by Rina Kent
Camden finally got his wish. I was about to cry, and it had nothing to do with anything he’d done.
This was on me.
“I can get the grade up,” I choked out. No tears had spilled, but the gleam over my eyes blurred Mr. Hines’s image.
“Not in time for the concert. You’re on suspension for a minimum of two weeks.”
“Let me talk to Mrs. Morris.”
“No.” There was a bite to his tone that had my heart sinking. It was already decided.
What would Berklee think?
He sighed and picked up his bag, throwing it over his shoulder. It was only the two of us left in the auditorium. “Get the grade up, and you’ll be able to play at the Christmas concert. You’re going to practice with us, but Eden?”
I swallowed and rubbed underneath my eyes. “Yes?”
“You’re still going to need to earn back your chair when it’s all said and done, is that understood?”
I nodded. I had a limited number of words I could choke out before I’d lose it.
“Good.” Mr. Hines gave my shoulder a squeeze. He was a hard man and an even harder conductor, but he knew what this meant to me. “I suggest you start bringing your cello home instead of hiding it here, then.”
I nodded once again and took a strangled breath as Mr. Hines stepped around me. His leather shoes echoed on the marble stage, and a minute later the metal door clanged shut in the distance.
It was just me left, standing and staring out at the empty seats, knowing I’d be sitting in one next Saturday while the rest of the orchestra played without me. The rush I’d have felt, the joy. It was gone. It was only me and a black hole of nothingness.
I felt like I was free falling. My arms were flailing, I was screaming, but nothing I did would keep me from splatting on the concrete. There was nothing to grab onto. No safety net. No plan B.
The metal door creaked open and slammed, and I wiped underneath my eyes before picking up my cello case and walking toward the door. I expected Mr. Hines to appear on the stage, telling me I needed to leave. That I couldn’t just stand there all night, wallowing in pity.
He’d have been right.
It wasn’t Mr. Hines who appeared. It was Hunter O’Reilly. I flinched back when I spotted him coming onto the stage. A red rose dangled from his fingers, and his blond shaggy hair was still damp from what I assumed was his after-practice shower.
“Hey,” he said, his lips spreading into a small smile. “Football practice ran late today. I was afraid I’d miss you.”
I brought the cello in front of me and took a step back. Tears still clung to my lashes, and I resisted the urge to brush them away.
He took a step closer, his brow furrowing when he noticed the tears, my flushed cheeks and tensed shoulders. All that time I spent trying to look strong, and it was all shattered in one moment.
“What do you want, Hunter?” I asked, giving in and wiping underneath my eyes while my other hand still held the cello. I sniffled and turned my head away from him, facing the seats. I couldn’t stand to see the amusement I knew would be stenciled into that tanned, pretty boy face.
“I wanted to apologize.”
That didn’t sound like he was amused.
I turned back to him and tilted my head, taking in his serious expression. His lips were in a tight line, and the rose was held loosely at his side.
“Today at lunch, that wasn’t funny. None of this shit is funny… I’m sorry, Eden. Truly. I don’t know why Cam is taking this so far.”
Hunter stepped toward me. My instincts told me to run the other way, but I kept my feet planted on the marble. Hunter was a snake. An asshole. A jock. Hell, a rapist. He was no better than the rest of them… but he was apologizing. And fuck, it felt good.
Was this a trick?
He paused less than a foot in front of me and sighed. “I’m going to talk to him.”
Him. As in Camden.
“You’re the one that pulled off my clothes. You—”
“I was pissed,” he said, that small smile disappearing. “After you called the cops, I’m not gonna lie, I wanted to get back at you.” He looked over my shoulder for a minute and shook his head. “But you’re right, that was way too far. I don’t know how I let Cam talk me into that.”
Talked him into it? So it really was all Camden’s idea?
Why? Why did Camden hate me so much? Why did he want to hurt me?
