On the inside, jealousy shook my confidence. “You can’t really believe that. They’re just rumors.”
“Honestly, Skylar, my head’s not in the best place right now. I’ve got people telling me they saw them kissing in the parking lot. He’s always hovering around her, and I know she put a naked picture in his locker.”
I’d heard that one too, from more than one person. I glanced down at my phone; the screen was empty. Why hadn’t he called?
Blake shoved his hands into his pockets. “You’ve come to mean a lot to me, and while I don’t think Cody and I will be on speaking terms ever again, I don’t want you to feel awkward around me.”
“I don’t want that either.” And I didn’t. Our groups had merged after that first group date. And Zoe loved being at the head table.
Relief showed in the tilt of his smile. He stretched out a hand. “Friends still? With no possibility of more this time?”
I was glad he could joke about it. Glad we could maybe find a way back to normal. I placed my hand in his. “Friends.”
CODY
My fall from the inner circle had been swift and full of well-coordinated attacks: Ms. Sandival confiscated my phone in second period when Stacey Morgan asked very loudly who I was texting, Coach found out I had detention and demanded I serve it during lunch so I wouldn’t miss practice, and Zoe pulled Skylar into the bathroom the one time I saw her between classes.
And now, fifteen minutes had passed in sixth period, and Skylar was a no-show.
I raised my hand.
“Yes, Mr. James?” Ms. Bakerfield didn’t even glance my direction. A skill we still hadn’t figured out.
“I’m not feeling well. Can I go see the nurse?”
“Nice try. I’ve already heard about your skipping today.” She went back to her boring, monotone lecture, and I sank deeper in my desk.
Another five minutes passed, and finally I saw her, my fire goddess. Only the look she sent me could have withered roses in spring. She handed our teacher a note and walked down the aisle to the back of the room.
The pain in my chest eased a little when she slid into the desk next to mine. I pulled out a sheet of paper and scribbled the words I’d wanted to say to her all day. Rumors aren’t true. I carefully slid the note on her desk.
She stared at them. I silently pleaded for her to believe me, but the hope drifted away when she slid the paper back.
Did you have a naked picture of Lindsay in your locker?
Ms. Bakerfield narrowed in on my note and shook her head in warning. At least she had the courtesy not to call me out. I folded the paper and slipped it in my bag. I needed more than a one-liner to explain what happened this morning.
*
Skylar stayed motionless long after the final bell finished ringing.
I scooted closer and took her hand. “Do you remember when I said no matter what happened today, you were worth it?”
She finally made eye contact. “Yes.”
“Well, this is what I’ve been talking about.”
Skylar sighed. “So, the naked picture is just a lie.”
Why did I feel like honesty was going to get me in trouble? “No. There was a naked picture of Lindsay in my locker this morning, but she didn’t put it there. And the rumors about us this summer are absolutely untrue.”
I could see the wheels spinning in her head, weighing what she’d heard all day with the words I now offered her. “Why didn’t you text me?”
“Because my phone was confiscated in second period.”
Sounds from the hallway filtered into the almost empty classroom. A hand tapped the door frame. Drew, our newest sophomore wrestler. “Coach said you better get to practice. I won’t quote him exactly because there’s a lady present, but it had something to do with detention and suicide sprints and whole lot of pukin’.”
“Fine. I’m coming.” I waved him off and touched a lock of hair on her shoulder. “Can I stop by tonight? We can talk about everything?”
“I don’t know.” Skylar scratched at a nail, her hands tucked delicately in her lap. Her leg crossed over the other and began to swing. Boots that could impale a person rocked back and forth.
Tension cramped my neck and I popped it to the left. How did everything slip away from me so fast? “Please, Skylar.”
She stood. “Okay. But I don’t want any half-truths like at the park. I don’t want any more surprises.”
I followed her out to the hall and braced for her to walk away, but she wrapped her arms around me. I slid a hand through her hair, gripped her neck and held on like she might disappear. Without another word, Skylar pulled herself away from me and walked toward her locker.
The gym was in the other direction, and I sprinted the entire way there. No one said a word when I pushed through the locker room doors. A few of my teammates stood and shook their heads. Others mumbled under their breaths. It was as if someone had died, and I was the one responsible for putting him six feet under.
Blake was already on the mat when I stepped in the gym. He watched his opponent, circling, just waiting for a moment to strike. When it came, he pinned the guy in less than a minute.
I was seeing him for the first time without blinders. He had trimmed down over the summer, but still had enough girth to be in the 182-pound weight class. The weight loss created a quickness and agility he never had before. Blake had been power and strength, limited only by his ability to strike quickly enough. Once he caught a limb, opponents rarely ever escaped.
When coach blew the whistle and gushed about Blake’s progress, a twinge of jealousy hit. Coach hadn’t even cracked a smile in my direction this season.
Blake walked over, his eyes focused and confrontational. “You ready for a round—Captain?” His voice, sarcastic and sharp, made my body temperature spike. If Blake thought I’d be an easy pin, he was dead wrong.
“Always.” I leveled my eyes at him, refusing to be intimidated. I strapped on my headgear and took my position opposite him.
