I should be trying harder to hide my emotions right now, but for some reason, when it comes to Eden, I don’t care if she sees. I’m alarmed at the thought of her knowing about my past, and she can most likely see the panic and the fear in my eyes.
“You know what?” I say, finally releasing all of my emotions in the only way I know how: as anger. “I can’t deal with this. I can’t deal with you, and I can’t deal with Tiffani. I can’t deal with your dumb questions, and I can’t deal with Tiffani’s whining. I can’t deal with any of it right now.” I walk away from her, striding into my bathroom and resting my hands on my sink. I keep my head low, focusing on my breathing again. I was trying so hard to keep it steady before Edenwalked in on me. I need Declan to answer me. I need him to give me something that will allow me to forget about today for a few hours.
“You’re getting so worked up,” Eden says. She has followed me into my bathroom, and I can sense her hovering by my side.
“Watch the door. The lock is fucked,” I tell her through gritted teeth. I am growing more frustrated with each second that passes. The bathroom seems to be getting smaller and smaller. I feel like I am suffocating. When Eden tries to place her hand on my arm, I can’t handle her touch. I flinch away from her.
“I need a hit,” I admit, my voice seething as I reach up to open my cabinet above my sink. I see my antidepressants, the bottle knocked over on its side. Did I take them today? I reach up to the top shelf and desperately fumble around until I find the cash I have stored up there. It’s some of the cash I’ve made from selling Declan’s shit, and lucky for him, it gets sent straight back his way. I’m a loyal client, I guess. I slam the cabinet door shut again, but when I try to turn around to leave, I find that Eden has thrown herself in between the door and me.
“Don’t even think about it,” she threatens, pressing into my chest. She has her chin tilted up, her jaw clenched, her eyes set solely on mine. She is being serious.
“Eden,” I whisper. I lean forward, moving my lips to her ear so that she can hear and understand me perfectly clearly, and I growl, “I. Need. A. Hit. Right. Now.” If only she knew just how desperately.
She glances down at the cash in my hand, then back up at me. “Because coke is totally going to fix everything, right?”
“Eden,” I say, this time more firmly. Right now, she really shouldn’t try and stop me. I am meeting Declan and getting the high I need whether she likes it or not. “Move your cute ass out of my way before you really piss me off. I gotta meet Declan.”
“I’m not letting you,” she says, pushing closer up against me, her chest against mine. Her gaze is fierce and unrelenting.
“It’s not fucking up to you!” I yell, slamming my hand into the wall behind her, right by her ear. As soon as I do it, I regret it. I don’t want her to see me like this, so angry and so desperate and so pathetic. I don’t want her to see my violent side, because violence is never, ever necessary. I learned that at a young age.
Suddenly, Eden slides out from in front of me and throws herself against my bathroom door. It closes and she presses hard against it until it clicks into place. All of the color drains from my face as my jaw hangs open. No fucking way did Eden just do that. We are now both trapped in here, in this tiny bathroom, just the two of us with no possible way out, and if I wasn’t suffocating before, then I definitely will now.
47
Five Years Earlier
Principal Castillo rocks slowly back and forth in his chair, his hands interlocked over his stomach, his eyes never leaving me. His lips are pressed together into a thin line of both disapprovalanddisappointment. I’ve never been in his office before. There was never any reason to be here until now. We are sitting in silence, listening to the clock on the wall tick on by, and I am sitting on the opposite side of the desk. Principal Castillo is usually nice, but everyone knows that he can be strict, and he doesn’t tolerate bad behavior, especially fighting, within his school. That’s how I know I’m in a lot trouble, and both my parents have been called. It’s just a matter of which one shows up first, and I am praying with everything in me that it won’t be Dad.
I glance down at the ice pack in my hand. My lip is cut open and my jaw ever-so-slightly aches, but it’s nothing too new to me. That’s why, instead of holding the ice pack to my mouth, I only turn it over in my hands repeatedly, trying to distract myself from the tension in this office. I’m not only going to be in trouble at school, but at home too.
“I’m…I’m sorry, Principal Castillo,” I mumble, glancing up at him again. We have already been over this. “I don’t know what I wasthinking.”
