I tighten my grip, and I pull, leading him toward the back door. A crowd of students follow, and it’s a sweaty mess—me, trying to gain control of Billy, and him, trying to punch and pull his way out of my hold. He delivers a firm punch right to my stomach, knocking the wind right out of me. It’s enough that mygrip around his neck falters, and he spins to face me. His arm is raised, fist curled and he swings forward, clocking me perfectly in the side of my left eye. My vision flashes white, a sting slicing through my face, and through blurred vision, I see him coming at me again.
I lower my body, dropping my shoulder as I lunge at him, shoving him into the wall. Some students around us are cheering, some are screaming, and it’s enough that the hall starts to fill as other students peek out of their classrooms to check out the commotion.
Billy manages another hit to my jaw, and I’ve about had enough of this shit. I get him under me, my hands holding his face still, and I want to punch him, to have him hurt physically as much as Mags is hurting emotionally. But then I imagine her face, the shocked expression she’d have if she saw me hurt someone. Knowing how disgusted she’d be with me if I sunk to his level has me loosening my grip on him.
I rise to my feet, grabbing him by the neck of his hoodie and pulling him up. I have about six inches of height on him thanks to my recent growth spurt, and unlike him, I have some muscle on me. I drag his panting sweaty ass down the hall, past the lockers, and toward the cafeteria. The back of his neck is firmly in my grip, and I have him slightly hunched over by the time the bathroom doors come into view. Magnolia’s mom is here, having just arrived with a tote bag in hand. She stands with McKenna at the mouth of the bathroom. Both of their heads turn at the commotion, and Mrs. Banks’s eyes nearly pop out of her head at the sight of me practically dragging Billy by his neck.
“She still in there?” I ask McKenna, and she nods, eyes wide as she steps out of the way.
I shove Billy, and he stumbles, taking a few steps before righting himself. Ushering to the mouth of the bathroom door, I pause with my arm out, waiting for him to man up.
“You’re a psycho, Lukas!” he bites, and I nod.
When it comes to keeping Magnolia happy? Yeah, I’m a psycho. Because the truth is, I have fallen in love with my best friend. Maybe I’m a fool, wanting to be her best friend even though it kills me to not be anything more. But I’ll die a happy fool if it means I have her trust, if I can help her and protect her, just like I am now.
“Still waiting.” I usher again.
Billy rolls his eyes, pursing out an exhausted breath as he takes another step toward the bathroom. He cocks his head, refusing to meet Mrs. Banks’s eye contact as he calls out, “Magnolia, you in there?”
The entire crowd is silent, except for the principal, Mr. Brown, who has emerged from his office with the help of Mrs. P. They’re working their way through the crowd, forcing students to go back to their classrooms. We have seconds before they reach us, and I shove Billy’s shoulder, urging him to get on with it.
“I’m sorry, Magnolia,” he spits out, raising his arms in my direction. “Satisfied?”
“Say it like you mean it,” I grit. And when I curl my fist around the hood of his sweatshirt to usher him a step closer, I hear the principal call out to me.
“Mr. Hart. Mr. Hart! Enough.”
I’m about to accept defeat when Magnolia emerges from the bathroom. Her face is washed, skin still slightly pink from all the crying. Her hair seems brushed, and she’s wearing different clothes than she came in this morning. She hands her soiled clothes back to her mom, who immediately tucks them into the tote bag, and then they both turn to stare at Billy.
“I said, I was sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” she asks, her voice unusually calm. “For what you said? For being a dick?”
He gives a pitiful shrug. “Both.”
“You—” Her gaze flicks to me for the first time, and she gasps, a hand flying over her mouth when she sees the side of my face. I tighten my grip on his shirt, using the last of my adrenaline to lift my arm up, the movement practically making Billy stand on the tips of his toes. His arms flail about to keep balance. “Okay, okay, okay. Christ. I’m sorry I made fun of you! Okay! I’m sorry! It was stupid and I won’t do it again!”
I take one more glance at Magnolia, and she looks over to me, a silent conversation between the two of us that she accepts his apology. Her look is enough that I lower my arm, loosening my grip on his sweatshirt, and letting Billy step away from me for the first time since I cornered him in the classroom.
“Mr. Hart,” Mr. Brown booms again, this time coming to stand in front of Billy and me. “Both of you. My office. Now. Everyone else,” he raises his head to the few students who dared to ignore him the first time, “get back to class immediately. Anyone caught roaming these halls in the next ten seconds will earn themselves a week suspension—just like these two.”
CHAPTER 3
Magnolia
Rolling the pebble between my fingers, I look around, wondering if this will even work or if I need to find something bigger to throw. There’s a pile of gravel across the yard, ready to serve as the base for Mrs. Hart’s new chicken house, but with my luck, I’d pick a rock way too large and toss it just right, shattering Lukas’s bedroom window. I don’t need to wake the entire house with that mess.
“Lukas,” I hiss, flinging another pitiful pebble at the window. It pings against the glass, barely making a sound, and I pause for another second, waiting to see if he heard. I perk my ear up, the only sound the field crickets calling out, reminding me that summer is on its way. I take two steps back, looking up at the row of windows that line the back of the Hart farmhouse to make sure I counted correctly. I’d die if I accidentally woke Mr. and Mrs. Hart, or gave Lukas's little sister, Harper, nightmares thinking that I'm the boogeyman here late at night. With my last appropriately sized pebble in my hand, I fling my arm back and whip the pebble toward the window. It hits with a little louder ting than the others and I take a step back, hope igniting in my chest when a small light flicks on in the corner.
A shadow appears in front of the window, and I wave my arms above my head, then chuckle a little, knowing that I'm easily spotted down here, the only thing moving around their backyard in the dead of night.
Lukas pushes up the window and the screen, and with his hands gripping the sill, he leans out. “Mags?” he whisper-hisses, disbelief lacing his voice. “What are you doing here?”
“Needed to talk to you,” I tell him, my voice coming out a little bit shakier than I had hoped. Even though we’re standing in pitch black, I can see his brows pulled together.
“Are you okay?” he asks, and my heart soars. Lukas is always making sure I'm okay, and the stunt he pulled today that landed him a week's worth of suspension, plus grounded for who knows how long, is proof of that.
“I'm fine,” I tell him. “I just wanted to talk to you.”
