A Proscriptive Relationship

by Jordan Lynde

  Mr. Heywood scowled at Casey. “I like you better in class.”

  “Holly likes you all the time.”

  “Casey!” I cried, staring at her incredulously.

  Jeremy burst out laughing, clapping Casey on the back. “That was a good one!” Even Lance grinned widely.

  “Guys,” Mr. Heywood started, looking stern, but sounding amused. “Let’s keep on topic, shall we?”

  Jeremy nodded. “Okay. I have the news on right now, and I’ll have it on all day, too. You guys all make sure to watch it every time you get the chance.”

  “Why?” Casey, Lance, and I chorused.

  “To see if Shawn was caught,” Jeremy said, as if stating the obvious. “Holly, when you and Shawn were alone last night, what happened?”

  I lowered my gaze to the floor. “Nothing much . . . Shawn fell through the stairs.”

  Jeremy raised an eyebrow. “What?”

  “I led him upstairs, and he fell through one of them,” I explained. “That’s how I escaped from him.”

  “And how exactly did you lose your pants?”

  “That’s . . . um . . .” Reflecting upon the moment, it seemed like a pretty stupid lucky break. My face reddened. How could I tell them I had to take off my pants to make him fall?

  “Holly?”

  I turned to Mr. Heywood, who was giving me an unusually concerned look. “What?”

  “Did Shawn . . . do anything to you?”

  I cocked my head to the side for a moment. Did Shawn do anything to me? It took me a moment to realize what he meant. I quickly waved my hands in front of my face. “No, no, no! I just had to take off my pants to make him fall.”

  Jeremy snorted. “Bribery?”

  I glared at him. “No!”

  “I was joking,” Jeremy responded with a laugh.

  “You have a bruise on your forehead,” Mr. Heywood interjected, shooting a dirty look at Jeremy. “How did that happen?”

  “Um,” I hesitated, thinking back. “It could have been when I tripped over your leg, or when Shawn threw his gun at me—”

  “Shawn threw his gun at you?” Lance interrupted. “Shawn had a gun?”

  Casey nodded. “He shot Jeremy with it.”

  Lance whipped around to stare at Jeremy, a confused expression on his face. “But you don’t—”

  “Bulletproof vest,” Jeremy told Lance with a grin. “Bet you wish you’d had one of those the other night.”

  Lance scowled at Jeremy. “Shut up.”

  “Holly, why did Shawn throw the gun at you?” Casey asked curiously, turning to me. “If I was him, I would have just shot you.”

  “Casey!”

  She shrugged, grinning sheepishly. “What? You put yourself in his shoes. Isn’t that what you’d do?”

  I nodded my head begrudgingly. “Yeah, I guess I would. And he did try to shoot me . . . But I got lucky. Again. He ran out of bullets or something.”

  Jeremy laughed again. “That’s just his luck.”

  “So was Shawn, like, immobile when you left him?” Lance asked.

  “Yep.”

  “There’s a good chance that the police caught him then.”

  “Yeah.”

  Lance crossed his arms. “Okay. But just in case, I’m canceling my cell phone. I thought I’d eventually get it back, but I didn’t realize Shawn had it.” He narrowed his eyes accusingly at me.

  I stared back at him in surprise. “What? Lance, no! You can’t cancel it! That’s the only means of communication I have with Shawn!”

  “Which is why you need to get rid of it,” Mr. Heywood interjected, giving me a stern look. “The less interaction you have with Shawn, the better.”

  “But Mr. Heywood! What if something like last night happens again? Shawn won’t be able to reach me—”

  Mr. Heywood cut me off. “Which is a good thing.”

  “Not if you, Jeremy, Casey, or Lance are in danger!” I protested. “What if he texts from Lance’s phone with a threat, and I don’t receive it, and one of you gets hurt?”

  Mr. Heywood stayed silent, and I quickly looked around the room. Lance, Casey, and Jeremy were all giving me sober looks. Mr. Heywood put his hand on my shoulder. “Holly, none of us are going to have contact with Shawn. That way we’re all safe.”

  I wanted to protest, but I kept my mouth shut. They didn’t understand what I was trying to say. Wouldn’t it be better to get some kind of a warning rather than having something happen out of the blue? Like when Lance got shot?

