by Wendi Wilson
“Savanna? Are you okay?” I heard him ask as my senses slowly came back to me.
“Yeah,” I said, nodding my head vigorously. “I’m okay.”
Jett came striding down the aisle, stopping beside me and holding out a hand. “Let’s get out of here,” he said.
I wrapped my fingers around his and stood, letting him lead me from the room. My eyes burned with unshed tears of anger and regret but I forced them back until we were safely out in the hall. Jett tightened his grip on me as he led the way toward the building’s exit.
I tugged him to a halt. “Where are we going? Where are Wyatt and Beckett?”
“I’m getting you out of here. Wyatt and Beck will meet us in the parking lot when they’re done.”
“Done with what?” I asked.
His breath puffed out on a sigh. “Done persuading the whole class to forget what happened.”
“Oh,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.
Jett started moving again, and I let him pull me along behind him. I didn’t know how to feel about what happened and what was happening as we fled the scene of the crime. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew that Fiona deserved what she got. But at the same time, I was appalled that I’d lost it so completely. I had more self-control than that. Usually.
The others were another story. While I didn’t think they deserved to have their minds wiped, at the same time, I didn’t want to get into trouble for fighting. That tiny kernel of desire, of gratitude that the boys were using their gift to keep me safe from reprimand, made me feel guilty. Really guilty.
Before I could decide whether or not to go back and stop them, bright sunlight and cold wind wrapped around my body. We were out, no longer contained by the oppressive cinderblock walls and recycled air. I pulled my hand from Jett’s and stopped, bracing my palms against my knees as I took in great gulps of much-needed oxygen.
My head whipped around as the door banged open behind me. Wyatt and Beckett jogged toward me, frowns marring their otherwise beautiful faces. The first tear spilled over, splashing against my cheek, followed closely by a steady stream as my breath huffed in and out.
“I’m sorry,” I chanted. “I’m sorry. So sorry.”
“Savanna, stop.”
I heard the words but couldn’t comprehend their meaning. I continued to chant my apologies, shortness of breath making the words choppy. My heart was beating out an irregular staccato rhythm as sweat beaded across my nose and upper lip despite the low temperature of the air around us.
“I think she’s having a panic attack,” someone said. It might have been Beckett.
“What do we do?”
“I don’t know, I’m not a doctor!” Jett. Definitely Jett.
Strong arms wrapped around me, lifting me from my feet and carrying me across the parking lot. Tears poured down my face unchecked as unintelligible words passed my numb lips. The scent of leather cleaner tickled my nose as I was gently lifted into the cab of the truck. Gentle hands stretched the seatbelt across my chest and clicked it into place.
My next coherent memory was someone unlatching the belt and pulling me from the truck. I looked around, really seeing for the first time leaving chemistry. We were at my house, and Beckett was digging through my purse by the front door.
“Got it,” he said, pulling my keyring from the bag and unlocking the door.
I looked up at the face of the boy cradling me against his chest. It was Wyatt. Jett’s face popped up over his shoulder, snagging my gaze with troubled eyes.
“Savanna?” he said, seeming to realize I wasn’t totally out of it anymore.
Wyatt’s faced turned toward mine as his feet stopped moving. I nodded and sniffed, letting him know I was okay. He started walking again and I squirmed in his arms.
“I can walk,” I said, my voice raspy.
He didn’t respond, just kept walking and frowning. His frown reminded me of what happened, of why I lost my mind to begin with. I was certain they were angry with me for losing it and beating the crap out of Fiona. The repercussions of my actions— the need for persuasion against a teacher and an entire class, the chance that someone could remember and we’d all get expelled— it was all too much.
Once inside, Wyatt took me straight to the couch in the living room and set me down with the utmost care. I looked into his eyes and apologized again. His frown deepened as he dropped to his knees in front of me and placed his palms on my cheeks. Rubbing away the wetness with his thumbs, he spoke in quiet tones.
“Savanna, please. Stop apologizing. You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”
“But,” I said, my heart picking up its pace again, “Fiona…and…the persuasion…and…you and Beckett were mad at me.”
Beckett dropped into the couch beside me, his arm circling my shoulders as he breathed into my ear, “We were not mad at you, Savanna. Never you.”
I bounced a little as Jett’s weight plopped down on my other side. His hand warmed my thigh, rubbing a path from knee to hip and back again.
“We were pissed at Fiona for tripping you. And ourselves for not doing more to protect you. No one was angry or blames you for what you did,” he said.
“You weren’t mad at me?” I asked, my eyes locked onto Wyatt’s. “You were frowning, not smiling,” I added, like it made total, perfect sense.
His lips ticked up before dropping again. “I was angry. Angry at that bitch for hurting you. Angry at the rest of those dumb hicks for laughing and pointing. Angry that I had to waste time persuading them all to keep their big mouths shut when I should have been with you, soothing your hurt and making it all better. Then I saw you, bent over and crying and losing your shit, and it made me want to go in and beat the crap out of Fiona myself.”
