The Tomboy & the Rebel Page 6

  I pulled free and glared, peering around me in worry. Some expressions said they were impressed. Some said they were disgusted. Miranda being in that group. And some were just too weirded out to look at us both. It was no lie that Darren and I were wrong for each other in every single conceivable way. But it kind of hurt to have that proven in front of everyone.

  “And if I don’t?” I sneered.

  “Then I’ll be the only one who knows they’re insane. Let’s go get some ice.”

  He waltzed over to the soda machine and got a water cup, filling it with ice. He nodded me along over to a bare table near the hot soup station. No one sat there because the steam made everyone smell like chicken noodle soup all day. He straddled the bench and I did the same facing him, all kinds of awkward.

  He still wore his hat, and his jeans were brown and dirty like mine. I couldn’t wait to go home and sob and hyperventilate.

  So, of course, he said, “Want to meet up after school?”

  “Dare,” I began, just as he reached over and gently placed an ice-cube on my cut. The immediate relief made me sigh and I leaned into his touch, closing my eyes. “I just want to be alone.”

  “Why?” he asked. “To punish yourself? To have another panic attack? To think about what happened today? Or to think about the look in your eyes when you smacked me? Or why it was there? Something’s going on with you. I don’t think being alone is a good thing for either of us right now.”

  I pried open my eyes to see his were storming again. I recalled what he’d said earlier in the dugout. Something about his brother. If he had to take care of his brother, where were his mom and dad? Better yet, where were mine?

  And suddenly, being alone sounded like the last thing I wanted to be. But I couldn’t rely on a guy like Dare to make me feel better. This close, I noticed a small patch of freckles on the corner of his mouth. And he had stubble growing out of his jaw and upper lip. With his cheeks flushed from the earlier heat, and his breath still thick of mint and cola, I found myself wishing we could kiss again. Longer.

  That it could have been real instead of a trick.

  Mortified, I looked down. “We could go to my place.”

  “That works. Mom’s got a night off tonight, so she’ll be with Trick tonight. Maybe I can crash there?”

  “At my place? I don’t know if that’s a good idea…”

  He grinned suddenly. “That because you secretly think it is a good idea?”

  “No,” I mumbled, deflated. Everything hurt, inside and out, and fighting was tiring. I just wanted to eat something and hug something and sleep on something.

  “Hey,” he said softly. “I was kidding, Mel. Just figured it would be easier being somewhere where Maisy couldn’t find me.”

  I was reminded suddenly that he hadn’t wanted Principal Darwin to call his parents even more than I’d wanted him to call mine. Which said something. Maybe he didn’t want to go home as much as I didn’t want to go home alone. “Who’s Trick?”

  “Patrick’s my little brother.” He smiled, wide and endearing, and my poor fragile heart loved the way it looked on his face.

  He looked young and boyish. Gorgeous. The hard lines on his face were replaced with warmth. “You love him.”

  He nodded, plucking a new ice cube from the cup and putting it on my cheek. I reached into the cup and got one too, putting it on his cheek as well.

  “Probably the only person I do love. The little monster keeps me human.”

  If I asked where his parents were, he’d ask where mine were as well. So I didn’t ask him that. “How old is he?”

  “Four. You got any siblings?”

  “Nope. I’m the only child.” I rubbed the ice cube over his cut and watched the trail of water seep down his cheekbone and down his throat into his shirt.

  “Isn’t this cute? The tomboy and the rebel.” Whoever said it fake gagged.

  The warmth on Dare’s face faded into empty hardness. “Get lost, Mais.”

  “How is that going to work? Is she going to use her dick, or will you use yours?”

  He ignored her.

  So I did too.

  I got a fresh cube and slid closer, putting my free hand on his thigh to steady myself as I got closer to him. Humor stuck in his eyes.

  “This won’t be good, Darren. This is going to be bad.” Her words trembled, and I saw the resolve, he’d probably promised himself to keep, waver. “Please don’t do this to me.” Her voice quivered.

  “Mais,” he groaned, closing his eyes.

