When the Saint Falls: a high school bully romance (Westbrook three Book 1)

by A. D. McCammon

  Chapter Seventeen

  VIOLET

  The sun seems low today, the air even warmer than normal for late spring, forcing me to slip off my flannel and tie it around my waist before taking a seat on my favorite bench. A smile beams on my face as I open my lunch sack and look over at my new friend.

  In the natural light, you can see the auburn sheen of her dark hair. It’s not right for one girl to hold this much beauty. She’s not the least bit vain either. I don’t think she has a clue how gorgeous she is. Hanging out with her the past couple days, I’ve come to realize her confidence is a front. Guess it proves all girls have insecurities, even the ones we admire and aspire to be.

  “I feel privileged getting to eat lunch out here with you,” Arwen gushes around a mouthful of food, her eyes admiring the pink buds on the tree above us.

  “You should.” I bump her shoulder with mine as I dig out my sandwich. “Although, apparently, Thatcher has been the gate keeper all along, not me. I had wondered how he knew where I was last week when he came out here forbidding me to go to the party.”

  Her eyebrows jump, then she laughs, stopping short when she nearly chokes on a chip. “No shit?” she rasps before taking a sip of water. “I swear, his crazy knows no bounds when it comes to you. I’m still tripping over what you said to him this morning. So badass.”

  My stomach flips as my words replay in my mind. “You’ll have to play with me.” I’m not sure what possessed me to say it. Might’ve had something to do with seeing him with Samantha again this morning.

  Even though Arwen seemed certain nothing was going on between Thatcher and Sam, she couldn’t say for a fact. Which meant Thatcher hadn’t told her what went on. Since he was with Sam again this morning, the odds weren’t likely in my favor. So, when he started messing with me in class, I led him to believe something happened with Aidan. It was a little immature and completely unfair to Aidan, but I wanted Thatcher to feel what I was feeling.

  I suppose we had almost shared a kiss, but Cole put a stop to that. In the end, I’d left Aidan at the party without even saying goodbye. He sent me a text while I was at Sal’s with Arwen asking where I went, and she helped me come up with a cover story about leaving with a friend who was distraught.

  It’s obvious he’s upset with me. I didn’t hear from him yesterday, and he barely spoke to me during Chemistry last period. We need to talk. Aidan needs to know I’m not interested in anything more than friendship. But I’m a coward, so I’m putting it off.

  “I bet he’s losing his mind.” Arwen sounds a little too thrilled with the idea. The girl is ferocious, and I’m so glad she’s on my side. “I don’t see how he couldn’t. With you slaying him with your words and looking extra yummy today—which I’m sure I’ll hear about later.”

  I take another bite of my turkey sandwich as my lips begin to curl into a smile. It’s obvious Arwen had a hand in picking out my outfit today. She invited me over to her house yesterday to hang out and ended up sending me home with a box full of clothes she said were all too small for her now.

  Though I suspect that wasn’t entirely true, I didn’t protest. Most people would be too prideful to accept someone’s hand-me-downs, but when you grow up the way I did, you’re grateful for whatever you can get. My clothes typically come from the thrift store anyway, and everything she gave me was much nicer and newer than I’m used to.

  Later that night, she called saying we should strategize about the Thatcher situation and made some suggestions on what I should wear. I’d settled on this outfit because it felt the most like me, still modest with a hint of sex appeal.

  “You know, if you really want to give him a heart attack…” she muses, her eyes dancing as they skim over me. She lifts her hand to my shoulder, slipping her pinky finger under the strap of my tank top to tug on it as she suggestively wiggles her eyebrows. “Leave the flannel around your waist.”

  Letting out a nervous laugh, I avert my eyes to the grass as my face heats. “These thin straps might get me dinged for dress code,” I choke out.

  “Yeah, you’re right. Besides, we don’t need Thatcher losing his shit on some poor, unsuspecting guy.”

  We both laugh, and our conversation transitions away from Thatcher to our plans for the summer through the rest of lunch. Turns out, Arwen and I will both be attending summer school. She’s a few credits behind so it’s the only way for her to stay on track to graduate next year. Which is why I’m attending, only I’m ahead, not behind.

