Of course I know Dr. Thornburn. Not personally though. Why?”

  “Then how do you… know about me?”

  “The paper you left on my desk.”

  “What paper?”

  Miss Whitaker finally got the same confused look on her face that I had.

  She reached across her desk and showed me a piece of paper.

  It was the page from my notebook that Ash had stolen.

  * * *

  “I did not turn this in,” I said. “This was stolen from me. Someone stole it out of my notebook and brought it to you. No way. This is-”

  “It’s beautiful,” Miss Whitaker said.

  “What?” I asked.

  “It’s perfect. The voice is perfect. The imagery. I love everything about it.”

  “You do?”

  “You said you were looking forward to this class, right?”

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “Then be here,” Miss Whitaker said. She leaned toward me. “Here’s the truth, Belle. This is a bullshit class. But it keeps things even. I try hard to push for more reading and writing. I want everyone to express themselves a little bit more. And not through text messaging and stupid video apps. Nobody wants to see you flip a water bottle while doing some video game dance, you know?”

  I laughed.

  Miss Whitaker was kind of the definition of trying to be cool.

  I couldn’t figure her out.

  But I was still listening when she talked to me.

  “They come in here and they all just sit and relax,” she said. “I don’t push anyone hard. All I ask is you write something and put it on my desk. Most of them they’re a bunch of smartass things written down. The sky is blue. Duck and fuck rhyme.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “I have an open policy for cursing,” she said. “It’s expressing yourself. So let it out.”

  “Okay then,” I said. I nodded to the paper. “Can I see that quick?”

  “It’s your writing,” she said.

  She handed me the page.

  the color in his name matches the sheets I touched in the dark

  the curtains whispered rumors

  dancing with the wind

  maybe it was just my breath, gasping, I’m not really sure yet

  when his fingers moved between mine

  but I was still the one in control

  my answer never changed even if my heartbeat

  did

  we were forgotten of our memories

  the little cut on your knee in the spring

  chasing shadows down a sidewalk

  realizing that for-

  ever

  could sort of feel okay

  but your color

  and my color

  I stopped there and folded the piece of paper.

  I mouthed ohmygod as I handed it back to Miss Whitaker.

  She put her hand over mine and shook her head. “It’s yours, Belle. And I think it’s beautiful. Sure, there’s always something you could change. Edit. Move around. But the entire story is just… it’s perfect. It made me smile. It brought back memories for me.”

  The entire story as Miss Whitaker called it was the front of that page, plus a few more. Luckily Ash didn’t rip those out. They were even more personal.

  Oh, I fucking hated Ash with all my guts…

  “I don’t get it,” I said. “Why would someone steal this from me and give it to you?”

  “Not sure,” Miss Whitaker said.

  I looked around the room, expecting to see Ash sitting somewhere with his perfect hair, face, jaw line, body, and tattoos.

  There was no sight of him though.

  “Does…”

  I let the word trail off into oblivion.

  “Does, what?” Miss Whitaker asked.

  I looked at her again.

  “Um… does… does anyone ever fail this class?”

  “That’s the bitch of it,” Miss Whitaker whispered. “It’s hard to fail anyone because this class is about freedom of expression. Most of the time I can get something out of them. Which is all I ask. Maybe they’ll leave and continue to write things down. Or read an actual book. If so, then I’ve done my job. I’ve failed a few people but only when it’s extreme.”

  I nodded as though I cared.

  What I wanted to ask her was if Ash was in her class. But I knew opening that door wouldn’t have done me any good.

  Even still, thanks to Ash, I was now all over Miss Whitaker’s radar. Which wasn’t a bad thing. I really was looking forward to this class.

  “So let’s talk assignments,” she said, breaking up my thoughts.

  “Meaning?”

  “Well, this is a class. You want to be here. You have talent. I have no idea what you want to do with that talent…”

  I shrugged my shoulders.

  She reached for her desk and opened a drawer.

  She took out a gray beanie with the BFH logo on it.

  As she shook it, she said, “I did this once in college and it was great. I wrote down random objects on a piece of paper and put them in here. Pick one at random, write about it, and get a grade.”

  “Everyone else did this?” I asked.

  Miss Whitaker raised an eyebrow. “Why are you worried about everyone else, Belle? Look, you’re going to pass this class. So if you want to sit in a corner like the rest of these zombies, have at it. But if you want to actually write some stuff, here you go.”

  “Can’t I just make up my own assignments?”

  Miss Whitaker nodded. “Solid argument. Write me something. Right now. First thing that comes to mind.”

  She tossed the beanie to her desk and little scraps of paper spilled out.

  I looked around the room again and started to feel bad.

  She probably put a lot of time and effort into this class and it wasn’t taken seriously.

