by Ella Frank
That’s if I survived until then.
Mom pulled the car to a stop by the curb and turned to me. “I’ll be back in an hour.”
No shit, I thought as I pushed open the car door.
“Addison?”
Without answering, I waited for her to continue.
“Don’t say anything you’ll regret later.”
Knowing exactly what she was referring to, I licked my lip that was slowly healing but still obvious to anyone looking at me.
“So now it’s okay to lie?” I asked. “Make up your fucking mind.”
Before she had a chance to reprimand me, I climbed out and slammed the door shut. I walked up the pebbled path to the side of Doc’s house where he had a private office and turned to watch her drive away. For a moment, I wished she’d never come back.
I tried to shake off the thought and knocked on Doc’s door. When he opened it, I couldn’t help but laugh. His crazy hair was all over the place, and I had to admit that other than Grayson, this man was the only other positive force in my life. He was the one person I truly trusted and relied on.
“Addy, it’s so good to see you.”
Still laughing, I stepped through the door and made my way over to the comfy couch by the window. “Really?”
“Always. You know that.”
I sat down and looked around his cozy office.
Doc had certificates hanging all over the walls, and photos of his wife and three daughters adorned his huge desk. As always, he made his way over to the chair across from me and sat down.
“Isn’t that kind of an insult? If I’m here to see you, it means I’m crazy. Doesn’t it?”
“Do you feel crazy?”
“Not lately.”
Doc’s eyes creased at the sides and the lines around them made me think he laughed a lot. This man was happy—truly happy.
“What do you feel lately?”
“Are you happy?” I asked out of the blue, curious to know if I was right.
Doc thought about it for a moment and then grinned. “Yes. I can honestly say that I am happy. Are you?”
My answer was easy. “No.”
I couldn’t remember the last time I was happy. I’m not sure that anyone cared enough to ask—except Doc, and he was being paid.
“Then how do you feel?”
I contemplated my answer before I spoke. How do you tell the man your parents have employed to fix you that what makes you happy and content is something that’s crumbling apart in front of you?
“Trapped,” I finally replied.
“Hmm.”
I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “I hate that response.”
“Why? It’s neither positive nor negative.”
“It’s indifferent. I hate that.”
“Well, what would you like me to say? You said you felt trapped. You already know my next question.”
I began to twirl my hair around my finger, a habit I’d started while sitting here under Doc’s close scrutiny.
“You’re going to ask me why.”
“Exactly.”
Seeing no other way out, I sighed. “I got suspended for five days.”
Doc brought his pen to his mouth and chewed on the cap. A habit of his, I’d discovered.
“I know.”
“How do you know?”
“Your mother called and told me. She also mentioned you were late getting home that day.”
“What else did she say?”
“She said you lied about where you’d been.”
I let go of my hair and clasped my hands in my lap.
“Well, she’s not wrong.”
“So…” Doc paused, and I knew what was next. “Do you want to tell me where you went?”
I really wanted to, but I couldn’t. So I didn’t say a thing.
“Okay, I’ll take that as a no.”
Doc knows what my silence means. I’d been coming to him long enough that he knew now was not the time to push.
“Will you talk to me about how you got that split lip?”
My eyes connected with his, and I could hear my mom’s voice in my mind, threatening me.
“Again, I’ll take your silence as a no. Some other time, perhaps?”
Feeling agitated, I stood and walked over to the photos on his desk, picking up a silver frame of his wife and daughters.
They were sitting along the trunk of a fallen tree with their arms interlocked at the elbows. Each of them was laughing, and their eyes were lit up with pure happiness. I envied the ease they shared with one another and the love that was directed at the person taking the photo.
Her husband, their father—their rock.
I’d had that once, during the blind acceptance of youth, until one shattering moment ripped it all away to reveal it was nothing but veiled innocence. It was a lie created to make me feel safe because my rock wasn’t something I could hang onto—but something that inflicted pain.
Grayson also had photos, ones he’d taken himself. However, they were of places, not people, and now that his father was gone, I had a feeling he was as lonely as I was.
“I don’t know what to say.”
Doc seemed to process that before recommending, “Let’s start with the basics.”
“Okay.”
“You said you’re feeling trapped. Can you tell me what being trapped feels like or means to you? That’s not hard, right?”
“I guess.”
But the more I thought about it, I realized I wasn’t the one who was trapped. He was.
I trapped him. Didn’t I?
“Addy, what are you thinking? Tell me.”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t lie to me, Addison,” Doc stressed. “You can evade the question, you can choose not to answer, but don’t lie. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me the truth.”
I leaned back against the desk and whispered, “Someone I know is in trouble, and I feel like I can’t do anything to help. So I feel trapped.”
“Trouble how? At school? With their parents?”
I almost laughed at the ridiculousness of this conversation. It wasn’t as if I could tell him who or what I was talking about, but maybe…no.
