“Jonah!” my sister yells, but she can keep shouting. I’m not letting go.
“Call Stella ‘Trash Can Girl’ again and I’ll beat the hell out of you. In fact, call her or anyone else anything ever again and I’ll do the same. I’m done saying nothing. I’m done letting you treat people like crap. Do you hear me?”
Cooper’s eyes widen to the point that they threaten to fall out. “Let me go, Jonah.”
I have to work each muscle to force my fingers to release and when I do, Cooper sags against the lockers, but his voice contains violence. “I thought we were friends.”
“So did I. In fact, for years I thought you were a man, but you’re not. A man wouldn’t treat anyone the way you treat other people.”
He smoothes out his shirt and glares. “You’re the one destroying this. You’re the one throwing everything away over a girl.”
“You knew Stella meant something to me weeks ago. That’s why you began riding her again. A real friend wouldn’t have done that. A real friend would have welcomed her. And a real friend...” I lean into him. “Wouldn’t be trying to get into my sister’s pants.”
“Jonah!” Martha shout-whispers. She glances around. People keep walking, but they’re gaping. It’s obvious things aren’t okay, but our voices are low enough that we could be fighting about the weather.
I round on her. “I can’t stop you from seeing him. You’re so stubborn you’ll do what you want, but he hurts people. He hurts girls. I can give you a list a mile long and tell you each line he gave to them that he’s probably giving to you, too.”
Cooper shrinks under my stare and I soften my voice when I talk to Martha again. “I wish you wouldn’t, but I can’t stop you.”
The pure menace radiating from my younger sister is undeniable. She can hate me, but I need her to know that she has what Stella never did: a place to fall. “And if he hurts you or if anyone else hurts you...you have me.”
It feels unnatural, but I hug my sister. Her arms are limp at her sides, but she doesn’t push me away.
“Remember, you have me,” I repeat.
Martha slowly wraps her arms around my waist, reminding me of the conversation we had weeks ago in the driveway at home. “I was so scared that you had died that night.”
“I know.” I was terrified of the same thing. “But I’m here and I’m alive.”
Stella
My fingers tap repeatedly against the arm of the plastic chair in the main office’s waiting room.
“Stella?” The receptionist peers at me from the other side of her desk. “Mrs. Collins could be a while. Why don’t you go to your first period class and I’ll pull you when she’s done?”
And face Jonah again? “No. I’ll wait.”
Magically, the door to her office opens. Out walks a girl who clutches a tissue and looks like a bucket of water has been tossed onto her face. For real? People actually fall for her shrink routine?
The all-blonde, all-professional Mrs. Collins whispers to her something I can’t hear. The girl nods and smiles. Puhl-eeeze.
Mrs. Collins’s eyes land on me and she has enough grace to wait until the girl leaves the office before speaking to me. “Hello, Stella.”
“I need you to put me on the co-op track today.”
She waves her hand for me to enter and I accept the bait. I collapse into the guest seat and lean back. This should be fast and painless. The clock shows ten more minutes of first period. I can easily make my new second period class.
Instead of going to the other side of her desk like I expect her to, she sits on the corner and folds her arms over her chest. “I thought we had an agreement. I was going to complete the paperwork to get the position at Dave’s Automall approved and you were going to weigh your choices.”
“I thought about it and I want to take the co-op track.”
“I haven’t had enough time to get Dave’s Automall approved yet.”
“Twenty bucks says that’s not the problem.”
She assesses me like I’ve figured her out. I’ll admit to feeling a bit smug and I’m not ashamed to let it show.
“Hold your hands out,” she says.
Uh... “What?”
“Your hands. Hold them out.”
I slowly outstretch my arms. Mrs. Collins picks up a huge stack of papers and folders and drops it like a ton of bricks onto my hands. It’s so heavy my arms give way and it all lands in my lap. “What are you doing?”
“If you don’t feel like you can apply to a major college or university, which I disagree with, then we start with community colleges. You’ll work on your associate degree then move on to another school for your Bachelor’s. That stack has every scholarship application and financial aid document I could find last night and I guarantee with a few more phone calls, I can find more.”
No thoughts. Not a one. Other than somehow the power in the room just shifted.
In her knee-length skirt, Mrs. Collins crouches so that she’s at my level. “You can do this, and I want you to let me help you. I’ll admit it can be daunting and not always easy, but together we can figure it out.”
My heart pauses because I’m on the verge of going places in my mind that I shouldn’t. “I need the job.”
“And you’ll have it. I talked to Dave. They’re hiring for a new position, which means they not only need someone during the day, but in the evening and on weekends as well. It won’t be easy, Stella. I’ll never promise you easy, but lots of people work full-time jobs and go to school. It’s not the traditional way, but...” She smiles as she looks at my hair. “Something tells me you’re okay with nontraditional.”
I don’t know what to say so I say nothing.
“Let me help you,” she says. “I want to help.”
