Page 51 of Give Me Strength

“Oh yeah,” she swipes her screen. “I record everything at Bluegrass. Just audio, though. It’s kind of an obsession of mine.”

What I hear has my blood boiling. No one should ever be put through something like that. Ever.

“How long has this been going on?” I ask her, barely disguised anger.

“Since freshman year.” Another shrug. “It was Dr. Kaplan’s idea. A means for me to reclaim some power. I don’t want to do anything with it, though. And Aunt Bonnie can’t know, or she’ll flip out, and then she’ll sue.”

I can’t believe it. “What makes you think I won’t?”

Her eyes snap up to meet mine, wide and searching. “Don’t. Please. I’m used to it. It doesn’t bother me as much as it used to.”

Her lips say one thing, but the vulnerability in her gaze tugs at something deep inside me.

“Ashlynn, I know you’re strong,” I begin, my voice gentle but firm, “but that doesn’t mean you should have to endure it.”

My voice sounds steady, but inside, I’m anything but calm. The tension is palpable, a silent undercurrent running between us.

She shrugs, her expression resigned. “Teenagers can be cruel, but the adults are far worse. I’ve learned to let it roll off my back. I don’t want to ruffle any feathers there, okay? Besides, I have bigger things to focus on, and high school is just a means to that end.”

Her resilience impresses me, but I still feel a pang of frustration at the thought of her facing such harshness. “I wish I could do more to protect you from it.”

“You’re doing more than enough,” she assures me, her eyes meeting mine with a warmth that eases some of my worries. “Really, Gilbert. Your support means the world to me. But I’m eighteen now, and I’d like to have some say in what happens. And what I want is to graduate in peace, then I want to visit Paris with Wyn this summer. What I do not want is to deal with another lawsuit. People already hate me for the other two.”

I look at her, my curiosity piqued. “Why would anyone hate you for things beyond your control?”

Another shrug. “Because I got rich off of them.”

That has to be the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard in a long time. “How is that your fault?”

Her gaze drifts to the window. “I am one of the wealthiest students at Bluegrass. More like a wealthy loner, but I prefer it that way. When people look at me, they see an ATM. Some expect handouts. After all, what could I possibly do with all that money? Others are a lot more sneaky about it, like Principal Richardson. I’m not inclined to give it to them, so they hate me for it.

“The thing is, I’m not desperate enough to buy anyone’s friendship, so I block their numbers and don’t friend them on social media. I don’t do study groups. I don’t do their extracurriculars, academic or otherwise. I have an exemption from sports since I do ballet already. I attend all my classes, do the required group projects, always submit my homework early, and maintain a perfect GPA. And I don’t cause trouble. I’m not sure what else they want from me. Aside from money, which, to which I say, I’m not a fucking ATM.”

“Is that why you didn’t tell anyone at Bluegrass that you moved?”

“No, because it’s none of their business. Not that it matters. If she hasn’t already, queen bee Frances will spread the word at school, with more than a few embellishments. She thinks she can do whatever she wants because her mom’s the coach of the cheer squad, and her uncle is married to Principal Richardson. Who, for the record, will do nothing to stop her vitriol.”

“Ashlynn—”

“Frances has had it in for me ever since we were six. I wish she would give up already. Or keep the drama that happens in ballet out of high school. You’d think it would’ve clicked for her by now that I really don’t care about being liked by my peers. I don’t do teen angst. I’m not interested in aligning myself with petty high school cliques or other childish games teenagers play. And Aunt Bonnie doesn’t care about being liked by other parents either; in their eyes, that’s a potent combination. So they find other ways to get to me.

“That’s why I record everything. It’s all saved to my cloud account. I figured Aunt Bonnie or Mr. Greenfield would want it someday. You look like you want to take a peek at it. Here’s the deal, I’ll turn it over after I graduate high school.”

Or, I could hack into it.

I could call in a favor.

My lips part to chime in, and she pins me with a look. “I don’t want you playing nice with the other parents either. Most of them are two-faced sharks like their kids, and they wouldn’t pass up on the opportunity to circle this wagon.” She waves a finger around the space. “Before you know it, one of the divorcées will sink their hooks into you, and I’ll have to call them Mommy. Gross.”

It’s hard work hiding the smile that forms. “That will never, ever happen.”

“You say that now. In case you haven’t noticed, you’re a catch, and I still won’t call you Daddy.”

She freezes up at that. Her eyes go wide, and she clamps a hand over her mouth.

My. My.

I lift a teasing brow, and the corner of my lip tips upward.

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