Until You (Fall Away #1.5)

Until You (Fall Away #1.5) Page 45

That sucked, and I never wanted to feel that again.

“The video?” I grunted, wanting to sound tough but my voice cracked like I was almost in tears.

“Your brother.” He nodded. “I saw him catch the show on his phone last night when you weren’t paying attention, but I had no idea what he was doing with it.” He raised his eyebrows. “Until this morning when he emailed it to me.”

“Goddamn, you two,” I cursed. “And you thought it would be a good idea to send that to everyone?”

“Yeah.” He nodded resolutely, his eyes lighting up. “I thought it was a perfect idea to send it to everyone. Let them see that piece of shit whimpering. Give him a taste of his own medicine.”

“Well, Tate’s blaming me now.”

“Well…” he started laughing, “I didn’t know she’d react like that, but you knew you had that coming, right?”

He was laughing? Yeah, this was real f**kin’ funny.

“She overreacted.” I stood up straight, trying to nonchalantly massage my dick back to life in a hallway full of people. “I took the high road last night. Besides, after what that dickhead did, did she really think I was going to do nothing? And why did it bother her anyway?”

The questions just kept coming. Tate shouldn’t have been that angry.

Sweat covered my neck and back, and I felt like chasing her down and throwing her over my shoulder.

“Tate’s got baggage, thanks to us. Trust issues,” Madoc continued and walked around in front of me. “Look.” He lowered his eyes and shook his head. “Normally, I couldn’t care less about who you screwed or what kind of trouble you got yourself into. I’ve sat back and let you self-destruct. But Tate? She’s our shortie. Now, go fix your shit.”

I watched him walk away, more and more baffled by how my friend continued to surprise me.

Was he right?

Yeah.

Tate needed to trust me. We were still working on that, and I could’ve gotten into trouble last night. She would’ve been worried and pissed if anything had happened to me, or I’d done something stupid.

I’m sure she was also still insecure about anything that she imagined went down between K.C. and I. Me being in the same place as her friend, without her, would piss her off.

I barreled down the hallway, ready to yank her out of Calculus, but I slowed when I got caught by the masses in the school all headed the same direction.

The crowd was a mess of people walking, yelling, and whispering. I saw some still looking at their phones—the video, no doubt—and some people were calling my name, but I ignored them.

Where the f**k was everyone going?

And that’s when I remembered.

The auditorium.

We were having that assembly this morning.

On bullying.

I ran my fingers through my hair, hard enough to massage my scalp, and let out a long, tired breath.

Great. I think I’d enjoy cutting off my arm and rubbing salt in it more.

Dammit.

I charged and weaved as quickly as I could through the long line of students trying to make their way through the two sets of double doors to the auditorium.

“Jared,” someone called out, but I waved them off without looking.

Tate was in here somewhere, so I scanned the rows as I walked down the aisles. We boasted about two thousand students at our school, but the freshmen were at a separate assembly in the gym, so this crowd wasn’t as thick as it usually was.

Looking for blonde hair was a nightmare. I’d really never noticed how many blondes we had until now.

But I knew Tate.

And I’d know her when I saw her, so I surveyed quickly before we were ordered to sit down.

Walking down the center aisle and back up, I felt my heart race when I saw her purple Chuck poking into the center aisle. Her legs were crossed, and one foot darted out of the row.

Quickly, I walked up the violet colored carpet path and placed my hands on her arm rest, leaning down.

“We need to talk.” I spoke low. “Now.”

Her blue eyes narrowed on me, and my mouth went dry.

My voice had sounded like a warning, and I was just digging myself in deeper here.

Calm down, man. My stomach tightened, and I didn’t know if I liked the drama, or if I was just so used to it. But it was something I did well, so I engaged her.

This wasn’t the time or place, but f**k it.

“Now, you want to talk,” she taunted, and I noticed Jess Cullen, her cross-country captain, sitting next to her, completely still as she watched us.

Tate stared ahead, refusing to look at me. “You get to react and behave without any by-your-leave from anyone else, but I’m supposed to drop my shit when you want my attention.”

It wasn’t a question. It was an assessment.

“Tatum—”

“Now I’m Tatum,” she sneered and looked at Jess. “Funny how that works, isn’t it?” she asked.

“What are you mad about? Last night wasn’t to hurt you.”

I gripped the arm rest tighter. I loved her anger. Always had.

Our first kiss on the sink ledge, and I was hers.

But, right now, she wasn’t angry so much as she was distant. Her chin was tipped down, and she still hadn’t looked at me.

That, I didn’t like.

“You don’t involve me,” she spoke, barely unclenching her teeth. “You don’t share anything with me until you run the risk of losing me. Everything is on your terms…on your schedule. I’m always on the outside, and I have to push my way in.”

Her face was as hard as stone as she gazed out in front of her. “I’ll talk to you, Jared. Just not now. And not for a while. I need some time to think.”

“To come to your own conclusions,” I accused.

