Page 8 of Collided (Bellmare High #1)

8

Heath

MARIE STANDS IN FRONT OF ME WITH A SHARP LOOK ON HER FACE. She’s a couple of inches shorter than me, but it never matters to her.

“Don’t skip lunch. Hope is sitting with us, and I want us all to be friends with her,” she tells me in a stern tone. She’s taking this friendship to heart. I remember she used to cry because no one wanted to be friends with her, and she just wanted a friend. Something so simple but seemed impossible. All because of a mean trio who bullied her, spread rumors about her and made sure no one befriended her. Thank fuck they got expelled.

I let out an exasperated sigh. “You can’t just bring someone into the group, Blondie.”

Putting her hands on her hips, she glares at me. “I can and I will.”

“You’re stubborn.”

“A little.” I arch an eyebrow. “Fine, a little too much.”

“Indeed.”

Marie picks up her white bag with sunflowers on it that Sebastian painted. It took him a whole weekend, but he was dedicated because he wanted to make her happy. She changes stuff frequently, but the bag is the one thing she uses every day.

“I’m going to find a table. You guys get food.” She runs into the building leaving me with Sebastian.

Sebastian chuckles. “Damn. She’s so excited that she forgot to kiss me.”

“She’ll dump your ass soon.”

He looks unshaken. “She won’t. She doesn’t give up on people. And she loves me.”

That she does with her entire sunshine being.

I start walking toward my car. “Didn’t hear the last bit.”

He laughs as he follows me.

I drive to the diner we usually eat at. Sebastian rattles off the order and then pays for it. Two minutes later we sit in the parking lot in wait.

“So…”

I turn on the AC. “So what?”

“Mare told me that you told Hope to stay away from you. What’s up with that?”

“Nothing,” I say rather too quickly.

Fuck.

A smirk curls on his lips. “I see.”

He’s thrilled with the idea that he can tease me about a girl. God knows I did the same.

“What?” Rolling down the window, I pluck out a cigarette from the pack and light it up.

“You’re afraid of catching feelings for her.”

That won’t ever fucking happen.

I’ve never gotten serious with a girl. They don’t interest me. Sure, I can make out for a bit, but that’s about it. I’ve never taken things beyond kissing. Not because I’m not attracted to girls or anything. It’s just my mind doesn't rest when our lips are moving, and my hands are roaming their body. I’m supposed to feel something, fall into lust, or whatever, but I crave to be alone.

I exhale the smoke out of the window. “You’re delusional, Bash.”

“Call me whatever you want. Deep down, you know I’m right.”

I flicker down the ashes and spare him a glance. “Quite contrary to your belief, I won't fall in love with her. She’s not my type at all.”

He scoffs. “No girl is your type.”

“Precisely. I’m not interested in girls.”

Confusion flickers across his face. “Is it boys then? Because that would be okay too.”

That comment pushes me off the edge and anger makes my blood hot.

He knows I’m not gay. If I were, he’d be the first to know. However, it pisses me off that Marie and he both think there’s a chance I’m gay because I don’t mingle with girls.

“Shut the fuck up.”

He gestures to the cigarette. “This isn’t right for your health. You can stop now. You’re still young.”

“You’re one to talk.”

He looks out of the window. “It’ll get you killed.”

“Why else do you think I do it?”

Sebastian has listened to my suicidal talk enough to not fight with me on the matter. Nothing he says will change my mind or the way I feel about life.

People live life, I’m getting pushed through it, because I can’t stay stuck at one point in life. Just because I wake up every day doesn’t mean I want to.

There’s a cocktail of emotions inside of me. Anger, frustration, guilt, sadness, and what fucking else. I can’t tell someone what I’m actually feeling. All I know is, I’m not fucking fine. Not even close to it. I’m miserable because of what happened last year. I can’t get over the death of my sister.

“How’s your mother?” I ask, instead.

“She isn’t doing drugs.” That’s as far as he’d answer that question.

He stares at me, and I already know what he’s going to ask. “Did your dad call?”

