Bully: Chapter 18
Bully (The Fall Away Series Book 1)
âHey, did you get my text?â Ben rested his hand on my shoulder as he came around to face me.
âYeah.â I vaguely remembered some sweet words about being anxious to see me again. âBut not until much later. I went to bed early.â
Iâd finally fallen back asleep last night at about two oâclock and woke up at four with a stomach full of knots. After my disgusting behavior yesterday in class and the way Iâd gotten sidetracked from my goals, I decided to give up the tough-girl act. His game was too hard, and I was turning into a person I didnât like.
I needed to talk to K.C., but I wasnât sure how to handle her. My temper still flared over the idea of her and Jared dating, but one thing she said made sense. This anger wasnât getting me anywhere, and I wanted to move on. I just didnât know if I could without holding a grudge.
âSo would you like to go out this weekend? Thereâs a bonfire at Tyler Hitchenâs place on Friday night after the race.â
âIâd love to, but Iâm so swamped right now. Iâll have to see how my week goes.â I closed the locker door and began inching away.
âCan I help with anything?â Benâs knit his eyebrows together in concern. It was sweet and made me smile.
âWell, you canât run my laps for me, or do my Math or Science, or take my tests, so youâre pretty useless.â
âYes, yes, I am. I see youâve been talking to my mom.â His eyes shined with amusement, and his grin was teasing. âTry to make yourself free. Itâll be fun.â
Hannah the Bitch walked by us with her crew, and they threw Ben some sultry looks of the you-donât-even-need-to-buy-me-dinner variety. Their antics were so transparent. Flipping hair and biting your bottom lip? Really? Who does that? She slapped me with an âLâ for loser, and I flipped her off behind Benâs back as they walked past.
I guess I should be delighted that a guy like Ben wanted to date me. Hannah, and probably most of the other girls in this school, would be grateful to have his attention. He was attentive and behaved like a gentleman. I enjoyed spending time with him. It was just taking longer than I thought it would to develop a spark.
âFine,â I answered. âIâll try.â
He took my bag and walked me to Physics. âMeet you at lunch?â He looked at me expectantly.
âSure. Iâll be sitting outside today.â His presence would be welcome. I might need a buffer between K.C. and myself if I lost my temper again.
âSee you there.â His voice was low and warm. Arriving at class, he handed me my bag and backed away, heading off down the hall.
I wished I was more into Ben. Maybe I just needed to get to know him better.
The surprise Physics quiz burned panic right through my bones. Luckily, it was enough to take my mind off my personal life. Iâd done the reading and completed the questions this morning in my haze, but I still felt unprepared.
The running we did in P.E. afterwards let off the steam of the morning. Even though Coach was testing us on our mile run time, and I completed that in six minutes flat, she let me keep running. The burn in my muscles singed off the frustration and hurt of Jaredâs words last night that had been floating through my head all morning.
I wouldnât care if you were alive or dead. My heels dug into the dirt as I envisioned digging his grave.
âHey, you guys.â K.C. came up behind Ben and me where we sat at a picnic table outside, eating our lunch.
âHi,â I said through a mouthful of pasta salad, unable to meet her eyes.
âSo how are you doing, Ben? Ready for the game Friday?â
âIâm not as worried about the game as I am the race later that night. Iâve got some money riding on Wonderboy in there.â Her jerked his thumb towards to cafeteria, referring to Jared, I would assume.
âOh, well heâs a safe bet.â She smirked and waved her hand in the air. âIâll be at the race, too. Are you bringing Tate?â Her gaze slid to me.
âI didnât think sheâd enjoy the race, but Iâm trying to get her to the bonfire afterwards.â
K.C. narrowed her eyes at me as she mixed a flavored powder into her water. âTate knows a lot about cars. She would love it,â she pointed out.
âGuys, Iâm sitting right here. Talk to me, morons.â I barked sarcastically at the both of them, feeling like they were the parents discussing what to do with the child.
Ben tucked my hair behind my ear, and I jerked a little with the intimate gesture.
