Sell Out (30 page)

“Yes, you do.” I reached for her hand, but she pulled it away. Frustrated, I gripped the back of my neck. Wished the sickness in my stomach would stop for just one moment. “I need you to understand why. Why Lindsay’s fight became mine.”

She stared down at her hands, turning them over as if to check for scratches or bruises. Seeing her cold expression was bad, but not seeing it was worse. I’d have to do this blind. Confess my worst nightmare without knowing if she was even listening.

“I used to be fat and shy and socially awkward. It didn’t make much difference in junior high. Kids just ignored me. But at Madison, it changed.” I shoved both hands into my pockets and kicked at some stray rocks. “Freshman year was bad. Teasing, some roughing up behind the school, papers missing. But nothing like sophomore year. Tom Baker had it out for me.”

“Tom Baker?”

I closed my eyes. She was listening, even if she still wouldn’t look at me. “The king of Madison two years ago.”

“What did he do?”

My chest burned with pressure and every breath felt like a victory. “Fatty James. That’s what he used to call me. Every day. Every time he passed me in the halls.” Finally, she met my eyes. There was recognition.

Heat engulfed me. “You heard this before?”

“No. Lindsay said something about Tom Baker and pictures.”

Sweat trickled along my forehead and stung my eyes. I prayed for calm. I had to do this if we had any chance. “Tom’s girlfriend was like Lindsay. Shy, timid, kind. But he was cruel to her on a regular basis. I saw her crying outside and gave her a tissue. We didn’t even speak, but that one act of mercy sealed my fate.”

“What happened?” Her voice was soft, barely over a whisper. I clung to it, immersed in the fact that the bitterness was gone.

I rubbed my palms across my eyes, feeling sucked back into my horror. The bullied kid, the outcast, the crushed boy who fought to forget. “He broke me.”

Seconds passed. I’d spent years pushing away the memory, fighting to forget the agony of that day and yet keeping it a secret. One that rotted inside me like a decaying body. Telling her was like opening an infected wound and pouring alcohol on it.

Skylar would know the ugliness. The broken parts of me that couldn’t be fixed.

“One day in the boys’ locker room, Tom and five other guys stripped me down, beat me, drew on me and then took pictures. Those pictures were posted on a private webpage usually seen by juniors and seniors. Lindsay knew about the pictures because Blake had access our sophomore year. I didn’t even know the website existed until Lindsay showed me.”

Her eyes shimmered.

“I didn’t choose Lindsay over you. She already knew.”

I dared to move forward. To touch her cheek. She didn’t turn away. “You said I didn’t trust you. You’re wrong. I didn’t trust myself. I’m broken. They broke me. And I’ve spent two years putting together the pieces, doing everything I could to make sure they never shattered again. I’ve made terrible mistakes. Compromised my values. Tried to heal by fitting in with the very group that laughed at me.

“But never once have I felt whole since that day. And I didn’t really even notice it until I met you. Then suddenly I was aware of every crack and splinter. Protecting Lindsay made me feel like I was fixing it. Made me believe that I could be happy again. Made me think I could be a man worthy of someone like you. When I see them attack her, it’s like I’m getting punched all over again.”

She didn’t say anything and I waited, giving us both time to process everything I’d just admitted to her.

“Thank you for telling me.” Skylar didn’t look me in the eye when she said it, and her words were so quiet I almost missed them.

I placed my hands on her shoulders. “I should have told you sooner. I just didn’t want you to ever see me as weak.”

Her eyes shifted to mine. “My mother left my father when I was three years old. He was touring in Europe, and she brought me home to the States. My father told me it took him one week before he completely fell apart, canceled the tour and came to find us. My mom didn’t take him back for six more months. Do you know why?”

I shook my head.

“Because he was messed up, Cody. And he had to fix himself before he could ever be the kind of father and husband he needed to be.”

I pointed to her house. “But he changed. He became that man.” I could, too, if she’d just give me more time.

“He did.” She touched her locket while a tear slid down her check. “But not because my mom took him back.”

She was going to rip my heart out. Right here on her back porch. I took her face in my palms and begged. “Don’t do this. Please, Skylar, it’s not the same.”

