Manic: A Dark High School Bully Romance
Page 9
“Where are we going?” Arlena asked, interrupting my train of thought. I realized that I’d been subconsciously heading to Eddie’s and changed direction at the next light.
“Figured we’d just drive around for a while,” I said. “I think better when I’m driving. The roses, what color were they?”
“The fresh one was red,” she said. “It was hard to tell with the other two, but I think they were also red before they were brown.”
Sam’s grandma grew red roses on the roof of their building in a little greenhouse. She’d always told me that if I was ever going to give her flowers, it shouldn’t be those, because that would be like stealing something living from her, killing it, and giving it back.
My jaw hurt as I ground my teeth. “Has anybody in particular been giving you trouble? I know the whole school has kind of been after you, but does anybody stick out specifically?”
Arlena looked out the window silently. Her shoulders were tense and she fidgeted with her fingers. This girl had no poker face at all.
“Who?” I asked. I figured I already knew the answer.
She gave me a look that was almost a pout. “You,” she said on a sigh. “And Sam.”
I wasn’t expecting her answer and it hit me like a punch in the gut. Honestly, I should have seen it coming, though - with the way I’d been behaving, but I didn’t like feeling like a villain. I had always been the protector, the one the vulnerable people came to for protection whenever they could. Defensive hackles rose up my spine.
“Hold on a second, let’s be fair here. I had just watched my brother get sent to prison over basically nothing, and your dad did the sending, and I had no idea before it happened that you were part of it.”
“I wasn’t,” she blurted out.
I paused, frowning, barely watching the road. I’d gone over there because I was worried about her, because I was worried about all this getting out of hand. I still thought she was responsible, though. Her family, her father, her fault.
“Just stop fucking lying to me Arlena?” My voice had a bite to it, and I did nothing to hold it back.
She curled her hands into fists as if fighting with herself. “Everything you said about me being a snitch or a rat or whatever…all of it was false. I haven’t told my dad a goddamn thing. Do you think Eddie would still be walking free if I was here to snitch?”
“It would make sense,” I shot back. “He has a lot of connections with a lot of people. It would make a whole bunch of fucking sense to let him keep doing his thing for a little while longer. Reveal all the secrets he can. Hang around enough to give you names…addresses…”
“Sure,” she snapped. “If I was close to him. If that was my goal don’t you think I would have snuggled up to him? He isn’t exactly the most challenging person in the world. I’ve got tits, I could have been all up in Eddie’s business in like two minutes.”
Hearing her say those words out loud stung like a million fucking hornets at the back of my neck as I pictured her in Eddie’s arms. I tried not to let it show and shook the thought away. When I opened my mouth to argue, all of the arguments I had lined up suddenly sounded far-fetched. I pretended to concentrate hard on switching lanes instead.
“Besides,” she went on. “If I was a mole or a spy or something, don’t you think my Dad would have pulled me out of school as soon as I got called out? What good is a spy that no one will talk to? For that matter, why use me at all? I suck at making new friends, you saw that. I couldn’t navigate that school at all until you rescued me. You think I somehow predicted that a knight in shining leather would have swooped in to save me and bring me to all the deepest, darkest places around Burnaby High?”
I shrugged. “Okay, so that part probably wasn’t premeditated. But you could have been opportunistic. When you weren’t getting any validation at school it would have made sense for you to try to get validation at home by proving to your dad that you could be useful to him.”
She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Really? Again, the only illegal shit I even knew about was the stuff going on at Eddie’s, and I participated in that! You really think I’m dumb enough to tell on myself? You know what I was supposed to be doing that night? Sleeping. My mom had been badgering me about getting my body back on the school schedule. That was what my parents wanted me to do, that’s what I told them I was doing. That was their one and only concern about my life - that I got enough sleep to reset my rhythms.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “Reset your rhythms?”
She shifted uncomfortably and tossed her hair. “Yes. Since I didn’t have to get up early all winter break, I was told to restart my school schedule so the first day back wouldn’t be a shock to my system.”
I couldn’t stop laughing. It was hurting her feelings, which I didn’t want, but I couldn’t help it. I laughed so hard I had to wipe tears from my goddamn eyes just to keep driving.
“What the hell is so funny?” she exploded.
I pulled over onto the curb and parked. I really couldn’t see, I was laughing so hard. I wrestled myself under control, but every time I glanced at her pissed-off little face I busted up again.
“Fine, whatever. I’ll walk home.”
That did it. “No!” I shouted. Her fingers froze on the door handle. “This is not a safe neighborhood for you to be wandering around in after dark.” Like hell was I gonna be the reason she got dragged into a dark alley.
She crossed her arms and glared at me. “Then quit laughing at me! Or at least tell me what’s so goddamn funny.”
“It’s not,” I said. “It’s really not. I have never, ever, in my whole life heard of parents telling their kids a single goddamn thing about their—rhythms. Hell, most people I know quit getting bedtimes by the time they turned twelve. They were expected to handle it. If they missed the bus, they’d get their asses beat. If they fell asleep in class and the parents were bothered about it, they’d get their asses beat. Nobody’s got time for that hippy shit around here. Everybody’s working or hustling just to keep food on the table.”