âSorry, Tate. As I was saying, you love cars. Did you know that, Ben?â
âI didnât. Well, she has to come with me then.â He grinned while popping a Cheetoh in his mouth, and I felt squeezed like the cream in an Oreo cookie. They were pushing me.
Like every other time weâd been in a social setting in the past, Jared had done something to ruin it. Why bother?
Looking at K.C., I geared up for verbal sparring. âYou expect me to come to the Loop and cheer for Jared?â
âNo, but Iâd love you to be there with me since I wonât know anyone. You can see the race, check out the cars, and explain to me the difference between a battery and an engine. I never understood that. If you have a battery, then why do you need an engine?â
Ben and I burst out laughing. She was being purposely dimwitted to get me to be agreeable. I wanted to go, but I knew K.C. would be all over Jared. If I wanted to spend time with her, then Iâd have to be around him. I couldnât hang pathetically on Ben all night.
âI told Ben Iâd see how my week went. I have a lot to do right now.â While I was caught up on my homework, I wanted to get ahead on some reading and get to the library to research on the Science topics so I could make my final decision. Not to mention, I needed to be at school by seven on Saturday morning to catch the bus for a cross country meet in Farley. Itâs not like I was trying to avoid Jared.
âAnd I know what that means.â K.C. picked up her phone and started scrolling, clearly pissed.
Sheâs pissed at me? Screw that.
âK.C.!â My mood turned as black as my finger nails. âI said I would try. Jesus.â
âIâm just sayingââ her eyes never leaving her phoneâ âthat I think if it werenât for Jared, then you would go. You have to try, Tate. He said he wouldnât have any problem with you being there.â
My face flushed with embarrassment, I glanced at Ben. I never aired my dirty laundry for others to witness. âOh, he wouldnât have any problem with me being there? I guess since I have the dickheadâs permission, then I should fall on my knees with gratitude.â
âWell, Jared isnât the race master, and doesnât say whoâs in or out. I can invite who I like,â Ben assured as he got up. âI need a Gatorade. Do either of you need anything?â he asked, probably looking for an escape while K.C. and I settled our little argument.
âIâll take a water.â I reached into my pocket to dig out some money.
âNo, no. I got it.â He walked off inside the cafeteria. My gaze followed him as I appreciated how nice he looked in his jeans. Well, there was that at least.
K.C.âs voice broke my trance. âSo if Jaredâs a dickhead, then what am I for seeing him?â K.C.âs voice was calm, but I could tell by her point-blank stare and pursed lips that anger boiled underneath.
Jared was a dickhead. It wasnât an assumption but a proven fact. My frustration with her spending time with that asshole started to escape me. I was trying to grab my anger before it got out of control, but the damn thing kept slipping away.
âYou tell me. Heâs a prick. You know it, and I know it.â What the hell was I doing? âBut what you donât realize is that he using you. Heâs using you to get under my skin. He cares about you as much as Liam did when he cheated.â
Shit! Too far.
I was done for. The look on her face punctured my chest. Iâd hurt her, and I hoped she would huff and puff and eventually see reason. But the look in her eyes left me with only doubt.
After a few momentsâ hesitation, she started packing up her things and grabbing her tray. âYou know, Jared asked me to sit with him today, and right now I want his company a lot more than I do yours.â She spat out her words before leaving. And I let her leave, because I understood her disappointment. Right now, I didnât even like myself.
***
As much as I tried to take part in a conversation when Ben returned, my mind was too focused on rewriting the argument with K.C. My dad always told me that I can say what I need to say as long as I say it nicely.
And fuck me for snarling out my words like a five year old.
I couldâve handled it so much better. You know what they say about best laid plans? My emotions got away from me, and she probably went to cry on Jaredâs shoulder. Iâll bet he was lapping this up.
As I pushed through AP English and Government, I was already yawning with exhaustion and was in no way energized for practice or the dinner out that my grandmother had planned.
âSit down everyone, please!â Mrs. Penley shouted over the clatter of moving desks and laughter. We had just finished our discussion on the assigned chapters in Catcher in the Rye and were moving our desks back to normal position. The class was energized about the story. Half of them, I think, were thankful that it wasnât a farming story like they thought, and everyone liked the idea of the rebellious teenager who smoked too many cigarettes.
