Collide Series Box Set

by J. C. Hannigan

  "They moved her to a different room with Sarah," Jenna explained, catching me looking around. "I couldn't…"

  "I understand, no need to explain," I quickly said, sweeping in to sit down in the chair beside her hospital bed. I pulled out the panzerottis from my purse. "I had to sneak these in, you know. Hospitals don't like it when their patients eat delicious, greasy foods."

  Jenna laughed, gleefully accepting the panzerotti. "I'm so tired of the cardboard food, and I haven't even been here for a full twenty-four hours yet."

  "That's also understandable," I assured her, grinning before I took a bite of mine. It was still hot and fresh. I wiped the greasy sauce away from the corner of my mouth.

  "How was school?"

  "Boring, stupid, lame, and did I mention boring?" I answered, taking another bite.

  "Did anyone…" Jenna trailed off, sighing.

  "No, nobody knows you had her," I said, feeling a little uneasy. Jenna bit her lip, tears welling in her eyes.

  "I didn't know it would be this hard," she whispered, wiping a tear furiously away. "I can't even look…and I feel bad, because it's not her fault…"

  "You chose what looks like a fantastic mother for her," I assured Jenna, leaning forward and gently holding her hand. "She will have all the love in the world; that's all she'll know."

  Jenna nodded, taking a huge shaky breath. She looked exhausted.

  I stayed for another twenty minutes before Jenna started to fall asleep while sitting up. I left her room with the promise to visit again. I walked down the hallway to the elevator.

  The doors were just about to close when a hand reached out to stop them. "Sorry," a familiar voice that instantly sent an electrical shock through my body said. Iain slid in, looking just as shocked as I did. "Harlow," he whispered, surprised to see me.

  I stood there, staring at him with my mouth agape. "What are you doing here?"

  "Visiting," Iain answered, cocking his head slightly and smiling wistfully as the elevator lurched downward.

  "Who?"

  "My sister." Iain laughed. "Sarah. She…well, I guess she just had a baby…adopted…"

  "Wait," I interrupted. "Sarah, the birth mother that Jenna picked is Sarah your sister?"

  "Yeah." Iain smiled.

  "But…Jenna would have told me." I frowned. This wasn't exactly something that a good friend would keep from another good friend. Oh, by the way, my baby's adopted parents are related to the love of your life who just happens to be your teacher. Hope that's cool!

  "She didn't know—doesn't know," Iain replied, stepping toward me so that his breath washed over me in a warm wave. "My brother-in-law's last name is Fetcher. Sarah has his last name now."

  "Oh," I whispered. "I guess you're the family she's staying with right now." Iain nodded, stepping closer to me. It was as if he couldn't help himself. The elevator came to a stop with his face inches away from mine. The doors opened and we jumped apart, our trance interrupted once we reached the main floor.

  With heavy legs, I left the elevator, walking toward the parking lot. I could both sense and hear Iain several paces behind me. We hadn't been this close in months, but I still kept my distance, remembering his words about cooling it.

  I walked quickly toward my car, Iain almost keeping pace but not quite.

  "I miss you, Harlow," he said, his voice low.

  "Iain." I glanced around helplessly. I couldn't tell if anyone was paying attention nearby, but it was still light out. I feared getting caught.

  "I know," he assured me, reaching out to touch my cheek briefly. "I'm heading back to Ottawa next week."

  "Why next week?" I demanded.

  "I found a new job at a public school there. I need to get out of this town…besides, Mrs. Rush wanted to come back early. Guess her husband lost his job." Iain smiled.

  "Guess I'll see you in Ottawa…maybe," I said, smiling as I opened the door and slid into my car.

  "I've got no doubt about that," Iain commented, giving me a hungry look.

  The next morning, I awoke later than I had intended. I had been unable to fall asleep; my mind just wouldn't shut off. I kept thinking about what Iain said about leaving next week. While the thought of being farther away from him pained me, I couldn't help but feel a thrill when I thought about the fact that he'd no longer be a teacher at my school.

