Christian leaves the hospital two days later with a broken eye socket and a fractured nose. He looks like how I feel. A complete wreck. But as I dote on him in his room, I realize that it’s not about me right now. I copied all the homework he missed out on from my notebooks and bought him his favorite quinoa and avocado salad from the bakery across the road from our school. I sit on the edge of his bed and tell him about all the latest gossip—leaving Benton out of it, of course—when he groans as he shifts in his place.
“Remi?”
“Yeah?”
“How do you think school is going to feel for me for the rest of the year?” His voice is small. He is referring to outing Benton—no matter what happened between them, I think he knows that he was wrong—and to the fact he is now the most hated person amongst the jocks. I want to tell him that it’s going to be okay, but the truth is, he is probably the biggest outcast in our year other than me. Even though Benton Herring was quick to sweep the gay rumors about him under the carpet—he said Christian has had a weird fixation with him ever since he moved to Riverside High and that he had to turn him down a few times—I know that the story is far from over.
“Honestly? I think we should both invest in a good pepper spray.” I sigh.
“At least we have each other.” Christian brushes my dark hair, and I try to smile, but it is hard to look at him, with the purple and green rings around his eyes, the yellow of the fading bruises on his cheeks, without wanting to cry. I also want to cry simply because my heart is broken into a thousand different pieces, and I have no idea how to mend it back. I’m not even sure I want to. Part of me believes that I deserve all this pain. I did something wrong. I did my teacher. Maybe I should pay the price.
“You’ll always have me.” I take his hand and lace my fingers through his, reassuring him.
“So, what’s up with Mr. James? Are you guys still seeing each other?” He perks up in his bed, scooting upwards to a sitting position. I smile through the pain, because that’s what life has taught me.
“Not really.”
“Why?”
“He wasn’t who I thought he was.”
“And why is that?”
“I thought, if anything, I’d be his downfall…” I say, biting my lower lip and picking at my chipped, black nail polish. “Turns out he was mine.”
It’s been two weeks since Pierce appeared at my door begging for me to listen to him. Begging for forgiveness. Two weeks, in which I tried to convince myself that in time, it would feel better. That it can’t possibly hurt that bad. That life moves on. That he was just a teenage crush.
I see him walking down the hallway, and time stops. He walks in slow motion, at least in my eyes, but maybe it’s because when it comes to him, everything else fades away.
He doesn’t look at me. He doesn’t talk to me. I’m trying to convince myself that he is giving me the space I demanded. The space I blackmailed him into giving me, threatening to tell the world about us. But the truth is, deep inside, I am scared and hurt and desperate. What if he got over me? What if he forgot all about me? What if I was nothing but a quick fuck?
I think about our time together more than I should—every waking moment, and then I dream about it in my sleep. And even though it’s only been two weeks, every day, it’s becoming a little harder to imagine exactly how his touch felt against my skin. How he smelled when we made love in his bed. How he tasted when we fucked on his office desk.
“Remington?” I hear a voice calling out my name and look up. It’s Pierce. I swallow hard.
“Yes?” My back straightens at his voice. We’re in the hallway. He looks amazing in one of his sharp suits.
“Follow me.” His voice is so distant and faraway. Like he is talking to me from the other side of the country. I hate it. I nod faintly and move in his direction, and he leads me to Headmaster Charles’ office.
“Am I in trouble?” I ask behind his back as we walk past students, cheerleaders, and the commotion of lunch hour.
“Not at all.” He takes a sharp right, exactly like I knew he would, and we’re standing outside Headmaster Charles’ office.
“What is going on?” My heart rate escalates, and I wonder if it can spontaneously burst from everything that’s happening here. Has he told Headmaster Charles about us? Does he want me back? What is happening here?
“I’ve noticed that you haven’t fill out any applications to colleges yet.” He strangles the handle of the door leading to the office.
I shake away my disbelief and try to calm down. “Yeah. No. I didn’t have time.”
Riverside makes you log your history of applications and acceptance letters to their online system so they can send potential colleges all the necessary documents and reference letters. My file was blank, as I didn’t have time or the right mindset to actually make any academic plans.
“Well, I took it upon myself to set you up with a few options.” He knocks on the door softly, then opens it, and behind Headmaster Charles’ desk is a woman I don’t know. She is young, maybe mid-twenties, and she is wearing a suit and a sweet smile, her blonde hair in a tight bun.
“Hello there, Remington. I’m Holly Tate.” She reaches with her arm for a handshake, but I don’t make a move. “I’m an external adviser. My job is to find students their best fits for college. Mr. James spoke very highly of you. I can’t make any promises, but I can try to give you a few shortcuts to your colleges of interest once we look at your grades and electives.”
I want to laugh and cry at the same time. He wants to look after me and secure my future after I threatened him and kicked him out of my house. Jesus. Only Pierce James would do something like this.
But I don’t want his generosity. I don’t want his help. I want to forget we’ve ever happened and move on.
“No, thank you,” I hear myself say. Holly’s smile melts on her face, and it gives me a little solace. “But I appreciate the offer.”
I turn around and walk away. I hope he will follow me, but when he doesn’t, I’m not surprised.
Everything is changing. We are changing. The only thing that’s not changing is my family life. No. That stays put. Like a bad habit you can’t seem to shake.
Dad is on the road again, with nothing but a quick text telling me that we’d work it out when he got back.
Ryan is back to disappearing and standing me up when he needs to be picking me up from school, sporadically giving me lunch and school money.
And the reality of my destiny is clear as the sky from Piece’s boathouse on Lake Mead.
There’s nothing to see here.
All the interesting, beautiful things are happening to other people.