The discussion had sucked for me. Weâd been forced to move our desks into a circle, so that we could make eye contact with anyone that spoke. Jared kept flashing me smirks, no doubt fully informed of his progress on Operation Kill Tate and K.C.
The silvery feeling coursing down my arms and legs made me want to scream until the force of my upset made him magically disappear.
I wouldnât care if you were alive or dead.
I hated admitting to myself that I did care whether he was alive or dead. Iâd been stung every day he didnât want me near him.
But that baggage that you arenât letting out is weakening you. Grandma was right. I was in no better position now than I was before I decided to fight back.
âNow, class,â Mrs. Penley instructed from the front of the classroom. âBefore we copy down assignments for homework, I want to touch base about your monologues. Remember, these are due in two weeks. Iâll have a sign-up sheet outside the door, and you can pick your day. Your monologue can be from the list I gave you or you can choose another one with my approval. Now, Iâm not looking for Oscar-worthy performances,â she reassured, âso donât get scared. This isnât theater after all. Just perform the monologue and turn in the essay using the rubric I gave you explaining how that monologue reinforces the theme of the book or film.â Mrs. Penley drifted off as people started to get out notebooks and copy down the assignment from the board.
Acting like you donât care is not letting it go.
Isnât it about time you fought back?
I want your heart to be free.
Weariness wadded my heart. I turned around to look at Jared. His eyes lifted from his notebook, and his eyes sharpened on me.
I wanted to walk down the hall and know there was no pain around the next corner. I wanted him to stop. And yes, I admitted, I wanted to know him again.
But that baggage that you arenât letting out is weakening you.
Before I could stop myself, I turned back around and thrust my hand in the air. Tightness knotted my stomach as I felt like Iâd stepped into someone elseâs dream. âMrs. Penley?â
âYes, Tate?â Mrs. Penley was standing at her desk, writing something on a post-it.
âWe have five minutes left of class. May I perform my monologue now?â I sensed eyes and ears shifting my way, the whole class focusing its attention on me.
âUm, well, I wasnât expecting to grade anything yet? Do you have your essay ready?â Mrs. Penley stuck the pen in her hand into her tight bun.
âNo, Iâll have that by the due date, but I would really love to perform it now. Please.â
I watched the wheels turn in her head as she probably worried if I was prepared, but I flashed my pleading eyes on her to hopefully make her see that I wanted to get this over with.
âOkay,â she exhaled, âif youâre sure youâre ready.â She motioned for me to come up front, while she moved aside to lean against the wall.
I rose from my chair and walked to the front of class, feeling the burn of looks on my back. Turning to face everyone, my heart pounded like a jackhammer in my chest. I swept my eyes across the room before beginning. If I didnât meet his eyes, I could do this.
âI like storms,â I started. âThunder, torrential rain, puddles, wet shoes. When the clouds roll in, I get filled with this giddy expectation.â
Just keep going, Tate. I tried to envision that I was speaking to my dad or grandma. Keep it natural.
âEverything is more beautiful in the rain. Donât ask me why.â My shoulders shrugged. âBut itâs like this whole other realm of opportunity. I used to feel like a superhero, riding my bike over the dangerously slick roads, or maybe an Olympic athlete enduring rough trials to make it to the finish line.â
My smile spread with the memories. Memories of Jared and me.
âOn sunny days, as a girl, I could still wake up to that thrilled feeling. You made me giddy with expectation, just like a symphonic rainstorm. You were a tempest in the sun, the thunder in a boring, cloudless sky.â
âI remember Iâd shovel in my breakfast as fast as I could, so I could go knock on your door. Weâd play all day, only coming home for food and sleep. We played hide and seek, youâd push me on the swing, or weâd climb trees. Being your sidekick gave me a sense of home again.â
I exhaled, finally relaxing, and my eyes drifted over to meet his. I saw him watching me, breathing hard, almost as if he was frozen. Stay with me, Jared.