The shock on her face nearly sent me into another fit of laughter, but by the grace of something holy, I swallowed it.
“You don’t mean they actually hit their kids?” she asked, her eyes wide and troubled. God, if she’s that upset about this there’s no way she could handle the bad shit that goes on around here. I wrapped one hand around hers and tried to look comforting. I didn’t quite manage it. Ass whoopings are so mundane, so normal as to be boring. But she was really shaken, and it forced me to see things from her side.
“Of course they do,” I said gently. How the hell can I explain this? “How did your parents discipline you, Arlena?”
“The-the normal way!” She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. “I guess normal is relative. Okay, so let’s take your examples. I never missed the bus because I never took the bus. My mom always drove me to school. I never fell asleep in class because my mom always enforced a strict bedtime.”
“Okay, what if you broke something?”
“Like what?”
I shrugged. “Anything. No, something expensive. Say you were screwing around in the house and you broke something that cost a lot of money.”
She frowned, thinking. “I don’t know if that ever happened, honestly. I didn’t really screw around in the house. I played outside, mostly, or in the basement if the weather was bad. Plus, I didn’t have a whole lot of extra energy after school and swimming and equestrian class and gymnastics. I mean, I didn’t do all of those on the same day, but there was always some way to burn off energy after school.”
I stared at her, wide-eyed and completely disbelieving. It was like I was seeing her for the first time. Her perfect skin, her perfect nose and mouth, her perfect nails, her brand name clothes. I’d assumed they were thrift store finds, but now I was certain that she’d bought them from a store with a matching name. Equestrian class, really? God, this was a wide gap.
“Did you ever re
bel?” I asked, genuinely curious now.
She smiled mischievously and shrugged. “I didn’t tell my parents what really happened at April and May’s parties. They’re twins, super wild twins. Their parents know my parents, but only because they’re members of the same club. Thing is, the parents are always gone on some business venture or vacation or something, so the kids have run of the house. The maids are all fed up with the parents’ shit, so they don’t care what the kids do. Coke, heroine, orgies, you name it.”
“Huh. I’m impressed. So you went to those parties?”
She blushed and looked away. “Only twice. The first time I didn’t really understand what was going on—I just drank soda and ate pizza and danced and swam and stuff. I saw a lot, but I didn’t have any context for it until later. Then there was the second time.”
She sighed heavily. “It was the twins’ birthday. For once their parents were actually there—sort of. They kind of just got the ball rolling then disappeared into the den with a bunch of other parents. May OD’d in the bathroom and the maid took her to the ER. Since a bunch of parents were there that night, I figured the story would eventually make it back to my parents, and I didn’t dare go back after that. But I heard the stories.”
I frowned, thinking. “Gossip, or bragging?”
She shrugged. “Little bit of both, I guess.”
“How did they deal with the gossip?”
She chewed on that for a second, then nodded out the window at a shadowy group of people approaching. “Do you know them?”
I started the car and pulled into the street. “Not gonna stick around and find out, not with you in the car.”
She shot me a hurt look. I wanted to ignore it, but it was so obvious to me now that she really didn’t understand how things worked around here. With her history, she’d be taking this personally. It shouldn’t matter to me. It really shouldn’t. Still, that protective feeling crawled up my spine I sighed.
“Your name is poison right now. When you first got here, you were an unknown element. Potential danger. My association with potential danger nullifies the danger. Now that you’ve been outed, you’re a very real threat. People see me with you now, they’re going to think my loyalty has flipped.”
She hissed a breath through her teeth. “Your loyalty to Sam?”
“What? No. My general loyalty.”
She shook her head, confused. You’d think her dad would have given her a crash course or something before dragging her down here, shit.
“Okay, look. Loyalty is everything around here. You are who you know. You’ve got your gangs and your weed man, your block mamas and pimp daddies, and your school colors. Some people, like me and Eddie and Damon, exist outside those hard lines. We’re loyal to each other, and all those little fragmented factions are loyal to us. But there’s one line nobody crosses, and that’s the cops. If you’re loyal to the cops, you’re dead to the rest of us.”
“Okay—so?”
Really? My irritation must have showed on my face because she bit her lip. It did very bad, very distracting things to my train of thought.
“So, your dad is the Super Prosecutor. He works with the cops, with the DA, with everybody. He is firmly anchored right in the middle of all things cop. Family loyalty being what it is, you’re guilty by association. That association isn’t something my good looks and charm can compensate for. If I’m seen with you, it won’t bail you out. It’ll just drag me under with you.”
There was that hurt look in her eyes again, flashing painful currents right through my soul. Damn it, why couldn’t I make her understand? I’d been on to something before—oh, right.
“April and May, you said there was gossip about their parties.”
She was simultaneously relieved and annoyed at the sudden shift, but she didn’t fight me on it.
“Well, some things they embraced and turned into brags. Other things, like certain people claiming to have slept with them, they fought. They threatened to sue whoever it was who was talking shit, and that person would always back down because they had the money to back it up. Their parents had some big-name lawyers on retainer.”