  I rushed about, trying to make it to school before the bell rang. I made it to my first period art class with five minutes to spare. As usual, Ms. Higgins was nowhere in sight. I headed to sit beside Jake at our table, ignoring the sniggering and smirking from Callie and Tara.

  "Hey," Jake said, an odd expression on his face.

  "What's up?" I demanded, sensing something was amiss. Everyone was staring at me, talking behind hands.

  "You…" Jake started, clearing his throat and looking around uncomfortably. "You didn't see what was plastered all over the school Facebook group?"

  "We have a school Facebook group?" I asked, dumbfounded. My first thought was that someone had heard about Jenna's birth.

  In answer, Jake pulled his phone out of his pocket and pulled up the school Facebook group. Wordlessly, he handed me his phone. I grabbed it, my breath freezing in my chest as I scrolled down, staring at picture after picture of myself with Iain. Two were even taken last night in the parking lot of the hospital. Whoever had taken the photos from last night managed to capture both the hungry look Iain gave me and the touch of his hand on my cheek.

  "People are saying…" Jake trailed off, searching for words.

  "So that's how you got all those A's in Mr. Bentley's class," Callie tittered from across the room, giving me a scandalous once over before she turned back to Tara. "I knew she wasn't smart. She just screwed the teachers to pass."

  "You stupid bitch," I hissed, jumping up out of my chair. It flung back behind me, tipping upside down with a clatter. My classmates fell silent, staring at me with wide eyes.

  "Harlow Jones," a stern voice said from the classroom doorway. I looked up, my fists trembling. Ms. Higgins had reappeared, this time with the principal, Mr. Osborne. It was Mr. Osborne who spoke, demanding authority and attention. He was a stern-looking man in his early sixties. In the last several months, I hadn't had any run-ins with him personally but I heard a lot about what a dick he was from Jake. Naturally, the school pot dealer and the principal didn't get along. "I need you to come with me now. Grab your things."

  I picked up my bag, my heart pounding and my face red with embarrassment, and followed Mr. Osborne to his office. Two policemen stood waiting.

  "Harlow Jones?" the first one said. I didn't recognize him, but the other officer with him was familiar. I'd run into Mike Turner again. Hope fluttered in my chest. Surely it was a good sign that one of Iain's friends was on the case?

  "Yes," I said, trying to keep my voice even and neutral.

  "I'm Officer Hudson and this is Officer Turner. We are here to talk to you about some serious allegations that are being made about a teacher at this school having an inappropriate relationship with a student," he said. He had red hair shaved tight to his head and freckles dotting his nose. He didn't look like the policeman type.

  I said nothing. I didn't know what was safe to say and what wasn't. I just stared at Officer Turner, willing him to give me some sort of sign that he'd take care of everything. He didn't. He avoided my gaze, staring instead at the desk beside me, his jaw tense.

  "We'd like for you to come down to the station and answer some questions," Officer Hudson said after a moment of awkward silence.

  "I want to call someone."

  "You're not in trouble, Harlow," Mr. Osborne told me. "We want to help you."

  "I don't need help," I blurted out. "Everything is fine." Even as I said it, the tears threatened to spill from my eyes. I was terrified for Iain, terrified about what we had done. I loved him, and I didn't want him to get into trouble. Everything certainly was not fine.

  "Let's just go to the station," Officer Turner s
aid stiffly. "You can call whoever you need when we get there."

  I opened and closed my mouth. It seemed like I had no choice but to accompany them to the police station. I followed them out of the school, thankful that class was in session. As it was, the few students that were roaming the halls stopped to stare openly as I walked by, being led by two police officers. Officer Hudson had his hand on my arm, gently yet firmly leading me, while Officer Turner stayed silent and stony faced. I was losing hope in the situation with every passing minute.

  In the back of the police cruiser, I had time to reflect upon the situation I now found myself in. It was undeniable that Iain was arrested, or would be shortly. I wasn't clear on the details yet, but I knew that if I was being called in to the station to give a statement, that things weren't good.

  "This way, please," Officer Hudson said gently, leading me down the pale yellow hallway to an interrogation room. He held the door open and I walked in, noting the room was void of everything but a table, four chairs, and a two-way mirror. Fear clenched its fist around my heart.