The papers threaten to spill to the ground, but I catch them before they can leave my hands. “You say that now...” I think of Dad and all of the girlfriends of Christmases past. “But I’ll stop being new and shiny and then you’ll find another kid in this school to pick on.”
“I’m not going anywhere. We’ll meet every Tuesday, an hour before school.”
“What if I don’t want this?” I ask, not sure if the question is for her or for me.
“What if you do?” She turns it around.
What if I do? What if she’s right? What if there’s another way to reach my dreams while still being realistic?
“Maybe I want to try.” I test out the words—part of me cringes and another part becomes lighter. I have no idea which side is wrong and which side will eventually be proven right.
“Then let me help.”
The papers crackle under my grip. I’m a moron. I’m stupid. This is the worst mistake ever... “Okay.”
Jonah
Stella wasn’t in American Lit and my blood pulses with nervous anticipation as I wait for her in the cafeteria. I’m at my regular table and so is everyone else, except Cooper is sitting at the other end. The guys try to talk sports, but they sense the change. It’s in the air...it’s everywhere.
I glance at the clock. Two more minutes and I’m checking the library. Stella can’t avoid me forever.
The door from the main hallway opens and Stella enters the cafeteria. She’s completely focused on a booklet in her hand and she holds far more papers than I’ve ever seen her with. It takes me a second to register this difference, as she always comes in absorbed by a paperback, like clockwork, but not today and that’s good. It’ll go along with everything I have to say.
I walk in her direction and Stella sinks into a chair at an empty table near the back, still reading.
“You left before we were done talking.”
Stella jerks and then blinks like she doesn’t believe I’m there. “Jonah—”
“No, you’re no
t going to talk your way out of this. Today, you’re going to listen to me.”
She rests the paper on the table, keeping her eyes locked on me.
Okay. That went a lot easier than I thought it would. I take a deep breath and dive out of my comfort zone. I put one foot on the empty chair beside her then haul myself onto the table. Stella jumps up and hisses, “What are you doing? Get down.”
“No.”
Her neck swivels like a bobble head, and she definitely notices how the entire cafeteria grinds to a standstill. “Seriously, get down. Have you lost your mind?”
“Probably.” I stop to consider “No. I’ve never seen things so clearly.”
“Get down!”
“I’m not ready yet.” And I hold my hand out to her.
The color drains from her face. “What?”
I wiggle my fingers. “Come here.”
“Nuh-uh.”
“By not cooperating you’re only making this take longer.”
“Jonah!” Her frustration is clear.
“Stella!” I mimic in return.
She crosses her hands over her chest. “Not happening.”
“Fine. Then I’ll speak louder.” Not giving her a chance to bolt, I continue, “Last night you said I proved to you that it was possible to change. Well, I have, but what you forgot to add was that you changed too. It’s not one in a million, Stella. It’s two in a million and it’s you and me. In other words...I’m not giving up on us.”
Stella glances around and I can hear her internal wish that everyone would stop staring, but we both know that won’t happen. Being the center of attention, it’s one of her fears, but Stella’s become my whole world and I want everyone to know...including her.
She touches her barrette to comfort herself. “I know.”
I pop my mouth open, ready for the next part of my speech, then pause. “What?”
She looks around again. A few teachers and security guards stand on the periphery of the lunchroom, but no one comes close. Someone starts to talk on the other side of the cafeteria and someone else shushes them.
“I know,” she repeats. “I met with Mrs. Collins today and, well...look, I don’t know what’s going to happen and it’s going to be hard, but maybe...” She shrugs and her face turns red. “If you can change, maybe I can too.”
I run through her words twice to make sure I heard her correctly. “So we’re together?”
The right side of her mouth tilts up and she lifts her eyebrows. I can’t help the goofy smile on my face. We’re together.
I hop off the table and lift Stella into my arms, her feet swinging off the ground. She weaves her arms around my shoulders and my body relaxes when she kisses the side of my neck. A few people clap, a few girls say “aww,” but all I focus on are the words Stella whispers to me. “I’m in this, Jonah.”
I lower her to the ground, take her face in my hands, and kiss those soft lips. “I’m in this, too.”
A teacher clears his throat and we both take an embarrassed step back, but she laces her hand with mine. Stella eases me into a seat at her table and her eyes shine as she begins to talk about her future...our future...
“I think I’m going to try college,” she says.
I scoot my chair closer to hers. “I think that sounds like a fantastic idea.”
It does, and for the first time since the accident, I’m living my life knowing that I’m doing it right.
* * * * *
Keep reading for a sneak peek at Katie McGarry’s next novel, TAKE ME ON, available May 2014 from Harlequin TEEN wherever books are sold.
West
From across the counter, the secretary slides my schedule to me. “You’ll love it here.”
I nod, then meet her eyes. What would she do if I told her that for the past two nights I’ve parked my car in a remote spot at a local park and slept there, then showered at a truck stop?
Pride kept me from asking anyone for a place to crash. Not my brothers, not my friends, not anyone. They’d give me a place, but I can’t stomach the look of disappointment.