  I spotted Danica. Sitting with her legs over some guy’s legs, who sat with his back against the wall, head back, eyes shut, cigarette tucked behind his ear.

  She had the puppy dog in love eyes and this guy wasn’t even looking at her.

  Be careful with those eyes, Danica… if he ever opens his…

  I let out a sigh and asked Miss Whitaker for paper and pen.

  She gave me her desk and said she was going to make her rounds to mold some minds and break some balls as she put it.

  So I sat behind Miss Whitaker’s desk with a piece of paper and a pen.

  This was weird for me.

  Nobody had ever taken my writing serious ever in my life.

  It was always just me doing whatever I wanted in a notebook.

  I looked at Danica again.

  I frowned.

  it’s when his eyes,

  are shut

  that i can actually

  see

  but i can’t

  look away

  from any of

  this

  my legs on yours

  the chains

  an endless

  lock

  like your grip

  around

  my heart

  stare at me with

  those eyes

  i know what you

  mean

  but i’ll

  ask

  you to say it

  again anyway

  you’re such a stupid


  boy

  you can’t hear or

  even see

  to realize

  i just want

  you

  i should want

  me

  I folded up the piece of paper and left the pen on it.

  I stood up and saw Miss Whitaker crouched down, her long dress pressed against her knees. She was talking to some girl, pointing to a page in a book. They were smiling as they talked.

  My eyes met with Danica’s.

  She gave a quick wave and made an eek face.

  I pointed to the door and waved back at her.

  She looked at her half asleep boy toy and then back at me.

  She bit her lip, fighting regret and guilt.

  I put my finger to my lips.

  Don’t worry about it. I hope whatever he gives you, it’s worth it. Because it’s totally obvious he doesn’t like you and never will and will just use you for one thing…

  I walked to the door and turned my head one last time.

  Miss Whitaker was in the same position.

  She was obviously passionate about reading and writing.

  The one thing I always wished I had in my life.

  I debated on staying.

  But I felt exposed.

  I hated that feeling.

  So I compromised.

  I snuck back to her desk and grabbed one of the pieces of paper with a word on it.

  I didn’t look at what was written on it though.

  I just stuck it in my back pocket.

  There… happy now, Miss Whitaker?

  eleven

  I stood outside BFH and smoked.

  And it was glorious.

  The sun was high up in the sky, not a cloud to block it. It was warm, but not hot.

  It might have been the perfect kind of day.

  The thought of the beach began to tempt me.

  I laughed… you’re a beach bitch now, Belle? You’re here for, what? A couple of days and now you’re-

  “Is that cigarette smoke I smell?” a voice boomed.

  I looked around and didn’t see anyone.

  “There is no smoking in or near my building!”

  “Shit,” I whispered.

  It was Principal Werthwood.

  “Fuck,” I added for good measure.

  I dropped my cigarette and stepped on it.

  I turned and grabbed the door and pulled.

  Locked.

  I sighed.

  So some doors locked when you left and some didn’t.

  Just. Fucking. Great.

  I turned and Hil was standing there.

  I opened my mouth to scream and he quickly put his hand over my mouth.

  My eyes moved from his beautiful, gray eyes to his knuckles.

  They were covered in blood.

  I wanted to scream even louder, but I couldn’t scream at all.

  With his other hand, Hil put his pointer finger to his lips. That same hand then touched my waist.

  I jumped and gasped.

  He moved me like I was a feather.

  We moved with speed, cutting around the corner of the building and into the bushes. Hil knew how to hide, which was a good thing.

  As fast as we were moving, he stopped.

  He faced me and pinned me against the building.

  Very slowly, he moved his hand from my mouth and grinned at me.

  Then he added a wink.

  I rolled my eyes for good measure.

  “What are we-”

  “Lots I want you to do with that mouth, beauty, but right now you need to keep it shut,” he said.

  Heat flooded my cheeks.

  And it didn’t help the situation that he was literally pressed against me.

  His body. My body.

  Touching.

  I swallowed hard.

  “Hello? Where did you run to?” Principal Werthwood’s voice yelled. “I will find you. Show yourself right now to save punishment!”

  Hil shook his head.

  I felt my arms and legs starting to shake.

  And believe me, it had nothing to do with Principal Werthwood creeping around, throwing out threats.

  It was Hil.

  Him against me.

  His hand all messed up.

  I saw movement and watched with wide eyes as Principal Werthwood walked right by the bushes.

  He didn’t see us.

  When he was gone, Hil still didn’t move.

  “Give it another minute,” he whispered. “Just to be safe.”

  I waited the minute.

  I looked left to right.

  “I think we’re in the clear,” I said.

  “Oh, we definitely are, beauty,” Hil said. “I just like the position we’re in.”

  I lifted the right side of my lip and my right knee at the same time.

