I lifted my shoulders a bit and exhaled a bitter laugh. “It seemed like a bad idea to put you back in that mess. You’ve been through too much. I didn’t want you to get emotional—”
“Emotional?” Her voice erupted like an air horn in the otherwise hushed hallway.
Glancing around, I inched closer, feeling my nerves heat up with her obvious anger. “That’s not what I meant—”
“Why didn’t you tell me about this this morning?” Her wall was up, and I stood there in fucking awe of how close I’d been to her a moment ago. “Another video, Jared!” she burst out. “I should’ve known about this.”
“I didn’t know it was being recorded!”
What the hell? Why was she mad? If anything, she should’ve been happy that I defended her honor! Of course, Nate walked away without a scratch, but the video cut off as my blade went in his face. People would assume the worst until Nate showed up to verify that he was fine.
Tate was overreacting, because she didn’t know what had happened.
“That’s the same excuse you used last time!” she retorted.
“‘Excuse?’” Was she really implying that I knew about the sex video? “You’re blowing up about nothing. Again! Just like my fucking car!”
I ran my hand through my hair and blew out a breath.
“Look.” My teeth were bared, and my voice was low. “K.C. brought Nate over to Madoc’s house last night—”
“K.C. was in on this?” she interrupted. “And not me? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
“I didn’t have a chance,” I gritted out, waving my hand. “You crept into my room and jumped on my cock so fast this morning—”
“Ugh!” she growled and slammed her knee right between my legs.
I hunched forward and fell to one knee.
Shit, shit, shit … I moaned as a white hot pain shot through my groin.
Jesus Christ, Tate!
My eyes squeezed shut, and I breathed in and out quickly, trying to keep my legs from collapsing underneath me.
My fucking dick was on fire and nausea rolled through my stomach in waves. Holy mother…
I sucked in breath after breath, trying not to vomit…or cry.
Tate was gone. I didn’t see her leave, but I felt her absence.
And there I was. Alone, and stupid in a hallway full of people I couldn’t see, because I was blurry-eyed and shaking.
Tatum Fucking Brandt.
She was going to kill me.
Weight hit my shoulder, and I sank forward a little farther.
“She does that well, doesn’t she?”
Madoc.
He helped me up, and I leaned against the lockers, trying to stay upright. The initial shock had passed, but I was still in bad shape.
That sucked, and I never wanted to feel that again.
“The video?” I grunted, wanting to sound tough but my voice cracked like I was almost in tears.
“Your brother.” He nodded. “I saw him catch the show on his phone last night when you weren’t paying attention, but I had no idea what he was doing with it.” He raised his eyebrows. “Until this morning when he emailed it to me.”
“Goddamn, you two,” I cursed. “And you thought it would be a good idea to send that to everyone?”
“Yeah.” He nodded resolutely, his eyes lighting up. “I thought it was a perfect idea to send it to everyone. Let them see that piece of shit whimpering. Give him a taste of his own medicine.”
“Well, Tate’s blaming me now.”
“Well…” he started laughing, “I didn’t know she’d react like that, but you knew you had that coming, right?”
He was laughing? Yeah, this was real fuckin’ funny.
“She overreacted.” I stood up straight, trying to nonchalantly massage my dick back to life in a hallway full of people. “I took the high road last night. Besides, after what that dickhead did, did she really think I was going to do nothing? And why did it bother her anyway?”
The questions just kept coming. Tate shouldn’t have been that angry.
Sweat covered my neck and back, and I felt like chasing her down and throwing her over my shoulder.
“Tate’s got baggage, thanks to us. Trust issues,” Madoc continued and walked around in front of me. “Look.” He lowered his eyes and shook his head. “Normally, I couldn’t care less about who you screwed or what kind of trouble you got yourself into. I’ve sat back and let you self-destruct. But Tate? She’s our shortie. Now, go fix your shit.”
I watched him walk away, more and more baffled by how my friend continued to surprise me.
Was he right?
Yeah.
Tate needed to trust me. We were still working on that, and I could’ve gotten into trouble last night. She would’ve been worried and pissed if anything had happened to me, or I’d done something stupid.
I’m sure she was also still insecure about anything that she imagined went down between K.C. and I. Me being in the same place as her friend, without her, would piss her off.
I barreled down the hallway, ready to yank her out of Calculus, but I slowed when I got caught by the masses in the school all headed the same direction.
The crowd was a mess of people walking, yelling, and whispering. I saw some still looking at their phones—the video, no doubt—and some people were calling my name, but I ignored them.
Where the fuck was everyone going?
And that’s when I remembered.
The auditorium.
We were having that assembly this morning.
On bullying.
I ran my fingers through my hair, hard enough to massage my scalp, and let out a long, tired breath.
Great. I think I’d enjoy cutting off my arm and rubbing salt in it more.
Dammit.
I charged and weaved as quickly as I could through the long line of students trying to make their way through the two sets of double doors to the auditorium.
“Jared,” someone called out, but I waved them off without looking.
Tate was in here somewhere, so I scanned the rows as I walked down the aisles. We boasted about two thousand students at our school, but the freshmen were at a separate assembly in the gym, so this crowd wasn’t as thick as it usually was.