  "I want a lawyer," I demanded, crossing my arms and refusing to walk forward at all. "I refuse to give a statement until I have a lawyer present."

  Officer Hudson and Officer Turner exchanged a look with one another. Officer Turner sighed, nodding his head once. "Okay, we'll call one. Have a seat for now."

  Walking into the room, my legs shaking, I sat heavily in one of the plastic chairs. The officers closed the door behind me, leaving me in the interrogation room.

  I knew I wasn't in trouble, that my request for a lawyer seemed odd. I didn't want my statement to get Iain into any more trouble. I didn't want to confirm anything that would incriminate him.

  I sat in the chilly interrogation room for nearly fifteen minutes. A quick knock came at the door before it swung open. Officer Turner walked in alone, holding a file in one hand and a can of Coca Cola in another. He tossed the file down, sitting across from me, and set the coke down in front of my hand. I stared at it, not making a move to touch it. He stared at me for a solid five minutes before I grew uncomfortable.

  "Where is Iain?" I asked, my voice trembling.

  Officer Turner tipped his head slightly. "He's in another interrogation room," he answered.

  "Why?"

  "I'll cut to the chase, Harlow," Officer Turner sighed, leaning forward. "Iain is facing charges of sexual exploitation."

  "But it wasn't…" I trailed off, clamping my mouth shut when I realized I'd nearly confirmed the allegations. "I want to see a lawyer," I insisted again. I was beginning to feel like a broken record. My voice was scratchy, dry and itchy.

  "The lawyer is on the way," Officer Turner said. "Did you want us to call your parents?"

  "I figured you would have already," I retorted, surprise flashing across my face.

  "You're eighteen," Officer Turner reminded me. I snorted.

  "Then no, I don't want to call my parents." I rolled my eyes. The last thing I needed was Mom and Larry blowing in here. Mom with her tears of guilt and Larry…I froze, realizing that Larry was a Catholic School Board member.

  "He already knows," Officer Turner said, nodding once, as if he knew where my thoughts had taken me. "The school board has been notified of the charges, naturally."

  "He's your friend," I shot back.

  Officer Turner looked taken aback, surprised that I knew that information, and even more angry about it. "I'll be back when the lawyer gets here," was all he said in response. He stood up, leaving the room with quick steps. I stared down at the can of Coke. Condensation had formed. I was desperately thirsty, but I didn't want to drink anything that the police provided me. I couldn't help but feel as if they were the bad guys.

  Nearly two hours later, I left the police station. My mom opened the passenger door to her car, and I slid in wordlessly. She'd picked me up when I called her, my voice oddly calm and my eyes dry. The lawyer they had called sat with me while Officer Hudson and Officer Turner asked me questions. She was a tall, willowy brunette with her hair pulled back into a tight bun. She looked every bit a lawyer.

  She'd told me my best bet was to explain that Iain and I had been friends. After all, there was no proof of a physical relationship.

  I didn't know if my statement would help or hinder Iain, and I couldn't draw my thoughts away from anything else.

  "Larry is at home," Mom warned, pulling into our driveway. I'd been silent the whole ride. I didn't say anything in response. I just unbuckled my seat belt and went inside meekly.

  Larry was waiting in the sitting room, tapping his foot furiously on the floor. He stood up when the door opened, making his way to the foyer. The look of anger on his face shocked me, and I took an involuntary step back, bumping into my mom.

  "When I found out this morning that one of the teachers in my high school was having an inappropriate relationship with a student, I was livid," Larry started, his voice full of controlled anger. He paced into the kitchen, unable to remain still. "When I found out that the student was my daughter, I was enraged."

  "Step-daughter," I corrected automatically. Larry sent a look that silenced me.

  "Then when your mother told me that you were willingly having a relationship with this teacher, I came very close to snapping," Larry continued, putting the counter between us. He placed his wide palms on the top of the marble slab counter, his face red with anger. I kept my mouth shut, unable to speak. "How could you have been so stupid and naïve, Harlow?" he bellowed, spit flying from his mouth.

