Jaded, Page 40

  "You watched…" I gestured towards the monitors.

  "Yeah. I erased it all until the last second where he lunged. It's self-defense. They'll take that and leave it," he said.

  I moved to his side and sat down. I couldn’t feel a thing, maybe wariness, maybe some shock, I had no idea. Exhaustion, that was what I was feeling.

  Bryce grinned with a haunted look in his eye. I looked away, but sighed on the inside as he brushed a thumb across my cheek to tuck back a loose tendril. I felt the trace of blood that was left instead of his loving touch, but I didn't care. I turned and gazed at Corrigan.

  "He's so pale," I murmured.

  "He'll pull through. He woke up a little while ago."

  "He did?"

  "He's fighting." Bryce bent and kissed my forehead. "That's what we do."

  EPILOGUE

  Miss Connors exclaimed, "So!"

  I cringed against the harsh sound and sunlight that filtered through her office windows. I curled into a ball on her chair and rolled my eyes in annoyed resignation.

  "Sheldon!"

  "What?" I cried out. "I graduated yesterday. I'm hung over. Sue me."

  "You're annoying, you know that?"

  "You're supposed to be my counselor. What happened to all the sympathy and condolences?"

  "The 'sympathy and condolences' went out the window when you used a certain expletive with me that pertain to intercourse." Miss Connors smiled tightly. She twirled her finger in the air and exclaimed, "So you can 'screw off' when you ask for that."

  I grinned. "That wasn't what I said."

  Miss Connors sighed, folded her arms, and asked, "So how's it going with your parents?"

  "What parents?"

  "You know—the dad that's still out of the country? The mom that's suddenly trying to be a mother with all this media attention? Those parents."

  Oh. I shrugged. "They're fine."

  "They're a disappointment," Stephanie said for me because I couldn't. Two months of therapy and my counselor realized that I couldn't ever say those words, but I liked hearing them. Hell, I needed to hear them.

  I shrugged again.

  And she sighed. She shifted and sat on her hands, prim and proper. "You know, Sheldon, you have a right to feel anger at your parents."

  "What for?" I asked.

  She nodded. "What do you mean?"

  "Mom's a fraud. My dad's gone. What am I supposed to feel angry about? I can't do anything about it and I'm just wasting energy."

  "You still call them Mom and Dad and, yet, you talk about them like they're not your parents."

  "Stop it."

  "Stop what? Being your counselor?"

  "You're annoying." I glanced out the window.

  "I care," Miss Connors said softly and watched me intently. "And that's why you put up with me—because I care and I'm here and I'm listening. And I want to listen to more."

  "Gag me."

  "Maybe later."

  I grinned. I couldn't help it and Miss Connors didn't hold it against me.

  "So!" Miss Connors said abruptly with a bright smile as she slapped her hands on her lap. "Are you going to ask me the question why you came in for a session that wasn't mandatory today? We've been seeing each other for six months, ever since it all went down, and there's one question that I know you haven't asked and I know you want to ask…so just ask it, Sheldon."

  I took a breath and asked the million-dollar question, "Why the handcuffs?"

  Stephanie rolled her eyes and chuckled. She leaned back, crossed a leg over her other and sighed, "Because I wanted to annoy you as much as you annoy everyone else."

  "Seriously?" I muttered.

  "Seriously." She laughed. "No, there's a real reason for them, but you guys cheated when you got them off so I'm not telling."

  I remarked, "You should get laid."

  "I did. Last night. Twice," she clipped out and leaned forward. "It's scary isn't it? Letting people in, not controlling everything. It's downright terrifying and you don't want me to press the point, but I can't resist."

  "God! You piss me off!" I snapped out.

  Miss Connors smiled in victory.

  What counselor would enjoy making their client squirm in fury? Mine.

  "I know," Stephanie proclaimed. "That’s how I have to communicate with you."

  I glared, but she was right.

  "Okay, I know the hour's up. Give my best to Bryce and Corrigan. Send a postcard from Europe. I never would've thought that I'd actually miss all you guys, but Europe won't know what's hit them. Tell Bryce good luck with Barcelona."