  I didn’t get him where I wanted to but the warning was enough for him to step back.

  “Damn,” he said.

  “I didn’t need your help,” I said.

  “Yes, you did. You were screwed, Belle. He’s on a war path.”

  “I don’t care. Wait. Why’s he on a war path?”

  Hil grinned in a way I’d never forget. Because he looked at his bloody knuckles as he grinned.

  I gasped. “What did you do?”

  “Nothing,” he said.

  I jumped at him and grabbed his leather jacket. The smell of the leather and the smell of cigarette smoke and his skin was just… different.

  The kind of different that was supposed to set off all the red flags possible in my head. And it did. The red flags were waving. But I wasn’t paying attention to them. I was hooked on his gray eyes.

  “Hil,” I said.

  “Belle,” he said.

  I slowly reached for his hand. I touched under his wrist and shook my head. “What did you do?”

  “What I said I was going to do,” he whispered. “I always keep my word, beauty. Especially to you.”

  “No, that’s a lie,” I said. “This whole chosen thing is ridiculous too. You and Ash are just trying to fuck with me. You want to get into my pants and it’s not going to work. Just stop whatever you’re doing.”

  I pushed my way out of the bushes and took a deep breath of freedom.

  That warm sunny air…

  I turned my head and Hil was right behind me, arms folded.

  He looked pissed.

  “Don’t give me that look,” I said. “I don’t know what you did but I had nothing to do with it.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong, beauty,” he said. “You had everything to do with it. You don’t even realize who you are…”

  “Oh, please, give me all the cheap lines you’ve got,” I said. “I’m begging you, Hil.”

  He moved toward me and I had to turn. I made a fist and showed it to him. Just in case.

  “Look at you. You’ve got this innocent look… but you’re not innocent at all. That’s what makes you wild to me, Belle. The look. The name too. That dirty blonde hair with those darker streaks. Your eyes are dark yet light at the same time. Those kissable, pouty lips that make me want to stay up all night, smoke cigarettes, and fantasize about you…”

  Okay. He was good at that. At the flirting thing. Which was fine. And it was okay my body felt… whatever it felt… it didn’t mean anything was going to happen…

  “So you’re bored with the same old girls around here, huh?” I asked. “That’s too bad, Hil. I’m not interested.”

  “What do I have to do? Kill Ryan for you?”

  My throat closed. I coughed. “What? Kill… no…” I looked at his knuckles. Oh. Fuck. My eyes went wide. “Ryan. You went after him.”

  “I finished what Uly started,” Hil said. “Typical.” He laughed. I didn’t get why that was funny. “I balanced it out. Don’t worry though, Belle. He’ll be able to play baseball. Soon. He’ll be back to crushing home runs and acting like an asshole. But now he knows who you are.”

  I touched my forehe
ad. “No. I didn’t ask you to do that. I didn’t ask Uly to do that either. I didn’t ask… anyone…”

  “You’re chosen, beauty,” Hil said. “That means we take care of you. And then you’ll take care of me.”

  “Just you, huh?” I asked, trying to playfully smile but it came out more like a desperate cry for help.

  “I told you, I don’t share,” he said.

  He stepped toward me again and brushed the backs of his fingers to my chin to lift my head. He lowered his lips down to mine for the softest and almost not a kiss I ever had.

  I counted to ten as he walked away.

  Then I reached for the wall.

  So I didn’t fall over.

  * * *

  Who was the first person I saw when the last class ended for the day?

  Ash.

  Lingering near my locker but not paying attention to it or me.

  I hurried to get my bag and shut my locker to follow him.

  There were just too many things rushing through my mind on what I wanted to do to him.

  Punch him in the face? Kick him in the balls? Claw at his face? Poke one of his eyes out? Stab…

  My thoughts started to get more and more violent so I shut myself up and just followed Ash.

  He was tall. Toned - his triceps flexing as he walked, hidden behind all the colorful ink on his arms but I could still see the muscles flexing.

  Leave me alone - I have a soft spot for that…

  Everything about him was put together and perfect.

  But beyond that - including the lingering smell of his cologne that seemed to go up my nose and straight to my brain and heart at the same time, making them both agree that whatever he did to me was okay and that falling for him would be even better - it was the way everyone responded to him.

  He didn’t say a word to anyone.

  Yet they all looked at him.

  Girls eyes went wide. More than a few bit their bottom lips.

  The guys made sure not to get in Ash’s way. And if they were too close, they stepped back and put their hands up, submitting to him like he was going to hurt them.

  And any guy that had a girlfriend, they were quick to grab their girlfriend by the hand or the waist to remind her that she was taken.

  It was crazy to see.

  Yet his eyes were forward.

  All the way to the main door of BFH.

  He punched it open so cool and just kept going.

  I let the door smack shut and gently opened it.