A Proscriptive Relationship

by Jordan Lynde

  “There’s the blush I love,” he commented quietly. “That’s much better than the tears. Much more fitting, Holly.”

  I blushed darker, making him chuckle again.

  “As much as I love hearing your sappy talk,” Jeremy joked, “we’re almost at the hospital. Holly, would you mind telling Chris what he’s going to tell the doctors?”

  I glared at Jeremy, who was smirking. He would make me tell Mr. Heywood that. “You, um . . . were in your shed and you slipped, and fell on a shovel,” I muttered, unable to look Mr. Heywood in the eye.

  “What?”

  “You were in your shed—”

  “I heard what you said,” he snapped, irritation dripping in his voice. “Whose stupid idea was that?”

  Jeremy whistled from the front. “Not mine.”

  “Yes it was,” Casey and I said together.

  Mr. Heywood groaned. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Isn’t there something else?”

  Jeremy glanced at Mr. Heywood through the rearview mirror. “Can you think of anything? Or do you want to go with, ‘oh, I got hit over the head by a shovel while I wasn’t looking and I got knocked out for a few hours. Then I was punched in the same place’?”

  Mr. Heywood scowled. “Shawn . . . That bastard. He used such a dirty trick.”

  “Mr. Heywood, you should just go with the shed story,” Casey interjected. “I think I speak for us all when I say we just want to make this as simple as possible.”

  “Fine,” he responded grumpily.

  Just then a police car whizzed by us, its light flashing and siren wailing as it headed toward the scene we were fleeing. Casey and I exchanged startled glances. Jeremy tightened his grip on the steering wheel and stared straight ahead. Seconds later another cop car flashed by.

  “Hopefully Shawn is still there,” I murmured, turning my head to look out the back. “This should put an end to everything . . .”

  We arrived at the hospital in no time. Jeremy drove straight up to the entrance, shutting off the car and hopping out. He went around to the back and helped Mr. Heywood out of the car. I climbed out too, going to help Casey. Jeremy nudged me in the shoulder before I could start walking towards the building

  “Holly,” I heard Mr. Heywood start, anger in his voice. “Where are your pants?”

  I blushed heavily, feeling self-conscious. It had slipped my mind that I wasn’t wearing pants or shoes. “I’ll explain later.” I really didn’t want to tell him what happened right now.

  “Holly, tell me.”

  “Later, it’s nothing bad,” I assured him. “For now, let’s just go in the hospital.”

  “Give me Casey, you take Chris,” Jeremy suddenly ordered, making me look at him in surprise.

  “But—”

  Jeremy shook his head. “No protesting.” With that, he forced Mr. Heywood to put an arm around me, and unlatched Casey’s arm from me, putting an arm around her waist to support her.

  I struggled under Mr. Heywood’s weight. “Mr. Heywood, could you support yourself a little more?”

  “Holly, go over there,” Mr. Heywood ordered, pointing to the corner of the building. “Around the corner.”

  I turned my head slightly to look at him. “What? Why? We need to get you in right now—”

  He sighed. “Holly, just go. Now.”

  I scowled, but obeyed Mr. Heywood, shooting a look at Jeremy. He raised an eyebrow, watching as I staggered off to the edge of the building. Mr. Heywood slowly took on more of his own weight, still keeping a tight grasp on me. He ordered me to go around the corner. I did as he said.

  “Are you okay?”

  I looked at Mr. Heywood in surprise. He forced me to drag him all the way over here so he could ask me if I was okay? “I’m fine . . .”

  “I’m sorry, Holly,” Mr. Heywood apologized suddenly, raising his right hand to my face, cupping my cheek. “This will be the last time.”

  “Last time for what—”

  Mr. Heywood suddenly leaned in closer to me, and I could smell his cologne as I inhaled sharply from his sudden proximity. A hint of a smirk played at his lips before he pressed them against mine softly. For a moment I was frozen in shock, my eyes wide, my heart stopping. Then he cupped my neck with his free hand, and I let myself relax into the kiss, my heart jump-starting again and my eyes closing. His lips were slightly chapped, but surprisingly soft as they moved against mine. Shoving my embarrassment to the side, I brought my arms around him and pulled myself closer, my head feeling light. All too soon he pulled away, staring at me for a moment. Our gazes locked, and I blushed under the intensity of his smoldering eyes.