“It is.” Her voice cracked. She pulled my hands down and squeezed them. “It doesn’t matter if you take care of Lindsay or if you help me through this mess with the media. Or if you beat Blake in a round of wrestling or even win state. Until you face what happened to you. Until you move past it, you will never stop fighting.”

I spread my arms, frustration exploding inside every vein and muscle. “I’m fighting for us! I’m trying to be a better man. That’s all I’ve done since I met you.”

“But who’s fighting for Fatty James? You can’t erase him, Cody. He’s a part of who you are.”

I couldn’t look at her. “Don’t say that name.”

“Why not?” Skylar pulled me back, angled me until I met her eyes.

“Because he died on that locker room floor.”

“No, he didn’t.”

Skylar’s voice lowered as if calming a wild animal. Maybe she was. Maybe I’d finally lost it.

“That scared kid is just as alive as Lindsay is. And sooner or later you are going to have to face him. Just like I had to face the fact that no matter how much I wanted normal, I can’t have it. My mother is dead. My father has cancer. I will forever be a rock star’s daughter. There are things in life you cannot change, no matter how much you want to.”

I shook my head as if doing so would make her words not true. For the first time since I met Skylar, I didn’t want to be near her. Didn’t want to get lost in her eyes or buried in her smile. She didn’t understand. “You’re wrong.”

“I’m not.” There was a heaviness in her tone that twisted my gut into a tighter pretzel. “I know you care about me. I know you want to be there for me. But you can’t. Not until you deal with the ghost inside you.” She hovered by the door, gripping the handle while I stood frozen.

“What about you? Us?”

“My father’s dying, Cody. That’s the only ‘us’ I can worry about right now.”

And with those words, she walked away.

C
ody left two
hours ago, but my heart still felt like it’d been crushed into microscopic pieces. Did I make the biggest mistake of my life by letting him go? My father had told me that story a million times. And every time he said they wouldn’t have made it if my mom had let him stay.

In the end, that decision saved my father. I could only hope the same for Cody.

My phone buzzed for the fiftieth time. Zoe again. I pushed the phone away, watched it glow against the ceiling. When people found out about my dad, they changed. I didn’t want to know if my only girlfriend would join the list of many disappointments. More buzzing.

Zoe:
School is not the same without you.

Zoe:
I cried when I realized you had been dealing with this all alone.

Zoe:
I’m your friend. Please don’t think your being famous changes that. I listen to pop music anyway.

A laugh bubbled in my chest. Zoe had the absolute worst taste in music. She was also a gossip and too easily enticed by popularity. And my being Donnie’s Wyld’s daughter was certainly something Madison would feast on. But as I sorted through our conversations, our gut-shaking laugher, how much she cared, even when we didn’t agree, I knew our friendship was worth the risk.

I picked up the phone and dialed.

“Hey,” Zoe said, lengthening the word like she exhaled at the same time. “I’ve been so worried about you. The news and your dad, and gosh, Skylar, I’m so sorry he’s sick. I can’t believe you were going through this on your own. That must have been so hard.”

And with those words, I broke down for the second time that day.

“Oh, Skylar, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean. Don’t cry. I won’t talk about it any more.” She sounded helpless, and it made me smile through the tears. She thought she’d said the wrong thing, but it was just the opposite. In Zoe’s long breathless sentence, she never once mentioned the band or the fame. I was simply her friend.

“It’s okay, really,” I said in a hoarse, cracked voice. “What are they saying at school?”

“Everyone is talking about it, but I didn’t tell them anything. Not that I knew anything.” She paused. “It’s brought out the worst in some people, though. I’ve seen a side of Blake that isn’t so pretty.”

I was shocked. If Zoe was anyone’s fangirl, she was his. “What did he do?”

“He’s just acting like y’all were best friends. And that he knew all about your little secret, which I know he didn’t because Blake would have told the whole school by now.” She inhaled a deep breath. “Did Cody know?”

I rubbed at my temples. “Yeah, he knew. He’s known since the first day. He recognized me.”

There was silence on the other line. From Zoe, it was a bit unnerving.

“He’s a good guy, Skylar. I’m sorry I ever said he wasn’t.” Her tone dripped with a mixture of remorse and sadness. “He could have totally capitalized on this. Been a super star by just knowing you. But he hasn’t said a word. Not one.”

