A Proscriptive Relationship (19 page)

Lance’s expression now matched Mr. Heywood’s again.

“You’re not going alone,” the both warned together.

“Hey,” Jeremy cut in. “I’ll take her.”

Mr. Heywood’s attention snapped to the man behind me. “When did you get here?”

“Who’s he?” Lance demanded.

I groaned, holding my head. “Enough questions! I want to go home.”

Jeremy put a hand on my shoulder. “Trust me, I’ll get her home safely.”

Mr. Heywood narrowed his eyes slightly. “You’d better.”

Jeremy chuckled. “Unlike you, I’m not interested in high school girls.”

I glanced at Mr. Heywood, who stared at Jeremy, looking stunned. Jeremy smirked, and I couldn’t help a small smile slipping onto my lips as well. It was impossible he felt that way, but it was still amusing to see that expression on his face.

LESSON Thirteen

“
Holly, what happened to you?!”

I winced at Casey’s loud outburst. “Why are you shouting so early in the morning?”

“Your face,” Casey commented, touching her own cheek to show me what she meant.

“I fell down the stairs,” I mumbled, avoiding her gaze.

Casey laughed. “You’re so clumsy.”

I forced out a laugh too, even though I felt a little guilty. I was lying to my friend. And she easily believed me—proof of how much she trusted me.

My shoulders sagged. I was an awful person.

Casey must have noticed my bad mood. She jabbed me in the side. “Well let’s get to school! I’m sure whatever reason why you’re upset won’t matter when you see Mr. Heywood!”

I grimaced. Casey didn’t know he was part of the reason for my bad attitude.

It had only been one day since the fight had gone down between Mr. Heywood and Lance. I hadn’t gone to school yesterday, hoping to have my injuries heal a little more before returning.

“It’s weird how you, Lance, and Mr. Heywood were all absent yesterday,” Casey spoke up again.

“Mr. Heywood was out?” I asked. Lance probably stayed home for the same reason I did, but why would Mr. Heywood?

Casey nodded. “Yeah, we had a substitute.”

I frowned. Did Mr. Heywood skip? Or did he suddenly get sick overnight? Did something happen? I suddenly felt sick with worry. I tried to shake it away. I was just being paranoid. Mr. Heywood was fine.

When we arrived at the school, Lance was waiting by the gates, his arms crossed. When he noticed Casey and me he pushed himself off the wall and came towards us. Casey let out a little gasp and hurried forwards.

“What happened to you?” she cried, her eyes wide. “That’s a horrible bruise!”

Lance raised a hand to his face and shrugged. “I fell down the stairs.”

Casey whipped her head towards me and I quickly threw on a shocked expression. “Holly did too!” she said.

Lance raised his eyebrows at me, an amused smirk appearing on his face. “Is that so?”

I nodded, giving him a quick smile, then looking away. Casey looked suspiciously between us. “Huh.”

I gave her a questioningly look. She returned it. “Did you two have a fight?”

My heart skipped a beat. How could Casey have figured that out already?

“No,” I said quickly, waving my hand. “Why would we—”

“We did have a fight,” Lance cut in with a sigh.

Casey’s eyes widened in surprise. “You did?”

Lance nodded. “Yes and I’d like to talk to her in private about it.”

Casey shot me a look. I returned it with a please-don’t-leave-me-here-alone look. She smiled held up her hand. “Say no more,” she told Lance. “I’ll just go over here for a bit.”

I frowned as Casey began to saunter away towards the large oak tree that was on the other side of the gate entrance. Lance turned to me with a frown. I kept my face expressionless. What was there to talk about? I knew I had to apologize for yelling at him, but what did Lance have to say? Was he going to scold me more for getting into this gang problem? It wasn’t like it was my fault. Well, it was partially my fault.

Lance took a deep breath. “Holly.”

I watched him carefully. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, casting his eyes down.

My eyes widened. Why was
he
apologizing? What did he have to apologize for?

“
For what?” I forced out.

Lance shifted uncomfortably. “I yelled at you a lot yesterday. I don’t want you to be angry.”

I blinked, my face expressionless. “You think I was angry because you yelled at me?”

Lance gave me a confused look. “Aren’t you?”

