“Didn’t Mom tell you? I’m suspended.”
Her eyes open amusingly wide. “No. Why?”
“I beat the shit out of Preston.”
“That was you? How didn’t I know this?”
“I’m sorry that the first thing I did after wasn’t to go running to my little sister to tell her,” I mutter, going for the coffee machine. Although, I already know that caffeine isn’t going to be enough right now.
“Fuck off. Why’d you hit him?”
“Why not? That guy is a class A prick.”
“Agreed but it’s not like you to go around swinging your fist because you feel like it, well, not here anyway.”
“It just did, okay? I’m going back to bed.”
“Don’t forget our meeting,” Mom says, breezing into the kitchen. “I’ve had to move my entire day around for this, so make sure you’re ready.”
“I’ll be ready,” I call down to her.
We’re almost at school when the first class of the day is about to start. I haven’t heard anything from Poppy, so I can only assume that she’s not heard the gossip yet. That’s not overly surprising seeing as she keeps her head down and tries to avoid almost everything that happens in that place.
Just before Mom parks, I drag out my cell and send her a simple message. I probably should say more, but I have no idea how to explain what I want to say to her.
Zayn: I’m so sorry.
I stare at the screen for a minute, but it never shows as read before I’m forced to get out of the car and walk beside Mom to listen to Hartmann rip me a new one.
To be fair, the meeting isn’t as bad as I thought it might be. And I can’t help but wonder if that was because Hartmann also wanted his chance to punch Hellburn in the face. I wouldn’t put it past him. It’s no secret that Preston’s father donates a hefty check to the school once a year, allowing Preston to act like a douchebag because he thinks his father owns this place.
Entitled prick.
I allow Hartmann to give me his speech about how he expects his students to behave, let alone members of our successful team. Blah, blah, blah.
My fist clench and my teeth grind with my need to tell both Hartmann and Mom just what a prick Preston really is, but without breaking my promise to Poppy again, I can’t. All I can hope is that he fucks up soon before anyone gets hurt, and shows himself for what he really is.
Thankfully, my teachers have already delivered me a stack of work, and by the time we leave his office, I’ve got enough to keep me occupied for a month, let alone four days off school.
“Well, that wasn’t so bad,” I mutter as Mom and I head out to the parking lot.
“Zayn,” she breathes. “You’re suspended. How is that going to look to UCLA?”
“They won’t care, Mom. Kids get suspended all the time. I’ve got a solid GPA, plus football. This is nothing.”
“I hope you’re right,” she mumbles, unlocking the car and ripping the door open.
“They’ve probably already made their decision anyway.”
“How are you so calm about it? Don’t you want it anymore?”
I shake my head. “Of course I want it.” UCLA has been my dream for as long as I can remember but I try to keep levelheaded about it. I’ve worked my ass off, written what I hope is a stellar application. All I can do now is wait. If it’s meant to be then it will be, if not, there are plenty of other incredible colleges out there.
“Well, could you at least look a little bit anxious about it. I think I’m feeling it for the both of us.”
“Everything will be fine, Mom.” Reaching over, I squeeze her hand.
She nods before backing out of the space ready to kick my ass out at home so she can head to work.
A week of sitting at home on my own. Not exactly my idea of fun but then I guess this is meant to be a punishment. Even if that motherfucker did deserve it.
17
Poppy
Zayn: I’m so sorry.
My brows pinch as I stare at those three little words. Dread starts to fill me as I try to think about what he’s sorry about.
Sorry about last night? About what we did?
It was all a joke, wasn’t it?
My temperature spikes as anger swells within me. My stomach turns over and I have no choice but to push my chair out behind me as I run to the bathroom to save me from puking all over my desk.
By the time I push into the stall, the feeling has subsided, although the anger is still burning strong.
Tears sting my eyes as I think about everything he gave me yesterday. How light he made me feel as he took me away from the stress of my life.
“You motherfucker,” I scream into the silence of the bathroom as I finally give in to the tears.
When Ruby bursts into the room she finds me curled up in a ball on the floor, still crying.
“Jesus, Poppy, are you okay?” she asks, dropping to her knees beside me.
“Y-yeah. I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” I risk looking up and all I find in front of me are a pair of knowing eyes.
“Something to do with this maybe.” She passes my cell over. The screen is now blank but from the look on her face I’m assuming she saw what made me run.
“What’s he done?”
“I… I don’t know,” I admit.
“So why are you in here crying if you don’t know what he’s done?”
“He regrets it, doesn’t he? Do you think it was just a dare like New Year, a game like his birthday?”
“Uh…” Ruby comes to sit beside me, our shoulders touching as she reaches for my hand. “I’m sure it wasn’t.”
“I need to find him,” I say with renewed enthusiasm as the idea of going and ripping him a new one for treating me like this hits me.
“Y-you can’t,” Ruby says, her grip on me tightening.
“Why can’t I?”
“Haven’t you heard the gossip?”
I look at her with raised brows. “When do I ever listen to the gossip?”
She rolls her eyes at me. “He’s been suspended for punching Preston’s lights out. Any idea why he did that, by the way?”
“What? Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” I bark at her.
“I thought you knew. You clearly spent most of last night with him. I assumed he told you.”
“Jesus, Ruby.” I push from the floor and grab a paper towel to clean up my face with.
“What?” she asks innocently. “So that makes everything better now that you know he’s been suspended for fighting.”
“Well, no.” But it sure gives me a better idea as to why he’s sorry. I don’t need to remember the smirk on Preston’s face earlier to understand why he looked so fucking happy.
Jesus. This is a fucking mess.
“You need to talk to Harley about this, Jake too.”
“Yeah,” I agree.
“Come on, you ready to get back to class?”
“Yeah,” I say sadly, already regretting running out like that. I’ve just made myself an even bigger target by acting like a complete nutcase. My MO is to keep my head down at every opportunity and try to blend as much as possible in an attempt not to give him any more ammunition to come at me with.