The Truth About Letting Go (22 page)

My breathing becomes painful, and I reach for her waist again. I lean into the hug, and we both hold each other and cry. To think I suspected her of falling in love with someone else, of not caring. Oh, god. To lose Dad was hard enough for me, but he wasn’t… it wasn’t like losing Jordan would be. I remember all those times I looked away, embarrassed by their kisses and hugs and displays of affection. Taking a break from Jordan nearly killed me, but at least I know I’ll see him again.

My tears come faster, and for several long minutes we stay that way. Just holding each other. I don’t know what to do or how to make this better, and it seems like a long time before I’m able to speak again.

“I used to look in the mirror,” I say. “But I had to stop.”

I feel her nodding, but she doesn’t speak.

“Oh, Mom,” I whisper, leaning back. “Will we ever make it through this?”

She still doesn’t answer, and as I study her face, her eyes downcast and wet with tears, I realize she’s been wondering the same thing.

All those times she’s been gone or hiding in her bedroom. It’s like me running away with Colt or hiding in my cave. We’ve been hoping against hope if we just wait long enough, we’ll wake up and discover it’s all been a bad dream. It’s all over and Dad is still with us.

But that’s not going to happen.

This is our life now, and the more we try to hold onto him, the more we hurt ourselves and each other. The more we lose what we do have, what we still have.

I lean forward into her arms, and in spite of all the tears and the pain, I feel like I’ve gotten her back. And I think it’s what I’ve needed most. Her help to find my feet again.

The sun is coming up, and the sky is turning yellow, orange, and pink. I slowly sit up while my mother continues to cry silently. I watch the sunrise, and for the first time in many months, I feel sure somehow we will make it through this.

Chapter 18

Patty is impatient. His dark eyes sit in his dark face, and he’s reading a thick set of papers when I take my seat.

“Yes, Miss Lockett,” he says in a brisk monotone. “Your attendance has not been exemplary these last few weeks, but we’ll overlook it because of your recent personal challenges.”

“Thank you, sir,” I say. Then I clear my throat. “Mr. Patel…”

I’m so nervous, my knees feel like they’ll knock together if I let them. I don’t know what’s going to happen when I come clean. I should’ve told Mom about this. But then she would’ve wanted to come with me. Everybody wants to help me, but I have to do this myself.

His dark eyes rise to mine, waiting.

“Mr. Patel, I have something to tell you.” A bead of sweat tickles its way down the center of my back. What will he do to me?

“Yes, Miss Lockett?”

I clear my throat once more. “I did all that stuff Friday. It was me and not Trevor Martin. I set him up.”

Silence fills his office. For a few moments the only noise is the ticking of the clear plastic clock on his desk. Our principal simply looks at me, frozen with the stack of papers still in his hands. Then he blinks.

“What are you saying, Miss Lockett?”

Saying it once somehow makes saying it again easier. “I did the pranks last Friday. I spray painted the panther, the initials, the video, I did all of it.”

“You did it.”

“Yes, sir.”

His brow creases, and he lowers the stack of papers. He clasps his small, dark hands together, fingers laced, on top of them. “Tell me, Miss Lockett, Are you romantically involved with Trevor Martin?”

“What? No, sir!”

He presses his lips together and nods like he knows something. “I find it hard to believe you would be in possession of a video of that nature.”

I look down at my hands. I never got back to Colt on this, so he doesn’t know I’m in here right now. And I still don’t feel comfortable ratting him out without him knowing about it.

“Well, I did. I was. I mean, it was me.”

“Uh huh,” he says. “And we have security camera footage showing a male student in my office the night before the incident. It was not you, Miss Lockett.”

He returns to studying the pages on his desk.

I hadn’t expected that reply. I don’t know what else to say. “I asked someone to help me. But it wasn’t Trevor! He’s innocent.”

Mr. Patel lifts his eyes and studies me. “What’s the name of this helper?”

I chew my lip and look down. Now I’m stuck. “I’d rather not say.”

“Then we have no choice but to proceed with our current course of action. Mr. Martin does not deny the allegations. In fact, he seems rather proud of himself.”

He would
.

I remember Trevor’s behavior that morning outside the office. I guess if he’s going down, he might as well go down blazing.