  "Larry," Mom warned, stepping forward and reaching her arm out to me.

  "And you," Larry turned to look at my mom, his face full of hurt. "I can't believe you knew about it and didn't tell me when it was happening so we could stop it."

  "It ended," Mom argued, her brows creasing in anger. She put her hand on my shoulder, as a show of support.

  "Regardless." Larry waved his hand, as if that detail was miniature and unimportant, and I suppose it was.

  I opened and closed my mouth a few times, willing the words that sat on the tip of my tongue to spill out—we love each other, we're in love—but they didn't. They remained frozen in my mouth. I realized how naïve that sounded; how foolish.

  Larry looked at us one last time then he sighed heavily. "Now I have a huge mess to clean up. I'll be home late," he added. He came back around the island, grabbing his coat and keys. Neither Mom nor I turned around to watch him go.

  In the week after Iain's arrest, the newspapers blew up with reports of the charges laid against a local Catholic High School teacher. They all painted Iain in a sick light, as if he was a predator who needed to be locked up.

  Worse were the allegations being made by other students. The newspapers didn't release the names of the supposed victims, but said that several female students had come forward, saying that Mr. Bentley had "made sexual advances on them." The moment I read that, I ran for the bathroom to vomit. I couldn't believe it. I felt a tiny seed of insecurity, but in my heart of hearts, I knew it wasn't true. Our relationship hadn't been the sick, Lifetime drama that the newspapers and the town painted it. I spent the week after the arrest hiding out at home. I refused to go out, especially after my ten-second attempt at school the day after. I couldn't handle the gossip from my classmates or the looks of pity I attracted from every single person over the age of thirty.

  Despite the fact that the newspapers hadn't released my name, my photo was still all over the Internet. Larry was desperately working to get it removed, so it wouldn't taint my future academic career. I would have a week of testing to prove that my grades were earned by my intelligence and not by Iain's bias. It was both insulting and ridiculous, but I had no choice but to go through with it so that my acceptance at all the universities I applied at would still stand.

  "It's not true," I spat out to Larry over a very strained dinner one evening. Mom had attempted at bringing us back to a normalized state, but I couldn't handle the stony silence from Larry. The trial ha
d already started; the school board had gotten a very good lawyer and were proceeding in pressing charges against Iain for sexual exploitation and inappropriate behavior toward minors, and the story about more alleged victims had appeared in that morning's paper. "There are no victims. Iain and I are in love."

  Larry looked as if he was having a hard time swallowing the forkful he'd put in his month. His eyes narrowed, staring at me while he took a sip of his water to clear his throat.

  "I don't want to hear about it," he warned me, waving the fork at me. His face started to flush with anger. "Not another word about this, Harlow, and I mean it."

  Mom gave me a pleading look, willing me to hush. I knew she was desperate for a night of normal, but I couldn't stomach it. I stood up, pushing my chair back angrily. I glared at them before I walked toward the front hall. I pulled my boots on, grabbing my car keys and jacket and fleeing out of the house before either of them could stop me. I didn't know where I was going, but I had to get out of the house.

  I drove to the lake. At the beginning of May, nobody was really there. It wasn't warm enough to hang out at the beach at night. Not yet anyway. I put the car in park and started to cry, my head buried in my arms on the steering wheel.

  At first, I had thought that Iain would somehow contact me, maybe through his lawyer or something. I thought he would have me speak at the trial about how we were in love, but I hadn't heard a thing from him or his lawyer. I wasn't involved in the trial; I couldn't even watch the proceedings. The court room was closed to the public.

  I knew from reading the newspapers that there were only a couple more days left in the trial. The jury was supposed to reach a decision by the following Thursday. I also knew that the Catholic school board wanted to have this "ugly scandal" dealt with as quickly as possible, so the town could forget about it.

  My phone rang, breaking me from my sob fest. I grabbed it, looking at the screen before clicking answer.

  "What?" I demanded harshly, hiccupping.

  "Where are you, Harlow?" Jenna sighed.