“Alright,” I say again, my words stuck on a loop.
Another realization hits me as I connect the dots. Fallon Montgomery. Fallon was a senior here at Highland High when I was a newbie ninth-grade freshman. He’s a legend at this school. There’s no escaping his name, still whispered in awe and veneration, like an urban myth. He was heir apparent to Montgomery Pharma, the rich-ass golden boy. So, if what Trevor is saying is true, then…Holy shit!Like I said, my brain is functioning on a loop at the moment.
Trevor places his hand on my suddenly cold arm and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “When you’re ready, Aurora,” he gently tells me.
He motions with a lift of his chin to the suit-and-tie man, and they walk out the double front doors of the school. I’m left alone to stare holes into the business card he just gave to me, feeling utterly lost and confused.
What the hell just happened? I’m in disbelief that Trevor Montgomery breezily strolled in and obliterated my eighteen-year existence, and then strolled back out like telling me he was my long, lost, secret brother was akin to ordering a burger at the Shake Shack drive-through window.
“Aurora,” JD says from behind me, making me jump out of my skin.
I never heard the bell that announces the end to first period, nor did I notice the masses of students now congregating in the hallway as they stop at their lockers or walk to their next class.
I slip Trevor’s business card into my back jeans’ pocket and ignore JD. Switching my canvas bag to the opposite shoulder, I head for the front glass doors that will lead me out of the building.
“Would you please stop and talk to me? This is getting fucking ridiculous,” he complains as he follows me outside, his height creating a shadow that blocks the sunshine from my back.
The morning breeze whips my hair around my face, a few strands catching on my mouth. I swipe at them and tuck them behind my ear.
“JD, I can’t do this with you right now.”
Especially not since a bomb named Trevor Montgomery was just unexpectedly dropped on me. I need someplace quiet where I can sit and think. Second period for me is independent studies, a fancy term to say I have a free hour to do whatever I want—which for me typically means sitting in the library and doing homework.
I pick up my pace and head toward the school’s outdoor gardens. The senior environmental science club is responsible for maintaining the gardens and has converted them into a monarch butterfly waystation, full of different milkweed varieties and flowering nectar plants. With the early entrance of cooler autumn temperatures this past week, nothing much is blooming. The nicer weather is a trick, however. “Indian summers” are a regular occurrence here, and next week is forecasted to be unseasonably warm and dry.
“I’m not going to leave you alone until you talk to me,” JD announces, breathing down my neck.
I’m almost at the gardens when I whirl on him.
“Why? Why now, JD? You have never said two words to me throughout all of high school, so why now? Is it because I overheard what you said? Have a guilty conscience now about allowing Cam to get behind the wheel of his car knowing full-well he had been drinking that night? Atyourparty! Too busy screwing the next available cheerleader to care that your friend, your teammate,my best friend, was too drunk to drive that night? You deserve more than that black eye I gave you. Now, fuck off and leave me alone!”
“A bit hypocritical, don’t you think, seeing as it wasyourmother that killed him.”
As soon as he says it, he sucks in a deep breath. His harsh, but accurate, words strangle my heart.
“Shit, Aurora. That was uncalled for.”
“You think?” I shout at him. “But let’s get one thing crystal clear. That woman wasnotmy mother. She may have given birth to me, but she was never a mother.”
I hold back the tears that want to flow, not willing to give JD any satisfaction that his blow hit deep and wounded deeper.
“You were friends with Cam for three years. He had been my best friend since I was five. Cam was my family, JD. He was the only person in the world that cared about me. And now I have no one.”
JD mumbles something under his breath that I don’t catch.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he says, and plants his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “If you would just give me a moment to explain what happened that night.”
I’m done. I don’t want to waste any more of my free hour going back and forth with him.
“Jackson,” I say, using his first name to make a point. “I’ve had a lot of not so welcome surprises dumped on me today, and it’s only nine-thirty in the morning.”
He must see the pleading in my eyes.
“Alright. I’ll back off,” he relents, concern etched over his handsome face. “For now.”
Even his black eye doesn’t deter from just how insanely gorgeous Jackson Dillon Hallstead is. Mr. Popular. Football quarterback. The guy that every other guy wants to be, and every girl wants to be with. I should be flattered that he’s even paying attention to me, let alone talking to me. But I’ve never been that girl.