  Every year, I’ve taken an extra class instead of having a free period in addition to attending summer school. I’ll be able to skip my junior year and start next fall as a senior. Arwen was ecstatic when she found out we’d be graduating together, maybe even more so knowing she wouldn’t be suffering the halls of WHS alone all summer.

  We step back inside as the bell rings. Samantha is standing right by the door as if she’s waiting on me. Refusing to let her know how bothered I am about Thatcher, I give her a weak smile as I continue to walk past her.

  “Violet, wait,” she calls out, following behind us. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

  “Umm… no,” Arwen says, glaring at Sam over her shoulder.

  Chuckling, I place my hand on Arwen’s shoulder as I come to a stop. Her eyes soften as they land on me. “It’s okay. You go ahead, I’ll catch up with you after class.”

  Worry etches across her brow as she studies me. “You sure?”

  The truth is, talking to Samantha is the last thing I feel like doing, but it’s not fair for me to be upset with her. She doesn’t know anything about what’s been going on with Thatcher. In fact, I’ve told her on more than one occasion I wasn’t interested in him. He’s the one who deserves my anger.

  I nod, and Arwen’s eyes cut back to Samantha in warning before she stalks off. Once she’s gone, Samantha steps up beside me, letting out a nervous laugh.

  “She doesn’t like me very much, huh?”

  Without sparing her a glance, I resume walking toward my next class. “What’s up, Sam?”

  “Well, I…uh…there’s something I need to talk to you about, but maybe this is a bad time.”

  Some “it” girls snarl their perfectly painted lips at me as they approach, huffing in contempt as I push my way through them. After the rumors about Thatcher began swirling around and Aidan started hanging out with me at school, I went from invisible to enemy. Normally, I would shy away to avoid any kind of confrontation, but today, I almost welcome it.

  “Nope, it’s fine. Go ahead,” I clip.

  “It’s about Aidan.”

  “What about him?”

  She tugs on my arm, jerking me to a stop, and my eyes narrow before landing on her. “I’m sorry, but will you please give me a second? He said if I talked to you, you’d understand.”

  “Who?”

  “Thatcher.”

  Jealousy pokes at my insecurities, and my head spins. “I thought this was about Aidan.”

  “It is…” She sighs, her eyelids falling as she takes a deep breath. “I’ll explain, if you give me the chance.”

  Moaning, I gesture for her to follow me, then move to a little cubby between the rows of lockers.

  “I’m listening,” I tell her as soon as we’re both tucked away.

  “Thank you.” She takes another deep breath, making my heart thump heavily with worry as I cross my arms and lean into the wall. “I’ve been trying to figure out the right way to say this all day, but I’m not sure there is one. So, I’m just going to say it. I like him. Like, a lot. I have for a long time.”

  My stomach drops as if I’m going downhill on a roller coaster. “That isn’t a big revelation,” I grit out. “You did leave the party with him the other night.”

  Her face scrunches with revulsion. “No, not Thatcher. Aidan. I like Aidan.”

  I stand a little taller, air flowing more freely. “I don’t understand. Why are you telling me this?”

  “Well…” She fidgets with the straps
of her backpack, her eyes scanning the hallway before meeting mine again. “I know the two of you are dating or whatever. But Thatcher said if I talked to you and was honest about how I felt…”

  “Thatcher? Are you saying you told Thatcher you like Aidan?” She bites down on her bottom lip as she nods. “Was this before or after the two of you hooked up the other night?”

  She cringes at the venom in my tone, and her gaze falls to her feet. “Thatcher and I had fun, but he knows I have feelings for Aidan, and he’s cool with it.”

  I let out a bitter laugh, feeling the urge to either hit her or cry. Perhaps both. “That’s wonderful for you,” I seethe. “But I’m not so sure Aidan would be cool with dating the type of girl who likes to have fun with random guys she meets at parties.”

  Her eyes snap back to mine, her hurt evident as they go watery, but I don’t back down. I’m too furious to care. “Are we done here?”