  My mind was blank. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t form a coherent thought. Mr. Heywood kissed me—and not for blackmail, or because he was fever-dreaming. I opened my mouth to speak, but he shook his head, bringing his lips to mine again, this time a little bit harder. There was an acrid taste to his kiss, but I ignored it for the time being, bringing my hand up to his head to run it through his hair. Suddenly he pulled away, hissing in pain, dropping his hands away from my face.

  I abruptly stepped away from him, my heart pounding from the kiss. “Are . . .are you okay?”

  He pressed a hand to his forehead. “I’m okay.” His eyes slid out of focus for a minute and he winced.

  “We should bring you in now,” I said, looking at him in concern. “You’re looking pale . . .”

  He stared at me for a moment, his lips pursed. “I’m not done.”

  I blushed, knowing what he meant. “Mr. Heywood, um . . . I just—you need medical attention.”

  “You don’t want me to kiss you again?”

  “No, I do!” I said quickly. “B-but you need . . . and you’re still bleeding and you—”

  He chuckled, putting a hand to my lips again. “You’re so cute when you’re flustered.” Then he leaned forward again, and for a second I thought he was going to kiss me again, but instead he nodded, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Okay, let’s go back.”

  I nodded, letting him wrap an arm around me again. That was the last time I would ever refuse to kiss him.

  As I took the first step back to the hospital entrance I froze, my heart jumping into overdrive as my brain finally registered his earlier words.

  This will be the last time.

  “Mr. Heywood . . .”

  “Hmm?”

  I clutched him tightly. “You’re not going to . . . leave, are you?” I whispered.

  His eyes widened in surprise. “What?”

  “You said that would be the last time,” I pointed out, feeling anxious.

  He stared at me for a moment, before sighing. “Holly—”

  I shook my head. “No! Mr. Heywood! I’ve said before I don’t care how dangerous it is! I know I’m being selfish, but . . .”

  He put a hand to my lips. “I’m being selfish, Holly.”

  I gave him a questioning look.

  “I didn’t mean that would be the last time I’d kiss you,” he told me, amusement shining in his eyes for a moment. “I meant that would be that last time I’d kiss you without your permission.”

  Relief washed over me immediately and I started laughing. He removed his hand from my mouth.

  “Holly, I know I probably shouldn’t say this, but even though you’re in danger by being with me, I don’t want you to stay away,” he admitted. “It’s selfish, but it’s how I feel. I’ve always been a selfish man, anyway.”

  We walked the few more steps around to the front of the hospital where Casey and Jeremy were waiting patiently.

  “I wouldn’t stay away even if you forced me,” I assured him quietly. “Trust me.”

  He chuckled. “Alright.”

  Jeremy wagged his eyebrows at me as we grew closer. I did my best to keep my face composed.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” I demanded when we were close enough.

  He smirked. “What went on back there?”

  “We had a quic
k chat,” I lied, feeling my face heat up. Luckily it was dark, so I didn’t think he noticed.

  “Uh-huh,” Jeremy commented. “Sure . . .”

  “Never mind,” I said quickly. “Let’s just get Mr. Heywood and Casey checked out.”

  “Um, Holly?” Casey started, sounding like she was going to laugh.

  “What?”

  “I don’t think you should go into the hospital,” she told me. “You’re in your underwear, remember?”

  For the billionth time that night, I felt my face flushing. Jeremy started laughing, looking down at my boxer-clad bottom half.

  “Stop staring!” I cried, crossing my legs. “Jeremy! You pervert!”

  Jeremy continued laughing, but did look away. “Holly, you should probably wait in the car. I can handle Chris and Casey.”

  Begrudgingly, I handed Mr. Heywood off to Jeremy. “Fine,” I grumbled. “Give me your car keys.”

  Jeremy dug out his car keys and tossed them to me. “Don’t go anywhere.”

  “I won’t,” I promised him. “I just don’t want to freeze.”