  Jeremy sighed, putting his head on the back of the couch. “Holly, you worry too much.”

  “Sorry I care,” I snapped, feeling upset.

  Jeremy shook his head. “Chances are Shawn’s in jail now, so it doesn’t matter. Holly, I know you’re thinking it’s safer to have a warning from Shawn, but what if he lies? What if he said, for example, he has Lance and he wants you to go to him otherwise he’ll hurt Lance, when he really doesn’t have Lance and it’s a big set-up?”

  I stared at Jeremy in confusion. “Can you repeat that?”

  “Like in Harry Potter,” Casey interjected, looking excited. “When Vold—”

  “He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!” Jeremy hissed, looking around in mock horror.

  Casey rolled her eyes. “When He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named tells Harry he has Sirius and Harry goes to save Sirius it turns out Vold—”

  “He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named,” Mr. Heywood joked, grinning as Jeremy clapped his hands over his ears.

  I had the urge to laugh, but instead I just grinned. “Yeah, Casey. The Dark Lord’s name must not be spoken.”

  “Voldemort,” Casey said emphatically, before anyone could interrupt her again, “never had Sirius . . . and we both know how that ended.”

  My grin dropped. “Oh.”

  There was an awkward silence in the room now. Lance cleared his throat quietly, and Jeremy started whistling the Harry Potter theme song. Mr. Heywood eventually joined in, and so did Casey.

  “Fine,” I finally grumbled, rolling my eyes at their antics. “Lance, cancel your cell phone.”

  “I’m doing that right after we’re done here,” he told me, nodding his head.

  “So if Shawn actually is caught . . . Does that mean this whole gang problem is over and done with?” Casey asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

  I blanked at her question. That was exactly what it meant. There would be no more danger, or threats, or being paranoid. I glanced at Jeremy, who had the same expression I had on. He blinked at me, opening his mouth and saying nothing. Lance was starting to grin. I turned to Mr. Heywood, expecting to see a relieved expression, but instead he had a hard look.

  “That’s exactly what it means,” Mr. Heywood told Casey, setting his jaw. “Let’s hope that’s what happened.”

  I cocked my head. “What are you . . .?”

  “There’s always the chance Shawn got away,” Mr. Heywood told me, confirming my thoughts.

  I shook my head. “No way! He couldn’t move and the cops came not even five minutes later.”

  Jeremy pursed his lips. “The chances are slim, but there’s still the slight possibility.”

  “Which is why we keep an eye on the news and the newspaper,” Lance threw in.”

  “Sounds easy enough,” Casey said, shrugging. “I don’t usually watch TV, but once in a while is okay.”

  “We shouldn’t all watch the same channel,” Mr. Heywood commented, glancing at his TV. “Lance, why don’t you go to your house and watch channel ten? Jeremy, you go watch channel three, and Casey you watch channel five. I’ve got it on channel six.”

  Jeremy, Casey, and Lance nodded, oblivious to the fact that Mr. Heywood didn’t assign me a channel. But I noticed. Before I could ask Mr. Heywood anything, Jeremy spoke.

  “So we should do that right away,” he said, pushing himself off the couch. “Casey, give me your phone number.”

  Casey gave Jeremy a questioning look. “Why?”

  “I need your number to contact yo
u if I find something, and vice versa. I’ll give you Chris’s too,” Jeremy explained. “Lance, do you have a house phone?”

  “I’ll pick up a new cell phone after I cancel my old one,” Lance responded, looking grumpy. “Waste of my money . . .”

  “He has a house phone,” I told Jeremy, shaking my head at Lance—didn’t he know they’d replace his phone for free? “I’ll text you the number, Jeremy.”

  Jeremy nodded. “Alright, then we are all in contact.”

  “Yep,” the rest of us chorused.

  “Then let’s go,” Jeremy ordered, clapping his hands. He turned to me. “Holly, want a ride home with me?”

  I gave him a wary look. “You drive like a maniac.”

  “I’m not that bad,” he protested, grinning.

  “I live like, two doors down from her,” Lance told Jeremy. “I’ve got her.”

  Jeremy looked disappointed. “Fine.”

  I laughed. “Sorry, Jeremy, maybe next time.”

  Jeremy shrugged, heading towards the door. “I’ll talk to you guys later,” he called, waving over his shoulder.