I returned Lance’s look with my own exasperated one. “No! Are you stupid? I could care less about that!”

“Then what?”

“Lance, you punched the guy I . . . you know,” I muttered, my face heating up.

“Oh,” Lance responded, frowning again.

“Not to mention this isn’t all his fault!” I continued quickly. “I don’t know what he told you, but I’m sure he blamed everything on himself, which isn’t true at all! And I’m not angry with you Lance, I was actually going to apologize too.”

Lance raised an eyebrow. “You were?”

I nodded. “I know you only got angry because you were worried about me, and I was a jerk about it.”

He laughed. “Holly, don’t worry about it. I kind of understand.”

I gave him a questioning look. “Understand what?”

“If I was in Mr. Heywood’s position, I would also take the blame onto myself. And I guess it was a little out of line to actually punch him, so sorry about that too.”

“I forgive you for yelling, but you’ll have to tell Mr. Heywood himself that you’re sorry for punching him,” I said, folding my arms over my chest.

Lance’s eyes nearly bulged out of his sockets. “There is no way in hell that I will ever apologize to him!”

“Well, your apology to me won’t be accepted,” I responded stubbornly.

Lance scowled. “Why can’t you just accept it?”

“Because I’m not the one you punched!”

“But—”

“No buts,” I said quickly. “You will apologize for punching him. He could press charges you know.”

Lance scowled. “I know.”

“Make sure you apologize to him.”

Lance rolled his eyes. “If I do that, are we good? No hard feelings?”

I laughed, lightly punching him on his shoulder. “Lance, we are best friends. If there were ‘hard feelings’ over something like this, I’d be worried about our friendship.”

Lance grinned. “That’s true. And what would you do without a handsome man with a sexy British accent around?”

“Tell Mr. Heywood to talk in a British accent all the time,” I responded, smirking.

Lance shook his head. “I think I liked it better when I wasn’t positive that you liked him.”

“Wait,” I started, staring at Lance. “You said you already knew when you told me to admit it.”

Lance snorted. “How am I supposed to know, Holly? You didn’t tell me anything!”

I stared at him, my mouth open in shock. “So you lied?”

“I got you to admit it, didn’t I?”

“But still—”

“Mr. Heywood! What happened to you?” I heard Casey cry.

Lance looked over my shoulder, an amused expression on his face. I quickly turned around to see Casey staring at Mr. Heywood in shock—or more precisely, the bruise on his neck.

“I fell down the stairs,” Mr. Heywood told her.

Casey’s eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. She quickly looked over at Lance and myself, gesturing with her hands frantically. She pointed at Mr. Heywood, then at her cheek, and made some more frantic gestures.

 
I tried to hold in my laugh, but Casey’s face made it impossible. I burst out laughing, turning away from the pair. She came over to us, Mr. Heywood trailing behind her.

“
Did you hear that? Mr. Heywood fell down the stairs too!” she told me, her eyes still wide.

I cleared my throat, glancing at Mr. Heywood. “What a coincidence,” I responded, faking shock.

“
And you all have bruises.”

For one panic-stricken moment, I thought I saw suspicion flash across Casey’s face, but before I was positive, it was gone. I relaxed slightly. There was no way she could figure out what happened.

That thought brought guilt back to my gut. We were
all
lying to Casey now. Even though it was for her own good I felt awful about it. She had been my friend for so long . . . I shook my head. I’d rather lie to her and keep her safe, than tell her the truth and put her in danger.

“I’m going to class,” I heard Lance mutter. He turned to walk away, but then paused, spinning back around. “You,” Lance started, getting Mr. Heywood’s attention.

“Yes?” he responded politely.

“Sorry about yesterday,” Lance apologized, his voice hard and strained.

Shock passed across Mr. Heywood’s face. Lance turned and started hurrying towards the school building. Mr. Heywood turned to me, his eyebrows raised.

“What was that about?” Casey asked, looking after Lance.

“Yesterday he knocked into me at the grocery store and I dropped everything. It wasn’t a very big deal,” Mr. Heywood lied smoothly, smiling at Casey.

“Oh, I see,” Casey responded, tapping her chin.

“Casey!” a familiar voice called suddenly.

I looked up to see Willis hurrying towards Casey. She grinned and waved. “Hey!” she called back.