  When she hangs her head, I push off the wall, but she grabs ahold of my arm again before I have a chance to flee. “Wait,” she pleads.

  My jaw steels as I glare at her, my eyebrow lifting with impatience. She lets go of me before running her palms down her dress. “He’s going to kill me for telling you this…”

  “What is it?” I snap as the final bell rings.

  “Nothing happened with Thatcher, I swear.” A rush of air passes through my mouth as it drops open, my eyes fluttering with confusion. “I’ll admit, I was hitting on him at the beginning of the night because I was jealous and upset that you were there with Aidan. And I’m sorry for that.” Her words are sincere, her tone honest.

  I nod, accepting her apology.

  “Thatcher made it very clear he wasn’t interested. He asked me to leave the party with him because he wanted to take me home. It’s like he was trying to protect me or something, but to be honest, I don’t think it was me he wanted to drag away from that party.” My cheeks flush as she gives me a knowing look. “We only ended up at Sal’s after I threw a fit, and he grilled me for information about you the entire time.” Her eyes pop as she curses herself. “Oh lord, please don’t tell him I told you all that.”

  I shake my head, my mind reeling from her confession. “I won’t.”

  “And Aidan?” she presses.

  “I’ll happily step aside. Why don’t you call me tonight so we can talk?”

  A smile breaks across her face as she nods, and I rush to my next class in a fog. Thatcher wanted Samantha to talk to me about Aidan hoping it would put an end to anything I have going on with him. Yet, he wanted me to believe he had hooked up with her after the party. We’re still playing a game, but at least I’m starting to learn the rules.

  Chapter Eighteen

  VIOLET

  The dinner table is quieter than usual, nervous energy filling my stomach instead of the beef stroganoff on my plate. Austin is the only one talking, though it’s more like gibbering. He’s very fascinated with Arwen. I think he might even be experiencing his first crush at the ripe ol’ age of two. Can’t say I blame him. She is awesome.

  My mom has been insisting on meeting the new friend I spend so much time with and told me to invite Arwen over for dinner. Since I rarely bring any friends over, this feels a little like having your parents meet a boyfriend for the first time. Or at least how I imagine it would feel. It’s important to me that they like her because she’s special to me.

  It seemed a little weird asking Arwen if she wanted to come over for dinner, but she’s been excited all day. It broke my heart when she told me she hadn’t sat down at a family dinner since before her mother passed away years ago.

  I’d been so jealous of her big house filled with nice things and felt almost embarrassed to have her over to mine. But Arwen was envious of the family life I often take for granted. Her house wasn’t a home. It was cold and lonely. Her dad is so preoccupied with work, he barely acknowledged either of us while I was there. We might not have a lot, but we have each other, and I wouldn’t trade that for all the money in the world.

  “So, Arwen…” my mother begins, trying to break the awkward silence. Arwen sits up a little straighter, swallowing her food as she meets my mother’s gaze. “Your name?”

  Arwen chuckles. “Yeah, my mom was a big Tolkien fan. She thought it was a great idea to name me after some fictional half-elven princess.”

  “Well, it’s a beautiful name, and you certainly embody Arwen’s beauty,” mom coos.

  “It’s much better than your mother naming you Violet Aster because purple is her favorite color.”

  “Oh, be quiet, you.” Mom chuckles. “Arwen, I must admit, there’s an ulterior motive behind me inviting you over for dinner.”

  “Mom…” I whine.

  Arwen snickers, her eyes sliding over to me, then back to my mom. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

  “Well, my Violet has been very secretive lately.”

  Guilt punches me in the chest. I used to be very open with my mom, but things have been confusing lately. When she grilled me about the party, I didn’t know what to say. I honestly hadn’t been there long, and I’d spent most of the time in a room alone with a boy she knew nothing about. Thatcher was a whole can of worms I wasn’t ready to open—not until I was sure what I’d find inside.

  A mischievous grin spreads across Arwen’s face. I’m not going to like where this conversation is headed. My face heats, and I groan as my mother continues. “And I’m hoping to pry some information out of you.”

  “Mom, stop!” She wiggles her eyebrows at me, taking another bite of her dinner.