  Jeremy ran his eyes to my legs again, smirking. “Well, maybe if you kept your pants on—”

  “Ow!” Jeremy cried as Mr. Heywood slammed his fist into Jeremy’s shoulder.

  “Bring me in the damn hospital,” he muttered. “My head is killing me.”

  “Yes, your highness,” Jeremy responded. “See you soon, Holly.”

  “Bye,” I responded flatly.

  Jeremy feigned a hurt look.

  “Stay safe,” Mr. Heywood said, his eyes piercing into mine.

  I nodded, swallowing nervously. “I hope everything goes okay with your head.”

  “Nothing’s ever okay with his head,” Jeremy commented in a singsong voice.

  Mr. Heywood slammed him in the shoulder again. “Shut up and move.”

  LESSON thirty-nine

  When I woke up, I felt overheated. I stretched, yawning widely. My eyes shot open went I touched something—or someone—warm. I sat up quickly, looking around at my surroundings. I was definitely not at home. There was a lump next to me, a person sleeping under the covers.

  My mind was racing. What happened last night? After Mr. Heywood, Jeremy, and Casey had disappeared into the hospital I had gone back to Jeremy’s car . . . and then what? I couldn’t remember. When had I fallen asleep? I looked around the room again and realized with a jolt where I was. Mr. Heywood’s house. So that meant . . .

  Gripping the comforter tightly, I whipped it off the person next to me. When I noticed it was Jeremy, not Mr. Heywood, I shrieked, moving away from him. His eyes shot open, and he bolted up.

  “Where’s the fire?” he shouted, his messy blond hair everywhere, covering parts of his face.

  “There is no fire!” I cried, grabbing a pillow and pulling it to my chest. “What are you doing in the same bed as me?”

  Jeremy looked at me in confusion for a few seconds. “Holly?”

  “That’s me,” I snapped, feeling my face heat up. “What are you doing in my bed?”

  “Actually,” a new voice commented, “I do believe that’s my bed.”

  My head snapped in the direction of the doorway, where Mr. Heywood was standing. He had large, white bandages wrapped around the top of his head, and a deep blue bruise under his left eye. He raised an eyebrow at me, taking a sip from the coffee cup in his hand.

  “What . . .?” I trailed off, unsure of what I was about to ask.

  Jeremy bounded out of Mr. Heywood’s bed, hopping to his feet. “Morning!”

  Mr. Heywood gave Jeremy a hard look. “It’s afternoon.”

  I climbed out of the bed as well, detangling myself from the sheets. Mr. Heywood smirked at me as I did so. I was about to ask him what he thought was so amusing when I looked down and saw I was still in boxers from the night before. Flushing in embarrassment I quickly yanked the sheet off his bed and wrapped it around me.

  “Casey and Lance are coming with clothing for you soon,” Mr. Heywood informed me.

  “Casey and Lance?”

  Mr. Heywood nodded. “We have a lot of explaining to do with Casey. And you and I have a few other things to discuss.”

  “Like what?” I asked, narrowing my eyes in confusion. “What do you mean?”

  Mr. Heywood ignored my question. “Want some breakfast?”

  My stomach rumbled as if on cue, and I blushed again, causing Mr. Heywood and Jeremy to chuckle.

  “It’s almost ready,” Mr. Heywood informed me.

  “Then can I take a quick shower?”

  He nodded. “Sure. You can grab some clothing out of my dresser if you want,” he informed me. “That way you won’t have to change back into dirty clothes.”

  “Aw, you two share clothes?” Jeremy teased, grinning. “That’s cute.”

  Mr. Heywood jammed his elbow into Jeremy’s side. “Shut up. Go check on the bacon.”

  Jeremy grumbled, but left the room. Mr. Heywood stayed in the doorway, taking another sip from his mug.

  “Um, what happened last night?” I asked.

  Another amused smile appeared on his face. “Well, it was around four in the morning when they finished fixing me up, and you were asleep in the car when we finally made it out, so we didn’t wake you up. We took Casey home, but Jeremy called your mother and told her you were staying here for the night.”

  I had to remember to thank Jeremy for calling my mom. I didn’t want her having a heart attack because I was missing. “Okay . . . So why was I in the same bed as Jeremy?”

