“I’m well aware, Calvin,” he said, and I cringed.Stop calling me Calvin. “We’ve contacted your parents, and they’ll make arrangements for Cara this week.”
Shit.
I sliced a deadly glare at Jack. His fault, all of it. Daddy finding out about this was inevitable, but now he’d be even more pissed. Not only for being interrupted while at work, but also because he’d actually have to do shit for a change and arrange rides for Cara instead of me.
“Yes, sir,” I said.
Fuck, I was so over this year already.
Onceweweredismissed—andI left the room in a mad dash, making it impossible to even think about getting one more glimpse of Cal—my lungs expanded fully and rushed much-needed oxygen to the rest of my body. Cal was that consuming. The heat of him sucked out the breathable air until I begged for his leftover fumes. It had been that way for over two miserable months.
Those bright blue eyes of his, like ice under the ocean … Jesus, fuck, how I hated him.
While I headed to the class that was nearly over, I pulled my phone free to check the messages that had vibrated in my pocket during that torture session.
Ty
Am I picking up gasoline and matches after school?
Idiot.
Mom
The school called. Are you okay?
Were you hurt?
I sighed and stopped in the hall to answer her before continuing. I was late already, and the teacher would know why. What was a few more minutes?
I’m fine. Not hurt. It wasn’t really a fight.
Her response was immediate. Though she’d no doubt been given the 411 from Ty and filled Dad in, she’d probably been perched on a barstool in the kitchen as she’d waited for my answer.
She worried, and I hated that I’d made it harder for her. Since that night they’d gotten a call from me in tears, at the hospital, she’d had this ever-present fear she’d get another call like it. Though it hadn’t been my fault—I’d finally accepted that after a year of therapy—it’d been because of me she carried this deep-rooted dread with her.
Mom
Okay. We’ll talk more when you get home. They said you had detention. Ty will wait for you and get started on his homework in the library there at school.
I’m glad you’re safe, sweetie.
The economics teacher barely acknowledged my late arrival to his class as I quietly entered and slunk into my seat next to Ty.
He lifted a brow and whispered, “You good?”
I shrugged. Was I? How the fuck would I know? Something like detention shouldn’t be too much of a blight on my high school transcripts, right? But more pressing, how the fuck would I stand detention with Cal Winters, of all people, sitting next tome. I could only hope others would be in there with us, diluting his potent effect on my nervous system.
Nope,notthatfuckinglucky.
Today’s detention was with Ms. Haney, the very teacher who’d caught us this morning. She eyed us like the killjoy I imagined her to be. All pruned and pursed like a sanctimonious bitch, set on her moral high ground and unlikely to ever see anything outside of black and white.
When I tried to sit as far from Cal, who was already situated in the middle of the front row of desks, she put a nasally stop to it.
“No, Mr. Rutledge. Since the two of you have such an issue with each other, making it the problem of those around you, I’ll be returning the favor. You will spend the next hour sitting beside Mr. Winters,” she said.
At least Cal seemed just as happy about it.
I fell into the seat, making the desk jerk away from him as much as possible without it being obvious that was my intent.
