Sell Out (37 page)

“Ms. Wyld,” the receptionist’s voice boomed from the phone speaker. “Mr. Mason and his son are here.”

“Send them back,” my aunt said. She glanced between me and Cody who sat next to his parents. They remained stoic, and it was obvious neither slept well last night. Their faces were pale with dark circles under their eyes. Cody didn’t look a whole lot better.

I slid my hand to his knee, and he gripped it like I might run away. Every muscle in his neck was strained, and his jaw jumped and twitched.

“You ready?” My aunt waited for us both to nod and then stood. She straightened her already starched blazer and walked around the table to let them in.

If time could stand still, it seemed to as she pulled open the door. Every inch took an hour, and with each step, my nerves flashed like lighting strikes.

“Mr. Mason, Blake, please have a seat.” My aunt’s tone was sharp, authoritative and unemotional. She was so practiced at the art of control; it was questionable if anything could rattle her.

Mr. Mason was an older version of his son. His hair was a little darker, more wrinkles marred the pretty-boy features, but their expressions were identical. Calculated, arrogant, victorious.

Blake smirked at Cody, and even had the audacity to wink in my direction.

Cody shifted.

“He wants to get a rise out of you. Don’t let him,” I whispered, holding on to his arm to keep him from standing.

My aunt walked around the table until she found her wingback leather chair and sat. “I assume introductions are unnecessary.” When no one said a word, she continued. “Mr. Mason, I see you chose not to bring representation. Is that correct?”

Blake’s dad casually released the top button of his suit coat and grinned. Not the kind of grin that was amused. The kind that was cunning. “I see no need to waste $1,000 when this meeting is pointless. I’ve talked with my lawyer and with the school. Principal Rayburn does not have the authority to punish an act that occurred almost two years ago. And the school board feels no need to take such action. Blake understands what he did was wrong and was operating under peer pressure. Taking this conversation past this room is a waste of both our time and resources.”

Mr. James’s jaw ticked and the man who embodied the word meek stood, enraged. “Your son not only assaulted ours, but videotaped his humiliation!”

Mr. Mason never flinched. “Blake made a poor choice because he was trying to impress some punk. Since then, he has taken Cody under his wing. Has defended him. Protected him. You should be thanking my son, not conjuring up some silly lawsuit.”

I thought Cody’s dad was going to lunge across the table.

“Mr. James, if you cannot remain calm, I suggest you wait outside,” My aunt reprimanded.

Cody’s dad dropped back into his chair, but he remained stiff and shaky.

“Can we move this along? I have another meeting this afternoon.” Mr. Mason’s blasé attitude had me ready to stand and scream myself.

“Of course.” I knew from my aunt’s tone that things were about to get ugly. She was ticked, but you would never know by the mask of calm on her face. “As I explained in my letter, we plan to move forward with both civil and criminal charges of harassment and assault against your son. What I didn’t mention is that we plan to group it into a six person lawsuit against each boy identified in that video.”

“My son was a minor, Ms. Wyld. A stupid kid who made a mistake.”

“The courts will probably agree with you.”

I jerked my head toward her.
What the heck?

“However,” she continued, “I am more interested in the media impact. You own a hardware chain, isn’t that correct?” She shuffled some papers. “It just went public on the stock market a few years ago. Congratulations.”

Mr. Mason’s neck flushed purple. “Are you threatening me?”

“Absolutely not. I’m simply warning you. As you see, my niece here is devastated about what happened and, unfortunately, very eager to share her thoughts and the video on social media.” She eyed Blake. “I bet you know a lot about the power of the Internet.”

Blake squirmed. Her tone made it clear we knew he was responsible for Lindsay’s attacks, even if we couldn’t prove it.

Enjoying the shift in power, I shot a big, fake, cheesy grin at Blake and his father. “Daddy’s twitter is up to twenty million followers. And they’ve all been so supportive since his death. They are ready to do anything to help me cope.” I pulled out my phone. “Maybe I should get them started.”

“Skylar, please.” My aunt scowled in my direction. “Mr. Mason, I am personally sick of the media phenomenon that surrounds my brother’s band. But, I’m afraid when they find out that Donnie Wyld’s daughter is heartbroken over the documented bullying of her boyfriend, the outpouring will be, what’s the word…” She tapped her lips with a polished nail and smiled. “Oh yeah…epic.”

