A Proscriptive Relationship (58 page)

“
I need your number to contact you if I find something, and vice versa. I’ll give you Chris’s too,” Jeremy explained. “Lance, do you have a house phone?”

“
I’ll pick up a new cell phone after I cancel my old one,” Lance responded, looking grumpy. “Waste of my money . . .”

“
He has a house phone,” I told Jeremy, shaking my head at Lance—didn’t he know they’d replace his phone for free? “I’ll text you the number, Jeremy.”

Jeremy nodded. “Alright, then we are all in contact.”

“
Yep,” the rest of us chorused.

“
Then let’s go,” Jeremy ordered, clapping his hands. He turned to me. “Holly, want a ride home with me?”

I gave him a wary look. “You drive like a maniac.”

“
I’m not that bad,” he protested, grinning.

“
I live like, two doors down from her,” Lance told Jeremy. “I’ve got her.”

Jeremy looked disappointed. “Fine.”

I laughed. “Sorry, Jeremy, maybe next time.”

Jeremy shrugged, heading towards the door. “I’ll talk to you guys later,” he called, waving over his shoulder.

“
You ready?” Lance asked, looking at Casey, and then me.

“
Yep,” Casey responded.

I glanced at Mr. Heywood, and blinked in surprise when I found him staring intensely at me. “Um . . .”

He smirked. “Lance, I have to talk to Holly for a bit. You and Casey go ahead, and I’ll bring Holly home after.”

Lance frowned. “Why can’t you talk to her in front of us?”

Casey rolled her eyes, shoving Lance’s shoulder, and steering him towards the door. “Shut up, Lance. Let’s go.”

“
But—”

“
No buts,” Casey said firmly, sending me a secret smile. She winked. “Have fun, you two.”

I blushed, ducking my head. If it wasn’t Jeremy, it was Casey. “Bye Lance, bye Case.”

“
I still think—” Lance started, but Casey kicked him.

“
Keep walking,” she ordered.

I grinned after them. Then the fact that Mr. Heywood and I were all alone hit me, and I held my breath. This was the first time we were alone since the other night. A blush tried to make its way to my face, but I forced it away. There was nothing to be embarrassed about. But that wasn’t even a fraction of my feelings.

I quickly smacked my hands to my cheeks. I had to stop thinking. Mr. Heywood was giving me a funny look when I turned to him. “Bug,” I lied with a tiny smile. “So, what’d you want to talk about?”

Mr. Heywood’s expression suddenly turned solemn and I felt my heart drop. Immediately my palms became sweaty, and I forced myself to stay calm. He hadn’t even said a word yet. There was nothing to be nervous about.

“
Holly, before I start talking I want you to consider everything I say, okay?” Mr. Heywood started, giving me a serious look. “No matter how you feel about it.”

“
O-okay,” I said quietly. What did he want to talk about?

“
There’s two things I want to talk about,” Mr. Heywood told me, as if reading my thoughts. “One of them, you won’t like. The second, we need to think carefully through.”

I bit my lip. “Alright . . .”

“
So do you want the bad or the good first?” Mr. Heywood asked with a wry grin.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It was better to get the worse over and done with. “Bad.”

LESSON forty

Mr. Heywood handed me a cup of tea. “Here. I guess I ran out of coffee.”

“
I want sugar,” I demanded, looking at the cup of tea.

Mr. Heywood gave me a flat look. “You know where it is, go get it yourself.”

I pursed my lips at him. “But—”

“
While you’re at it, get me a spoon.”

Pushing myself off the couch, I trudged to the kitchen. Mr. Heywood was obviously stalling. He’s the one who wanted to talk to me. Why was he making me suffer by delaying the talk? I felt sick because of how much I wanted to know what the “bad” was. The sugar was right above the silverware drawer so I quickly grabbed it and the spoon before returning to the living room.

“
Here,” I told Mr. Heywood, standing above him, holding out the spoon.

He reached up to grab the spoon, but instead of grabbing it he grabbed my wrist and pulled me down next to him.

“
You can sit closer, I won’t bite,” he told me, amusement in his voice.

I blushed, causing him to chuckle. “Mr. Heywood—”

“
Chris.”