  “You ready?” Lance asked, looking at Casey, and then me.

  “Yep,” Casey responded.

  I glanced at Mr. Heywood, and blinked in surprise when I found him staring intensely at me. “Um . . .”

  He smirked. “Lance, I have to talk to Holly for a bit. You and Casey go ahead, and I’ll bring Holly home after.”

  Lance frowned. “Why can’t you talk to her in front of us?”

  Casey rolled her eyes, shoving Lance’s shoulder, and steering him towards the door. “Shut up, Lance. Let’s go.”

  “But—”

  “No buts,” Casey said firmly, sending me a secret smile. She winked. “Have fun, you two.”

  I blushed, ducking my head. If it wasn’t Jeremy, it was Casey. “Bye Lance, bye Case.”

  “I still think—” Lance started, but Casey kicked him.

  “Keep walking,” she ordered.

  I grinned after them. Then the fact that Mr. Heywood and I were all alone hit me, and I held my breath. This was the first time we were alone since the other night. A blush tried to make its way to my face, but I forced it away. There was nothing to be embarrassed about. But that wasn’t even a fraction of my feelings.

  I quickly smacked my hands to my cheeks. I had to stop thinking. Mr. Heywood was giving me a funny look when I turned to him. “Bug,” I lied with a tiny smile. “So, what’d you want to talk about?”

  Mr. Heywood’s expression suddenly turned solemn and I felt my heart drop. Immediately my palms became sweaty, and I forced myself to stay calm. He hadn’t even said a word yet. There was nothing to be nervous about.

  “Holly, before I start talking I want you to consider everything I say, okay?” Mr. Heywood started, giving me a serious look. “No matter how you feel about it.”

  “O-okay,” I said quietly. What did he want to talk about?

  “There’s two things I want to talk about,” Mr. Heywood told me, as if reading my thoughts. “One of them, you won’t like. The second, we need to think carefully through.”

  I bit my lip. “Alright . . .”

  “So do you want the bad or the good first?” Mr. Heywood asked with a wry grin.

  I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It was better to get the worse over and done with. “Bad.”

  LESSON forty

  Mr. Heywood handed me a cup of tea. “Here. I guess I ran out of coffee.”

  “I want sugar,” I demanded, looking at the cup of tea.

  Mr. Heywood gave me a flat look. “You know where it is, go get it yourself.”

  I pursed my lips at him. “But—”

  “While you’re at it, get me a spoon.”

  Pushing myself off the couch, I trudged to the kitchen. Mr. Heywood was obviously stalling. He’s the one who wanted to talk to me. Why was he making me suffer by delaying the talk? I felt sick because of how much I wanted to know what the “bad” was. The sugar was right above the silverware drawer so I quickly grabbed it and the spoon before returning to the living room.

  “Here,” I told Mr. Heywood, standing above him, holding out the spoon.

  He reached up to grab the spoon, but instead of grabbing it he grabbed my wrist and pulled me down next to him.

  “You can sit closer, I won’t bite,” he told me, amusement in his voice.

  I blushed, causing him to chuckle. “Mr. Heywood—”

  “Chris.”

  “Chris,” I corrected myself. “What do you want to talk about?”

  He lost his grin. “Straight to the point, huh?”

  “I feel like our roles are reversed,” I commented, smiling slightly. “Usually I’m the one beating around the bush.”

  “It’s about what happens if Shawn actually did get away,” Mr. Heywood admitted.

  I raised an eyebrow. “Why aren’t we talking about this in front of everyone else? Shouldn’t they know?”

  “Because this is about something they don’t know about,” Mr. Heywood told me. “Well, Jeremy might know, but I wanted Jeremy out of my house.”

  “Something they don’t know?”

  Mr. Heywood nodded. “Yep.”

  I frowned at him, thinking deeply. What was something Jeremy might know, I knew, and Lance and Casey didn’t know? Nothing came to mind right away. “I don’t know,” I finally said.

  “If Shawn did escape,” Mr. Heywood started slowly, as if choosing his words carefully. “We’re going to go to the police and telling them everything.”

  It took a second for his words to register in my mind. When they did, I gasped, my eyes growing wide. I started to shake my head. “No, Mr. Heywood. No.”