“Yeah. I had a match, so I missed it.” That man doesn’t give up. He’s been insistently calling me every day, for God knows what. He knows I hate him, but that doesn’t stop him from making me hate him even more. Parents are so fucking aggravating.

“I have a match tonight,” he offers.

Sebastian and I both fight at an underground boxing ring where bets are placed, and drugs are exchanged every night. That place is a nutshell of gangs, drug dealers, and criminals as free as birds. Every single person there is on a payroll. To fight in that place, you have to be extremely good and also dangerous enough to survive. Every junkie and addict from the town is also there for their next fix. Armed men walk around like it’s a playground and weapons are sold like candies. At the right price, you can get anything.

After Emery’s death, I was filled with rage and guilt. Enough to drown in it and still swim back up on the surface. It happened to me every single day. Like an endless loop.

Sitting at home, I dwelled on the past and her, more than I was supposed to—I still do—and let myself be gripped with so many emotions that every day felt like I was dying. Until I found that place and learned how to box.

Boxing is a violent game. I get hurt often, but the physical pain numbs the emotional pain. For a little while I’m not drowning. I can breathe something other than fucking emotions. I breathe air.

“You wanna spar after school?” I suggest.

He grins. “You want to get your ass kicked?”

Stubbing the finished cigarette, I throw it away, and then face him. “I kick your ass every single time.”

A chuckle bursts out of him. “Shut up. I’ve knocked you down once.”

“Only once,” I remind him.

“You’re so fucking so cocky. I have no idea why we are friends.”

I put the car into motion. “Sure, blame it on me.”

“Your ego needs to be put in check.”

After getting the bags, I drive us back to school.

Together we walk toward the table situated at the end of the cafeteria hall. Heads turn in our direction, and I sense girls staring at me, but I ignore them. Seriously! I’m so fucking tired of being gawked at. There are plenty of other guys to fuck. I don’t want to be bothered. Besides, it’s not like I’ll fuck them anyway. Sex is the last thing on my mind.

“Hey.” Sebastian kisses Marie and sits next to her.

I take the seat next to Hope and find her fidgeting with her hands under the table.

Look at me. I don’t like anyone else to look at me, but it’s different with her.

I’m about to ask her what’s wrong when—

“Sorry, we got carried away.” Marie tames her hair and glances at Sebastian who smiles at her.

“Is there a time when you two aren’t fucking?” These two and their PDA remind me that I’d never have that in life. I would never find someone who’d understand me and choose to stay with me, after seeing how dark I am. I naturally repel everyone—which is partly my fault, I admit.

“When we’re at your place.” Marie hands everyone a burger and also pulls out the fries.

I roll my eyes. “I heard you in the guest room the other day.”

“It was one kiss,” she defends, blushing hard while Sebastian coughs.

“Sounded more than one kiss to me.”

“Shut up you pervert.” She is red like a brick.

“And the time you were—”

“Stop it, man.” Sebastian kicks me under the table.

“Fine.”

Marie takes a bite of her burger and says, “What’s the plan for Friday?”

“I think we decided to go ice skating,” Sebastian answers quickly, then looks at Hope. “Would you like to come with us?”

Before I can open my mouth, Marie jumps in. “You definitely should, Hope. It’ll be so much fun. We can get a nice dinner afterward and a karaoke night. Or we can hit the arcade and—”

“Babe, let her think.” Sebastian kisses Marie’s cheek and rubs her back.

“Sorry, I got too excited. I'm crazy like that.”

Sebastian kisses her temple. “It’s fine. I love your crazy.”

I feel sick to my stomach with being a 24/7 witness to the romance between my best friends. I’d say get a room, but it’s me who regrets it later because I can hear them.

Sebastian faces Hope and asks again, “What do you say, Hope? Tag along with us. It’ll be fun.”

Marie clasps her hands together vibrating with her fucking sunshine energy . “Yes, please. That way Heath won’t be alone. He hates when he’s alone.”

What the actual fuck?

She did not just fucking say that.