  Mr. Heywood scowled. “I don’t know. He was supposed to be sleeping on the couch.”

  “Oh, so he snuck in,” I commented, rolling my eyes. “That’s just like him. Where’d you sleep?”

  “Couch in the living room,” he told me grumpily. “I have to be careful not to let my head bump into anything.”

  “What did the doctor say?”

  Mr. Heywood shrugged. “I just needed some stitches. No big deal. I’ve had worse. Want to take a shower now?”

  I nodded my head quickly. “Yeah.” Warm, relaxing water was just what I needed right now.

  Twenty minutes later I heard a knock on the bathroom door. A frown appeared on my face, thinking it was Mr. Heywood telling me it was time to get out. When I heard a different voice I blinked in surprise.

  “Holly? I’ve got your clothes,” Lance yelled through the door. “I’m coming in.”

  “What? Lance stay out!” I cried, pulling the shower curtain more securely across the rod.

  Lance ignored my demands and I heard the door open. I heard him cough. “Muggy enough in here?”

  “I like my showers hot,” I responded simply, staying as far away from the curtain as possible. “Get out.”

  “Is Holly done in the shower now? I have to go to the bathroom,” a new voice asked, and I heard another pair of feet in my bathroom.

  “Nope.”

  “Oh,” Jeremy responded. “Holly, do you mind if I just go—”

  I held the shower curtain tight to the wall and wrenched the top part open, sticking only my head out to glower at the boys by the sink. “Yes, I mind. You two, out. Now.”

  “What are you guys doing in here?”

  My eyes went past Jeremy and Lance to the door, where Casey and Mr. Heywood were now standing. Casey looked like she was about to start laughing while Mr. Heywood’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and then he glared at Jeremy. Jeremy held up his hands.

  “I didn’t know she was in here, dude.”

  “Get out!” Mr. Heywood and I ordered at the same time.

  Jeremy winced. “Oh, double-teamed. I’m going, I’m going,” he said, holding up his hands. “Come on, Lance.”

  Lance shrugged, placing my clothing on the sink counter. “Sure.”

  Mr. Heywood locked gazes with me for a moment. “Make sure to lock the door when you take a shower in the future,” he suggested before closing the door.

  I blushed, pulling my head b
ack under the spray of hot water. Did that mean he planned on me taking more showers here? The thought brought a smile to my face. I turned off the shower and slipped out, drying and dressing myself quickly. I paused only to swipe at the mirror and check my face over. I saw a bruise on the right side of my forehead and raised my hand to put pressure on it gently. I winced, then sighed and made my way to the living room.

  Lance was in the recliner, Jeremy and Casey on the couch, and Mr. Heywood on the other couch. Mr. Heywood gestured for me to take a seat next to him. After a moment of hesitation I went to the couch and took a seat, sitting as far from Mr. Heywood as possible. With Casey, Jeremy, and Lance here, it was sure to be awkward enough.

  “So,” Jeremy said, clapping his hands together. “To save us more trouble today, I’ve just explained to Casey everything about our little gang problem.”

  I stared at Jeremy in horror, but Casey grinned from her seat next to him.

  “I’m so sorry Casey!” I apologized quickly. “I know it was mean to hide in from you, and I feel really guilty for lying and I totally understand if you don’t want to be best friends anymore.”

  “I don’t blame you for hiding this from me,” Casey told me slowly. “It’s not really a big deal.”

  “Oh,” I responded, feeling my face heat up. “I . . . I see . . .”

  Mr. Heywood snickered and I glared at him. He held up his hand, turning his snicker into a cough.

  “My head injury causes me to cough,” he told me.

  “Sure it does.”

  “Casey, we kept it a secret so you wouldn’t get hurt,” Lance told her. “Which didn’t really work, but still.”

  Casey laughed. “Guys, chill. It’s fine. I understand. I would have never guessed you guys would be involved with a gang though. Or that my biology teacher was an ex-gangster.”

  Mr. Heywood shrugged. “That means I’m good at keeping it a secret.”

  “Except for the part where Holly found out,” Casey responded. “Way to keep your secrecy there.”

  “That wasn’t my fault.”

  “But it still happened.”