This glimpse into the lives and drama of rich people was slowly blowing my mind. My ideas on how to get her up to speed were quickly unraveling.
“Okay, so check it out. We’ll take Sam, for example.”
Arlena made a face. I ignored it.
“If Sam had ever, ever showed up to school to find her picture plastered all over the place the way you did, she would have kicked a dozen asses before lunch. By the end of the day, she would have the name of the person who did it and she would kick his ass too, in the most public and embarrassing way possible. She would have dared anybody to call her that again. If anybody took the dare—”
“Let me guess, she’d kick their ass?”
“Exactly. But Sam isn’t the most subtle person in the world. There are other ways to get the same results. Nobody counts on teachers because the teachers are so burned out they can’t afford to give a shit. Nobody counts on lawyers because nobody can afford them. All you have down here are your connections and your skills, that’s it.”
She sighed heavily. “My only connection is—was—you.”
“Is,” I said. She looked at me surprised, and I nodded. “I’ll help you get to the bottom of this. I’ll help you find the person responsible and make them stop. But there’s one stipulation.”
She slouched prettily against the seat, reminding me of all the things I was fucking missing. All the things I never knew I fucking wanted before she strolled into town like a misplaced walking, talking, crystal vase. So fragile. So clean and new and fresh and innocent.
“What’s that?” she said, snapping me right back to reality.
I nodded and reeled my thoughts back in. “I can never, ever be seen with you. You can’t talk to me at school. You can’t text me first unless it’s an actual fucking emergency. Hell, if it’s an emergency, just call me. That’s easier to cover up.”
She scowled. “So what, I have to act like some kind of shady sidepiece now?”
I grinned at her, genuinely impressed. “Look at you, picking up the native lingo! Yeah, basically. I mean, unless you feel like getting us both dead.”
Her eyes widened, true horror marring her perfect features. “You really think they’d kill us?”
I shook my head and shrugged. The motion worked to confuse the hell out of her even more. “Can’t tell you that for sure. I have a hunch or two about who we’re dealing with. If I’m right, you aren’t in danger of dying. Getting a beat down, sure, but not dying. If I’m wrong—well then you know as much as I do.”
“Oh.” She tipped her head back against the seat and sighed. “Do people really kill people over who their parents are?”
“Are you kidding? Beefs can last generations, and not just here. You’ve read Romeo and Juliet. This isn’t exactly a new phenomenon. Yeah, if someone was pissed enough about something your dad did and didn’t give a shit about you, they would absolutely take you down just to spite him.”
She turned and gave me a hard look. “And you’re okay with all this?”
“All of what?”
She gestured around at the dingy apartments rising up on either side of us, boasting their busted windows and marred façade. “This. The poverty. Parents beating their kids. Burnt out teachers. People getting killed over nonsense. Drugs and gangs and feuds and loyalties. This is all just fine to you?”
I narrowed my eyes and fixed her with a hard look. “Did I say that?”
“You didn’t have to. I’ve never seen you look happier than when you’re describing your world for me.”
I scoffed. “My world? This is our world, princess. We’ve only got the one, you know. Just because you’ve been isolated from it your whole life doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. This disparity you’re seeing? It affects every aspect of both of our lives. The difference between you and me is that your parents shielded you from it, whi
le mine tossed me out in it.”
We were pulling onto her street and I could feel a fight brewing. I didn’t want that and I knew she didn’t need it. She’d had more than enough stress for one day. So I squeezed her hand—a mistake on my part, because it made me want to kiss her—I pulled over in front of her house.
“I’ll run down my hunches,” I told her. “You keep your head down, okay? Change up your routine, don’t come home at the same time every day. If you’re not sure about something, trust your gut. If you think you’re in danger, call me. If you know you’re in danger, call the cops.”
“I thought the cops were the bad guys,” she said teasingly.
I grinned. “You’re rich and connected. You’re who the cops work for, sweetheart. Plus, I’m sure not even they want to get on the wrong side of your father’s wrath.”
Arlena sat tight for almost a minute, as though it took everything in her to pull herself out of my car. I knew the feeling. There was a part of me that didn’t fucking want her to leave. Things were different between us now, but the feelings in my chest, they still seemed to want to hang onto that time when things weren’t different. When finally, she flashed me that nervous smile of hers and took hold of the car handle, I felt relief and loss bundled into one. She almost leaned in for a kiss before she left and there was a part of me, a small but prominent part that kinda hated that fact that she didn’t. Damn it, Blayze, get it together. She’s persona non grata and you know it. Still, I watched her curves walk away and waited for that smile over her shoulder as she went inside. Thinking that she was the villain in my brother’s life had put a block on my feelings for her. Now that I was more or less satisfied of her innocence, that block was rapidly dissolving.
But I was back with Sam, and Sam had a history of claiming ownership violently and without warning. Arlena was already in danger. I couldn’t add to that, and certainly not for my own selfish reasons. Besides, no matter what urges Arlena felt when she was vulnerable, she was halfway intelligent. Any woman with two spare brain cells to rub together wouldn’t get into it with me, not after what I’d put her through. There was only one thing left for me to do.