  I nodded and clamped a hand to hers. I squeezed it and then left as quick as I could. I didn't want to look back. As I walked down the hallway, Corrigan was teasing Logan with whispered promises of—I'm sure—sexual positions. Logan blushed like she always did. I was nice to her because she held Corrigan's hand in the hospital when Bryce and I weren't there.

  That earned some spine of steel points in my book.

  And Grace—that was the shocker heard throughout the school's social hierarchy. Grace Barton, former loser and social defect, was now friends with me. Bryce and Corrigan didn't understand it, but I saw it with my own eyes. She was sickeningly sweet at times, but she had strength that amazed me. I didn't understand her and somehow we came to be best friends.

  Bryce and Corrigan hadn't changed. They were just wanted even more by every female in the school. Bryce was hailed as an up-and-coming star in the professional leagues. Girls were starting to arrive in our town, but I had more than enough venom to send them packing.

  Corrigan lifted his head as I approached.

  Bryce grinned and raked a hand through his Mohawk as he leaned beside my locker.

  "How's Miss Connors?" Bryce asked.

  "Still pisses me off."

  Corrigan barked a laugh. "You're just saying that because you like her."

  I glared.

  Logan kissed him and I rolled my eyes.

  Grace dodged a group of laughing seniors and drew abreast our group. Her smile tightened at the sight of Corrigan and Logan's locked lips, but she said, "Everything's set. Next year will pale in comparison, but as the senior class President—I can conquer uncharted seas and bring unity to our school once again."

  My lips thinned and Bryce waited for my response.

  Corrigan grinned, waiting, as he lifted his head from Logan's lips.

  I remarked, "I'm about to vomit."

  Grace was undisturbed and raised a hand in the air. "Vomit all you want, One with Negative Sarcasm, but you're gone and I'm still here next year. This school will rebound after Sheldon Jeneve." Her smile was so sweet, I really did feel nauseous. She ended it with, "Do you want to go to church right now?"

  "Do you want to suck Bryce's dick right now?"

  Logan blushed, but Grace’s smile stayed in place. "That's your job, not mine."

  "And yours would be…?"

  "Keeping your conscience intact."

  It was a weird friendship.

  Later, curled in bed with Bryce, I rolled out from underneath him and asked, "Do you remember when we were going to Leisha's candlelight vigil?"

  Bryce shifted to his side, smoothed a hand down my flushed cheek, and asked, "Why?" He bent and pressed a tender kiss to my cheek and worked his way to my neck. I fell on my back and Bryce settled half on top of me. He continued his caresses as I stroked a hand in his hair. "When I told your mom that if I had a daughter and she had your eyes…"

  Bryce finished for me as he lifted his head again, "If my mom would want her to cry?"

  "Yeah."

  "Yeah," he said. "I remember."

  "What if…?" I raked my hand through his hair and grinned as I felt foolish now.

  "What if what? If we have kids?"

  I shuddered at the thought. "God no, that's years away and we'll probably have broken up by then or killed each other, but maybe someday."

  He ignored that. "I think that if we had a child, she'd have my
good-looks and your tongue."

  I thought so too, but I murmured, "I'm pretty hot too."

  Bryce kissed me and the warmth sparked again.

  He shifted and rolled me underneath him.

  I murmured as my speech was evaporating underneath Bryce's exploring caresses, "I want to go to Leisha and Bailey's candlelight vigil next year."

  Bryce paused again and stared down at me. His eyes were dark with desire.

  I whispered, "I want to go with you and Corrigan, just you and Corrigan."

  Bryce nodded and when I saw the love in his eyes, I reversed our positions and straddled him instead. He grinned and commented, "I still have Miss Connors' handcuffs, you know…."

  The end.

  Stay tuned for Still Jaded in April 2013 where everything changes…

  For more information: https://www.facebook.com/tijans.writings

  Still Jaded

  Tijan

  Chapter 1

  "Have you heard?" Grace plopped her books on the table beside me. "Bryce Scout is moving back to town. The local celebrity jock is about to 'reclaim his crown.'"

