Falling for Hadley: A Novel

  As I trudge after him, Rhyland whispers to me, “Go easy on him this morning, okay? He’s really stressed out about some stuff and is having a rough morning.” He doesn’t wait for me to nod, just waves and takes off down the hallway.

  “You coming?” Blaise asks grumpily from the doorway

  My initial instinct is to fire a snarky remark at him, but Rhyland’s words replay in my head, so I end up just nodding. Call me a softy, but I have a tender spot for people who are stressed out, especially eighteen-year-olds who have guardianship over their younger brothers, and maybe his sister, too.

  While mine and Blaise’s stories aren’t exactly the same, they’re pretty close. What I wonder, though, is: how did he get guardianship of his siblings? Not just in the sense of legal terms, but what led him to the point where things were so bad that he decided he needed to become a parent at eighteen? It’s kind of remarkable when I really think about it, and tragically sad at the same time. That he had to do something so selfless—giving up his future for his siblings. And as much as I’ve despised Blaise over the last week or so, I question if he’s a better person than me in some ways.

  Because, while I may ponder the idea of getting guardianship of my sisters, I’ve never actually looked into it, even with how bad my dad is getting. Instead, I’ve been daydreaming of taking off. Of making my life better.

  Does that make me a bad person? A selfish one?

  I’m not sure, but the thought makes a heavy amount of guilt weigh down on my shoulders.

  Chapter 17

  Blaise and I spend the next ten minutes silently driving toward town in his SUV. He doesn’t even turn the radio on to fill the silence. I’m left wanting to bang my head against the window. Seriously, I’m getting so desperate I’m even starting to miss arguing with him. Plus, he hasn’t told me where we’re going.

  About fifteen minutes into the drive, Blaise receives a text. After reading the message, he mutters, “Fuck, he’s worse than I thought.” Then he drops his phone into the cupholder and grows quiet again.

  Finally, I can’t take the maddening silence and uncertainty anymore.

  “So, are you going to tell me where we’re going and what I’ll be doing for you?”

  His jaw is set tight as he focuses on the road. “I’m still deciding what part I’m going to have you play in this. As for where we’re going, it’s to a house Alex is at.”

  Okay, evasive much?

  “And why are we going there?” I check the time on the dashboard clock. “And how long is this going to take? I’m supposed to drive my sisters to school this morning.”

  “Shit, I didn’t even think about that.” He rakes his fingers through his hair then gives me a sidelong glance. “Can Londyn maybe drive them? This might take a bit.”

  “How long is a bit? Because school starts in less than an hour.”

  He rubs his lips together. “Yeah, you might be a little late.”

  “Being late to school wasn’t part of the deal,” I stress. “And I can’t be late. Not after being tardy to all my morning classes yesterday, and then skipping out on the last half of the day.”

  He looks at me with one hand resting on the wheel. “Yeah, I noticed you weren’t in last period. What was that about?”

  “We have last period together?” I ask, and he nods. I’m not sure whether to frown or not. I don’t know how I feel about him after what I heard last night and with what Rhyland just told me.

  Conflicted. That’s what I am. Conflicted because he sometimes seems like a nice guy, yet seems like an asshole other times.

  The edges of his lips kick up into a smile, but his eyes remain clouded with worry. “Aw, come on. You don’t need to look so sad about it. I promise not to bug you too much. Or, well, at least I’ll try not to.”

  “I’m not sad,” I reply with a shrug. “I’m undecided.”

  His brow meticulously arches. “About what exactly?”

  “About having you in my classes.”

  “Hmmm … Interesting.”

  “No, not really.”

  He assesses me closely. “Actually, it sort of is.”

  I refuse to squirm under his unwavering gaze. “And why’s that?”

  He shrugs, refocusing on the road. “Because, if you’re undecided about me being in another one of your classes, it means you’re undecided about me.”

  “And that’s a good thing because …?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t know.”

  “Okay …” God, this is the most evasive conversation ever.