“In life.”
I stopped and pleaded with my eyes not to push any further.
“Okay. They’re in trouble with life.”
“Yes. This person is going through some issues and I want to help, but no matter what I do, it isn’t going to be right. I can’t talk to anyone. All I want to do is reach out and make them feel like they make me feel…”
“And how’s that, Addy? How do they make you feel?”
I struggled to find the right word and settled on the one that I’d felt when I looked at Doc’s photo. “Safe.”
Doc took a moment and brought the pen down from his mouth, before asking, “Well, has this person ever hurt you?”
“No!” I’m adamant in my denial.
“Does this person make you do things you don’t want to?”
I shook my head and could feel the furrow between my brows.
No, Grayson never pushed himself on me, but I couldn’t say the same in return.
“Then I don’t see the problem. In fact, I would go so far as to say whoever it is has changed you in a positive way. I’ve noticed it myself.”
I tried to ignore the rapid pounding in my chest as my heart beat overtime.
“What do you mean?”
“Sit down, would you?”
Without questioning him, I did as I was told.
“Ever since the beginning of school, you’ve been less despondent and much more responsive. You’ve been social, engaged, and you haven’t even noticed today that I took the clock off my wall. These are all clear indications to me that your behavior has changed.”
I agreed with him but still. “That doesn’t answer my question. How do I help them?”
Doc shrugged. “Maybe the thing that is bothering you and making you feel trapped is that you can�
��t.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Past…
Six days.
It had been six days since I’d last seen Addison. I thought it would leave me feeling more centered, less off-balance, but I all I could think of was her.
I’d taken Friday off to go back to the facility my father had stayed in and finalize his estate. Then I’d had the dreadful task of arranging a funeral for one.
I still couldn’t quite wrap my mind around the fact that he was gone—forever.
Helene had been the first to offer her condolences Monday morning, but while she’d been talking to me and extending her sympathy, I’d been picturing Addison. I’d memorized the way she’d looked as she knelt beside me with my camera in her hands, trying to see behind the walls I’d kept up around her.
Addison Lancaster. Ingénue or Siren?
The first time I heard her name, I knew I was in trouble.
Last Thursday when she’d shown up at my house, all pretense of what was going on between us had fallen away. The excitement and lust that originally drew me to her had been replaced with emotions I was scrambling to get ahold of. Complex emotions were threatening to overwhelm me, but somewhere amongst the disorder, there was some part of it that made sense. She was the only thing that had brought me comfort in my darkest of days.
I walked into my classroom, and stopped by my desk, and immediately I knew she was there. My eyes searched out the seat that had sat vacant since Monday, and there she was, polished as ever.
Her lip had fully healed, and her hair was curled to perfection. Her blue eyes found mine, and I knew right away that something was different.
She resembled the girl I’d first met only weeks ago, except this time, her eyes weren’t full of mischief or rebellion—they were flat and dispassionate.
“Good Morning, Addison,” I managed, my voice sounding strained, even to me.
“Good morning, Mr. McKendrick.”
Trying to get a read on her, I walked around to the front of my desk and leaned back against it.
“You’re early.”
“Am I?” she asked, but if anyone knew where they were at all times, it was Addison.
“Did you need to see me about something?” I prodded.
This version of her was terrifying in that I had absolutely no idea what she was thinking.
“Yes. Am I required to hand in the paper from last Friday?”
Is she serious?
Sitting right in front of me was a stranger. The girl who’d teased and provoked with the tilt of her lips and batting of her eyelashes was gone—just when I’d been coming to accept her.
“The Anne Boleyn paper? No. There’s no catch up in my class for suspended students.”
She shook her head as if disappointed. I wondered if she expected different treatment. But then I kicked my own ass because of course she did. I’d had her under me, naked and spread open as I lost myself inside her. Was a little leniency out of the question?
Not for her, but for Brandon, who also was unable to make up the credits, it would be completely unfair. She had to know that.
Pushing off my desk, I walked down between the tables and chairs until I came to a stop in front of her. As she tipped her face up to me, I had the urge to bend down and take her lips with mine.
Selfless didn’t describe me or my prior actions, but now, right this second, I didn’t care about the consequences I might suffer. I only cared about her.
“If I could give you the time to make it up, I would.”
She placed her hands on top of the desk, interlocking her fingers. “It doesn’t matter anyway.”
Crouching down until I was eye level with her, I held onto the edge of the wood to prevent myself from reaching out and touching her. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she replied. Her tone conveyed she was anything but. “Are you?”
“I’m feeling more myself today.”
“Yourself, huh? As opposed to drinking a bottle of scotch and—”
“Yes,” I cut her off, not needing a recap of my transgressions. “As opposed to that.”
“Hmm.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I couldn’t help but ask.