“
Chris,” I corrected myself. “What do you want to talk about?”

He lost his grin. “Straight to the point, huh?”

“
I feel like our roles are reversed,” I commented, smiling slightly. “Usually I’m the one beating around the bush.”

“
It’s about what happens if Shawn actually did get away,” Mr. Heywood admitted.

I raised an eyebrow. “Why aren’t we talking about this in front of everyone else? Shouldn’t they know?”

“
Because this is about something they don’t know about,” Mr. Heywood told me. “Well, Jeremy might know, but I wanted Jeremy out of my house.”

“
Something they don’t know?”

Mr. Heywood nodded. “Yep.”

I frowned at him, thinking deeply. What was something Jeremy might know, I knew, and Lance and Casey didn’t know? Nothing came to mind right away. “I don’t know,” I finally said.

“
If Shawn did escape,” Mr. Heywood started slowly, as if choosing his words carefully. “We’re going to go to the police and telling them everything.”

It took a second for his words to register in my mind. When they did, I gasped, my eyes growing wide. I started to shake my head. “No, Mr. Heywood. No.”

“
Holly—”

“
If we tell them won’t you go back to jail?”

Mr. Heywood stayed silent for a moment. “There’s a chance,” he admitted quietly.

“
Then don’t—”

“
Holly, if we tell them what’s going on, they will find Shawn and he will go to jail,” Mr. Heywood interrupted, giving me a stern look. “If Shawn goes to jail, this is all over.”

“
But at the expense of you going to jail as well!” I protested. “That’s not fair!”

“
It is fair, Holly,” Mr. Heywood responded. “I was told if I got involved with the gang again, I was going back to jail. I did get involved, and what’s worse, I got three teenagers involved as well.”

“
I’m an adult,” I stated stubbornly.

“
Technically you’re still a teenager,” Mr. Heywood said softly. “And I’m responsible for getting you involved.”

I shook my head. “We aren’t telling the police.”

“
Holly.”

“
We can’t!”

“
Holly, you promised me you’d at least consider it,” Mr. Heywood reminded me.

“
There’s nothing to consider!”

Mr. Heywood gave me a flat look. “Yes, there is. Your safety. Jeremy’s safety. Casey’s safety. Lance’s safety.”

“
Your safety,” I commented quietly, lowering my gaze.

Mr. Heywood nodded. “I’m not as worried about that, but yes.”

“
I still don’t want you going to jail,” I stated stubbornly.

“
You’re being selfish.”

“
Can’t I be selfish?” I cried, turning to look at him. “After all I’ve been through, can’t I be a little selfish?”

“
Yes, you could, if it wasn’t you being selfish for me,” Mr. Heywood answered, his eyes piercing into mine. “Think about everyone, not just me.”

I bit my tongue. What was I doing? Putting my friends safety in jeopardy so Mr. Heywood wouldn’t go to jail? I didn’t want anyone to get hurt anymore, but I didn’t want Mr. Heywood going to jail either. How could I choose? There was no way I could!

“
It’s not fair,” I finally said, clenching my fists.

“
Holly—”

Tears sprung to my eyes. Mr. Heywood was right. I knew he was right. If it really came down to it, I’d know what I’d choose.

Mr. Heywood sighed, taking my hand into his. “I know it’s a hard decision for you to make too.”

I sniffed, grasping his hand tightly. “How can I send the man I love to jail?”

“
Holly . . .”

I lifted my head up to see Mr. Heywood giving me a soft look. More tears filled my vision and without any hesitation I shifted so I could hug him. He sighed quietly again as I squeezed him hard, doing my best not to cry.

“
Holly,” Mr. Heywood repeated, putting his arms around me. “This is only if Shawn’s still out there. It’s only a slight possibility.”

“
I know that,” I told him, burying my face in his shoulder. “But I love you, Mr. Heywood—Chris. I don’t want you in jail.”

Mr. Heywood gently pushed me away from him. I pulled back, staring at him in confusion. His face was only a few inches away from mine. “I love you too,” he told me, brushing a stray piece of my hair out of my face. “So please, don’t cry over me. Hopefully it won’t come to this.”