  “Please talk to me about this. I’m sorry for… hurting your little friend.”

  Little friend? I felt this sudden urge to tell her to kick rocks. The storm in his eyes was mine to fall into. Not hers. I needed it. She just wanted it.

  But I didn’t in fact know that for certain. I just knew I didn’t know anything.

  “Try again. You good?” he asked me. I nodded. “Let’s go.” He grabbed my hand, set the ice down, and pulled me to my feet, dragging me after him.

  Maisy followed.

  “Darren, please,” she begged, and even I heard the pain in her voice.

  He paused outside.

  I knew I lost the moment he said, “What’s wrong, Mais?” But he didn’t let go of my hand. He squeezed it almost to the point of pain.

  She came around to put her hands on his hips, ignoring me so well, you’d think I wasn’t even there.

  Oh, how I didn’t want to be there.

  “Let me go,” I hissed.

  He held my hand tighter.

  “Talk to me,” she whispered, a tear in her eye. When she rose her hand, I saw how it shook.

  I pulled harder, wishing he’d let me go. People were watching. And this time it wasn’t a trick. This was just messed up.

  “Dare!” I seethed, tugging so hard my elbow hurt. He tugged me harder, yanking me to his side.

  His jaw stiffened and then he seemed to come to a conclusion. “I meant it, Mais. We can’t be together anymore. I’m seeing someone else.” His eyes flicked to mine.

  Oh. Hell. No. He wasn’t using me as a pawn off, so he didn’t break this witches heart.

  “Her?” she screeched. “You’re seeing her? She’s not even a woman. She’s a little boy in a hoodie. Are you out of your mind? Why are you doing this to me? Why do you always break my heart!”

  I literally couldn’t take it anymore. I sent my foot into his shin, and he released me to glare. I grabbed for my bag and twisted it off his shoulders and over his head. When I did, it knocked his hat off. I bent down to pick that up too. But Maisy knocked me out of the way.

  “Let. It. Go.” I glowered at her, no more in the mood for this than I was this morning. “He gave it to me.”

  She leaned close. “You have no idea who you’re messing with. I am going to make your life hell. Do you hear me, whatever your name is?”

  “That’s enough, Mais.” Dare got between us.

  “That’s enough?” Her entire face fell. “Why do you hurt me, Darren? I love you.” She touched his face. “I love you, baby.”

  I left the neurotic couple alone. But not before I heard her whisper, “I’ll hurt myself if you go after her.”

  And I thought my life was a mess.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  With minutes to spare until lunch was over, I cleaned up in the bathroom, and then got to class. But the moment I stepped foot inside, there was a note delivered, and my calculus teacher instructed I go to the office to see Principal Darwin.

  Dreading every single step, I took the long way, and then doubled-back, before finally going into the office. The secretary took the slip and informed me to go on back. “He’s waiting on you,” she said, like she knew I was in for it.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled, pushing his door open.

  He was wearing a stiff green polo shirt today, and his face was haggard and drawn down. “Sit,” he grunted.

  I did.

  Our eyes locked. He looked pissed off at me. “I called y
our mother. No answer at home, or on her cell. Same for your father. Where are they?”

  I almost lied, but then decided he’d never believe it anyway. “Dad went with his girlfriend to sale her art, and Mom’s away on ‘business.’” I made air quotes around the last word.

  “What does that mean?”

  “That means that she’s probably just following him.”

  “Following your father?” He frowned, and that caterpillar wriggled.

  “Mhm. Her job these days is to obsess, stalk, and hunt down my father.”

  “Why?” he demanded.

  “Because he cheated on her two years ago. At first, she stalked him to catch him. But now it’s like it takes over her life. Like she has to see his smiles and happiness, so she can torture him for it later.”

  He stared at me for a long time before he sat back and rubbed a meaty hand down his face. “Divorce?” he guessed.

  I nodded.

  “Divorce is hard on people, Melanie. It’s almost always one-sided, and the side that wants to hold on has a hard time letting go. But in the meantime, they’re forgetting their biggest priority. And that’s you. Aren’t they, sweetheart?”