I grip the arms of my chair and exhale loudly. “Just… wait. Don’t do anything yet. I’ll be back.”

I leave, pulling out my phone as I walk and texting Colt.

* * *

Colt’s leaning against my locker when I get there, that ever-present grin on his face. “I knew you wouldn’t really pick that guy over me. But I didn’t think you’d be back so fast.” He reaches for my waist. “Not that I’m complaining.”

I catch his arms and turn, pulling him after me. “I need to talk to you about Friday.”

“Sorry. Friday’s taken.” He leans against the wall and pulls me close. “But I’m free every other night this week.”

“Would you stop it and listen?” I push him back. “I’m talking about last Friday. What we did.”

“You mean what we didn’t do?”

“I mean here at school. Okay, Thursday night? The things?”

He exhales and straightens up, following me around the corner and into an empty classroom. “What about it? It was epic, and some dumbass took the heat. The end.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.” I cross my arms and look down. “I’m going to tell Patty we did it.”

“What? Why?” He looks at me like I’ve lost it. Again. “Okay, I mean sure. It turned out way better than I expected, but one day we’ll go on record. In a few months. Or a year. To our
friends
.”

“I’m telling Mr. Patel today, and I wanted to give you a chance to get ready.”

He’s quiet. Green eyes study me, and I can’t tell what he’s thinking.

“So?” I say.

“What’s going on with you, Ashley? I mean, I get your dad died and all, but this back and forth shit’s screwing you up.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m saying you’re a hot bad girl. And you’re a hot good girl. But this straddling the fence is going to get you dumped by everybody. Pick a side.”

“You’re right.” I cross my arms over my stomach. “I just… I don’t know which side fits right now.”

Everything that happened yesterday and the day before and the days before, all of it’s piling up on me. And I still don’t know where I stand. Little pieces are coming back, but I’m not out of the woods. My life still doesn’t feel right or whole. I’m beginning to think it never will, but I’m finding my way through it.

He steps forward and pulls me into a hug. It’s not his usual cop a feel hug or even an obligatory gesture. It’s just a hug.

“I think you know,” he says, “but you can’t see it yet.”

We stay that way for a bit, my head on his shoulder, arms still crossed, his arms around me. He rubs my back a few times, then I feel him take a deep breath before he steps back.

“All right. Do what you need to do.”

“Will you get in trouble?”

“What? No way. Dad’ll make a fat donation, and it’ll all disappear.” He stops at the door and looks back. “It wasn’t even that big a deal really. Not like defacing a mascot and framing a loser. You’ll probably get hard time. Community service.”

“How would you know that?”

“I told you the first day, Lady Ashley. I’m a bad boy.”

“Right. About that,” I walk over to him, closing the space between us. “What did you do to get expelled anyway?”

“It was just a misunderstanding.”

I narrow my eyes.

“That turned into a friendly case of arson.”

“Oh!” My hand covers my mouth. “Can arson be friendly?”

“It can if I do it.”

I lower my hand, lips tight. “You know what I think?”

“Never. I only know you’re hot.”

“I think you need to work on your communication skills. People don’t get your intentions aren’t always bad.”

He nods. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

I reach out and catch his arm. “I’m serious. You should listen to me. I like you.” That wicked grin reappears, and I add, “As a friend. A great partner in crime.”

He laughs, “Right. Bonnie.”

I stay in the empty room a few minutes longer after he leaves thinking about what he said. Pick a side or get dumped by everyone. But I don’t have a side. I don’t want the things that would make me good, and I can’t commit to the things that are supposedly bad. All I want is my old life back.

All I want is something I can’t have.

* * *

Once I tell Patty Colt was my accomplice, everything changes. It seems the addition of Colt to the equation makes anything possible, and again I wonder how that misunderstanding, that “friendly” case of arson he didn’t want to explain to me, might’ve gone down.

Mom is called to school on “a serious matter” concerning me. She’s confused after last night, but she hides it well. If I weren’t her daughter, I’d probably miss the nervous movements of her hands, the constant straightening of her cuff, her finger circling the button on her coat.