Looking for blonde hair was a nightmare. I’d really never noticed how many blondes we had until now.
But I knew Tate.
And I’d know her when I saw her, so I surveyed quickly before we were ordered to sit down.
Walking down the center aisle and back up, I felt my heart race when I saw her purple Chuck poking into the center aisle. Her legs were crossed, and one foot darted out of the row.
Quickly, I walked up the violet colored carpet path and placed my hands on her arm rest, leaning down.
“We need to talk.” I spoke low. “Now.”
Her blue eyes narrowed on me, and my mouth went dry.
My voice had sounded like a warning, and I was just digging myself in deeper here.
Calm down, man. My stomach tightened, and I didn’t know if I liked the drama, or if I was just so used to it. But it was something I did well, so I engaged her.
This wasn’t the time or place, but fuck it.
“Now, you want to talk,” she taunted, and I noticed Jess Cullen, her cross-country captain, sitting next to her, completely still as she watched us.
Tate stared ahead, refusing to look at me. “You get to react and behave without any by-your-leave from anyone else, but I’m supposed to drop my shit when you want my attention.”
It wasn’t a question. It was an assessment.
“Tatum—”
“Now I’m Tatum,” she sneered and looked at Jess. “Funny how that works, isn’t it?” she asked.
“What are you mad about? Last night wasn’t to hurt you.”
I gripped the arm rest tighter. I loved her anger. Always had.
Our first kiss on the sink ledge, and I was hers.
But, right
now, she wasn’t angry so much as she was distant. Her chin was tipped down, and she still hadn’t looked at me.
That, I didn’t like.
“You don’t involve me,” she spoke, barely unclenching her teeth. “You don’t share anything with me until you run the risk of losing me. Everything is on your terms…on your schedule. I’m always on the outside, and I have to push my way in.”
Her face was as hard as stone as she gazed out in front of her. “I’ll talk to you, Jared. Just not now. And not for a while. I need some time to think.”
“To come to your own conclusions,” I accused.
“No choice when I’m the only one in the relationship. You humiliated me in the hallway before. Again! You throw me under the bus for your own amusement. When have you ever sacrificed yourself for me?” her calm voice spit back at me.
Air poured in and out of my lungs, thick and painful.
I’d barely gotten her back.
She doubted me. Doubted my commitment to her.
And how could I blame her?
Why should she trust me? I’d told her I loved her. I’d tried to show her. But I’d never shown her that I would put her first.
She’d seen me with my hands all over a ton of girls that weren’t her.
She’d felt the pain, time and again, as I’d thrown her to the wolves and made her a joke in front of everyone.
She’d seen me delight in her tears and isolation.
At that moment, the full consequences of my actions descended on my body like a pile of garbage, and I was buried.
Son of a bitch.
How had she ever forgiven me at all?
“Everyone get seated,” a male voice, probably the principal, shouted over the mic, and I finally blinked.
I’m always on the outside, and I have to push my way in.
I kept telling myself that she was mine.
And I’d told her that I had always been hers.
But she didn’t feel it.
With my heart jackhammering through my chest and a fog in my head, convincing me not to think about what I was going to do, I walked down the aisle and climbed the stairs up to the stage.
Principal Masters twisted his head towards me, away from the audience.
His graying brownish hair was slicked back, and his gray suit was already wrinkled. This guy didn’t like me, but he’d cut me a lot of breaks over the years, thanks to Madoc and his father.
“You’re not going to ruin my day, are you, Mr. Trent?” he asked, almost whiny, as if he was resigned that I was indeed going to pull some bullshit.
I gestured to the mic in his hand. “Can I have a couple of minutes? On the mic?” My throat was like a desert, and I was nervous as hell.
I fucking owned this school, but there was only one person in it I cared about right now.
Would she stay or walk out?
Masters looked at me like I was two years old and I’d just colored all over the wall.
“I’ll behave,” I assured him. “It’s important. Please?”
I think it was the ‘please’ that got him, because he raised his eyebrows in surprise.
“Don’t make me regret this. You have three minutes.” And he handed me the mic.
Whistles and other remarks floated around the room as the whole place came to a hush. I didn’t even have to say anything to get their attention.
Everyone here knew that I was low-key. I only spoke when it suited me, and I never sought attention.
Which was why this was going to be fucking hard.
The amount of blood pumping through my heart may have been what was making me a little light-headed, but I lifted my chin and slowed my breathing.
I found Tate—the only person in the room—and I let her in.
“I murdered a teddy bear when I was eight,” I said matter-of-factly. Guys hollered their approval, while girls erupted in “aw’s”. “I know, I know,” I started slowly pacing the stage. “I was a dick even then, right?”
People laughed.
“I cut the poor thing to pieces and tossed it in the trash. When my mother found out what I’d done, she was horrified. Like I’d turn to animal cruelty next or something. If she only knew…”
“The thing is,” I spoke to Tate, but I said it to everyone. “The teddy bear was something I loved. More than anything at that time. He was tan with brown ears and paws. His name was Henry. I slept with him until I was way too old.”
