Collide Series Box Set

by J. C. Hannigan

  "Nothing," I said, trying to brush off the conversation. It was definitely not one I wanted to have at five in the morning.

  "Harlow, please," Iain begged, angling his face so that our eyes met. "I need to know what's on your mind. I need to know if you're….regretting us."

  "I'm not regretting us!" I was shocked that he'd jump to that conclusion.

  "Then tell me what it is, because I'm not getting good vibes from you lately. You're on edge, and you're closed off. You don't seem happy." Iain sounded vulnerable and hurt. It was my turn to startle. I hadn't realized I'd been so easy to read.

  "It's just…" I hesitated, wanting to find the correct words. Iain watched me patiently. I got the impression that I could take a lifetime and he'd still be quietly waiting for me. Patiently. I sighed. "I'm never going to be the girl that you can just bring home."

  "And why not?" Iain asked, surprise crossing his features.

  "Because Iain, I'm barely eighteen. You were my teacher when we met, when we…got together, even if you aren't teaching any of my classes next semester. How do we tell that story to your family over dinner? How do we explain ourselves to anyone?"

  Iain opened and closed his mouth as he thought about what I'd said and how best he could argue it.

  "You love me," I said, gently placing my index finger over his lips to silence him. "I know that. And I love you, more than anything. But every time I think about the future, I get scared." My confession hit a sore spot within Iain. I saw pain reflect in his eyes. It was fleeting, but it was there.

  "Don't be scared," he whispered, stroking my cheek to soothe me. "All that matters is if you want the future. Do you want the future, Harlow? With me?"

  I nodded, about to tell him how stupid he was for asking me such a thing, but he continued talking. "Then that's the important bit. The rest of it is just technicalities. I know that my family is very embracing and understanding. My younger brother? He's gay. It doesn't matter to any of us. You love who you love."

  "You love who you love," I repeated, a real smile lifting the corners of my lips for the first time in a while. I'd been mulling over the bleakness of our situation for too long, moping about it, when really, so many people out there faced similar issues. So many people were "not supposed" to love who they loved.

  "You love who you love," Iain said again, firmly this time. He took my face in his hands and passionately kissed me. "And I love you, Harlow Jones. We'll figure the rest out when the time comes."

  I smiled against his lips, pulling him back on the bed against me.

  * * *

  "Mom? Is there anything I can help you with?" I asked, hesitating by the doorway. She was in the kitchen, preparing dinner. Larry was in the living room, watching some sports show on his new flat screen TV with glee. His hooted excitement over goals and the "clarity" of the TV was amusing to listen to.

  "Yeah, sure honey…if you'd like to peel those carrots?" Mom gestured to the sink where a pile of carrots was waiting, freshly washed. I walked over, picking one up and grabbing a peeler. I set to work, stealing glances at her from out of the corner of my eye.

  Since getting home the week before, I'd thought a lot about the conversation Iain and I had in the hotel room in Ottawa. You love who you love. That sentence kept ringing out in my head, over and over again. Since returning home, I had wanted desperately to talk to Mom about Iain again. She was still pretending that he didn't exist. Pursing her lips whenever I said I would be home late, but unable to keep me on lock down. She knew that every time I said I was headed over to Jenna's, I wasn't always headed over there, although I did visit with her quite a bit. At first, I'd wanted to gauge out if she'd seen anything in Ottawa. She hadn't seemed like it though, and after we hung out a few times, I was able to relax a little. But we definitely didn't have sleepovers, like I told Mom and Larry. I think Mom knew that, though, but she couldn't call it into question with Larry around, and with her sheer determination to deny it was happening.

  I kind of expected her to rat me out, but she hadn't yet. My curiosity as to why was overwhelming. I figured it was probably because she didn't want to deal with the fallout, and she also didn't want to betray me. We were on shaky ground.

  I wanted to blurt it all out then and there, but knew that tactic likely wouldn't work with her. So I decided to go for the full-disclosure route.

  "So Jenna heard back from that agency," I said, rolling my neck to work out the kinks as I picked up another carrot.

  "Oh?" Mom asked, her voice piquing with interest.