Blake looked at his dad, and it was the first time he didn’t seem smug. “They’re just trying to scare us.”

“Shut up. You’ve done enough damage.” At his tone, Blake retreated into himself like an abused child.

I refused to feel sorry for him.

Blake’s dad let out a defeated sigh. “What’s it going to take to settle this? Money?”

Mr. James slammed a hand on the table. “I wouldn’t take a cent from you, your slimy b-”

“Mr. James, please.” The tension crackled again, leaving a strained silence in the air.

My aunt slid the paper I had been staring at over to Blake’s dad. “I’ve laid out our expectations. First, you will disenroll Blake from Madison High.”

Blake lurched forward. “What? NO!”

“I said shut up!” Mr. Mason’s angry words rattled the molecules in the air. “I’m finished bailing you out, and I’m certainly not losing my reputation over your stupidity.” He studied the paper. “What else?”

“Blake will sign a no contact agreement for a period of one year. The order will include my niece, Mr. James and Lindsay Clark. If he breaks the agreement, the video will go straight to the media.”

Blake stood, shaking. His ears were bright red, his eyes like a rabid dog’s. “You can’t do this! I never touched him!”

Mrs. James spoke up for the first time, her voice calm despite her tears. “You participated and you laughed. You watched that horrific moment and thought it was funny enough to document on film. Then you came to my house and pretended to be his friend. You had my trust and my respect. Now, all I see is that sneering face on the camera. If it were up to me, there would be no settlement. I want you to experience the same humiliation Cody did.”

The broken words from Cody’s mom shifted the atmosphere. Blake sat slowly and whispered something to his dad who shook his head and pushed him away. Our agreement gripped in his fist, Mr. Mason stood. “I need to run this by my lawyer, and I will get back to you.”

My aunt stood as well and put out her hand. “Thank you. You have forty-eight hours until I file.”

Mr. Mason shook it begrudgingly and smacked Blake’s shoulder, ready to leave.

Blake sat stunned, his mouth open, his stare unfocused. “What about wrestling?”

His father rolled his eyes and nudged his son. “Madison isn’t the only school with a wrestling team. Now, get up. I have another meeting to get to.”

No one said a word, including Blake, who finally stood, his shoulders drooping as he walked to the door.

I turned to Cody, who never took his eyes from Blake the entire meeting. I saw the sadness in Cody’s expression. Justice had been served, but there was still no winner. Signing the piece of paper didn’t change Cody’s memory of that day. Nor did it change the fact that Lindsay had tried to take her own life.

I brushed a thumb across his cheek. He captured my hand and kissed the skin on my wrist. The familiar pain in his eyes was one I’d wanted to take away a million times.

“This is a victory,” I said.

“I know it is. I’m just waiting for it to feel like one.”

His words were truth. The hard part was yet to come. Moving forward. Finding the courage to face the past. And, the hardest of all, finding a way to forgive.

I
f someone had
said I’d be spending the New Year with the guys from Skylar Wyld and their families, I would have told them they were insane. Yet, here I stood, ready to knock on Skylar’s door.

Lindsay fidgeted next to me, wringing her hands and messing with her hair. “Are you sure this is okay?”

It was the fiftieth time she’d asked that question on the way over. “Yes. Skylar wanted you to come. She specifically told me to force you into my truck if I had to.”

Lindsay smiled and her face brightened. She’d been doing more of that lately. Blake had signed the no contact agreement and withdrew from school. Although, rumor had it he’d walked on to our rival wrestling team, Clearview, and that Chugger had followed him there.

Lindsay still hadn’t decided if she would come back after the holidays or just get her GED, but Skylar and I hoped tonight would encourage her to return. Lindsay had a right to be in school and learn without harassment. She had a right to graduate and to go to college and to live a full and happy life. They had tried to steal that from her.

The door swung open and loud music filtered out to the porch. Ricky placed his hand on the frame and gave me the once over. Decorated in Mardi Gras beads and a New Year’s top hat, he looked strangely normal. “Well, I guess you’re still around, huh?”

I returned his smirk. “Yep. I’m still here.”

