nine
Sitting next to Jake was the easy part. Talking to him was what Dylan found difficult. It was math class, so working with a partner wasn’t encouraged. Not that Jake would’ve been Dylan’s partner. Years ago, Jake had made his opinion of Dylan very clear. His chest tightened at the memory.
The last time Dylan spoke with Jake was at Lauren’s funeral. Dylan told him he was sorry for his loss, but Jake responded with a grunt and glare. Not exactly friendly.
Jake had never been nice to Dylan. Quite the opposite, actually.
For most of the class, Dylan hunched over his desk solving equations. He’d never been a great student, but math was probably his favorite subject. It’s not like he was an expert, but he at least got passing grades.
When Dylan noticed there were only a few more minutes left of class, desperation bloomed in his chest. He didn’t want to let this opportunity slide. So far he hadn’t been much of an asset in their plan. Harley had done all the work. He’d only been along for the ride. This was his chance to help, to move things forward, to get them closer to the goal.
Gathering up all the courage he could muster, he leaned over and whispered to Jake, “Hey, you know the answer to number fourteen?” It was stupid, but it was all he could come up with.
Jake snorted. “What do I look like? A math magician?”
It’s mathematician, Jake thought, but kept it to himself. “Um…” he scratched the back of his neck with nervousness. His pulse skittered beneath his flesh. “So, I…um…hear you and Kiara are back together.”
Jake turned his dark eyes on him. Dylan knew that look from Jake. He’d seen it before. “Who’d you hear that from? Your girlfriend?”
Dylan swallowed hard. He never should’ve said anything. Why did he let Harley talk him into this?
Jake stood, hovering over Dylan. “You and the officer’s daughter need to mind your business. No one likes a snitch. I didn’t kill my girlfriend. You were the one who found her body. Maybe you offed her.”
“Jake!” Mr. Gregorian hollered.
Dylan’s breath hitched in his throat. Desperate to get out of there, he stood. But Jake shoved him backward.
“Nothin’ to say, huh, DiMarco?” He taunted him. “Typical. You’ve always been a loser.”
“Boys! Knock it off!” Mr. Gregorian said. “Both of you, get outta here before I have to send you to the office.”
No need to bother with the threat because the bell rang out. Dylan jumped up, snatching his backpack off the ground. Then he raced out of the classroom, pushing past the other students with his elbows. Making it out into the hallway, he blew out a shaky breath. His whole body trembled from the exchange, and he wished he’d never attempted to go through with Harley’s stupid plan. She may have been okay with being everyone’s punching bag, but he wasn’t. She liked pushing people’s buttons, getting a rise out of others. But he didn’t.
Not one bit.
What he did in there was dangerous and could have catastrophic repercussions for him.
“You okay, dude?” Hunter stepped in front of him as he walked swiftly down the hallway.
“Fine,” he ground out. His backpack slid off his shoulder, and he tugged it back up.
“You don’t seem fine. What’s going on?” He asked, eyes narrowed.
“Nothing.” Dylan stalked past him and hurried down the hall. Hunter was the last person he wanted to confide in right now. He was still pissed at him. Rounding the corner, he walked right into Harley. Her vanilla scent enveloped him, and for a moment he felt oddly at peace.
“Hey, where’s the fire?” she joked in that harsh way that only she could. When other people teased and bantered, it came out friendly and jovial. But with Harley it was hard to tell if it was in good fun or if she was throwing jabs.
Without answering, Dylan moved around her.
“I was kidding,” she said, trailing him. “Is everything all right?”
He was about to give her the same answer he gave Hunter when her hand fell to his arm. He stiffened, anger surging through him. Spinning around, he moved in close. Her eyebrows shot up. “No. Everything is not all right.”
“Okay,” she spoke gently as if trying to coax a toddler away from his mom. “What do you say we get outta here?”
“Like skip?” He whispered, glancing around.
Harley chuckled. “C’mon, it’s not as bad as it sounds.”