Misery weaved through every one of my ribs. He was a great guy. And I let him go. “Thanks for telling me.”

As if she sensed my sorrow, she switched her tone to light and chatty. “So, I bought December’s
Cosmo
and, oh, Skylar, you could totally make this dress that’s in here.”

I closed my eyes and told myself to just say it. “Do you want to come over?” I rushed the words, so I didn’t have time to take them back. “My dad’s been wanting to meet you, anyway, since I talk so much about you.”

She responded with a squeal. “Yes! I’m dying to see your house and your room. And OMG, try on your clothes, not that they’ll go past my hips, but still.”

She stopped long enough for me to tell her that I’d send a car for her. She squealed again and proceeded to tell me about a scene from her favorite movie where two girls hung out of the top of the limo. I ended the call with the first smile I’d worn all day.

But, it didn’t last long. The resulting silence weighed on me. Heavy and unmoving.

My hand trembled as I played the first song Cody ever sent me. He had told me to look inside the music. And now that I knew the truth, I understood every heartbreaking word.

The song talked of being a prisoner in his own mind. Of walls tearing down only to rise again. Of scraping and clawing until every finger bled.

The agony of the melody grew bolder and louder as the drums pounded and pounded and then there was a crashing quiet before sweet softness of hope poured through an a capella brilliance. Cody’s text after the song hadn’t made sense at the time,
Cody:
You’re in the stillness.

I’d brushed it off. Thought it more of the same confusion.

I slid to floor, gripped the phone to my chest and prayed Cody would find that stillness in himself.

E
veryone in the
hall stopped and stared when I walked through the double doors. They no longer saw the wrestler, the guy who’d been unceremoniously tossed from the inner circle. I’d been given a new label—the guy who dated Donnie Wyld’s daughter.

I strode down the hall, head high, shoulders straight. No one approached me, but the whispered questions floated through the air.

“Do you think he met her dad?”

“I heard he got to play Donnie’s guitar.”

That one almost made me smile. I was pretty sure Skylar’s dad would gladly remove my appendage if I touched his precious Fender.

The whispers stopped, and I looked up to see why. Lindsay was at her locker, a rare sight, pulling out textbooks. She had enough in her arms to avoid coming back there the rest of the day.

I closed the distance before she could run away. “Did you tell them?”

The sigh from her was deafening. She wasn’t shaking or crying. She didn’t even look rattled. Her movements were robotic, her shoulders slumped. She was a girl who’d given up.

Lindsay shut her locker. “Yes. I told them.”

“And what did they say?”

“They argued.” She looked up at me with empty eyes. “My mom said I needed to toughen up. That I was being too sensitive and that it couldn’t be that bad. Then she accused my father of babying me. Said it was his fault I didn’t have a stronger backbone. It’s what they do, Cody, fight, and all I did was give them more ammunition.”

Stunned silence engulfed me. She had to have been cryptic when she told. “Did you tell them everything? Did you show them the Twitter feed?”

She jutted her chin, her lips trembled. “No. I didn’t show them that I’ve been labeled ‘slut Barbie,’ nor that fourteen guys talked about what my body looks like naked while they supposedly had sex with me. No, Cody, I didn’t tell them everything.”

I lowered my voice. “What did you tell them?”

Lindsay’s eyes darted around, never making contact too long with the people who tortured her. “Just that some kids were saying mean things about me and spreading lies. I told them that Blake had been cruel, and how I’ve gotten a few prank calls.” She coughed out a sad, defeated laugh. “My mom actually asked me what I did to make him hate me. Told me to try and get him back.”

A second bell rang, and I clutched her arm to keep her from bolting. “Lindsay…” It was a plea and an apology in one.

Then the dam burst. She was a mess. A puddle of sobs so broken and gut wrenching, I wanted to burn my own soul for pushing too hard.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, cradling her to my chest. “We’ll tell someone else.”

“No.” She pushed away, and her face returned to that terrible mask of coldness, her eyes holding as much emotion as a corpse. “I’m done. I’m done with all of this. I’m sorry.” She walked away before I could find a response significant enough to change her mind.