After word spread I was officially expelled from school, I was avalanched in texts and the idea of adding to the sympathy induced dry heaves. I’m West Young, and regardless of the fact that I’ve been disowned from the family and the fortune associated with it, I don’t accept charity...or pity.
The secretary tilts her head. “Are you okay?”
No. I’m not. It’s been cold for the past two nights and I’ve had to run the car every hour to ease the chill. The exhaustion sucks, but it’s the silence that kills me. “I’m good.”
Without waiting to see if she buys my response, I exit the office. I don’t care if I’m going the right way to first period. School...class...normalcy feels unnecessary, a bit insane.
I came to my new school hoping my parents would be here. Saturday I went home, packed some things, then left, and I’ve stayed gone. Somewhere around three last night, I had the delusion Mom would be worried and Dad would be sorry. That the reason my cell wasn’t burning with texts and calls was because it died Saturday night and I forgot my charger at home. The image looped over and over in my mind that I’d strut into school and they’d be waiting for me—begging me to return home.
If my brothers did call or text, maybe I would have reached out to them by now, but they didn’t. Dad not contacting me is no shock, but for Mom to be AWOL? My gut cramps and I rub the back of my neck as I stalk down the hallway. Guess Dad was right—when it comes to my family, I don’t belong.
The sight of long sandy-brown hair causes me to pause. I don’t believe in ghosts, but I’m seeing one. With wide eyes and a facial expression that mirrors the one she wore when I almost hit her with the Escalade, Haley stands in the middle of the hallway. A backpack slung over her shoulder; a piece of paper clutched in her hand. People give her a wide berth as they walk past, like she’s an island in the middle of rapids.
I’m not shy. Never have been. People, parties, crowds: that’s my thing. But being near Haley again...I found my kryptonite.
Her jeans perfectly fit her hips, a blue cotton shirt molds nicely around her ample curves and she has the darkest eyes I’ve ever seen. A guy could get lost in those eyes.
She blinks several times, folds the paper in her hand and turns—heading in the opposite direction of me. Shaking myself back to life, I duck and weave through the crowd in pursuit.
“Haley!”
Right as she walks into the stairwell, she glances over her shoulder with her eyebrows scrunched together. That’s right. I’m calling you. “Haley!”
Our eyes meet and her hand automatically covers her heart. I cut through two girls in order to reach her. One of them yells at me, but I ignore her.
“West?” Haley remembers my name. That’s a bonus.
“Why is it every time I see you, you’re running?”
Her lips move a centimeter. “I wasn’t running.” She hitches her thumb over her shoulder. “I was heading to class.”
I don’t want halfway. I crave a full smile from this girl. “You gotta admit, it was a sweet line.”
Christ, she has an amazing smile. With her eyes shining like that, she could be her own personal fireworks show. “The line sucked. I’m more fond of guys who give me flowers.”
Noted and filed away for future use. “It got your attention.”
“My attention?” Her head tilts as if she remembered something awful—odds are she’s replaying Friday night.
An electrical current slams through me when Haley grabs my arm and drags me into the corner of the stairwell next to the fire extinguisher. Her fingers are cool against my now burning skin.
She lowers her voice. “You’ve had my attention for the past three days. The last time I saw you, you were blee
ding on the street with a drug dealer offering to babysit. Do you know how many times I searched the newspaper to see if there was an article about you being dead?”
My shoulders roll back. “Drug dealer?”
Haley releases my wrist and steps back. “Yeah. Abby. Everyone knows she sells drugs. I mean, she’s your friend, right? Please tell me I left you with a friend. Oh, my God, she’s not your friend, is she? Crap. Oh, crap. Are you okay?”
Her eyes dart around, searching for signs of abuse. She’ll find them—the remnants of the two fistfights from Friday. What she doesn’t see is the internal bleeding from my argument with Dad. Haley stretches her hand to touch the yellowish bruise fading on my jaw, then hesitates.
I inhale and revel in Haley’s scent: wildflowers in bloom. The sights and sounds of the world dissipate—well, everything except those gorgeous dark eyes.
“Seriously, are you okay?” Haley drops her hand and I turn my head to breathe in anything that’s not her.
“I’m fine,” I say. “Are you okay? Did those guys hurt you?”
“I’m fine.” She sounds uncertain, so I cross my arms over my chest.
“I’m fine,” she answers again. “Honestly. What are you doing here?”
I ignore her. “What happened after I blacked out? Why did they leave my car?”
“Not important. Tell me, why are you here? To see Abby? For me? This school has a zero tolerance policy on outsiders. If they find you, they’ll call the police.”
“I go to school here now.” From my back pocket, I pull the schedule I picked up a few minutes ago from the office.
“West...” Haley’s level stare has all the makings of a firing squad. “What do you mean ‘now’?”
“I got expelled from my last school.”
“For what?”
“Fighting.” For the first time in my life, guilt heats the back of my neck. Man, she’s got to have a fantastic image of who I am. The problem? She’d be right and the fact that I care is weird.