She’d seen me delight in her tears and isolation.
At that moment, the full consequences of my actions descended on my body like a pile of garbage, and I was buried.
Son of a bitch.
How had she ever forgiven me at all?
“Everyone get seated,” a male voice, probably the principal, shouted over the mic, and I finally blinked.
I’m always on the outside, and I have to push my way in.
I kept telling myself that she was mine.
And I’d told her that I had always been hers.
But she didn’t feel it.
With my heart jackhammering through my chest and a fog in my head, convincing me not to think about what I was going to do, I walked down the aisle and climbed the stairs up to the stage.
Principal Masters twisted his head towards me, away from the audience.
His graying brownish hair was slicked back, and his gray suit was already wrinkled. This guy didn’t like me, but he’d cut me a lot of breaks over the years, thanks to Madoc and his father.
“You’re not going to ruin my day, are you, Mr. Trent?” he asked, almost whiny, as if he was resigned that I was indeed going to pull some bullshit.
I gestured to the mic in his hand. “Can I have a couple of minutes? On the mic?” My throat was like a desert, and I was nervous as hell.
I f**king owned this school, but there was only one person in it I cared about right now.
Would she stay or walk out?
Masters looked at me like I was two years old and I’d just colored all over the wall.
“I’ll behave,” I assured him. “It’s important. Please?”
I think it was the ‘please’ that got him, because he raised his eyebrows in surprise.
“Don’t make me regret this. You have three minutes.” And he handed me the mic.
Whistles and other remarks floated around the room as the whole place came to a hush. I didn’t even have to say anything to get their attention.
Everyone here knew that I was low-key. I only spoke when it suited me, and I never sought attention.
Which was why this was going to be f**king hard.
The amount of blood pumping through my heart may have been what was making me a little light-headed, but I lifted my chin and slowed my breathing.
I found Tate—the only person in the room—and I let her in.
“I murdered a teddy bear when I was eight,” I said matter-of-factly. Guys hollered their approval, while girls erupted in “aw’s”. “I know, I know,” I started slowly pacing the stage. “I was a dick even then, right?”
People laughed.
“I cut the poor thing to pieces and tossed it in the trash. When my mother found out what I’d done, she was horrified. Like I’d turn to animal cruelty next or something. If she only knew…”
“The thing is,” I spoke to Tate, but I said it to everyone. “The teddy bear was something I loved. More than anything at that time. He was tan with brown ears and paws. His name was Henry. I slept with him until I was way too old.”
I shook my head, embarrassed, while the guys snorted and laughed, and the girls mooned. “One day, these kids down my street caught me carrying the bear around, and they started making fun of me. Calling me a p**sy, a baby, looking at me like I was a freak. So I threw the bear in the trash. But that night, I went back out and got it again. The next day, I tried burying it in a box in the attic.”
I looked to Tate again. Her eyes were on me, and she was listening, so I kept going.
“Maybe if I knew it was near, but not gone, then I’d be able to live without it. But that didn’t work either. So after a few days of failing to sleep on my own, to be strong without the stupid animal, I decided to massacre it. If it was beyond repair, then it would be useless to me. I’d have to get by. There wouldn’t be any choice.”
Tate.
“So I took some garden sheers and chopped it to pieces. Cut off the legs. Memories gone. Snip off the arms. Attachment gone. Throw it in the trash. Weakness…gone.”
I looked down, and my voice cracked, remembering how I’d felt like someone had died when I did that.
“I cried the whole first night,” I added, taking a deep breath and clearing the ache in my throat. “It wasn’t until two years later that I found something that I loved more than Henry. I met a girl who became my best friend. So much so, that I even wanted her by me at night. I’d sneak into her room, and we’d fall asleep together. I didn’t need her so much as she just became a part of me. I was wanted, loved, and accepted.”
My eyes were only on Tate now. She was planted in her seat, completely still.
“She’d look at me, and I’d stop dead in my tracks, never wanting to leave that moment. Do you know what that’s like?” I scanned the audience. “Day in and day out, you’re thrilled to be alive and experience a million moments of love and happiness that constantly compete with each other. Every day was better than the last.”
Shit got blurry, and I realized I was tearing up, but I didn’t care.
“But just like Henry,” my voice got strong again, “I concluded that my attachment to her made me weak. I thought I wasn’t strong enough if I needed anything or anyone, so I let her go.” I shook my head. “No, I pushed her, actually. Away. Out. Over the edge.”
“I abused her. Cut her to pieces, so our friendship would be beyond repair.” Just like the bear. “I called her names, spread rumors to get people to hate her, kicked her out and isolated her. I hurt her, not because I hated her, but because I hated that I wasn’t strong enough to not love her.”
The whole room was as silent as a graveyard. People who had laughed, weren’t laughing anymore. People who weren’t paying attention, were now.
“Now, I could go on about mommy didn’t love me and daddy hit me, but who doesn’t have a story, right?” I asked. “There are times when we can blame a situation on others, but we own our reactions to them. There comes a point where we are the ones responsible for our choices and excuses don’t carry weight anymore.”
I’d just aired my business to the whole school. They knew I was a bully. A jerk. But the only good opinion I needed was hers.
Descending the stairs, mic in hand, I walked up the aisle towards my girl.
And I spoke only to her.
“I can’t change the past, Tate. I wish I could, because I’d go back and relive every day that I existed without you, and I’d make sure that you smiled.” My eyes burned with regret, and I saw the pools in her beautiful blues, too. “Every minute of my future belongs to you.”
I crouched down next to her chair, thankful to see my world back in her eyes, and placed one knee on the floor.
“I’ll do anything to be good for you, Tate.”
Leaning into me, she buried her face in my neck, shaking with the release of her tears. I breathed her in and wrapped my arms around her.
This was it.
Home.
“Anything, baby,” I promised.
She leaned back and wiped her eyes with her thumb, sobbing and smiling at the same time.
“Anything?” she laughed out, her eyes bright with happiness and love.
I nodded.
Her forehead pressed into mine as she held my face in her hands and asked, “Have you ever considered a nipple piercing?”
Oh, for Christ’s sake.
I choked out a laugh and kissed her hard, much to the pleasure of the roaring crowd around us.
Such a handful.