For fuck’s sake.

“I don’t hate being alone,” I retort.

“Yes, you do. You told me.”

“I did not.” I grind my teeth, hating that she’s right.

“You did.”

“I was drunk.” I shouldn’t have drunk Vodka. What was I thinking?

“But you swore. And you can’t lie when you swear.”

“I was out of my senses.”

“More like feelings.”

“Tell me again, why were you there when I was drunk?” I ask, growing irritated.

“Because I’m your other best friend.” She grins proudly.

I scowl and run my fingers through my hair. “I'm not your best friend. I tolerate you.”

“That’s what true friendship is.”

Ignoring her, I check on Hope, but she refuses to look at me. She’s also stiff like a board beside me which confuses the fuck out of me.

Is my proximity bothering her?

Is she feeling sick?

What the fuck is it?

I want to fucking know it.

For the past ten minutes, Marie hasn’t stopped chattering, and I’ve noticed the lack of response from Hope. She hasn’t agreed to come to the ice rink, either.

Something is wrong with her. I can feel it in my bones. I also know it isn’t my place to intervene. She’s got Marie to talk to. Besides, I told her myself that I wanted her to stay away from me because deep down I know she’s trouble for me. Since that day in the hallway, I haven’t been able to forget her. She’s been at the forefront of my brain. My thoughts keep revolving around her. Her lonely, brown eyes make me weak, strange, and more. I don’t know what it is. But I know there is something.

Hope is better off without me. I’m no good. I’m rude, angry, and frustrated. No sane girl would want to be anywhere near me.

Why am I even thinking that?

“Hope, you're coming, right?” Marie shares her fries with her.

Hope twiddles her fingers in her lap. The movements get hasty as if she’s nervous.

“Um, sure. Friday it is, right?” Her voice comes out breathy as she stares at her.

Marie nods. “Yes. I’ll even pick you up and drop you off.”

“You don’t have to,” she rushes.

“It’s no big deal.”

Hope nods. She doesn’t touch her burger and instead stares at the table. She wants to make herself disappear. I know that feeling all too well, but I hate that she’s feeling it.

When school ends, I go up to the rooftop and smoke a couple of cigarettes. Once I feel at peace, I get to the empty parking lot.

I spot Hope sitting on the entrance stairs. She’s holding her head in one hand and staring at her phone.

My first instinct is to call Marie and tell her to get here, but then I remember she left with Sebastian to buy groceries for his home. I swear the two of them are like a married couple.

I spare Hope another glance. That girl isn’t your problem. Keep walking.

I turn around only for my heart to scream at me to do the right thing.

For fuck’s sake. Muttering a few more curses, I stride in her direction and climb up the stairs.

The sound of my footsteps gets her attention, and she lifts her head. “Hi.” She smiles shyly.

I stand rigid and ask in a rough tone, “Why are you here so late?” I’m agitated with myself for caring when I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it.

She grimaces as if she’s in pain. “I have a headache, and I missed the bus, so I’m booking a cab.”

My eyes dart to her phone which is cracked from the top side, then back at her.

“I’m going to grab something for lunch. You can come with me, I’ll drop you off.” I lie.

I hate myself.

Hope checks her phone. “I’m not hungry and my ride is an hour away.”

“What?” My voice raises. She winces.

Fucking dammit.

“You should go.” She avoids my stare.

I want to leave.

I want to stay away from her.

But I just can’t.

“Come with me.” I jog down the stairs. When I look back she’s staring at me with a frown.

The sun rays fall on her and the red turtleneck she’s wearing gives me sweat. How is she not feeling hot?

Her dark brown hair falls like waves over her front and reaches a few inches below her breasts— do not focus on them —and is curly at the ends. The black jeans hug her legs and accentuate her thighs— stop looking at those curves— and she has blue Converse on.

“You don’t have to do this,” Hope says, holding a novel to her chest as she stands up and follows me to my car.

“I know.” For some strange reason, I want to.

“Then why—”

I hold the door open for her. She gives me a puzzled look but gets inside. With a deep breath, I get in the driver’s seat.