Maybe this was him, too. Maybe Camden sent Hunter to try and get to me because he hadn’t been able to himself. Or at least he thought he wasn’t able to. My eyes burned more, but this time it had nothing to do with my academic suspension.
He’d gotten to me. Just like he wanted. My body heated for him. My thoughts were invaded by him.
I’d almost let him kiss me.
“Did Camden talk you into raping Jade as well?” The venom that filtered in melted away some of my self-pity, and I welcomed it. I didn’t know what was going on, but I wasn’t about to fall victim to Hunter O’Reilly.
He took a step back and ran a hand through his hair. “Jade and I hooked up, Eden. Seriously, please stop saying that.”
“You can’t hook up with someone who’s unconscious.”
His eyes narrowed. “Would you drop the good girl act? She was awake when she said yes. We’re not dating, you don’t need to worry about her—”
“I’m not fucking jealous of you having sex with Jade!” I was getting hysterical. The tears I had been holding back streamed down my cheeks, and I could no longer pinpoint why. I wasn’t sad. I was pissed. Frustrated. Tired. Desperate. And alone. “How can you not see that what you did was wrong? You’re pathetic. Jade’s pathetic. Camden’s pathetic. Your entire group is pathetic!”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” My tone was sharp. Certain.
“Well, what are you, Eden? The school slut?” He laughed and waved his hands around, gesturing to the auditorium. “A fuckin’ band geek?” Hunter tossed the rose to the marble and took another step back. “You know, I really did come here to say I was sorry, but you’re not worth the trouble.”
He turned and started walking away. His form was blurry, but I still stared after him.
I didn’t like him. Hunter O’Reilly was the scum of the earth to me, and that couldn’t possibly change.
But he said he’d talk to Camden. He said he was sorry. Admitted that it’d gone too far.
What if he wasn’t lying?
What if he could stop it?
“Hunter,” I called after him, my feet still glued to the floor.
He paused and glanced over his shoulder. “What?” His face was hardened with anger, and his voice matched it. Or maybe it was just annoyance.
Two words. That’s what it would take to calm Hunter’s anger, to get him to pity me. He wasn’t like Camden. He was an asshole, but an asshole with a conscience. He truly didn’t see his actions with Jade as wrong, and my accusation made him livid. He had almost the same amount of power as Camden. He had influence.
He could stop this.
All I needed to do was say two words.
“I’m sorry.” They tasted bitter on my tongue. My throat closed up as if rejecting them. As if I was being punished by not being allowed to speak any more.
He sighed and turned before walking back over to me. His face had softened, and he tucked his hands into his letter jacket’s pockets.
I swiped the back of my hand over my cheeks and met him halfway. This was an all new low for me, one I never saw myself resorting to. I was about to seek out help from Hunter. I had nothing else to lose but everything to gain.
“I just want it to stop,” I whispered, dropping my cello case. The crash echoed around the auditorium, but not nearly loud enough to drown out my shame. “Please, stop with the name calling. The pranks. The mind games. Please, Hunter, please just leave me alone.”
No matter how many times I wiped away the tears, new ones surfaced. A flood gate had opened and my deepest fear
in that moment was that it’d never close.
Hunter sighed and put his hands on my shoulder. I tensed, my body screaming at me to pull back, but I refrained. My body eventually relaxed, and I fell into his chest, wrapping my arms around him and crying onto his letter jacket.
“It’s all right, Eden,” he said, rubbing his hand along my back.
It felt good. Damn, I hated to admit it. The shred of kindness, the reassurance, I needed it more than I needed to breathe. That boulder that had been weighing me down had finally crushed me.
And Hunter O’Reilly was the one there to pick up the pieces.
What. The. Fuck.
I cried harder onto his chest and sank my nails into his jacket. He was warm. He didn’t ignite heat in me like Camden did, but he was comfortable. Safer. Nicer. Maybe I’d been wrong about him.