“No choice when I’m the only one in the relationship. You humiliated me in the hallway before. Again! You throw me under the bus for your own amusement. When have you ever sacrificed yourself for me?” her calm voice spit back at me.

Air poured in and out of my lungs, thick and painful.

I’d barely gotten her back.

She doubted me. Doubted my commitment to her.

And how could I blame her?

Why should she trust me? I’d told her I loved her. I’d tried to show her. But I’d never shown her that I would put her first.

She’d seen me with my hands all over a ton of girls that weren’t her.

She’d felt the pain, time and again, as I’d thrown her to the wolves and made her a joke in front of everyone.

She’d seen me delight in her tears and isolation.

At that moment, the full consequences of my actions descended on my body like a pile of garbage, and I was buried.

Son of a bitch.

How had she ever forgiven me at all?

“Everyone get seated,” a male voice, probably the principal, shouted over the mic, and I finally blinked.

I’m always on the outside, and I have to push my way in.

I kept telling myself that she was mine.

And I’d told her that I had always been hers.

But she didn’t feel it.

With my heart jackhammering through my chest and a fog in my head, convincing me not to think about what I was going to do, I walked down the aisle and climbed the stairs up to the stage.

Principal Masters twisted his head towards me, away from the audience.

His graying brownish hair was slicked back, and his gray suit was already wrinkled. This guy didn’t like me, but he’d cut me a lot of breaks over the years, thanks to Madoc and his father.

“You’re not going to ruin my day, are you, Mr. Trent?” he asked, almost whiny, as if he was resigned that I was indeed going to pull some bullshit.

I gestured to the mic in his hand. “Can I have a couple of minutes? On the mic?” My throat was like a desert, and I was nervous as hell.

I f**king owned this school, but there was only one person in it I cared about right now.

Would she stay or walk out?

Masters looked at me like I was two years old and I’d just colored all over the wall.

“I’ll behave,” I assured him. “It’s important. Please?”

I think it was the ‘please’ that got him, because he raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Don’t make me regret this. You have three minutes.” And he handed me the mic.

Whistles and other remarks floated around the room as the whole place came to a hush. I didn’t even have to say anything to get their attention.

Everyone here knew that I was low-key. I only spoke when it suited me, and I never sought attention.

Which was why this was going to be f**king hard.

The amount of blood pumping through my heart may have been what was making me a little light-headed, but I lifted my chin and slowed my breathing.

I found Tate—the only person in the room—and I let her in.

“I murdered a teddy bear when I was eight,” I said matter-of-factly. Guys hollered their approval, while girls erupted in “aw’s”. “I know, I know,” I started slowly pacing the stage. “I was a dick even then, right?”

People laughed.

“I cut the poor thing to pieces and tossed it in the trash. When my mother found out what I’d done, she was horrified. Like I’d turn to animal cruelty next or something. If she only knew…”

“The thing is,” I spoke to Tate, but I said it to everyone. “The teddy bear was something I loved. More than anything at that time. He was tan with brown ears and paws. His name was Henry. I slept with him until I was way too old.”

I shook my head, embarrassed, while the guys snorted and laughed, and the girls mooned. “One day, these kids down my street caught me carrying the bear around, and they started making fun of me. Calling me a pu**y, a baby, looking at me like I was a freak. So I threw the bear in the trash. But that night, I went back out and got it again. The next day, I tried burying it in a box in the attic.”

I looked to Tate again. Her eyes were on me, and she was listening, so I kept going.

“Maybe if I knew it was near, but not gone, then I’d be able to live without it. But that didn’t work either. So after a few days of failing to sleep on my own, to be strong without the stupid animal, I decided to massacre it. If it was beyond repair, then it would be useless to me. I’d have to get by. There wouldn’t be any choice.”

Tate.

“So I took some garden sheers and chopped it to pieces. Cut off the legs. Memories gone. Snip off the arms. Attachment gone. Throw it in the trash. Weakness…gone.”

I looked down, and my voice cracked, remembering how I’d felt like someone had died when I did that.

“I cried the whole first night,” I added, taking a deep breath and clearing the ache in my throat. “It wasn’t until two years later that I found something that I loved more than Henry. I met a girl who became my best friend. So much so, that I even wanted her by me at night. I’d sneak into her room, and we’d fall asleep together. I didn’t need her so much as she just became a part of me. I was wanted, loved, and accepted.”

My eyes were only on Tate now. She was planted in her seat, completely still.

“She’d look at me, and I’d stop dead in my tracks, never wanting to leave that moment. Do you know what that’s like?” I scanned the audience. “Day in and day out, you’re thrilled to be alive and experience a million moments of love and happiness that constantly compete with each other. Every day was better than the last.”

Shit got blurry, and I realized I was tearing up, but I didn’t care.

“But just like Henry,” my voice got strong again, “I concluded that my attachment to her made me weak. I thought I wasn’t strong enough if I needed anything or anyone, so I let her go.” I shook my head. “No, I pushed her, actually. Away. Out. Over the edge.”