I leaned forward, pressing my lips against his, my tongue demanding entry as the emotion poured out of me and into Wyatt through our connection. I think my attack startled all three of them. Wyatt didn’t move, his hands still glued to my cheeks. Beckett’s arm was still wrapped around my shoulder and Jett’s hand stilled but remained on my upper thigh.
I needed, in that moment, to show Wyatt how much his words meant to me. That’s why, in that moment, I decided to kiss him despite the presence of his brothers.
And, of course, it was that exact moment that my mom walked into the room.
Chapter Twelve
“What the…Savanna!”
Our little huddle of four flew apart at her exclamation. My mouth opened and closed a couple of times, nothing coming out but a small squeak. Mom’s purse thudded to the floor as her face turned colors, going from white to pink to red. She threw up a hand and pointed toward the front door.
“Out!” she yelled, her command pulling the boys from their frozen state.
“Mrs. James, we can explain,” Beckett said, his voice pleading.
“I said, out!” she said, her voice harsh with anger.
The boys each looked to me like they were asking what to do. I nodded at each of them, letting them know without words that I’d be okay. I hoped I was right.
The front door barely clicked shut before she started in on me. Pacing around in front of me, she spoke in low tones, her voice laced with anger and, even worse, disappointment.
“What were you thinking, Savanna? We had an agreement. No kinky stuff. And why, exactly are you not at school right now?”
“Mom, I can explain. It’s not what you think.”
She laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Of course not,” she said, her tone overflowing with sarcasm. “Tell me then, what was it? Because it sure looked like you skipped school to make out with three boys at once on our sofa.”
I flinched before steeling my spine. “Mom, please sit down and I’ll explain.”
She narrowed her eyes at me, her expression telling me I had no business making any demands, before her face smoothed out and she plopped down on the couch next to me. She waved her hand around, motioning for me to talk.
“This better be good,” she said in
a flat voice.
“I got into a fight at school,” I said.
“What?” she exclaimed, her posture stiffening as worry overtook her expression. “Why? With who? Are you okay?”
I held up a hand to stop the questions and she fell silent. I described everything that happened from the moment our feet hit school property to the time the brothers brought me home. Mom held her silence, listening intently.
“I was a wreck and they were comforting me,” I said once I finished filling her in. “I had it in my head that Wyatt was mad at me because I caused so much trouble. When I asked him as much, he was so sweet and supportive, angry for me, not at me. I was overwhelmed and kissed him without thinking. That’s what you walked in on. Nothing more.”
“But they were all touching you,” she said, her voice a near-whisper.
“It was innocent,” I said. “No one expected me to kiss Wyatt at that moment, not even me. I’m sorry you got upset, Mom, but you jumped to the wrong conclusion.”
She sat in silence for a moment, her eyes unfocused. I could see the wheels turning in her head, weighing the probability that I was telling the truth against what her own eyes saw. I could tell I’d won when her body relaxed and one side of her mouth ticked up.
“You really slapped Fiona?” she asked.
I laughed. “Mom! You’re supposed to reprimand me and tell me violence is never the answer.”
She huffed. “Do you know who you’re talking to?” she asked, pointing at herself. “That little spoiled brat deserves way more than a slap for all she’s done to you over the years.”
I frowned. “It was like kindergarten all over again. I lost control and was on her before I even knew what was happening. The boys had to pull me off of her.”
“Will you be in trouble?” she asked.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Beckett and Wyatt persuaded everyone to forget what happened, but they thought they had it covered at the party too and look how that turned out. At the very least, you might get a call about me missing all my classes.”
“I’ll call the school and tell them you’re sick,” she said, waving that concern off. “And, if for some reason you do get reprimanded for the fight, I’ll be there to back you up.”
I smiled. “Thanks, Mom.”
“Of course, Baby,” she said, leaning over and pulling me into her arms for a tight squeeze. Releasing me, she continued, “And as for that little scene I walked in on, I believe you. I just want you to be careful. I know you’re almost eighteen and an adult, and you’re in love, but things like that can escalate out of control faster than you’d think.”
I was too emotionally exhausted to argue, so I just nodded and said, “I’ll be careful.”
Our conversation petered out after that and I excused myself to go to my room. I pulled my phone from my pocket and pulled up my group text thread with the boys.
Savanna: I’m still alive. :/
I stretched out on my bed and stared at the ceiling, my mind going over and over what had happened at school. The whispers. The laughter. My body slamming into the floor before slamming into Fiona. A small smile tugged my lips up. That last part wasn’t so bad.
My phone chimed.
Wyatt: I’m so sorry Savanna. I should have heard her coming. This is all my fault.
I started to type out a response, but more texts came pouring in.
Jett: Are you forbidden to see us, now?
Beckett: Are you okay? None of us heard your mom coming. The blame is on all three of us.
Savanna: Stop. All of you. Everything is fine. I explained what happened, and she believed me. I’m not in trouble and I’m not forbidden to see anyone.
Beckett: Really?
Wyatt: Oh, thank God.
Jett: Can we come back over?
Wyatt: We’re parked just up the street.
Savanna: Seriously?
Jett: You didn’t really think we’d leave you, did you?
I blinked away the burning sensation in my eyes. Somewhere in the back of mind, I knew they wouldn’t go far. It was no surprise. But the day had been full of so many highs and lows, my emotions were running on overdrive.