“Okay, then, get inside.” He made a sweeping gesture with his arm, and Lindsay practically bumped my side as we entered.

She opened her mouth, and I immediately interrupted. “Yes. She wants you here.”

Zoe appeared out of nowhere with a top hat as big as her grin. “Cody! Lindsay!” She followed up her squeal with a crushing hug. I guess Skylar wasn’t kidding when she said Zoe had come over to our side.

Sliding her arm through Lindsay’s, Zoe began her verbal marathon. “Boy, am I happy to see you. I need a wing woman because Ricky’s nephew is h-o-t. And since Chugger was just using me so Blake could get to Skylar, I’m in serious need of an ego boost. And from what I understand, you could use some boy attention…”

They walked away with Zoe still muttering about things I had absolutely no interest in. What I was interested in was finding my beautiful girlfriend.

A stack of papers on the formal dining table caught my eye. I stepped forward and picked up the large envelope. ESMOD. The size alone told me she’d been accepted.

The air suddenly felt heavy. I knew it was coming. It was her dream, but I wasn’t ready to let her go.

I left the dining room and found Skylar mingling in the kitchen. I slipped my hand in hers and tugged her away from the crowd. The last week had been crazy, and we’d hardly spent more than a few hours together.

I leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Is there a place we can talk?”

She pulled me out the back door and into the silence of the yard. A small porch lamp lit the area, but the light from the full moon stole the show.

I pulled her close until the heat of her body warmed the unease in my heart. “You’ve been crying,” I said, rubbing my thumbs under her swollen eyes.

She gave ghost of a smile. “Yeah. That grief thing is tricky. Gets you when you least expect it.”

I knew words couldn’t heal her hurts or minimize the loss of her father, so I just tucked her tight against me. We were the only ones outside, the noise of the party only a murmur through the windows. I pulled out my phone and found the song that played on repeat when I thought I’d lost her.

Piano chords drifted from the device, and I backed away to set it on the table. She cocked her head to the side, her eyebrows pinching with confusion.

I offered a hand. “Dance with me?”

A smile brightened her sad eyes, and soon she was in my arms swaying to the soft rhythm.

I grazed her forehead with my lips and trailed my lips down the side of her face until we were cheek to cheek. “I saw the package from ESMOD. Congratulations.” My heart raced with the words, but I refused to be the guy who held her back. Skylar was always meant for something spectacular, and I had been lucky to get even a piece of this amazing woman.

She rested her head against my chest and held me tighter. “Early admission,” she said in a sigh. “I think my dad was making his final wishes known.”

An ache pulled at my chest, and I had to bite my lip not to flinch from the pain. “When do you leave?” The words felt like vinegar rolling off my tongue. She’d been in my life for such a short period of time but had completely changed my world.

“I’m not.”

I froze, sure I had misheard the words. Pulling back so I could see her face, I searched for clues that I was mistaken. “What do you mean you’re not?”

She lifted her hand and softly ran her fingertips along my temple. “I’m not going to Paris.”

“But your plans? Your dream?”

“Dreams change. Tragedy does that sometimes. And what I want now is to be close to the people I love. Not halfway across the world.”

My heart felt like it imploded in my chest. I cupped her face, placed my forehead against hers. I wanted to just breathe in the scent of her until my mind could process what she was saying. “Are you sure?”

Her hands ran down my arms until each held my wrists. “Yes. I love you. The last few months have shown me that it isn’t my situation that decides my happiness. It’s the people around me. Those I love and who love me back. My family is here. You and Zoe are here. Dreams adjust.”

The music faded, as did the rest of the world. Skylar was staying. She had chosen me just like I had chosen her. We’d find somewhere that had both fashion school and wrestling. We’d have our dreams and each other. I’d make sure of it.

I stared into the eyes that saw past all my defenses and mistakes. Her face was illuminated by the moonlight, her skin a soft glow of perfection. I loved that tears glistened against the green of her eyes. I loved her honesty. I loved her selflessness. I loved that she’d found me worthy to love those things about her.

I kissed her softly on the forehead, then nose, then each porcelain cheek. I found her mouth, its warmth enough to brand my soul with her name forever. I could feel her heart beat in rhythm with mine until the flicker of the porch light and a loud bang on the window had me pulling away and looking toward the noise.