Page 45 of My High School Rebel Boyfriend
She parked alongside the bridge, near the place I’d slept in my car. You could watch the river here, but the water was barely moving today. She turned off the car, hands gripped on the steering wheel, eyes ahead.
“I don’t understand,” she said with a sigh of frustration.
“What don’t you understand?” I fingered the zip of my jacket that was on my lap.
She turned to me and her eyes wandered from mine, to my hands, to my torso. “You. Me. Your Mom. What your Dad does to you,” she saidquietly.
I froze, realizing she was going to make me expose my whole life. She was going to make me examine everything about myself.
“I thought you hated me,” she said, “and I thought I hated you, but something happens when we’re together.” She looked at me for confirmation, and I couldn’t deny it. Harper Dent and I were like some ticking time bomb about to explode. “And I can’t forget those bruises on your body, and I wish I could help you but you don’t want me to.”
My heart beat with the ferocity of a magnitude eight earthquake—intense and violent, my carefully guarded secret about to be destroyed, my pathetic life revealed.
“I tried not to care about you,” she said, and I weakened right then, my tear ducts springing into unwelcome action. Nobody was supposed to care about me. Mitchell Finlayson could coast through life on his own, fight his own battles, win his own wars.
“But I can’t stop thinking about you.” She was down to a whisper. “And it’s not pity. Ireallywant to help you.”
And
I
believed
her.
Risking looking like a fool with my leaky eyes, I glanced across to her. Yeah, Mitchell Finlayson, not quite that big tough kid he made out to be.
My jacket rustled as I needlessly rearranged it on my lap. Her hand caught mine, covering it.
A small gesture,
a massive deed.
My heart quaked and shook.
“I can’t say anything.” My voice was strangulated, caught deep in my throat. I tried again. “I can’t say anything...because of Mom.” Her touch tightened, releasing my reservations. “He gave us a home when we had nothing. Without him...without him...who knows what wouldhave happened to us? Ma loves him and he’s good to her.” Harper was on the brink of tears, her chin quivering. She never looked more beautiful. “You know at the party? How I said I dream about you?”
She sniffed with laughter. “You said you dream about my hair.”
“You. Your hair.” I twirled a silky strand around my finger, reaching out to wipe the tear trailing down her cheek. “All of you.”
“He shouldn’t get away with it.” It was a heartfelt plea, and I loved her for it.
“I know it’s hard for you to understand but trust me on this. Please.” My finger stalled on her bottom lip, pink and sweet and perfectly kissable. “Ma needs him,” I whispered.
“But it’s not right,” she said, and I could see that my pain was her pain. I pulled her in close, letting her rest on my shoulder, my hand threading its way through her divine hair.
“No,” I said, gaining strength from her concern, “it’s not right. I know. But I’ll leave for college next year.” College was always the goal, my plan, my escape. I had a way out, but Ma, she never did. Life had dealt her a bad hand, and I had learned a long time ago that I had the power to make it worse.
My rebellion was silence.
My rebellion was sacrifice.
For my mom’s sake.
My mom, who I loved more than anything, anyone...
Except this girl next to me,