The sound of the doorbell pulled me from my thoughts. I got out of bed and wandered down the hall, hearing Wyatt’s voice before I could see who was there. I paused to listen.
“It was my fault, Mrs. James. She didn’t realize what she was doing, and I should have pulled away sooner. I apologize.”
“It’s not really me you should be apologizing to, is it?” my mom said, making me roll my eyes.
“Mom,” I called out, moving toward her.
She turned to me with a smile and backed away from the door. “I don’t get to make them suffer, even a little bit?”
I looked over to see Wyatt just outside the door, Beckett and Jett flanking him. I could see the tension drain out of them at my mom’s words, realization dawning on them that she was just yanking their chains and wasn’t really mad. I shot them each a smile.
“Come in,” I said.
“Please behave,” my mom said, a grimace etched on her face as she backed away before turning and heading toward the back of the house.
I led the boys back to the living room and slumped into the couch cushions. The boys remained standing, looking unsure. They probably though it wasn’t safe to sit with me because I’d attack one of them again.
“Sit down,” I said. “I’m gonna get a crick in my neck looking up at you guys.”
They crowded onto the couch with me, squeezing me in between Wyatt and Jett, with Beckett on the other side of Jett. I leaned heavily against Wyatt, resting my head on his shoulder.
“I never told you guys it was safe to come back,” I said.
“We didn’t care if it was safe or not,” Jett said. “We needed to see for ourselves that you’re okay and Wyatt wanted to apologize to your mom.”
I narrowed my eyes at Wyatt. “Why did you think you needed to apologize?”
“Because of what she saw,” he said. “I was kissing you while Jett and Beck were touching you, too. I couldn’t stand that she thought we were doing something shady to you.”
I sat up straight. “Okay, first of all,” I said, holding up a finger, “I kissed you, not the other way around. Second of all,” another finger popped up to join the first, “it’s not like we were undressing or anything. She overreacted and once I explained, she was fine. She’s calling the school to tell them I’m out sick and she was actually happy I finally lost it and took down Fiona.”
Jett barked out a laugh. “She was happy?” he asked, his voice incredulous.
I nodded. “She also said she’d have my back if the fight somehow got out and I got in trouble.”
“We persuaded everyone,” Beckett said, shaking his head.
“We thought we got everyone at the party, too,” Jett said, frowning.
“Yeah,” I said, something occurring to me for the first time, “and you persuaded Fiona months ago. She’s not supposed to be able to bully me anymore. How is it that she was able to trip me?”
Jett’s eyebrows dropped low over his eyes. “That’s a good question.”
“Something strange is going on here,” Wyatt said.
“And we’re going to figure out what it is,” Beckett added, earning nods from his brothers.
“Together,” I said, daring them to try to exclude me.
All three smiled. “Together,” they each repeated.
And I knew we’d figure it out. Together, we could do anything.
Chapter Thirteen
A couple of weeks passed without incident. I honestly expected school to be hell, but things were eerily normal. No one knew I attacked Fiona, she went on ignoring me and the giggle-whispers in the halls were at a minimum.
Apparently, I had Lizzie to thank for that last bit. She let it be known that someone drugged me at her party. She also sat with me and the boys at lunch at least twice a week. Her support went a long way in swaying the o
pinions of others and if she accepted my unconventional relationship, most everyone else did, too. It was weird. The students were like sheep following their shepherd.
And she was their shepherd. Lizzie had somehow bumped Fiona out of her coveted queen bee position and Fiona didn’t seem to mind. She followed Lizzie around like a devoted minion, hanging on her every word and catering to her every whim. After that brief time when Lizzie flat out ignored her existence, their roles reversed and Lizzie had a solid devotee in her corner.
So weird.
The boys and I hadn’t gotten any closer to figuring out how Fiona had broken her persuasion or who posted that video of me at the party. They had been discreetly trying to persuade the truth out of various students and no one knew anything. It was all very frustrating.
My appointments with Dr. Patton continued without further incident, as well. He took my blood on Thursdays and we practiced persuasion on Saturdays. Same old, same old. Until one Saturday in late March. That was the day everything changed.
When I arrived at the house, Dr. Patton ushered me inside and told me to wait for him in his office. It wasn’t raining, which was the only time we practiced inside, but I followed his instruction without question. As I stepped into the room, my eyes searched for the boys. The room was empty. Dr. Patton walked around me and headed for the desk.
“So, Savanna,” he said, the large leather chair squeaking under his weight as he sat, “how are you enjoying our practice sessions?”
“Are you kidding?” I asked. “You know I hate them. It kills me, taking away their free will like that.”
“You don’t feel even the slightest rush of power when you bend them to your will?”
My head snapped back, disgust filling me. The man was a monster.
“First of all,” I said, trying to keep my voice level, “I’m bending them to your will, not mine. And secondly, no. Absolutely not. I will never find pleasure in this so-called gift.”
“Why not?” he asked, ignoring my repugnance. “Don’t you think those boys enjoy it when they use persuasion on a norm?”
“Maybe,” I admitted. “But it’s different.”