Mandy’s dad is also called, and Colt’s dad, but only Mr. Frazier comes to the school. He gives mom and me an understanding smile and assures Mr. Patel the statue can be cleaned, and there’s no reason to press charges.

“I think, especially in this situation, we can overlook the kids blowing off some steam,” he says in his confident, ex-football player voice. I study his light brown hair and blue eyes. “Ashton’s death was a shock to everybody. Mandy said it’s been hard for Ashley.”

“Still, ignoring this incident sends a bad message,” Mr. Patel says. “There have to be consequences.”

“I agree,” I jump forward in my seat. “I’m not asking anybody to overlook what I did.”

“Ashley.” Mom’s voice is quiet, and she touches my arm. “Thank you, Mr. Patel.”

“And that boy should be off-limits, Miss Lockett. I would’ve hoped you would be the stronger force in that relationship, but sadly it seems you were not.”

Mandy’s dad intercepts. “We know what it’s like for these kids. Always having to toe the line. Sometimes they don’t use good judgment—especially when they’re hurting.”

He gives me a knowing look, but I’m frustrated. “It was all me—”

“Mr. Patel,” my mom interrupts me. “What did you have in mind? For Ashley’s restitution?”

He looks down at his desk and for a moment he’s lost in thought. “There’s a maintenance and clean-up crew that works here in the summer. She can join them. Cleaning up the grounds, painting.”

Mom nods. “That sounds fair.”

“I think eighty hours—”

“Eighty hours?” Mr. Frazier cuts him off. “It’s her last summer before college.”

“It is enough time to send a message,” Patty says. “I’ll give you the supervisor’s number, Ms. Lockett.”

Mom nods. I give Mr. Frazier a grateful look.

“And I will allow her to walk at graduation.”

We all stand and head for the door. Colt’s still sitting outside, but he doesn’t seem too bothered by what’s happening. Mr. Frazier catches Mom’s arm and escorts her to the side. I hear him apologizing that I have to do anything at all, but I’m not sorry. I want to pay for my crimes. And now that I know Trevor is being reinstated, a huge load is lifted from my shoulders.

“So,” Colt smiles as I sit beside him on the bench. “Community service?”

“You were right,” I glance back at him. “And you? What’d you get?”

“Well,” he leans back and slides his hands down his thighs. “I don’t get to walk at graduation. But as predicted, Dad’s secretary has been authorized to provide monetary compensation for my damages.”

He lifts my hand and holds it. “You know, sometimes parents can be gone and still be alive.”

I study my hand in his as his words sink in. Then my eyes travel to his, blue on green, and all of it, everything he’s done and why and how a misunderstanding could start as something friendly… it all makes sense to me. Anything to kill the pain.

The touch of vulnerability is gone in a laugh. “What?” he says. “You’re not feeling sorry for me are you?”

“I don’t know.”

“So I don’t get to walk at graduation. It’s okay. I haven’t been here long enough to care.”

“That isn’t what I was thinking about.”

“Anyway, I’m looking forward to moving on.”

“College?”

He shakes his head. “I’m thinking I’ll run around some, have a little fun, figure it out.”

I give him a playful smile. “You mean you don’t want to stay in Shadow Falls?”

He laughs. “Hell, no. What is up with this place? It’s like a time warp or something, and 1950 wants its ID back.”

I smile as he threads our fingers. “Yeah, it’s pretty old school. No locked doors…”

“Everybody goes to church…”

“I don’t know. I’ve gotten used to it, I guess.”

“You’d better look out, Formerly Bad Ash,” he squeezes my hand and then lets it go. “You’re getting more than used to it.”

Mom and Mr. Frazier are finished, and she’s waiting for me at the door. I glance back once more before following her out to say goodbye. She’s headed back to work; I’m headed back to class. And from here, who knows what comes next. Dragons?

At least two things are settled. Graduation is on as planned, and I have my summer all mapped out. Or eighty hours of it. I’m not even sure if I’m following Will to State now with our financial situation being as it is.

“Should I be expecting any more surprises?” Mom asks when we get out to the school’s metal, double front doors.

“God, I hope not.”

She reaches up and smoothes my hair down on the side. Then I step forward into a hug.

“Thanks,” I say. “For being here.”