  "Yeah, I think she's picked a family," I answered. "Or at least narrowed it down to a few."

  "How does she feel about it?" Mom inquired, sounding generally concerned with Jenna's feelings, and I'm sure she was. She checked the temperature of the turkey and had her back to me.

  "Sad,” I said. “Overwhelmed, but relieved. She still thinks it's the best route for her and the baby."

  "What do you think?" Mom's question caught me off guard.

  "Well, I don't know." I shrugged. "It makes sense to me." Mom nodded in agreement, and put the turkey back in the oven. "Jenna also told me they picked a trial date…February twenty-fourth."

  "So soon?" Mom asked, surprise on her face as she turned around to look at me. "I thought it'd be another couple of months."

  "I guess things are coming together quickly." I shrugged again. "I know that Jake is willing to testify, and Thompson's gotten in touch with a few of Andrew's…other victims. There's a lot of evidence, and I think they are even going to bring Carl Cooper's role to light, exposing him for obstruction of justice."

  "It'll be here, though?" Mom asked, leaning backwards against the counter.

  "Yeah, Thompson will travel here," I answered, wiping the back of my hand across my eyes to push some stray hairs that had fallen from my sloppy bun. I was nearly done peeling the carrots. Mom started on the salad, humming quietly to herself.

  "Mom…I was wondering something?" I asked, timidly peeling another carrot while watching her. I saw her back stiffen.

  "Oh? What's that?" She was forcefully working to keep her tone joyful and even as she tossed the salad, mixing in the dressing.

  "Do you support gay marriage?" I asked. My random question threw me off guard, and she turned to look at me.

  "Yes…" She gave me a peculiar look, wary of where I was going with it.

  "So…if I were a lesbian…that wouldn't bother you?" I raised an eyebrow, waiting for her response.

  She stole a look to the living room, then looked back at me. "What are you getting at, Harlow? Are you a lesbian now?" she asked, scoffing at the notion.

  I stared at her, keeping my expression serious. "If I were a lesbian, and I loved another girl, would that bother you?"

  "I would still love you," Mom replied, exasperated. Impatience showed in her eyes.

  "So why is my relationship with Iain so hard to handle?" I asked lowly, keeping my eyes on hers. She wavered a bit, but tensed her jaw.

  "Because, Harlow," she whispered, glancing back to the living room again. Then she walked toward me, stopping when she was less than a foot away. "It jeopardizes your credibility as a student. It pulls into question your grades, and both of your morals."

  "Mom." I rolled my eyes. "I've always gotten good grades. Do you mean to tell me I've slept with every teacher I've ever had?"

  "No, of course not," Mom said, her voice desperate. "But what I think doesn't matter. It's what the school board would think if this ever went public. You're still technically a minor. It's sick of a teacher to pursue a student."

  "But I consent, regardless of my age."

  "Age matters, for you, right now. The age you are…that matters," Mom hissed, gently but firmly grasping my upper arms with her hands. She didn't look angry, just desperate.

  "I want to protect you," she added, her voice gentler but still pleading. "I know how this will play out. Haven't you followed any news coverage of student-teacher relationships? They always end bad
ly. The teacher usually gets charged and thrown in jail, and if the student isn't victimized, their academic records are called into question."

  It was my turn to waver, ever so slightly. "We love each other…"

  "That may be." Mom's voice was as stiff as her posture. "But there are laws against this kind of thing, Harlow! I could press charges against him. You are a minor and you are my daughter."

  "You wouldn't," I said confidently, although I really wasn't sure. "You wouldn't because you know I'm in love with him, and that he makes me happier than I've ever been. You haven't told Larry because of it."

  Mom opened her mouth, but was silenced by Larry walking into the kitchen. "Tell Larry what?" he asked, looking curiously at the two of us. Mom's hands dropped to her sides and she quickly smiled at Larry.

  "Oh, nothing, dear," she said. "Just girl talk."

  Larry shrugged, unconcerned, and attempted to sneak some food from the dishes on the counter. Mom swatted him away and shoved him back toward the living room with a genuine smile on her face as she told him that dinner would be ready soon.

  "This conversation is over for now, Harlow. I mean that," Mom whispered.

