“Taylor Hughes,” she said. “A senior football player.”
“Hughes,” I said. “As in Taylor Hughes that’s the son of Rikerson Hughes? The cop?”
That’s when I saw her eyes fill with tears.
“Yes.”
Those tears nearly brought me to my knees.
I pulled her into my arms and hugged her as best as I could with the stupid brace practically in my face.
The pins running into her goddamn forehead made my stomach hurt.
I held her like that for a long time.
So long, in fact, that the bell rang and kids started to pour into the hallway.
“Let’s go,” I ordered. “You’re going home.”
She was already shaking her head. “I can’t go home. I have one more class.”
I didn’t fucking care. “I’ll take care of it.”
She sighed and offered me her hand.
I wrapped mine around hers and led her down the length of the freshman hallway.
I glared at the snickering little assholes, causing them to snap their mouths shut so fast and hard that I could hear their teeth clack together.
One little boy went as far as to throw a wadded-up piece of paper at her.
I stopped, my nerves fraying, and faced the boy without once letting go of Avery’s hand.
I tilted my head slightly and narrowed my eyes at him.
“Do you have a sister?” I snapped.
“No,” he lied.
“Yes you do, Frank! I’m going to tell Echo that you don’t claim her!” a kid down the hall yelled.
I narrowed my eye on this ‘Frank’ and said, “Do you think it’d be cool if this happened to your sister?”
Frank frowned.
“What about your girlfriend?” I pushed.
Frank frowned really hard at that, looking at a girl across the hall who didn’t look amused.
“Because it happening to mine really pisses me off,” I said. “I was at work and got called by my girl crying because some of you kids are assholes.”
Frank looked away, and I thought he finally got me.
I glared at any fucking kid that made eye contact after that.
“You’re screwed now,” Avery said once we reached the main hallway where all the sets of children could co-mingle with their prospective grades. “Everybody’s gonna know you’re dating a teenager by morning.”
I looked down at Avery and let her see the intensity in my eyes.
“I don’t care if the whole fuckin’ world knows,” I told her bluntly. “I just want to make sure that you’re safe. I really don’t like getting tearful phone calls from you. They make my heart hurt.”
Avery looked as if she’d taken a fist straight to the gut.
“Derek…” she whispered.
That’s when the principal finally showed.
“She looks no worse for wear,” Bailey muttered.
I gritted my teeth and flipped open my phone, showing him the picture.
“I’m guessing this” —I slapped him across the chest with the notebook— “weighs about two to three pounds. Her backpack weighs closer to ten. She’s only allowed to carry ten pounds for six weeks. Do you want to know what one of the consequences for carrying too much weight is?”
Bailey looked at the photo, then caught the notebook before it could drop to the floor.
I didn’t wait for him to answer my question.
“Paralysis,” I said. “Permanent spinal damage. The possibility of not fucking walking anymore!”
My booming voice filled the large room like a bomb went off, and suddenly everyone went quiet.
“Avery is mine, Bailey,” I snapped. “I don’t care if I have to rip this school apart and arrest every goddamn asshole in this building. If it means that I keep her safe, then you’re gonna bet your goddamn ass that I’ll do it.”
Bailey’s face almost turned purple.
“It wasn’t that bad,” he finally settled on.
“Yeah, and that’s exactly what happens when people and situations such as these get overlooked,” I found myself saying. “The principal, or a teacher, or someone who should’ve known fucking better says ‘I didn’t think it was that bad’ and they ignore it. Then they ignore something else. Until that student gets so alienated. So fucking broken. Until he does something drastic. Avery’s got a good head on her shoulders. She knows right from wrong. She was raised with two cops as parents. But not everyone has what she had. Also, had, past tense. She lost both of her parents in the span of a couple years, Bailey. You should be protecting her since you’re one of the only adult figures in her life.”
Bailey looked like I’d shot him straight through the heart as I said that last part to him.
“Avery…” he croaked.
Bailey was a good guy. He just didn’t like being told what to do. Never had.
When I’d gotten in trouble one too many times, my dad had suggested that he put me to work instead of suspending me. I’d hated that idea at the time, and so had Bailey because he hadn’t thought of it himself. Naturally, he’d rebelled against it and had fought my father tooth and nail.