  We grow silent again as Blaise stares at the road, drumming his fingers on top of the steering wheel. Since it clearly seems like he doesn’t want to talk or give me any sort of confirmation about how long we’re going to be or what we’re even doing, I dig out my phone and send Londyn a text.

  Me: Hey, so I’m gonna need you to drive everyone to school today.

  Londyn: What!? Why?

  Me: Because my first favor is going to probably take too long for me to get back in time.

  Londyn: That’s so not cool. You need to make sure Blaise understands that you can’t be late for school.

  Me: Yeah, I’ll try.

  Londyn: Don’t try. Do.

  Me: All right, boss.

  Londyn: Sorry. I’m not trying to be bossy, but we can’t let these guys walk all over us.

  Me: Hey! Think about who you’re talking to. You know there’s no way I’ll let that happen. Blaise just didn’t inform me until we were way across town that this favor is going to take a while. But I made it clear being late for school is so not cool with me.

  Londyn: Good. You may be in some stupid, twisted bet with him, but that doesn’t mean he gets to mess up school for you. And what are you even doing for him?

  Me: Not sure yet, but I think it has something to do with Alex.

  Londyn: You need to be careful then. He’s the worst. I know he’s the one who put those flyers up.

  Me: Yeah, me, too.

  I want to tell her about the conversation I overheard last night between Alex and Blaise, but I don’t want to think about it myself.

  We text for a bit longer until she finally agrees to drive everyone, and by the time I pocket my phone, Blaise is driving past the last of the houses lining the main road and steering out onto the highway.

  “We’re really far out here,” I comment, glancing at the trees and desolate farmland bordering the road.

  Shit, should I be worried? I mean, I’m a girl in a car alone with a guy who has a questionable police record. Sure, I know some self-defense, but that doesn’t mean I want to put myself in a situation where I’d have to try to use my skills.

  “I’m sorry. This is probably really weird. I know that.” Blaise slows down and flips on the blinker. “I promise nothing bad’s going to happen. Or, well, at least not to you. Alex, on the other hand, is about to get into some deep shit.” He turns down a dirt road that winds into the hills.

  “Why?” I ask, gripping the handle above me as the road becomes bumpy. “What’d he do?”

  He grips the wheel tighter as we hit another bump. “Nothing he hasn’t done before, which is why I’m so pissed off. He never fucking learns his lessons.” He blows out a deafening breath, his gaze sliding to mine. “Look, for my first favor, can you just not tell anyone what you’re about to witness?”

  My nerves rise a notch. “Um, yeah … just as long as it’s not like a hardcore crime where someone’s hurting someone, then yeah, I can do that.”

  “The only person getting hurt is Alex, and he’s doing it to himself,” he replies tightly, his knuckles whitening on the wheel.

  I should feel better. Not telling anyone about this seems like an easy enough favor. And I shouldn’t care that Alex is hurting himself—the guy is a jerk. But the look in Blaise’s eyes … the self-tormenting guilt over something he can’t control … yeah, I’ve been there. With my sisters. With my father. Even with myself sometimes.

  I swallow down the pain c
reeping up on me the best I can as Blaise parks in front of a singlewide trailer at the end of the bumpy road. The siding is peeling off, all the windows are boarded up, and half the roof is covered up with a tarp. The landscaping isn’t any better-looking either; the grass yellowing and covered in old car parts and tires. I’ve lived in my fair share of dumpy places and areas, but this house gives all those a run for their money. I mean, at least the homes we lived in had roofs.

  “So, whose place is this?” I wonder as Blaise silences the engine.

  He makes no move to get out, resting his arms on top of the steering wheel as he stares at the trailer. “It’s an … acquaintance of my father’s.”

  “Oh.” His infamous father, the criminal who my dad might be working for. Lovely.

  Blaise’s gaze skates to me. “From your tone, I’m guessing you’ve heard about my dad.”

  “Well, I did read all that stuff about your family. The internet seems to have a lot to say about him,” I reply nonchalantly.

