Page List


Font:  

“I’m not suicidal,” I whispered, glancing back at my phone to busy myself. I was hot all of a sudden. Sweat coated my back. Nerves tingled along my skin. I couldn’t believe I’d shown someone my scars. The only other person who knew about them was the one person who shared the same defective skin. Tobias.

“I hope whoever caused those scars is six feet under ground.”

The harshness of her words didn’t cause a single flinch in my body, because I’d hoped for that on more than one occasion. And maybe that made me just as messed up as Richard was. Or maybe that thought directly stemmed from the fucked-up girl that I was because of everything I’d been through.

But Richard wasn’t dead.

And that was something that did make me flinch.

“Gemma?” I stiffened as the headmaster’s voice cut through my thoughts. His face appeared through the foggy mist seconds later. “Your uncle called. He wants to have his chat with you earlier this evening. Which works out perfectly. Now you don’t have to miss out on the annual pep rally bonfire to kick-start the rival game in Temple on Thursday.”

Sloane mumbled under her breath, annoyed that she had to miss out because of her detention with Mr. Fishers.

I nodded at Headmaster Ellison who stood just below the bleachers with his hands in his pockets. “Oh, um, okay,” I said before smiling briefly at Sloane. “I’ll see you back in our room later.”

She nodded as her eyes snapped down to my covered wrists before I began walking down the bleacher steps. The pounding of my shoes against the metal was just as loud as my heart when the headmaster spoke again. “He’s waiting patiently to talk with you, so let’s get there quickly. I fear that if you’re a second too long, he’ll show up.”

Confusion and a leeriness filled me. “Why wouldn’t you want him to show up?”

The warm air from the school hit my face as the headmaster and I walked through the doors. Students eyed us, as usual, some giving the headmaster a high five as they walked past. It was a weird dynamic he had with the students. He was professional while talking to other teachers, and especially Richard, but he was so friendly when it came to the students. Like he actually cared for them.

Headmaster Ellison hummed, thinking over my question. “Well, I guess because I feel that St. Mary’s is good for you, and I think if he sees that you’re flourishing here, he’ll rip you away.”

He’d rip me away right now if given the choice.

We were almost to his office when I let myself ask the question, “And why wouldn’t you want him to rip me away? Why does that matter to you?”

He sliced his green eyes to mine, and the intense color of them struck a chord with me. My heart skipped a beat as I stared into them, feeling that same sense of familiarity in their depths that I’d felt the first day here. “Because my students matter to me, and I know more about you than you think, Gemma.”

I paused as anxiety bubbled in my stomach.

His hand rested on my arm for the briefest of seconds before he pulled away. “That isn’t meant to scare you. There is no hidden threat in my statement.” A shaky breath clamored from my mouth as we walked into his office. He ushered for me to sit down near the foot of his desk, as always. “Though, I do know you wrecked my car.”

Another shaky breath whooshed out of my mouth as it flung open. How could I forget that I wrecked his car? Deep down, I knew it was because I was so blinded by what had happened after I’d hit the stone wall. Truthfully, the only thing on my mind was Isaiah and his talented fingers that I couldn’t stop myself from staring at today during art. “I… I…” Deny it! One look at the headmaster’s glittering expression told me that I didn’t need to deny it, that there was no point. If he had only guessed that I had wrecked it and was fishing for information, I just gave him the truth right there by not rejecting the accusation right after it came out of his mouth. “Did Isaiah tell you that?”

Suddenly, my heart began to beat harder. Surely Isaiah didn’t tell his uncle I had wrecked the car. But what if he did because the headmaster assumed it was him? Or the SMC? Would he throw me under the bus to save himself? There was a reason Isaiah had to stay here, and I had a big feeling it had to do with someone named Jack. I hadn’t asked Isaiah who Cade was referring to earlier today, but I saw how Isaiah’s shoulders had tensed.

“Isaiah said he wrecked it. But I know how my nephew drives. He doesn’t wreck.”

My mouth formed an O. I could feel the muscles along my lips pinch. So he didn’t throw me under the bus; he tried to save me from it. I said nothing to the headmaster as I let that sink in. He was staring at me intently, and I had no idea what to even say. Did I apologize? Did I beg him not to tell Richard? Oh my God. What if he told Richard? The floor was like water under my feet, and the chair felt like it was seconds from falling in.

“I did wreck your car.” I clasped my hands together and felt my head dropping. “And I’m sorry.” What if he tells Richard? Shit.

“Gemma,” the headmaster said, voice a little softer than usual. “I feel like this is a step in the right direction.”

“What?” I slowly brought my head up.

A cheesy smile broke out along his face. It was the kind of smile that I would assume a dad to have after saying a silly joke to his teenage daughter. Not that I would have any idea what that would look like, but it just seemed…genuine. In fact, my own mouth wanted to rise at the sight of it. Part of me wished the headmaster was my father. I didn’t think much about my own dad. I never knew him, and my mom had disappeared at such a young age that I never even had a chance to ask about him. Tobias once asked Richard about him, and he was locked up for days in the basement. We never dared ask again.

“You didn’t lie to me. You admitted wrecking my car.” I shifted uncomfortably as I noticed he was still smiling. How could he be smiling when I wrecked his car? “You trusted me enough to tell me the truth. You didn’t ask me not to tell your uncle—which I won’t, by the way. But that’s a step in the right direction, don’t you think?”

Was I beginning to trust him?

I pulled at the hem of my skirt nervously. “I guess you’re right.” I paused. “I’m sorry about your car. I…don’t know how to drive.”

He laughed. “I can see that.”

I bit my lip before asking the question that was nagging me. “Is Isaiah in trouble? For taking me with him?”


Tags: S.J. Sylvis Romance