I shook my head, embarrassed, while the guys snorted and laughed, and the girls mooned. “One day, these kids down my street caught me carrying the bear around, and they started making fun of me. Calling me a pussy, a baby, looking at me like I was a freak. So I threw the bear in the trash. But that night, I went back out and got it again. The next day, I tried burying it in a box in the attic.”
I looked to Tate again. Her eyes were on me, and she was listening, so I kept going.
“Maybe if I knew it was near, but not gone, then I’d be able to live without it. But that didn’t work either. So after a few days of failing to sleep on my own, to be strong without the stupid animal, I decided to massacre it. If it was beyond repair, then it would be useless to me. I’d have to get by. There wouldn’t be any choice.”
Tate.
“So I took some garden sheers and chopped it to pieces. Cut off the legs. Memories gone. Snip off the arms. Attachment gone. Throw it in the trash. Weakness…gone.”
I looked down, and my voice cracked, remembering how I’d felt like someone had died when I did that.
“I cried the whole first night,” I added, taking a deep breath and clearing the ache in my throat. “It wasn’t until two years later that I found something that I loved more than Henry. I met a girl who became my best friend. So much so, that I even wanted her by me at night. I’d sneak into her room, and we’d fall asleep together. I didn’t need her so much as she just became a part of me. I was wanted, loved, and accepted.”
My eyes were only on Tate now. She was planted in her seat, completely still.
“She’d look at me, and I’d stop dead in my tracks, never wanting to leave that moment. Do you know what that’s like?” I scanned the audience. “Day in and day out, you’re thrilled to be alive and experience a million moments of love and happiness that constantly compete with each other. Every day was better than the last.”
Shit got blurry, and I realized I was tearing up, but I didn’t care.
“But just like Henry,” my voice got strong again, “I concluded that my attachment to her made me weak. I thought I wasn’t strong enough if I needed anything or anyone, so I let her go.” I shook my head. “No, I pushed her, actually. Away. Out. Over the edge.”
“I abused her. Cut her to pieces, so our friendship would be beyond repair.” Just like the bear. “I called her names, spread rumors to get people to hate her, kicked her out and isolated her. I hurt her, not because I hated her, but because I hated that I wasn’t strong enough to not love her.”
The whole room was as silent as a graveyard. People who had laughed, weren’t laughing anymore. People who weren’t paying attention, were now.
“Now, I could go on about mommy didn’t love me and daddy hit me, but who doesn’t have a story, right?” I asked. “There are times when we can blame a situation on others, but we own our reactions to them. There comes a point where we are the ones responsible for our choices and excuses don’t carry weight anymore.”
I’d just aired my business to the whole school. They knew I was a bully. A jerk. But the only good opinion I needed was hers.
Descending the stairs, mic in hand, I walked up the aisle towards my girl.
And I spoke only to her.
“I can’t change the past, Tate. I wish I could, because I’d go back and relive every day that I existed without you, and I’d make sure that you smiled.” My eyes burned with regret, and I saw the pools in her beautiful blues, too. “Every minute of my future belongs to you.”
I crouched down next to her ch
air, thankful to see my world back in her eyes, and placed one knee on the floor.
“I’ll do anything to be good for you, Tate.”
Leaning into me, she buried her face in my neck, shaking with the release of her tears. I breathed her in and wrapped my arms around her.
This was it.
Home.
“Anything, baby,” I promised.
She leaned back and wiped her eyes with her thumb, sobbing and smiling at the same time.
“Anything?” she laughed out, her eyes bright with happiness and love.
I nodded.
Her forehead pressed into mine as she held my face in her hands and asked, “Have you ever considered a nipple piercing?”
Oh, for Christ’s sake.
I choked out a laugh and kissed her hard, much to the pleasure of the roaring crowd around us.
Such a handful.
You wanted an Epilogue, right? You wanted to see them in college or ten years down the road with their kids? I know, I know, but you’ll just have to wait. Jared and Tate will be featured in my upcoming stories, so stay tuned!
Please follow the author for news on her upcoming releases:
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/PenelopeDouglasAuthor
Twitter: @PenDouglas
Website: www.penelopedouglasauthor.com
Please turn the page for a sneak peek at Madoc’s story, Rival, coming in late summer 2014.
“Fuck,” I breathed out. “Could she move any slower?!” I asked Jared as I sat in the backseat of Tate’s R8 with my hands locked on top of my head.
She twisted around from the driver’s seat, her eyes sharp like she wanted to drive a knife right through my skull. “I’m heading around a sharp turn at nearly fifty miles an hour on an unstable dirt road!” she yelled at me. “This isn’t even a real race. I. Told. You. That. Before!” Every muscle in her face was as stiff as steel as she chewed me out.
I dropped my head back and let out a sigh. Jared sat in front of me with his elbow in the door and his head in his hand.
It was Saturday afternoon, the day of Tate’s first real race, and we’d been on Route Five for the last three hours. Every time the little twerp down-shifted too soon or didn’t hit the gas fast enough, Jared kept quiet, but not me.
Until You Page 30