  “Yeah, I forgot you did that.” He studies me with mild curiosity. “How did you do that anyway? Break into those records?”

  I tap my finger against my lips. “Now, why would I tell you my secrets?”

  “Come on,” he pleads. “In fact, it can be my favor for this morning.”

  I shake my head, tsking him. “Now, Blaise, you only get one a day, and you already used that one.”

  “No one said I only get one a day.” When I still refuse to tell him, he sighs. “Fine, I’ll just ask you again tomorrow.”

  “That’s really how you want to waste your favors?” I ask, digging my sunglasses out of my purse.

  He shrugs, nibbling on his bottom lip as he surveys the trailer. “Seems like as good of a favor as any.”

  “You know, you could always just ask Alex. I mean, I’m sure he can tell you all about my family’s secrets since he gathered all that info for the flyers.”

  Wait. Why am I telling him this?

  Dammit, I really should’ve grabbed some coffee before I left the house. I’m too tired.

  Question marks flood his eyes. “You say that like I didn’t have any part of it, which I did.”

  Liar. But his protective nature toward his brother is something I can respect, so I decide not to tell him I know the truth.

  I pick at my fingernails. “Okay, then maybe you already know the answer.”

  He examines me suspiciously. “What do you know?”

  “I know a lot of things,” I assure him with a sugary sweet smile. “I’m super clever. But I’m sure you’ve already caught on to that. Well, if you’re clever, too.”

  “No, you know something about my family,” he accuses. “I can tell.”

  “Would it matter if I did? I mean, yesterday Alex said it didn’t matter if I told the entire school about your family’s dirty laundry. That people already know everything about your family, and that they respect you too much to do anything. So, what would babbling a dirty little secret about you guys matter?”

  “That’s nowhere near the truth,” he grumbles. “Alex just likes to run his mouth, which usually gets him in trouble.”

  “Trouble like this?” I nod at the house.

  “No, this is trouble he does to himself.”

  I think I’m starting to get the gist of what’s going on inside that trailer, why Blaise had to drive out here. I’m not that surprised. I’ve wondered a few times if Alex was strung out.

  “What’s he on?” I dare ask.

  “What’s he not on?” He sinks back into the seat and looks me straight in the eye. “Look, Hadley, you have to swear to me that you won’t tell anyone about this. I know Alex and I have treated you like shit, but I really need you to do me a solid right now and let what’s about to happen stay between you, me, and Alex, okay? I don’t even want Rhyland to know.”

  “Rhyland doesn’t already know?”

  “Well, he sort of does, but he doesn’t realize how bad Alex is getting. And honestly, I wouldn’t have even brought you out here if I’d known how bad he is going to be … When Rhyland first told me I needed to pick Alex up, I thought he was just hungover. But then Alex messaged me while I was driving up here and … I can tell he’s messed up pretty bad.” His gaze slides to me again, a silent plea filling his eyes. “Can you please just promise me you won’t say anything to anyone about this? Not even your sisters. Alex … he’s been in a lot of trouble, which I’m sure you already know, and if the wrong people find out what he’s messed up in …” He gulps. “Just promise me, okay?”

  I wonder what he means by wrong people. The police? Yeah, I have a feeling there’s more to it than that. I could ask him, but with how hush-hush he’s acting right now, I doubt he’ll tell me.

  “I said I wouldn’t tell anyone, and I meant it,” I assure him. “I may think your brother is an asshole, but I totally understand the whole protective sibling thing. Plus, my dad’s an alcoholic and drug addict, so I have a good idea of how this is going to go down.”

  His brows furrow as he stares at me. “You’re different from what I first thought.”

  “Okay …? Is that a good or bad thing?” Not that I care. I’m just curious.

  “It’s an … undecided thing.”

  “Touché, dude.”

  That makes him chuckle, but only for a brief moment. Then he goes right back into worrying mode, a place I constantly reside.

  Stillness surrounds us, and the longer her remains sitting in the car, the more I wonder what he’s waiting for.