“You’re not the only one who learned a few tricks this summer.” Blake’s mouth curved into an arrogant smile. He said something else, but I tuned him out, instead getting my mind ready for the coming battle.
The whistle blew, and we lunged forward, gripping each other’s necks. His strong arms attempted to push me down, but I kept my body locked, twisting to get a better hold on his frame. We dropped to our knees, still latched onto one another. I pushed down hard, and Blake’s head dropped to the ground. Coach blew the whistle, giving me a point for the take down.
We released and stood again. Blake’s intense stare matched mine, and immediately we were locked in a hold once more. He attempted a leg grab and dropped his shoulder. My counter move was faster, leaving us locked again. The time ran out before either of us could get the upper hand.
“Wow, you boys look good today,” Coach Taylor beamed, thrilled to see his two strongest athletes at their best. “Cody, you take the bottom position for round two.”
I got down on all fours with Blake positioned over me. The whistle blew, and immediately Blake tried to force me on my back. He trapped my head to the floor, but I quickly pulled the switch move Matt had shown me and took control, forcing Blake on all fours. I went for the cradle and had almost pinned him, when Blake reached up and jammed three fingers against my throat.
The move was dirty and illegal, but he was so subtle with the motion that Coach didn’t notice. I struggled for breath while I pushed against his body.
“You picked the wrong side,” he hissed in my ear, never letting go of the chokehold on my neck.
The room went gray as dizziness stole my focus. Blake overpowered me, flipping us over until he had me pinned.
The whistle blew as I gasped for air. Rage exploded inside my chest.
The second Blake stood, I tackled him, sending us both sailing across the floor. My fist made contact with his face twice. The loud pop in my ear told me that Blake had gotten in a punch as well, but I felt not
hing, just blissful numbness.
In the distance, shouts and whistles screeched as two strong arms latched onto me and pulled me back. Eyes locked on Blake, I surged forward, driven by the need to retaliate.
“Cody, enough!” Coach Taylor screamed in my ear, bringing my focus back to the gym, to the other wrestlers watching wide-eyed, and the shocked expression on the other coach’s face.
The salty taste of blood reminded me I’d taken a hit. But I doubted I looked as bad as Blake whose cut lip and swollen eye told me the punches I’d landed were solid ones.
Coach dragged me into his office and slammed the door. Without a word, he pushed me down into the chair and threw me a towel for the bloody sweat trailing down the side of my face.
“What am I supposed to do with you, Cody? You’re the captain!” He paced the room, his temper as elevated as mine. “You want to tell me what in the world is going through your head?”
“No sir.” I could tell him about Blake’s dirty move, but it wouldn’t matter. Actions have consequences and despite the fallout, I didn’t regret hitting him. Or standing up for myself.
He pointed an accusing finger at me. “You boys better settle your stuff and I mean now, or so help me, I will kick you both off the team and call this year a wash.” He got in my face, his eyes blazing. “You got me?”
I met his infuriated stare. “Yes, Coach.”
“Now, go home! I’ve already seen you way too much today.”
I stormed toward the locker room keeping my eyes straight ahead. I was too on edge to deal with anybody mouthing off to me. The gym was back in full swing, the echo of wrestlers vying for dominance bounced off the wood floors. The assistant coaches monitored matches with keen focus, and no one intercepted me.
His eye already starting to bruise, Blake stood by his locker when I entered. Turning, he slammed it shut and stared at me long and hard. I stared right back.
He broke our silence. “Next time you decide to take what’s mine, you might want to do it in a less public place.”
I forced myself not to flinch. He knew about Skylar. He freaking knew and that’s why he set me up. “Good. Saves me the trouble of telling you.” My dismissal made him falter, and I watched him trying to rein in his anger.
“You and me. We’re done. You hear me? Done.”
“We were done weeks ago. The minute Skylar walked into the classroom.” My gaze flickered from the red split in his lower lip to the phone in his hand. “I suppose my name’s already back on the Torments List.” I scanned his face for any proof that he was responsible but was met with only a calculated smile.
He stepped forward, our faces barely a foot apart. “I don’t need some silly list that doesn’t even exist. I brought you to glory, and I will bring you down, one notch at a time.”
His eyes showed he believed his words. Believed he had the power to control. What he didn’t realize was that I was no longer willing to be his whipping boy. “If you hurt Skylar to get to me, I will hunt you down, and there will be no one there to pull me off next time.”
He backed away, still looking much too smug and self-assured. “You don’t get it, Cody. Skylar isn’t the weapon. She’s the prize. And I don’t lose.”
Then he was gone.
Nausea assaulted my stomach, and I ran for the sink. Gripping it tightly, I concentrated on breathing in and out. I was in this locker room when my life changed. I gave up that day. Chose survival over fighting.
I looked up to see a different man in the mirror. This man wasn’t a victim. This man was set apart. And this man was done following orders.
Whatever the backlash, taking a stand was worth it.
I was finally free.