âYou see,â my eyes stayed on him, âwhen I was ten, my mom died. She had cancer, and I lost her before I really knew her. My world felt so insecure, and I was scared. You were the person that turned things right again. With you, I became courageous and free. It was like the part of me that died with my mom came back when I met you, and I didnât hurt anymore. Nothing hurt if I knew I had you.â Pools of tears filled my eyes as the class leaned in to listen to me.
âThen one day, out of the blue, I lost you, too. The hurt returned, and I felt sick when I saw you hating me. My rainstorm was gone, and you became cruel. There was no explanation. You were just gone. And my heart was ripped open. I missed you. I missed my mom.â My voice cracked, and I didnât wipe away the tear that fell.
âWhat was worse than losing you was when you started to hurt me. Your words and actions made me hate coming to school. They made me uncomfortable in my own home.â I swallowed, and the knot in my chest lessened.
âEverything still hurts, but I know none of it is my fault. There are a lot of words that I could use to describe you, but the only one that includes sad, angry, miserable, and pitiful is âcoward.â In a year, Iâll be gone, and youâll be nothing but some washout whose height of existence was in high school.â My eyes were still on Jared, and my voice got strong again. The ache in my face from trying to hold back tears eased. âYou were my tempest, my thunder cloud, my tree in the downpour. I loved all those things, and I loved you. But now? Youâre a fucking drought. I thought that all the assholes drove German cars, but it turns out that pricks in Mustangs can still leave scars.â
Looking around the class, I noticed everyone leaned in and quiet. One girl was tearing up. I finished wiping a tear from my cheeks and grinned. âAnd Iâd like to thank the Academyâ¦â
Everyone started laughing, coming out of their trance from my serious and sad story, and began clapping and cheering. My head fell back to look up at the ceiling before I took a dramatic and sarcastic bow making my classmates giggle more. The deafening applause distracted me from the wobbliness in my legs.
This was it. Jared could push me, hurt me, take what he wanted, but showing him that he had hurt, but not broken me, was how I won. Euphoria settled in my stomach as waves of contentment washed over me.
Free.
âWhat was that monologue from? Mrs. Penley, she made people cry! How is anyone going to live up to that? And weâre allowed to swear?â One of the girls from my compass jokingly complained.
âIâm sure youâll do fine, and Tate, that was wonderful. You really set the bar. I donât remember that one on the list, though, so I trust everything will be in your essay?â
I nodded as I headed back to my seat, figuring Iâd deal with that part later. The bell rung and people started for the door, ready to be done with the day.
âGreat job, Tate!â
âWow!
People Iâd never spoken to patted me on the back and offered compliments. Jared drifted out of class, like the fuse on a stick of dynamite. Only this time, I was free from the explosion. I let him go, not even sparing any effort to make it look like I didnât care.
Iâd bared my soul up there, and now the ball was in his court.
âTate.â Ben walked up to my desk as I grabbed my bag. âThat was great. Are you sure you want to waste your time on medicine and not go into theater or something?â He took my bag off my shoulder and hung it over his own.
I headed for the door as he followed behind.
âAre you okay? You were crying.â He sounded genuinely concerned.
I turned to face him and plastered a no-effort grin on my face. âIâm great. And I would love to go to the race with you this weekend.â
He looked surprised by my change of subject, but his eye lit up as he grabbed my hand. âOkay! Butâ¦you know you have to wear a really short skirt, right? Itâs kind of a uniform for the girls.â He teased, and I could tell he was being flirty.
âWell, Iâm a rebel, or didnât you know?â
We pushed through the door, hand in hand. My eyes shot to Jared, who had his forehead leaned into the wall. He turned around, and I noticed that the whites of his eyes were red. Hands tucked into the front pocket of his black hoodie, he was breathing like heâd just run a mile. Other than that, there was no emotion. He didnât look upset or happy. Nothing.
âSee ya, Jared,â Ben called out as we passed, oblivious to what had just passed between Jared and me in the classroom.
Jared didnât reply but kept his eyes focused on me. For once, there was no anger or cruelty in his stare.
What was happening in his head?
And would I ever find out?