  “Holly—”

  “If we tell them won’t you go back to jail?”

  Mr. Heywood stayed silent for a moment. “There’s a chance,” he admitted quietly.

  “Then don’t—”

  “Holly, if we tell them what’s going on, they will find Shawn and he will go to jail,” Mr. Heywood interrupted, giving me a stern look. “If Shawn goes to jail, this is all over.”

  “But at the expense of you going to jail as well!” I protested. “That’s not fair!”

  “It is fair, Holly,” Mr. Heywood responded. “I was told if I got involved with the gang again, I was going back to jail. I did get involved, and what’s worse, I got three teenagers involved as well.”

  “I’m an adult,” I stated stubbornly.

  “Technically you’re still a teenager,” Mr. Heywood said softly. “And I’m responsible for getting you involved.”

  I shook my head. “We aren’t telling the police.”

  “Holly.”

  “We can’t!”

  “Holly, you promised me you’d at least consider it,” Mr. Heywood reminded me.

  “There’s nothing to consider!”

  Mr. Heywood gave me a flat look. “Yes, there is. Your safety. Jeremy’s safety. Casey’s safety. Lance’s safety.”

  “Your safety,” I commented quietly, lowering my gaze.

  Mr. Heywood nodded. “I’m not as worried about that, but yes.”

  “I still don’t want you going to jail,” I stated stubbornly.

  “You’re being selfish.”

  “Can’t I be selfish?” I cried, turning to look at him. “After all I’ve been through, can’t I be a little selfish?”

  “Yes, you could, if it wasn’t you being selfish for me,” Mr. Heywood answered, his eyes piercing into mine. “Think about everyone, not just me.”

  I bit my tongue. What was I doing? Putting my friends safety in jeopardy so Mr. Heywood wouldn’t go to jail? I didn’t want anyone to get hurt anymore, but I didn’t want Mr. Heywood going to jail either. How could I choose? There was no way I could!

  “It’s not fair,” I finally said, clenching my fists.

  “Holly—”

  Tears sprung to my eyes. Mr. Heywood was right. I knew he was right. If it really came down to it
, I’d know what I’d choose.

  Mr. Heywood sighed, taking my hand into his. “I know it’s a hard decision for you to make too.”

  I sniffed, grasping his hand tightly. “How can I send the man I love to jail?”

  “Holly . . .”

  I lifted my head up to see Mr. Heywood giving me a soft look. More tears filled my vision and without any hesitation I shifted so I could hug him. He sighed quietly again as I squeezed him hard, doing my best not to cry.

  “Holly,” Mr. Heywood repeated, putting his arms around me. “This is only if Shawn’s still out there. It’s only a slight possibility.”

  “I know that,” I told him, burying my face in his shoulder. “But I love you, Mr. Heywood—Chris. I don’t want you in jail.”

  Mr. Heywood gently pushed me away from him. I pulled back, staring at him in confusion. His face was only a few inches away from mine. “I love you too,” he told me, brushing a stray piece of my hair out of my face. “So please, don’t cry over me. Hopefully it won’t come to this.”

  Mr. Heywood moved his head closer to me, sending my heart racing. Within seconds, our lips met. I closed my eyes, enjoying the soft touch of his lips, and the taste of the tea he had been drinking earlier. Once again, his lips were slightly chapped. After a moment, he suddenly froze. Confused, I pulled away from him. He was staring at the TV screen, looking astonished. My heart jumped into my chest as I quickly turned around to look at the TV. The news was on.

  “No way,” Mr. Heywood stated, pushing away from the couch to walk over to the television. He dropped to his knees in front of it, putting a hand on the side. “Holy shit.”

  There was Shawn.

  Handcuffed.

  With the police.

  Running across the bottom of the screen were words I couldn’t focus enough to be able to read. My heart was pounding in my chest, watching as the police led Shawn towards the local jail.

  “Suspected for attempted murder?” Mr. Heywood muttered. “They must have found the same fingerprints on Shawn’s gun as on the one that recovered after Lance was shot.”

  We were both unable to tear our eyes away from the screen. A quiet laugh escaped my lips, and then a louder one. Mr. Heywood finally took his eyes of the television, glancing at me quickly. I began to laugh harder, crossing my arms over my stomach. Mr. Heywood raised an eyebrow.