We stop at a streetlight, and I turn on the AC. There’s no way she isn’t hot under that fucking turtleneck.

“What do you want to eat?” I ask, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel because I’m fucking restless. I’ve never had someone in my car before. It’s my personal space that’s now invaded by her.

“Um…” she fidgets with her fingers and refuses to look at me.

Yeah. I don’t fucking like it when that happens.

I want her to always look at me.

“I'm hungry, so hurry up,” I grumble, annoyed with myself. This girl is throwing me off my orbit.

Her cheeks turn red. “I don’t have money, so I’ll just eat at home.”

I stiffen, not knowing how to say the right thing.

“It’s just food,” I reply nonchalantly.

She meets my gaze. “Food that you’d pay for.”

“I wouldn’t let you pay anyway. It’s not the right thing.”

“So, you’re a gentleman?” Her tone is playful which is better than her shy replies.

Am I a gentleman? I don’t know. I’ve never been with a girl before. All I’ve done is kissing and that doesn’t really require mannerism. Also, no girl has ever sat in my car before. It’s always been me. Precisely why there isn’t any garbage lying around on the floor and stuff splattered on the seats.

I bought this car, a black McLaren 600LT, with my trust fund money—to piss off Dad—two years ago.

When Marie, Sebastian, and I hang out, we either take his jeep or her car. I don’t want them exchanging body fluids on my damn seats. As long as they are alive I want to keep my car Sebastian-Marie-sex-free.

Titling my head, I stare at her. “Only for you.”

Her cheeks further redden, but she smiles. Fuck it’s a good smile . The kind that says we have an inside joke.

Moving forward, I turn on the music. Chase Atlantic blasts in high volume. I quickly turn it down.

I glance at Hope.

Our eyes connect and something clicks. It’s like the world stops moving.

A car horn blares from behind us and breaks the spell.

I find the light green. Taking a hard right, I speed through the street and pull up into the drive-thru of a local diner I usually eat at.

The woman asks for our order. Hope chooses a small burger. I roll my eyes and order a big one for her with fries and a few nuggets, and then rattle off my order: a chicken wings bucket, diet coke, and extra-large fries.

I pay using my credit card. Then drive down to the next station where the line is fucking long, so we wait.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Hope whispers.

I face her. “Do what?” I know exactly what she’s talking about.

“Order so many things for me.”

“It’s done now.”

She rushes out. “I’ll pay you back.”

I glare at her. “No, you won’t. When you’re with me, you’re not going to pay for anything.”

“Like ever?” she asks with a cute frown.

Cute? What the fuck is wrong with me?

“Like ever,” I finalize.

I need to put distance between us. Because sitting here with her is suffocating my damn heart. It’s beating rapidly. I never knew it could beat this fast.

Picking up the order from the station, I park a few blocks away. Handing her food, I get mine and start eating.

From the corner of my eyes, I watch her open the wrap of the burger and take a bite. I feel content that she’s eating when she skipped lunch. I swear, she’s so fucking skinny it makes me worried.

“Do you have any siblings?” I ask, out of nowhere.

“No.”

It must be so fucking lonely for her to be on her own all the time. I have Marie and Sebastian who are always at my place, but she’s got no one.

No wonder why her lonely eyes haunt me.

“What do you do all day?”

She waves the novel at me. “I read books.”

“You don't get bored?” My eyebrows pinch.

She laughs. “ Never . It’s so interesting to read about other people’s lives. When you open the pages you know nothing about them, but as you keep flipping you get to know the characters so well that by the end it feels like you’ve known them your entire life. It’s almost like you have a friend.”

That’s the most she’s ever talked. It makes me want to listen to her more.

“Huh?” I act clueless so she can elaborate.

She straightens and her eyes fill with fire I haven’t seen in her before. “Standalone books are great. But when you read a series, it’s the best thing ever. If there are six or more books, you feel like those characters are your best friends. How you’ve gone without them in life makes you question everything. Closing the last page of the last book is the most excruciating experience ever but also so heartwarming and just perfect.”