Mr. Heywood moved his head closer to me, sending my heart racing. Within seconds, our lips met. I closed my eyes, enjoying the soft touch of his lips, and the taste of the tea he had been drinking earlier. Once again, his lips were slightly chapped. After a moment, he suddenly froze. Confused, I pulled away from him. He was staring at the TV screen, looking astonished. My heart jumped into my chest as I quickly turned around to look at the TV. The news was on.

“
No way,” Mr. Heywood stated, pushing away from the couch to walk over to the television. He dropped to his knees in front of it, putting a hand on the side. “Holy shit.”

There was Shawn.

Handcuffed.

With the police.

Running across the bottom of the screen were words I couldn’t focus enough to be able to read. My heart was pounding in my chest, watching as the police led Shawn towards the local jail.

“
Suspected for attempted murder?” Mr. Heywood muttered. “They must have found the same fingerprints on Shawn’s gun as on the one that recovered after Lance was shot.”

We were both unable to tear our eyes away from the screen. A quiet laugh escaped my lips, and then a louder one. Mr. Heywood finally took his eyes of the television, glancing at me quickly. I began to laugh harder, crossing my arms over my stomach. Mr. Heywood raised an eyebrow.

“
You good?”

I shook my head, feeling my eyes water again.

“
What’s wrong?” Mr. Heywood asked, now sounding concerned. “Tell me.”

I forced myself to stop laughing. Running the back of my hand over my eyes, I cleared my throat, giving Mr. Heywood a crooked grin. “After all that . . . I really thought for a moment Shawn would have somehow escaped the police. I thought you were going to go back to jail. I thought we wouldn’t be able to see each other. I thought—”

“
Holly, shut up and kiss me.”

Before I could protest, or comply, Mr. Heywood grabbed my head, bringing it closer to his. My senses were overcome by the smell of his cologne, the gentle caress of his breath, and the proximity of his face. Our lips met, a little roughly, and our teeth knocked together. I immediately pulled away, blushing.

“
Sorry,” I stuttered.

He chuckled quietly. “That was probably my fault. Let’s try again.” He leaned towards me again and I stayed stock-still as he kissed me, much more gently this time. After a second he pulled away.

I pouted slightly. He never let a kiss last longer than five seconds. He smirked at my look, and then kissed me again, pulling away before I could react.

“
Stop that,” I demanded.

“
Stop what?” he asked innocently.

I glared at him. “Pulling away before I can kiss you back.”

“
Like this?” he asked, quickly pecking me on the lips.

“
Just like that!”

Mr. Heywood cocked his head to the side, smirking again. “Well, if you don’t want me to kiss you like that, why don’t you kiss me?”

I stared at him in surprise. Me kiss him? My face grew hot and I looked away. Mr. Heywood chuckled, putting his hands on my waist, making me jump.

“
Can you do it?” he asked in a teasing tone. “I don’t think you can.”

I turned to glare at him again. “I—I can!”

“
Prove it.”

Blushing furiously I leaned forward. Once again the scent of his alluring cologne filled my nose, and I hesitated only a second before pressing my lips to his. To make sure he wouldn’t pull away, I moved my hands to the back of his head, tangling them in his hair. He responded to the kiss, moving his hands from my waist up to my back. There was a slight pain on my bottom lip, and I opened my mouth in protest. Mr. Heywood wasted no time turning the kiss into a French one. Soon enough, I was breathing heavily, trying to take in air while attached at the lips to Mr. Heywood. We had definitely passed the five-second mark this time.

Suddenly Mr. Heywood pushed me away, his chest raising and falling quickly. Confused, I stared at him while trying to catch my own breath. He shook his head, leaning back onto the couch.

“
I wasn’t expecting that,” he commented, still slightly breathless. “I thought I was your first kiss?”

“
You were,” I told him.

“
Then where’d you learn to kiss like that?” he demanded. “I’ve only kissed you twice before this.”

I blushed. “I didn’t learn anywhere . . .”

Mr. Heywood groaned, running a hand through his hair. “This is going to be hard.”

“
What is?”

“
Keeping up my self-control,” Mr. Heywood informed me. “If you can kiss like that . . .”