  I bit down on my lip and shrugged. “I’m okay. I just turned seventeen. Next year they won’t even have to care.” Gosh, that hurt to say.

  He flinched. “They care, Melanie. They’re just… Listen, adults suck. We’re supposed to have all the answers and know what to do, but few of us do. They’re probably so hell bent on hurting the other that they’re not even seeing anything else. Hate and revenge can turn a person inside out. But that crap turns you inside out too. They’re not being good parents right now, honey. They’re not being parents at all.”

  I hugged myself, eyes latching on that dust mote.

  “When does your mother get back?”

  I shrugged. “Sunday, I think. That’s when Dad gets back anyway.” And where Dad goes, Mom follows.

  “Is he playing both sides?” he asked.

  That question killed me. Yes, my mother and father still played husband and wife. And then Dad leaves and goes home to his girlfriend. Yes, my father’s playing my mother at the same time he breaks me. I see this all but can do nothing with any of it.

  “Ahh,” he said, like it made sense why Mom was so crazy. Dad was making her that way. “Does it get physical?”

  Time to lie. I shook my head.

  “Hmm,” he grunted. “You sure?”

  “Mhm.”

  “How about this, honey? Why don’t we have a few meetings in here. Once a week. That way I can make sure you’re actually having them.”

  He meant so he could make sure I wasn’t losing my mind. “Okay,” I whispered.

  “Okay?” He sounded relieved. “You want a pop from the vending machine? You can catch me up on your classes. I want to see if you’re falling behind.”

  So we did. For the next thirty minutes, we found a pattern I hadn’t noticed. My A’s and B’s had gone down over the past two years to B’s and C’s. My attendance had gone from perfect to “Tolerable,” at least to him. I’d stopped doing extracurricular activities. “You go to school and then go home,” he said. “You don’t have a boyfriend, do you?”

  I shook my head and smiled a little. “No, Dad.”

  He grunted. “Good. Don’t start. Things will go from bad to worse.”

  I thought of Dare. He was probably right.

  “Now,” he said seriously. “What happened to your cheek?”

  I balked, falling for his trick. He lulled me into a false sense of calm, and his comment about physical abuse from earlier made more sense now. “It was an accident with my locker.”

  “Uh-huh. What do I look like to you, Melanie? An old idiot?”

  I sighed, picking up my empty soda can. “It was an on-purpose accident.”

  “By who?”

  “What do I look like to you, Mr. Darwin? A young idiot?”

  He cracked a smile. “Fine. I’ll put eyes on you.”

  Oh great.

  The bell rang, and I breathed a sigh of relief. “Can I get to class now?”

  “Go on. I’ll send your teacher a note for last period. Come here before school on Friday, please. And here.” He scribbled something down with a blue pen and then handed me the paper. “It’s my number to this phone.” He tapped his desk phone. “If I don’t answer leave a message and I’ll call back with my cell phone. If you need me.”

  “Thanks.” I had a hard time meeting his eyes, but I did. “For the soda,” I finished.

  He winked, a sad edge to his eyes. “Sure thing, Melanie. Now get to class.”

  Biology class flitted past me in a blur. My mind felt scared to come out. Scared to feel anymore. When I got to photography class, I no longer felt relief.

  Dare wasn’t there yet. I sat at the same table we’d sat in last time, and let my hair down, fluffing it out before tying it into a new bun. I set the hat on the desk. When Tyra came in, she shot me a nasty look, mumbling, “whore,” under her breath.

  I nodded my head and rolled my eyes. “How original,” I mumbled under my breath.

  I put my face in my hands.

  I heard the chair next to me scrape against the floor, and then his familiar scent washed over me. Softener, cologne, and mint. I listened to the sound of zippers zipping and papers. The familiar sound of a camera focusing. I heard the click of the lens and knew he’d captured my face in my hands.

  “I got a new idea,” he said, speaking quietly to my buried face. “Instead of pretending to be in love, why don’t we try to be? Start a relationship. Date. Take pictures every day to see how love progresses.”