Before she had a chance to answer, the classroom door slammed open, jolting me back to reality.
I stood and turned to see Brandon making his way into the room, leading Jessica by the hand. They looked to where I was standing, and Jessica flashed me a smile. Her gaze then dropped to Addison and it disappeared—no love lost there.
“Good morning, Brandon, Jessica. Please go ahead and take a seat.”
I strolled as calmly as I could back to the front of the room, trying not to reveal anything I didn’t want known.
“Sure, Mr. M,” Brandon agreed a little too readily.
I watched him walk to the seat beside Addison and then he glanced back over his shoulder at me. The move was confrontational, and when I sat down behind my desk, I realized he was sizing me up. But why?
As the other students began filing into the room, I reminded myself that Brandon knew nothing—there was no way he could. He was probably still pissed off from being suspended last week. As the final bell chimed, I watched him turn to Addison.
She didn’t spare him a passing glance but merely sat silently as she had been a few minutes earlier.
But then he looked back to me.
His eyes were inquisitive. His stare, suspicious.
Right then I realized there were much more dangerous things in my life than Addison.
* * *
Present…
Doc told me to meet him out in the courtyard today.
Apparently, he has finally had it with his tiny office, not that I can blame him. Compared to the one at his home, this one must be a real drag.
“Ahh, isn’t it beautiful today?”
I look behind me to see Doc making his way along the path surrounding the small fountain. He has one hand up to shade his eyes and the other is swinging a yellow envelope by his leg.
I scoot over on the bench and wait for him to sit. He takes the spot I’ve vacated and then bumps our shoulders together. “I said, isn’t it beautiful today?”
I give a look that screams, really?
“Don’t give me that look.”
Feeling my lips twitch, I can’t help from asking, “What look?”
Then in his best “girl” voice, Doc mimics who I can only assume is one of his daughters, “Seriously?”
Laughing out loud, I admit, “It really is a beautiful day.”
“See?”
“So, what does it matter? I’m still in here.”
My insolent response doesn’t seem to faze Doc in the slightest. Instead, he shrugs.
“Technically you’re out here, but that’s neither here nor there. The point is, today we have a different result.”
“As opposed to?”
“The last time we were out here. You cried that day, do you remember?”
I think back several days and remember standing here with Doc. The memory is clear. The sun was the same, but he was right—today I noticed it was a beautiful day, today…
“Today you smiled.”
* * *
Past…
History class went by fast enough, and as soon as the bell rang, I leaped to my feet to leave. I had a meeting today with Miss Shrieve at ten, and I didn’t want to be late. I also didn’t want to give Grayson a chance to ends things before I was ready.
After my session on Monday with Doc, I understood what needed to happen, it was just harder than I imagined. A few simple words and this would all be over. Life would return to normal—wouldn’t it?
And what was normal? Life before him? That didn’t sound like the ending I wanted either, but what other choice was there? Doc was making me realize I was not helping Grayson the way he helped me.
Wanting someone and needing them was entirely different than being good for them—and it was more than clear, that I
was not that for him.
“Oh, Addison, come in.”
Why my skin prickled at Miss Shrieve’s invitation I couldn’t have guessed, but the way she examined me as I stepped into her office and took a seat made me uncomfortable.
She held up her index finger and gave me a tight smile. “One second. Let me shut the door.”
I placed my bag on my lap and clutched it tightly as I waited for her to make her way back around and take a seat. Again, her eyes shifted over me.
“How are you today?”
That was the question of the day, apparently.
“I’m fine.”
“Are you?”
I nodded and tried to be more convincing. “Yes. I’m fine.”
Even though the one person who shouldn’t be running through my mind, is.
“I spoke with your mother the day you were suspended and released early to go home.”
Why are we rehashing this? I knew it all already and so did she, so what was the—
“Your mother mentioned you came home last Wednesday with the bruised lip.”
I remain silent, wondering exactly what she was getting at. That was when she dropped her bomb.
“I know that Jessica didn’t strike your face on Wednesday in the parking lot. So, who did that to you?”
I wondered exactly who she thought did it. If she’d seen that Jessica hadn’t slapped me, just how long did she stand there? Had she seen me talking to Grayson?
“It’s okay, you know. You can tell me.”
I thought about that and then, for first time in days, I heard the—tick, tick, tock—of her clock. That was when I asked with a little more malice than I expected, “And why would I do that?”
She didn’t flinch, not even to blink, as she spoke in a tone that was clear and invited no deviation. “I’m your teacher. I’m here to help you, to guide you. I’m someone you can trust implicitly.”
I didn’t trust her—not at all.
“Are we done?”
She sat back in her chair and silently nodded, indicating that yes, for now we were done. I stood, and just as I got to the door, she called out my name. With a palm on the handle I looked back.
“Perhaps you should talk to Mr. McKendrick. It seems like you trust him.”
