Page 34 of Redemption
“Our next order of business is the potential hiring of Mallorie Jade Harrison for the position of high school nurse.” The man’s voice is bored as he leads the meeting, and I keep my eyes on him, waiting for the surprise that I know is coming—because that’s what life brings me: surprises. They are never good surprises, though, so I ready myself for the same to happen here. I keep my eyes on the man who looks familiar now that I’m studying him. He’s a large man, filling out the chair he sits in and his head towering over the others near him, even sitting down. His arms are thick, like those of an athlete who works out regularly. But even as my eyes narrow, I still can’t place him. “There have been several voices of concern about hiring Mallorie Jade as the new nurse, and while this is not typically how we do things, because of the continuous generosity of the Harrison family to this school, we have decided to give her a chance to explain to the board why she is a good fit for this position.”
Ice forms in my veins as his eyes find mine. I’m going to strangle Lily. She knew why I was invited here, yet she didn’t give me a chance to prepare. I came in here blind because she views me as a threat in her relationship with Hayes—a relationship that doesn’t even exist, according to him. Beside me, Hayes’s hand slips under the table and rests on my leg, comforting me.
Did he know this was going to happen? Is that why he’s here? Why didn’t he warn me if he did?
My eyes find him, and there’s surprise in the steel gray of his irises, along with something else—something that looks a lot like an emotion that would be dangerous for the both of us.
Looking past him, I narrow my eyes at Lily, letting all my anger burn through my stare. Her teeth slide together when she looks down at Hayes’s hand on my leg.
Clearing my throat, I push my chair back along the tile. The screech of the legs against the floor causes several people to wince, but I keep my face blank. The crowd of men and women, some whom I’ve grown up with and others whom I have not, look back at me. Judgment lies on the faces of the ones who know me, but I square my shoulders, refusing to be intimidated. They do not know me anymore. They didn’t know me to begin with.
“I didn’t know I was to speak tonight, or I would have prepared something a little more eloquent than what I am about to say,” I say, throwing a look toward Lily, who is systematically avoiding my stare. I only let my attention slip to her briefly before I pull it back to the others sitting around the table. The man at the head of the table hasn’t looked away from me. His eyes narrow as I take him in. I know him—I just can’t place where. “Many of you know me—or you think you do. You see, the girl I was before I left here—the girl I was at eighteen, but even then, I never let you see far enough in to see the person I was. Some of you have concerns that I will not be able to perform my job to the standard that you have set. However, I will counter that by saying I do not fit into the box this town has tried to shove me in. I am no longer the young girl who lived in her brother’s shadow. I am a woman who was forced to learn to live outside of it. I understand you were there to witness me stumble as I found who I was, but to many of you, I would challenge you by asking why you were never there to stick out a hand when I fell.”
Papers shuffle as several people squirm in their seats. Looking around this room, I can tell you each person who questioned if I was a good fit for this position. They are the same ones who never cared to help a young girl who was struggling to find herself. I hold their gaze the longest, unafraid of being myself in front of them any longer.
“I am a good fit for this job because I refuse to be the person that many of you weren’t to me. If you were to offer me this position, I would not sit by idly while a kid struggles because I pretend to know them. I understand that the depth of this position is not just dependent upon my knowledge of the medical field. It is also dependent upon my ability to look past the shadows of who we push these kids to be to find who it is they want to be. If you offer me this position, I will not just provide medical care for these kids—I’ll be the person I needed you to be.”
With one last glance around the table, I nod, indicating I have nothing else to say. The only person I don’t look to is Hayes because I can’t let him see how much of that speech was meant for him as much as the others sitting here. There was a time in our lives when I hoped he could be the person who could see through all the armor I put on—and for a while, he did—but eventually, he let me down, too. The day Langston died, Hayes shoved me away. I decided to be that person for myself. I stopped hoping that someone would see me—not Langston’s little sister, not a Harrison—just me.
When none of the board members say anything, I dip my head one last time and say, “I’ll wait for your decision outside.”
Collecting my phone from where it’s lying face down on the table, I turn and walk toward the door. My hand hits the cool, metal knob, ready to turn it, when there’s a screech of another chair being shoved back against the tile. Stopping, I turn my head over my shoulder to see Hayes standing, and he’s looking back at me, those gray irises that have always been my fascination sparkling with mischief.
“If you don’t hire MJ as your school nurse because of unrealistic expectations this town held over an eighteen-year-old girl, I will not accept the head coach position for the football team.” His voice is cold and menacing, and with that bombdropped into the school board’s lap, Hayes smiles down at Lilly, pats her shoulder, and walks toward me.
I’m frozen by the door, unable to move as shock courses through me for more than one reason.
Six years ago, Hayes walked away from football. I know what it means that he was even thinking about going back, and then for him to offer to give that up so that I can get a job, I wasn’t even sure I wanted in the first place—well, that means even more. A more that I’m not ready to analyze yet.
He reaches my side, and his hand falls to the small of my back. I almost flinch, not to get away from him, but from the way the heat of his skin sears through my shirt, making it hard to breathe.
“Come on, Trouble Maker,” he says with a grin that reveals who the real troublemaker is in this scenario. “Let’s go wait for the decision together.”
This is the only civilized moment Hayes and I have had since I moved back to town almost a month ago, so I don’t say anything as I let him lead me out of the room to await another future I never planned for.
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Hayes keeps his hand on my back until the door closes behind us, and then he pulls it away as if I’m on fire.
It’s fine. I didn’t want him to touch me anyway.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I say, leaning against a wall outside the room to wait.
He shrugs. “Who would I be if I wasn’t jumping in to save one of the Harrison siblings.”
The pain is quick and sharp, but it slices deep. There’s instant regret on his face, but I ignore it. I’m tired—bone-deep tired.
“No one asked you to, Hayes,” I say, stuffing my hands into the pockets of my shorts. I push off the wall, intent on wanderingthe halls and leaving him behind. I don’t have it in me to fight with him today, but to my annoyance, he follows me.
“I didn’t mean it like that, MJ.”
But I keep walking—away from him, away from the people in that room who presume to know me, away from the guilt that still smothers me over my brother’s death, away from it all.
It’s impossible to outrun the past, though, when it just keeps following you. With every turn I take down the hallways of our childhood, Hayes is right there beside me, remaining quiet after that half-hearted attempt to take back the words he had obviously been dying to say.
And when I can’t take our steps echoing against the empty halls any longer, I stop and spin toward him, catching him off guard as he tries not to run over me.
“Tell me one thing, Hayes Miller, and answer honestly, if not for me than for yourself. Back there—was that for me, or was it because you’re scared of returning to a sport youthinkyou are supposed to hate? Was I your way out?”