  “Well, you did feed me,” Arwen muses. “But…she’s my best friend.”

  “Thank you.” I stick my tongue out at my mother.

  “What if we threw in dessert?” my dad chimes in.

  I cross my arms, flopping against the back of my chair. “You too, father?”

  He gives me a wry smile and shrugs a shoulder.

  “In that case, I’ll sing like a canary.”

  My mouth drops open as I look at my friend who merely winks at me.

  “Canary,” Austin echoes, earning him a loving pat from Arwen and a moan from me.

  “Deal,” my mom says, rubbing her hands together in excitement. “Is she dating anyone?”

  My eyes widen, and my face goes bright red. “Mom! Seriously?”

  Panic floods me, and I’m too terrified to meet Arwen’s eyes again. I was not prepared for my parents to grill Arwen about my life. If I had been, I would’ve begged her to keep her mouth shut. This could end badly for me.

  “Oh!” my mom exclaims before gesturing between Arwen and me. “Are the two of you dating? That might explain why you’re spending so much time together and my daughter lights up when she’s talking about you.”

  “Oh my god, Mother!” I shout, burying my head in my hands.

  Arwen lets out an uneasy laugh, giving my shoulder a quick squeeze to let me know it’s okay. “Sadly, we are not. Though, I would love to date your daughter,” Arwen answers, the longing in her words like a chokehold around my heart. “I’m afraid she’s off limits for me. Someone I care for very much has been crushing on Violet for a long time, and I think she’s had her eye on him too.”

  “Him?” My mother hedges.

  My head snaps up, my eyes pleading as they land on Arwen, but she’s focused on her plate, absentmindedly pushing around the pasta with her fork. “Thatcher. Thatcher Michaelson.” Sighing, a sad smile presses her lips. “He’s crazy about her. Rightfully so.”

  The table falls silent again after that, all of us returning to our dinner. Except Austin, who takes the opportunity to throw some of his across the table. We all laugh, easing the tension in the room again.

  Damn, I love that kid.

  Chapter Nineteen

  THATCHER

  The video comes to an end, and I hit play again. It’s the third time I’ve watched it since I parked outside of school and the tenth time this morning. I’ve been playing it on a continuous loop sinc
e Arwen sent it to me Friday evening. I know every second of the five-minute video by heart, and I can’t get enough.

  My heart soars as Violet smiles into the vanity mirror on her dresser, bopping along to the music as she brushes her hair. In the reflection, you can see a little boy with the same blonde hair and blue eyes on the bed behind her, the loving warmth displayed on her features obviously for him.

  When the song begins to play, Violet sings along to the lyrics while her little brother bounces, repeatedly singing a single line. Every time the kid’s favorite part comes on, Violet uses the brush like a microphone, turning to the boy so they can sing. “Oh, Amy, don’t hate me…” Once the song ends, she scoops the boy into her arms and gives him a kiss on his chubby cheek. And right before the video ends, you hear Violet saying, “I love you.”

  All weekend, I’ve been trying to decide if I’m grateful for this video or want to kill Arwen for sending it to me. She’s screwing with me, and it’s working. My pathetic ass even looked up the song, listening to it and other songs from The Get Up Kids in between watching.

  The message she sent along with it certainly wasn’t appreciated. You better get your head out of your ass. I’m falling hard for your girl.

  She could get in fucking line right along with Cole. They’re both clearly smitten with Violet. Both pushing me to step up to Violet’s challenge. I can’t decide what to do or how to act around her. As always, I’m torn between doing what I want and what I feel is right. Only now, I feel like I’m losing control over the situation. She’s no longer fooled by my angry aggression. She’s seen behind the mask. And thanks to Arwen, she’s gaining the upper hand.

  My car door is flung open, my phone ripped from my hands before I even know what’s happening. “What the hell are you doing, man? Are you sitting in here watching porn or something?”

  Cole smirks at me as I scowl at him. “Give me back my phone, asshole.”

  He jerks the phone out of my reach when I try to grab it out of his hand. “Well, shit…I was only teasing, but maybe I should check out what had you so captivated.”