  * * *

  Shortly after Christmas dinner, when the dishes were cleaned and Larry was passed out in his recliner in front of his new TV, I slipped out into the front hall to get my jacket and boots on. What I really wanted was to continue the conversation with Mom, but I didn't know what else I could say about it. She had her points (valid ones at that) and I had mine as well. I didn't want to face the fact that maybe, there was a grain of truth to her words.

  "When will you be home?" Mom whispered, coming into the foyer as I finished lacing up my boots. I thought about Lauren, briefly. She was the one who used to call them my shit-kicker boots. A wave of sadness rose in my chest, but I shoved it down. Now was not the time to think about Lauren. It was surreal, how she'd well up in the most random of times.

  "Dunno," I replied honestly, scooping up my overnight bag. I'd packed a few gifts for Iain and some overnight clothes. "I'm doing a Christmas…thing…with…I'll be home tomorrow."

  "Harlow." Mom glanced to the floor, avoiding my gaze. "I do want you to be happy."

  "I know, Mom." I sighed, also avoiding her eyes. "He…makes me happy."

  "I can see that," Mom remarked, her voice sounding defeated. I stole a glance at her, and she did look defeated. Bone tired and weary.

  "You love who you love," I said, borrowing the line that was now permanently etched in my mind. I opened the door, giving her one more look over my shoulder before I closed it. I couldn't make out her expression, but that didn't matter. I knew she wouldn't tell on us.

  It was snowing heavily, the big snowflakes that fall from the sky and bring magic to Christmas. Iain was parked on the next street over, waiting for me. I climbed into the passenger seat, leaning over to kiss him hello.

  "Merry Christmas," I whispered, smiling.

  "Merry Christmas to you too." Iain grinned. He started driving toward his place, asking me about my day. I filled him in on bits and pieces of it, but left out the conversation with my mom. I was trying to ignore how certain things she'd said hit home for me, since it felt like Iain and I were constantly hashing out those "technicalities," as he called them. I wanted our first Christmas together to be special.

  And it was, Iain made sure of it. We exchanged gifts in front of a burning fireplace. Iain had bought me a dainty necklace with a heart and key, a leather bound journal and ink pens. I bought him the entire boxed set of Dexter, a show he was obsessed with, although I felt insecure in my choice. His gifts were so personal, so me. Nevertheless, Iain was so excited about it that I couldn't help but allow him to talk me into watching nearly the entire first season in twenty-four hours while we cuddled on his couch.

  I returned home for a few days, awkwardly spending it with Mom and Larry when I wasn't working, and spent the New Year at Iain's house. We sipped champagne in his bed, and welcomed the New Year with intimacy and tangled limbs.

  * * *

  My birthday fell on the fourth of January, the last weekend before the new semester started, and I spent the entire weekend with Iain.

  "Where are we going?" I asked yet again, watching as he tossed some clothes into his overnight bag. Mine was already packed. Iain shrugged, a quiet smile on his handsome face.

  "That's a secret," he said alluringly.

  The secret ended up being a cozy cabin even more north than we already were. He took me skiing for the first time ever, and laughed with delight every time I fell on my ass. By the end of the weekend, I was sorer than I'd ever imagined possible, but also incredibly happy. I was still riding on those feelings of euphoria when we returned for the new school year. Jenna was waiting for me by the cafeteria doors. She was wearing a baggy cardigan and had angled her bag to cover her stomach. She wasn't noticeable as she was still quite tiny, but it was almost getting to the point that you'd be able to tell. I knew she was extremely insecure about it.

  "What's got you all happy? Did Ben spoil you this weekend?" Jenna asked, a hint of a mischievous grin on her face. She glanced around, trying to see if anyone was staring at her.

  "That he did." I smiled. We started walking upstairs toward our first period class: art.

  "Where did he take you?" Jenna asked, brushing back a strand of her blond hair and sliding in behind me to avoid a cluster of giggling girls.

  "A cabin up North. We went skiing," I replied. We entered our classroom and found seats near the back. "It was my first time. He taught me how to stay on my feet…kind of."

  "That's so romantic." Jenna sighed, leaning back in her chair beside me and looking away dreamily. "I wish I had that."