  I rolled my eyes. "You're just jealous because Corrigan won't be around to flirt with you as much."

  Grace paled. "I am not…" she sputtered, her mouth agape, and then wised up. "You're the one who's jealous because Corrigan won't be spending as much time with you."

  I laughed at that one. If only it were true. "Right. It makes complete sense that I'll be missing my time with Corrigan."

  Grace pouted and leaned back in her chair. "You don't have to be the bitch you like to be. I'm just saying…whatever. I was just teasing you because, you know, Bryce is your boyfriend and everyone's talking about him, and you're my friend—just shut up, Grace."

  "I know," I murmured softly as our professor entered the room. I nudged Grace's thin shoulder. "But I wasn't joking—you've got the hots for Corrigan."

  Grace gasped and wheeled back to me in protest, but the class quieted in that instant and was soon underway. As Miss Connors wrote the first objective on the white board, I tuned the class out. It wasn't that I didn't enjoy our psychology class; it was that Grace was right. Everyone was talking about Bryce's imminent return, and I wasn't sure how I felt about it. I'd gone to Europe with him after high school. He had been going to play professional soccer, and I didn't have anything better to do. Corrigan went too, but he was the first to leave. However, while Corrigan had a legitimate reason since his mother had fallen sick with cancer, I did not when I followed him a few months later.

  I stuck around Barcelona, but it was difficult. I wasn't good at making friends, and the only person I knew was busy with training, practice, and games. Then there were the interviews, the team outings for the public, and a whole host of fanatical mostly female fans.

  I'm not one of those self-conscious girlfriends—far from it—but the obsessive stalker types wore on me after awhile. I usually love ridiculing someone in public, tearing her to pieces until she shrivels up sobbing in a fetal position, but my run-ins with Bryce's adoring fans were too much. I realized that I needed my own life. So, I went home. That was six months ago…

  An entire year has passed from when we left to when all of us returned home.

  "Sheldon!" Miss Connors boomed my name.

  I blinked back to reality and saw my previous high school counselor frown at me. She indicated the white board. "What are your thoughts on the fight or flight instinct?"

  I relaxed. Homework be damned, I could handle this question. "I think it's total crap."

  Miss Connors suppressed a smile. "And what do you mean by that?"

  She knew me so well. "The book says that people either fight or flight, right? They run or they attack? Well, it also says that people 'freeze' when they're in those life or death moments."

  "Do you freeze?"

  "Hell, no. I'm a fighter," I snorted in disgust.

  The class broke out in laughter, but I saw Grace grimace. I wasn't surprised to see the concern in her baby blues.

  "Do you think it's wrong to freeze?"

  "Hell, no. It's just what it is, you know? People freeze. They're going to freeze if they've never been put in that situation, and it happens. The body does weird stuff. It takes care of its own."

  Miss Connors snapped her intelligent eyes to me, narrowed them, and mused, almost to herself, "And maybe there's a reason why it shuts down…"

  What?

  I narrowed my eyes and studied my previous therapist/current professor in return. She looked tired, but no more than usual. Her thin straw-colored hair was pulled into a haphazard bun with strands that teased the tops of her slender shoulders. She wore a yellow blouse pulled out from pressed khaki pants. All that was the same as before, but she'd never started talking to herself in the middle of a lecture.

  I glanced around the room and saw more than a few other students confused. That's when I looked at Grace, only to find her concerned eyes still on me.

  "I'm fine!" I snapped out.

  Miss Connors jumped out of her trance.

  Grace bared her teeth. "I can think my own thoughts."

  "Not when they're about me," I barked back.

  "Sheldon…" Miss Connors frowned as she stepped forward. "Is there something I should know about?"

  "No!" I was tired of all the emotional support and crap. It had been a year since I killed the pervert who stalked me. It hadn't changed my life. I'd gone to counseling, more because the court mandated it, but I'd gone. I was fine. People needed to let it go.

  Miss Connors looked at Grace. "Is there something I need to know?"

  I interjected, "This is class, not Sheldon's personal crisis