A silly smile takes over her face and her eyes brighten with the light she’s always missing.

I realize something.

Hope looks dreamy when she talks about books—the look is pure magic.

“What genre do you read?”

Just like that, the light goes away, and intense blush covers her cheeks. Hiding her eyes from me, she takes a mouthful bite.

I find that amusing and lean back in my seat. Fascinating.

“Mostly romance,” she replies.

“So, you’re a hopeless romantic?”

“I am.”

Before I can ask more, she crumples the wrap and puts it in the paper bag. Taking out the fries she starts on them and gazes at me with curiosity. “What about you? Do you have any siblings?”

Suddenly the chicken wings taste like shit in my mouth.

How am I supposed to answer that simple question? I don’t.

I shut down. Like I always do.

She stares at me but doesn’t say anything. She waits, waits, and waits. She doesn’t push me by speaking a single word. I find that both endearing and irritating. Former because she’s not pressing me, latter because she’s waiting for me to answer, and I don’t want to.

I dust myself off. “It’s late, I should drop you off.”

“Okay.”

We put away the bags in a nearby trash can.

The more I drive, the more the tension grows in the car. My hands tighten around the steering wheel as I try to stay calm and not get flooded with emotional pain. The mere mention of my dead sister pushes me into a state of grave sadness. My whole body gets paralyzed, and my mind fills with memories and glimpses of her.

Despite a year getting past, I still get triggered. I haven’t learned how to cope with grief.

I don’t want to let go of her. I have something to hold onto, even if it’s destroying me from the inside out. It’s better than moving on and forgetting her, having nothing of hers to keep with me anymore.

“Do you have water?” Hope breaks my thoughts.

I point to the divider between us. “It’s here.”

I stop the car so she can drink.

“You should put your bag in the back,” I suggest as she struggles to balance it on her lap. It looks heavy.

Taking her bag, she leans over to put it in the back, when her turtleneck pulls down and I see bruises on her neck.

What the actual fuck?

Did someone choke her? It sure looks like it.

Rage washes over me and I can’t control myself.

“Why are there marks on your neck?” My voice is cold like ice.

Hope freezes. “W-what?”

“ Marks . Why are they on your neck?” I ask again, my hand curls around the steering wheel as anger seizes my entire arm.

She gulps then says, “Oh…it’s nothing.”

“It doesn’t look like fucking nothing to me.”

“It’s not what it looks like.”

I glare at her. “What does that mean?”

“I’m fine.”

Two words. The same I use all the fucking time because I can’t explain, and no one will understand.

I narrow my eyes on her. “I saw them. Did someone choke you? Is someone hurting—”

“It’s late. I want to go home.” She pulls the collar up to her chin. Her fingers quiver, and her chest is moving rapidly as if air can’t be contained inside her.

I’m making her anxious, which is something I never want to do. I want her to be comfortable with me, like I am with her. But I can’t ignore the fact that someone put their hands on her. I just fucking can’t.

She won’t tell me and if I push her she might end up crying. I don’t know how to deal with crying girls.

However, something tells me if she cries, I’ll calm her down anyway.

“Address,” I ask in a low tone.

She rambles off her street and looks out of the window.

The playfulness from earlier is gone—all because of me. I asked her something she clearly didn’t want to talk about.

How the fuck am I supposed to overlook that? I know what I saw. Those were fucking finger marks. Someone tried to choke her.

My heart drops in my stomach when I think there could be more under her turtleneck. Someone did worse than—

Shut the fuck up. You need to back off. The warning blinks in red light with sirens blaring in my ears.

I need to back off. She is nothing to me.

I pull up to her block and drive down until she tells me to stop.

Grabbing her bag, she escapes my car like I’ll kill her if she spends an extra second with me.

I’d never hurt her. If only she knew.

Hurrying up the stairs, she slips inside the house without looking at me.

I stay outside and listen to the silence, just to make sure she’s okay. Then drive to my house.