  "Looks like you did already," scoffed a familiar voice. Jenna and I both looked with surprise at the speaker. It was Callie, and she was leering at Jenna's belly pointedly. Tara giggled beside her, and they dramatically tossed their hair over their shoulders and found seats further away from us, but still in view. They immediately started whispering and giggling, glancing over toward us with malice.

  "Ignore them. They're bitches," I told Jenna gently, leaning in toward her. She was breathing heavily, panicking almost. She'd moved her bag over her stomach, and was ghostly pale.

  "Oh hey, didn't know you guys had this class," Jake said, sliding into the seat beside Jenna. He paused for a moment. "Is…everything okay?"

  "Everything is fine," I told him, glancing over at Callie and Tara and sending them a glare. "She's just not feeling good."

  "Yeah, the first day back makes me feel ill too," Jake joked, looking at Jenna with concern. He started talking to her, distracting her away from her panic. Slowly, she calmed down, and was even starting to laugh when the final bell rang. I observed them with a quiet smile on my face, impressed with Jake's skill at easing Jenna's panic. It was effortless for him.

  Our art teacher was a kooky lady named Ms. Higgins. She had wild red hair and big square purple glasses. She handed out sketchbooks and kits and told us to draw whatever we wanted for our first day back. She disappeared in the supply room for a bit, leaving the class to their own devices. Conversations erupted around us, people chatting about their holidays while they doodled. Apparently, Riley had another party over the holidays. I overheard a lot of people talking about how hilarious that had been. But two sets of voices rang out over all the others.

  "I couldn't believe it either; obviously someone just wants attention," Callie was saying haughtily, tossing a glance over to our direction.

  "Still, that's a really dick move," Tara was saying. "So she just up and charged Andrew?"

  "Yeah," Callie tittered, turning to look at her friend. "Andrew said they hooked up at a party, but that he didn't really want to. She wouldn't stop coming on to him after he told her that he wanted to get back with me. Now she's saying he sexually assaulted her because he doesn't want to be with her. Such a whore."

  "I heard that—"

  "Oh yeah, but it
's not his," Callie cut Tara off quickly, shushing her with a glare. "Andrew always uses protection."

  "Of course you'd know," Tara giggled. "So what, you guys are back together now?"

  "Well…kind of." Callie smirked. "I'm making him work for it."

  "You go girl!" Tara cheered.

  Their conversation was making me feel ill. I stole a glance at Jenna, and it looked like she heard everything too. I closed my sketchbook, shoving it into my book bag.

  "Come on," I told her. "Let's go." Jenna numbly shoved hers into her bag and stood up with me.

  "Skipping class? I'm in too," Jake decided, grabbing his things and following us.

  "I hear morning sickness is a drag," Callie drawled, pouting as we walked by their table.

  Jake gently steered both Jenna and I out into the hall before I could walk over and punch Callie's smug expression off her face. I had been tempted, and had he not taken action I probably would have.

  Jenna was ghostly white and shaking. "I can't be here anymore."

  "Do you want me to take you home?" Jake offered.

  "I drove…"

  "I don't think you're in any condition to drive," Jake pointed out.

  "What's that supposed to mean?" Jenna snapped, glaring at him.

  "I just mean…you're upset, and you shouldn't drive." Jake raised his hands in surrender. "I mean no harm."

  "Sorry," Jenna said. I stood nearby, watching the exchange with a peculiar look on my face. The gentle kindness and sincerity on Jake's face was very sweet.

  "Let Jake take you home," I told her. "I'll drive your car back, then he can take me back to school."

  Jenna looked back between Jake and me, then toward the classroom and sighed. "Fine. I just want to get out of here."

  She offered her keys up to me and I took them. The three of us started walking toward the parking lot doors. I saw Iain exiting a classroom and I froze temporarily, caught off guard by the sight of him in the school, dressed in his pressed pants and blazer.

  "Shouldn't you three be in class?" he asked, his voice full of authority. Memories of the weekend we'd just had flooded my mind and I flushed, almost feeling his lips on my neck. Jenna was looking back from Iain to me, curiosity on her face.