It didn’t sound bad at all. It sounded wonderful. It sounded perfect. It sounded like exactly what he needed.
Nodding, he followed her out of the hallway.
***
“You wanna tell me what happened?” Harley asked as they sat in his truck drinking mochas out of paper cups.
They’d stopped at a coffee shop and picked them up before driving out to the falls. It had been Dylan’s favorite place as a kid. The waterfall was soothing. The park wasn’t open because of the storm, so they had to stay in the parking lot. But even from down here the water was visible as it cascaded down the rocks. When Dylan opened the window a crack, he could hear the rush of the water.
He swallowed down the hot, chocolatey liquid. “I tried to do what you asked. To get Jake talking. But he got upset. Said that you and I needed to stay out of his business. He accused me of working with the police. Called me a snitch, along with some other names. And then he threatened me.”
“I’m sorry,” Harley said in a gentle tone.
“I’m used to being called names, but usually it’s by my dad.” Dylan didn’t know why he was sharing this with her. Maybe it was because he knew she would understand. Or maybe it was simply because he needed to get it off his chest. “I don’t like when it happens at school. My time away from home is my reprieve, you know?”
She nodded. “I get it. That’s how I feel about music. When I put in my earbuds and shut out the world, it’s the only time I feel safe.”
His stomach twisted. This whole time he’d been feeling sorry for himself, and he hadn’t even considered how bad Harley’s life was. At least he had Claire and Hunter. Harley didn’t have anyone. Looking out the window, Harley sipped her coffee.
“Is your dad abusive?” he asked, curious.
“Nah.” She set the coffee cup down in the holder in front of their seats. “Just neglectful.” She said it like it wasn’t as bad, but Dylan knew how much neglect hurt.
“When my dad was in the military he was always gone, and I used to pray that something would happen to bring him back home to us,” Dylan said, staring forward at the water. “After he got injured, he came back to us, but he was a different person: moody, cruel, angry. I remember thinking that the saying really is correct. Be careful what you wish for.”
“That sucks,” Harley answered. It wasn’t a sympathetic thing to say, but for Harley it was about as nice as it got. “My dad has always been gone too. I mean, we live in the same house, but he spends more time at work than at home. Even when my mom was alive. But after she died, it got worse. Now he only comes home when it’s absolutely necessary. Like to sleep or shower.”
Dylan couldn’t imagine losing his mom. Out of the three of them, she was the only one who could calm his dad, even make him happy on occasion. “How did she die?” He’d heard rumors, but he knew better than to take them as truth.
“Car accident,” she said, her gaze once again traveling outside the truck. It started to sprinkle, tiny raindrops splattering the windshield. They slipped down, painting streaks over the glass, almost like they were drawing a picture. “It happened right before we moved here. She was only a few miles from home. It was supposed to be a quick trip to the grocery store, but a guy ran a red light and plowed right into her when she was crossing the intersection.”
“I’m sorry.” It was lame, but what else could he say?
Turning her head, her gaze met his. Sadness swam in her eyes. There was no trace of innocence. Harley was jaded, there was no doubt about that. That was obvious from the beginning. But Dylan was too. Life hadn’t been easy for him. Maybe that was the real reason Harley intrigued him.
They were so much alike.
Scooting close to Dylan, Harley placed a hand on his thigh. His pulse quickened, and he swallowed hard. The bracelet she always wore tapped against his jeans.
“It was my mom’s,” she said, as if she could read his mind. “I rarely ever take it off. Makes me feel close to her.”
“Nice,” he said, turning his head to look at her. When her face neared his, he drew back. “What are you doing?”
Smiling, she shrugged. “Everyone thinks we’re together anyway, right?”
Her lips were on his before he had time to fully process what was happening. Her lips felt good. Too good. They were warm and moist as they moved deftly over his. She tasted like chocolate and espresso. Her hands clutched his waist while his were in her hair, tangling in the short, spiky strands. The kiss was surprisingly tender. And it made him want more.
Of this.
Her.