“You don’t just do something like that for no reason,” Principal Castillo says. His eyes search mine, but I quickly look down at my lap and shrug. There’s no way I can tell him that I threw a punch at Blake Montgomery because I was really imagining him to be my dad.
“Blake said something I didn’t like,” I lie. “I overreacted. It won’t happen again, Principal Castillo. I’m really sorry.”
As soon as the words leave my lips, there is a quick knock at the door before it swings open. I crane my neck, looking back over my shoulder. Officer Brown steps into the office first, followed by Dad. My heart sinks into my stomach and I swear that for a second, I stop breathing entirely. He doesn’t look at me.
“Thanks for getting here so quickly,” Principal Castillo says. He stands up and stretches over the desk, shaking Dad’s hand firmly while nodding to Officer Brown, who leaves the room again, clicking the door shut behind him. “Please, take a seat.”
Principal Castillo sits back down, and Dad sinks into the chair next to me. He sits forward, his foot anxiously tapping the floor, his knee shaking. “What is this about?” he asks, but I can hear the quaver in his voice. He’s nervous. Not mad. Not yet. He doesn’t know why he’s been called here. Does he think…does he think they know? Does he think I’ve told them the truth? The truth about him?
“Tyler was involved in a fist fight during lunch period,” Principal Castillo states. He fires me another scolding glance. He probably didn’t even know my name until today. I’ve always been a good kid, always flown under the radar.
Dad inhales a sharp intake of breath. I think he is relieved at first, but only for the briefest of moments. Then, the outrage sets in and he abruptly straightens up in his chair, narrowing his eyes across the deskat Principal Castillo. He still doesn’t look at me. “A fight? Tyler was fighting?” he asks in disbelief. I’ve never hit anyone in my entire life before. Except maybe my brothers when we were younger and would fight over action figures and the Game Boy. But that doesn’t count. This is the first time I’ve hit someone with every intention of hurting them, and I still don’t know why I did it. I lost control, just like Dad does. Blake Montgomery just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. It wasn’t his fault, but it’s never mine either.
“Unfortunately so, Mr. Grayson,” Principal Castillo says. The wrinkles around his eyes are deep-rooted and his expression is so solemn that it makes him look even older. “During lunch period in the cafeteria. Officer Brown stepped in and pulled Tyler away before it got any worse, but there’s no place for any violence whatsoever on this campus. I have no choice but to suspend Tyler for the rest of today, tomorrow,andnext week.”
Dad’s jaw hits the floor. “Suspended?” he splutters, his eyes bulging straight out of their sockets. I thought I was only going to get detention, not a suspension… There’s no going back from this now. Dad is going to lose it. “Is the other kid getting suspended too?”
Principal Castillo shakes his head. He sits forward, resting his elbows on his desk as his thick eyebrows knit together. “When I say that Tyler was involved in a fight, Mr. Grayson, what I really mean is that he beat up one of our eighth-grade students. It was completely unprovoked, so no, Blake Montgomery won’t be suspended. Tyler, you’ll talk about this with Mr. Hayes when you return to school.”
Dad stares blankly at Principal Castillo. Then, so slowly, he turns his head toward me. His fierce green eyes lock onto mine and I can see the rage brimming in them. He doesn’t even blink. His jaw is clenched tight, his nostrils are flaring. “Thank you, Principal Castillo. Let’s go,Tyler,” he says through stiff lips. He stands up and I don’t dare hesitate, so I quickly scramble to my feet.
“I’ll be in touch,” Principal Castillo calls after us, but Dad has already guided me through the door and into the hallway. Didn’t he see? Didn’t he notice the anger in Dad’s eyes and the fear in mine? Maybe only I can see it because maybe I’m the only one who knows what to look for.
It’s fifth period and everyone is in class, so the hallways are empty and silent as Dad marches toward the main entrance. He is speed walking, his strides wide, and I have to almost break out into a jog in order to keep up with him. He isn’t saying anything. That’s how I can tell that his anger is growing within him, building and building, because he can’t even open his mouth to say anything. His hand is balled into a fist by his side and his breathing deepens until we are outside and off campus.