SKYLAR
The most beautiful sound I’d heard in weeks greeted me as I walked into my house. My father lightly strummed his guitar and sang a soft melody. Setting my backpack down as quietly as I could, I tiptoed to the living room. He rested comfortably on the couch, his bare feet propped up. His hair was still shaggy from sleep, but his coloring was the best I’d seen it in days. I was grateful the chemo didn’t attack his hair this time. Seeing him like this almost made me forget he was so sick. Almost.
Easing my way to the other end of the couch, I sat and smiled at him. Immediately, the strumming stopped.
“No, please, keep playing.” I needed the music, especially after all the drama at school.
He started again and I snuggled in, resting my head on the armrest while tucking my feet under his thigh. Eyes closed, I let the melody wash over me. I knew all the words, but I wouldn’t dare tarnish his voice with my tone-deficient one.
After letting the song fade to an end, he set his guitar on the coffee table and let out a satisfied sigh.
“You seem good today.” I sat up, crossing my feet under me.
“Yeah, princess, today is good.” He turned with a grin that went all the way to his eyes. I almost cheered at the picture it made. I hadn’t seen this version of my dad in a long time.
“Speaking of good,” he continued. “I have some great news.”
“What’s that?”
“Ricky and the boys are coming for Thanksgiving. We may even try and lay down the rest of the album we started.” My father always referred to the band as Ricky and the boys. Mostly because he and Ricky were the first members, and they picked up Raif and Stinger later. They were my family, so the news lightened the heaviness in my heart.
“Really? That’s awesome. We haven’t had Thanksgiving together in years.” I pushed aside the nagging thought that this might be our last one and chose to focus on the positive. Daddy looked good. Surely, the chemo was working.
“Also, Josie is coming by tonight, and we are going to have a nice family dinner. Sound good?”
My smile dissolved. “Why can’t it just be you and me? We haven’t had any time together, and you’re actually feeling good tonight.”
The whine in my voice made my father sigh in exasperation. “Sweetheart, Josie’s been by my side through all the really bad days. It’s only fair that she gets to be here on the good days.”
“I could be there for you too, if you’d let me.” The words came out in a mumble, but he heard me.
My father reached out and ran his hand over my hair. I leaned in, enjoying the comfort of his touch. “You’re my daughter. I’m supposed to be your hero. Your rock. It would hurt me to be so weak in front of you. Can you understand that?”
I nodded. My dad asked very little of me, but this seemed to matter to him a great deal.
He clapped his hands together and picked up his guitar again. “Any requests?”
Smiling, I leaned back and closed my eyes again. “Yes. ‘My Little Heart.’ ” My father had written the song when I was born but never recorded it. I loved having a piece of him the world had never heard.
The music floated around us, his voice as crisp and perfect as a nightingale in song. But he didn’t even make it to the second verse before the front door shut and shoes padded across the marble floors. Only one other person would just walk in. Aunt Josephine.
Irritation shot through me like a blade. She was an intruder, ending the best moment I’d had with my dad in months. Wasn’t it enough that he’d chosen to share his hurts with her? Did she have to take the little time that was left for me?
The music stopped, and I heard my father set down his guitar and stand.
I was sure he was hugging her, but I feigned sleep. They whispered quietly and left the room. The silence felt deafening after the beauty that had been there seconds before. I reached for my phone, wondering if Cody was out of practice yet.
Zoe’s name popped up.
Zoe: Cody attacked Blake during wrestling practice.
I pressed my temples. Normal felt further away than ever. More surprises. More rumors. Was it ever going to stop?
Me: How did you hear this?
Zoe: Ashley told me. She saw them all in the parking lot. Blake had a black eye and split lip.
&
nbsp; Me: How’s Cody?
Zoe: Fine, I guess. She said he walked straight to Lindsay’s car. They sat together for like ten minutes before he finally went to his truck. I guess the rumors really are true.
I was too stunned to know what to type back.
Zoe: Hey, do you want to go to the mall?
Me: Can’t. Dinner with the family. I’ll see you tomorrow.
I bolted to my room and picked up the Pop’s Burger napkin I’d saved from Friday night. My mind immediately recalled every moment of that night. Cody’s laugh. His strong arms around me, his lips. The way he looked into my eyes.
I had to calm down. I had to think rationally. I had to make a choice.
Trust Cody or ends things before he broke my heart.
CODY
It only took fifteen minutes to discover who Blake’s weapon would be.
Lindsay sat in her car, head down, crying. I tapped on the passenger side window and pulled open the door.
“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” she said between sobs. “It’s all my fault.”
I slid into the seat but kept the door open. “What are you talking about? This is between Blake and me. You had nothing to do with it.”
She wiped at her cheeks. “But I did. I told him I gave you my password. I told him you knew about the Torments List.” Her fist hit the steering wheel. “I’m the worst person ever.”
I shook my head trying to make sense of her broken sentences. “Wait. When?”
“He came over Saturday when my parents were out. I wasn’t going to let him in, but he was so spastic and angry that, I don’t know, I thought he might break down the door or something. He accused us of sleeping together. Can you believe that? And when I tried to deny it, he said my hanging all over you was why the school thought I was a slut.” She shifted in her seat to face me. “Cody, I snapped. I yelled at him. I’ve never yelled at him.” She dipped her head. “He interrogated me until I finally just told him whatever he wanted to know.”
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