  I hated how great that sounded. “And if it doesn’t progress?” I splayed my fingers to see him. He had a new hand print on his face. And a scratch on his neck. He looked… defeated. I thought it might have been my question, but his sadness was too deep to come from me.

  “Then we still hit gold. We’ll have a slideshow of the attempt at love. We’ll rework our paper, or something.” He shrugged.

  I leaned close to him. “So you’re saying we should start dating for this project? Just like that?”

  “Yeah, what’s the problem?” He stared at me hard.

  “Umm…because we can’t stand each other.”

  “Oh, that.” He snorted. “It’ll make it better when we can stand each other. We’re already getting along better. I thought it was a good idea. If you want to go with showing how easy it is to fake love, we can.”

  “Trying to fall in love would make a much better thesis.”

  “Exactly.”

  I laughed in disbelief. “This is insane. What about other girls? Are you committed to only me?”

  “Only you, baby.” He winked, appearing to have no real desire for this relationship other than the project.

  That comforted me. “So if some hot stud comes along, I have to choose you?”

  He gave me a crooked smile and a heavy eye roll. “I’m the only stud around for miles, Mel.”

  “Not true. Eric Turner’s pretty gorgeous.”

  He paused in the middle of pulling out his notebook. He looked at me funny. “Really? Eric? He’s literally a tear away from emo.”

  That made me laugh. Because he was right. “I dunno, I like that whole dark thing he’s got going on. Killer blue eyes and black hair. Black clothes. He has a nice body too. Skinny and tall.”

  He continued to look at me funny.

  “What?” I asked.

  He turned back to his notebook. “Nothing,” he mumbled, turning the page so roughly it tore.

  Was he jealous? I studied him. No way. Not-uh. We’d literally been dating for like five minutes. “Aww, is Darey-poo jealous?”

  He gave me a look that suggested I was stupid. “I don’t get jealous. But, since we’re on the topic. What do you think of me?” He openly gazed at me, making me instantly uncomfortable.

  I looked around, but everyone was busy on their own projects. “Dare,” I
mumbled. “Come on.”

  “Tell me,” he said, strangely calm.

  Like he wasn’t calm at all.

  “Maybe we do this when we’re not surrounded by our peers?”

  His Adams apple bobbed, like he’d come to a conclusion in his head. And it wasn’t good.

  I never in my wildest dreams thought a guy like Darren would want to hear what I thought about him. I didn’t care what he thought about me. Mostly. Kind of. Wait, what did he think of me?

  I leaned close and put my chin on his shoulder to whisper in his ear. “I’d be here all day telling you what I liked about your outside, Darren. Class is only forty-five minutes long.”

  His stiff posture changed. His eyes turned to liquid gunmetal. And he winked, fluttering those long thick lashes at me like a weapon. “Tell me ten things you like about my body.”

  “Ten?” I squeaked.

  “Ten,” he stated sternly.

  “Outsides don’t matter.”

  “They matter some,” he said, still stern. “Otherwise this relationship is over.”

  I giggled, sitting back and crossing my arms over my chest. “All five minutes of it? How will I go on?”

  “Mel,” he warned.

  “Oh my gosh, fine. Your eyes,” I whispered.

  “You like my eyes?” He smiled softly.

  “I love them.” Too late to take that back.

  He put his chin in his hand. “I love them too.”

  I giggled again, rolling mine.

  “What else?”

  “Your hair.”

  “Mhm. The hair’s dope. Keep going.” He was trying not to grin, which made me grin for him.

  “Your height.”

  “Six-one.”

  “No way,” I breathed, giving him a coy smile. “Hubba Hubba.”

  He chuckled, leaving the smile that caused it on his face. “Seven more.”

  “I like…” I touched my chin, studying him. “Your eye lashes.”

  “Really?”

  “Mhm. They’re crazy long.” My stomach filled with delicious heat, and it was hard to sit still with him looking at me like that. Playful and adorable man/boy.

  “Girls are weird. What else?” He fluttered them at me intentionally that time, overly blinking and grinning.