“I’m going to talk to my friends, all right?” He ran his hand up the back of my neck, making a trail of goosebumps, before he reached my ponytail and tugged it loose. My hair fell into a veil around my face and I leaned back to peer at him. My hair tie was on the ground.
“You’ll tell them to stop?”
“Yeah,” he said, brushing away my tears with his knuckles. He gave me a faint smile and fingered a lock of my hair. “Of course.”
It hit me all at once. The closeness of our bodies, his touch, the way he was looking at me. It swallowed the comfort I’d received from him only moments ago and had me blushing and taking a step back. My skin itched at the memory of his touch, begging me to scratch the sensation away.
“Thanks.” I pulled my hair over my left shoulder and tucked the loose strands behind my ear. “I should probably get home.”
His smile fell a little, but he nodded. “Sure, let me walk you out.” Picking up my cello case, he started walking from the auditorium with me right behind him.
We made it to the parking lot before I remembered my trig notes were in my locker. I had a test on Monday and needed to be studying every minute I was capable.
I was getting my chair back.
“Shit,” I said, pausing and glancing toward the school. The auditorium wasn’t connected, and the school locked at five o’clock. It was almost six.
“What?” Hunter peered over his shoulder at me before following my gaze.
“I just... I forgot my trig notes. I really have to study.” I shook my head, trying not to hate myself too badly, and continued on toward my car. “Damn it.”
This carelessness was what got me in this position in the first place.
Do better, Eden.
I looked back when I realized Hunter hadn’t continued with me.
“I have an idea,” he said, holding my cello case out to me. I took it, my eyes narrowed in confusion. “Go put that in your car, then meet me by the front door.”
“What are you—”
“Just trust me.” He gave me a wink before breaking out into a jog toward the school.
I watched him for a moment before turning and heading back toward my car. I had no idea what he was about to do, but if it granted me access to my locker, then I was all for it. Grateful, even.
I made it to my car and stuffed the cello in the backseat before speed walking over to the school. Hunter wasn’t there.
I waited by the door for ten minutes or so before Hunter came jogging around the corner, something in his hand.
“Got ‘em.” He slowed to walk when he had just about reached me.
“Got what?”
“The keys to the school.” He flashed me a bright smile before holding up a keyring. It jingled as he shook it.
My jaw dropped and I followed him to the door. I glanced around, as if waiting for someone to come around the corner any minute, demanding Hunter give the keys back. “How did you get those?”
“I have my ways.” He glanced at me and winked. The lock disengaged, and he pushed the door open, sweeping his hand out in front of him like some grand gesture. “After you.”
This had been one of the worst days of my life. Less than an hour ago, I’d just been delivered soul crushing news, I’d broken down and cried, and still, I found myself smiling.
I rushed into the school, my eyes darting around in case anyone was still there. Teachers and janitors still had access to the school, even after the doors were locked. Was that how Hunter got the keys? It looked like a janitor’s ring he was holding. Whatever, I didn’t even care. A surge of adrenaline rushed through me as I made my way to my locker.
I gently lifted the handle and creaked the door open as quietly as possible. Hunter chuckled behind me. “You’re adorable, Thompson.”
“Shut up,” I whispered, only kidding. I looked back at him and smiled so that he knew I didn’t mean it. That I was grateful for this. For the kindness in general.
How far did I have to fall to be thankful for Hunter O’Reilly’s existence?
I grabbed my notes and textbook and shoved them into my bag before glancing around again and shutting the locker. We walked together out of the school, my pace noticeably more hurried than Hunter’s.
When we made it outside, I turned back to him and beamed. “Okay, really, where did you get the keys?”
“A gentleman never tells,” he joked, turning his back to me to lock the door.
When he faced me again, he gave my shoulder a pat. “Stay tough, Eden. Everything’s going to be all right. I gotta get these back, but you’ll think about homecoming, yeah?”
My smile fell at the mention of the dance, and my first instinct was to tell him no… but I didn’t. I found myself nodding. He gave me one last smile before walking away.