“Casey,” Willis panted again when he was closer. “I have to show you something. Come here!”

Casey grinned at him, shaking her head. Then she turned to Mr. Heywood and me. “Apparently I have to go see something, so I’ll see you two later.”

Before I could say anything, Willis grabbed Casey’s hand and started dragging her away, leaving me alone with Mr. Heywood. I did my best to avoid his gaze, staring at the ground as hard as I could. I could feel his eyes on me, but I refused to look up.

What was I supposed to say? Should I apologize? Should I be mad? I didn’t know. I wanted to be mad. He had put all the blame on himself. But being mad about that made me feel like a jerk. He was only trying to help me.

“Holly, look at me.”

I looked at him. He was frowning at me. I slowly frowned back.

“I see you got home safely,” he commented.

I raised my eyebrows. That was the last thing I had expected him to say. I couldn’t help a smile from slipping onto my mouth. “Yeah, Jeremy’s a nice guy,” I told him.

He nodded. “I agree . . .”

There was an awkward silence again. I averted my gaze from him again.

“Holly, are you mad at me?”

“I’m not mad.”

He let out a relieved breath. “Good—”

“I’m irritated,” I continued, now turning to look at him.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Why?”

“Because! You put all the blame on yourself, Mr. Heywood!” I responded, clenching my fist. “That’s what caused Lance to punch you! You should have just said that it was my fault too!”

Mr. Heywood rolled his eyes. “Holly, get over yourself.”

I stared at him in shock, my face reddening. “Get over myself?”

He nodded, putting a hand on my head and ruffling my hair. “Like I said before, you’re a good girl.”

I stared at him in confusion. He wasn’t making any sense at all!

He chuckled at my expression. “Make sure you don’t have any plans after school for a while.”

I was about to tell him not to change the subject, but didn’t have the energy. “Why?” I responded with a sigh.

“You’ve got a lot of work ahead for you if you don’t want me to press charges against Lance. So I’ll see you after class today.”

Mr. Heywood smirked. I stared at him, stupefied. Before I could say anything, he turned and began walking towards the school building.

I scowled. That stupid, blackmailing devil of a teacher.

When I entered his classroom at the end of the day, he was sitting at his desk writing something down in his planner. I glanced around the room and my attention was drawn to the homework section on the bored. Getting a signed permission slip for a field trip was listed under my grade.

“What’s the field trip?” I asked, turning back to Mr. Heywood.

He stared at me curiously for a moment. “You don’t know? Oh, that’s right. You were out yesterday.”

“How do you know I was out? You were out too.”

“Attendance form,” he informed me, an amused smirk on his face.

“Oh,” I responded simply.

“There’s a class trip to the beach on Saturday,” Mr. Heywood started, going over to his desk. “I have a form somewhere if you want one. It’s a two-day trip.”

“I want one,” I told him quickly.

He frowned at me. “Are you sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“
Never mind.”

He pulled out a sheet of paper and handed it to me. “Thanks,” I responded, sticking it in my backpack.

“No problem, Holly.”

I turned back to the board and frowned. “Say, Mr. Heywood . . .”

“Chris,” he corrected me.

“Chris,” I said and rolled my eyes. “Why don’t you ever have a detention list on the board?”

He eyed me for a moment before shrugging. “I didn’t realize I had to have one.”

“You don’t, but most teachers do to remember who had a detention,” I responded, looking at his desk. “And I’ve also noticed that you don’t have any detention slips either.”

“They’re just in my drawer.”

I frowned deeper. “Come to think of it . . . I’ve never heard anyone say they’ve gotten a detention from you.” I looked at him curiously. “Why is that?”

He cleared his throat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I give detentions.”

“Yeah, to
me
,” I snorted. “But how come I’ve never heard anyone else say they have?”

“I don’t know.”

“The girls would surely gloat about it and the guys would complain . . . but ever since you started working here, no one has said anything about a detention with you.”

Mr. Heywood sighed and looked at me. “Why are you so interested?”

I shrugged. “No reason really. Just curious.”

He stayed quiet for a moment and I went over to the whiteboard, debating asking whether I should clean it for him or not. It didn’t seem like he had anything planned for me to do.