  “Are you going to go in there and get him?” I finally ask. “Or is he supposed to come out here?”

  He checks his phone and frowns. “I’m sure I’m going to have to go in and drag his high-ass out. I’m just giving myself a moment to mentally prepare myself.”

  “For having to deal with him?” That I can understand. I have to do it with my dad all the time.

  “For that and for dealing with the other people inside.”

  “You mean, your father’s acquaintances?”

  He nods, stuffing his phone into his pocket. “They’re complicated to deal with.”

  I rest back in the seat and tuck my legs underneath me. “Why?”

  His brow curves upward as he glances at me. “You ask a lot of questions.”

  “Not normally, but yeah, when someone drives me out to the middle of nowhere to what I’m guessing is a crack house, I start to get a little question-y.”

  “It’s not a crack house,” he swears. “My dad actually owns the home and the land. He lets the people who work for him live here. He owns quite a few houses in Honeyton. All of them equally as shitty as this one, except his own.”

  “Does he own your house?”

  “No, my mom does … or, well, she did until …” He hastily clears his throat. “But yeah, once I turned eighteen, I became the official owner of the shithole that is my home.”

  “That’s pretty cool that you own the place.”

  “I guess.” He shrugs, sadness creeping into his expression. “Sometimes I wish I was living in some shitty apartment in some big-ass city, paying way too much for rent and spending my days doing … well, anything but this.” He clears his throat again then shoves open the door. “But yeah, anyway, I’m going to go drag Alex out. Be back in a minute … hopefully.” He jumps out and slams the door. Then I watch him hike across the grass to the front door. He knocks once then walks inside and closes the door behind him.

  As I sit in the quietness of the SUV, waiting for him to come back out, I replay everything Blaise just said. Some of the stuff was, I think, accidental, like the part about wishing he lived somewhere else. I don’t know why he confided in me, even accidentally. Maybe because he’s overly stressed out? I can understand that. I’ve babbled crap I wanted to retract when my mind was overworked. Hell, I’ve done it while I was talking to Blaise and to Rhyland.

  All questions aside, I think I learned something else this morning. That my initial impression of Blaise was i
ncorrect. He may not be as big of a jerk as I originally assumed. Perhaps he was really just trying to protect his brother. Although, there were a few times I can’t blame his asshatery on Alex. Like the first time we met. Or the time he saved me from getting detention and thought I owed him. Or, and quite possibly the biggest, when he threw that kiss into the deal. Of course the kiss itself wasn’t awful. I’m never going to admit that aloud.

  “Just exactly who are you, Blaise Porterson?” I mumble to myself as I stare at the house. “The cocky jerk I first met? Or the guy who’s in that house, taking care of his brother?”

  The longer I analyze the questions, the more I become highly aware of something else. Something that makes me very uncomfortable.

  I’m obsessing over a guy and breaking my own rules. How the hell did this happen? It’s not like I want to date Blaise, but I am thinking about him way too much.

  “Get your shit together, Hadley,” I tell myself in a firm tone. “Stop worrying about Blaise and just focus on getting through this deal so you can go on with your life and your plans.”

  To busy myself, I retrieve my phone and message Londyn.

  Me: Everything go good this morning?

  Londyn: Yep. We’re all good. Even Payton didn’t put up too much of a fuss about going. After yesterday, I thought she might, but she seemed okay. The only weird thing is that I tried to go into Dad’s room to grab the spare key to your car because I lost mine, and his door was locked.

  Me: Yeah, I know. I caught him locking it up this morning. He seemed really sketchy about it, too, but that’s Dad for you. And FYI, Dad doesn’t have a spare key to my car anymore. I took it away that time he took my car and didn’t return it for three days.

  Londyn: Oh! I’m so glad you did, but I wish you’d told me. Could have saved me some time this morning.

  Me: Yeah, sorry about that. I put the spare key under my mattress. Are you guys still at the house? Because it’s late.

  Londyn: No, we made it to school.

  Me: Oh, did you find your key then?

  Londyn: Not exactly.