“Hunter,” I called after him.
He paused and glanced back.
“Thank you.”
With the lift of his hand, he gave me a salute and kept walking.
Chapter Eleven
Cam
“In five hundred feet, the destination is on your right.”
I gunned the Jeep, the engine revving, and passed a few more houses. Rich houses. In a nice neighborhood. Somehow, that heated my blood even more.
“Arrived.”
I jerked the wheel, veering the Jeep to the side of the road, and slammed on the brakes. My body jolted forward with the sudden stop, and when I slammed back against the seat, I shoved the Jeep into park.
A two-story, Georgian-style, red brick home was just to my right. I pulled up the address Paige had texted me to make sure I had it right.
Yup.
Eden’s family had money? She drove a Corolla.
I glanced back down at my phone’s screen and tapped the back button on Paige’s message. Underneath her name was Hunter’s and his last message to me. The one that had me speeding over here without any sort of plan.
You owe me 100.
The momentary confusion faded, and my eyes narrowed on the house. I grabbed my keys from the ignition and yanked open the door.
You owe me 100.
One hundred dollars. Today, Hunter had told me he was going to ask Eden to homecoming, despite me telling him to stay away from her. Underneath, my blood had simmered, but I’d just laughed. I’d bet him a hundred dollars she wouldn’t give him the time of day. She wouldn’t even consider it. How could she? She hated him. She could see past the superficial charm, the smile, the popularity, the money. She seemed to be looking past it just fine with me.
I was about to lose my fucking mind.
I threw myself out of the Jeep and slammed the door. A few flowerpots sat by the entrance, and I had to restrain myself from kicking them. A vision skated through my mind of picking one up and smashing it on the ground. It would’ve felt good. Better if it had been Hunter’s head.
No. He was my best friend.
She was the problem.
I gave several angry knocks and stepped back from the door, running a hand through my hair and taking a deep breath.
What was I doing here?
The door opened, and I fisted my hands at my sides and stood taller. A mill
ion insults sat on my tongue, ready to fire as soon as I spotted her, but Eden wasn’t the one who appeared in the doorway. It was a boy—maybe ten or eleven. He had blond hair and fair skin that looked nothing like hers, but still, I immediately came to the conclusion that it was her brother.
Right, she had the whole close-knit family thing. Of course she wasn’t home alone.
“H-hi,” I said, my fists unclenching. “Is your sister home?”
I smiled and tried not to look so threatening. He seemed to buy it because he opened the door wider and stepped to the side. “She’s in her room.”
Her room. And where was that?
I stepped into the foyer and glanced around. Her family had money, for sure. The real silk curtains and solid wood floors would’ve hinted at it if the Georgian-style and size hadn’t. But it didn’t have that same rich feel that my house had. It was homier, with pictures hung all over the walls, and a couch in the living room to my left that actually looked like it had been sat on.
“Hello.”
My eyes snapped to a man walking down the hall. He was for the most part bald, but his facial features resembled the kid’s.
Stepdad.
“Hello, sir,” I said, extending my hand.
He shook it when he reached me and gave a warm smile. “Roman.”
“He’s Eden’s friend,” Little Brother piped in.
“Ah, the poet.” Roman’s eyebrows rose and he smiled wider.
What?
“Camden, right?”
I blinked a few times and managed a nod. He knew my name, he knew about the notes. She’d told him about me?
He picked her up from your house yesterday, idiot.
“Well, Camden, it’s nice to meet you. Eden’s upstairs if you want to head up. Did she know you were coming over?”
Okay, seriously, what the fuck?
“Uh, not really.”
His smile turned sad. “She’s studying, but she could really use a friend. It’s been a tough day.”
Because of me. It’s been a tough day because of me. But he doesn’t know that, does he?
“Thanks,” I muttered, and stepped around him to the stairs. “Nice to meet you both.”
