Page 85 of Fighting the Odds

I look back over my shoulder and see Braxton and Zander squaring up against Wesley. They’re talking but I can’t make out what they’re saying from the side, but by the stern look on their faces it’s not good.

“Here we are!” Colton announces as we stop in front of my homeroom. I hesitate for a moment, not wanting to go in there because I know I’ll be alone. Well, Wesley will be there.

“I can come in there if you want. Fuck them if they try to kick me out.” He reaches out, sliding the hair that fell into my face behind my ear. The tips of his fingers graze the rim of it. “I mean it, Sierra. I’m going to spend my life making it up to you for not standing up for you and doubting you are anything more than the angel you are. Whether you ever want to be with me or not will not change that.”

“Thank you, Colton, for not pressuring me, and giving me time to get to know you.” I smile, feeling the heat on my face as I look at him. “Guess I should get inside.”

“One of us will be here to get you at the end of class. Just wait for us.” He hesitates for a moment, then smiles widely before turning and heading back to where Braxton and Zander are still standing with Wesley.

Chapter 40

Sierra

The day’s been going okay. Not as bad as it could’ve been if I didn’t have the guys with me running interference.

But it doesn’t mean the pricks at this school haven’t used any opportunity they could to make snide comments, or slip notes onto my desk or my bag, when I’m not looking.

The only bright side of the day so far was lunch with the guys. We enjoyed a peaceful meal at our spot under the tree. It was an amazing forty minutes of no one calling me names. The only downfall was when I was pulling one of my books from my bag, the notes almost fell out. I barely stuck the lone escapee back inside the bag before they saw. I’ll need to make sure to toss them in the trash after lunch.

Now I’m sitting in the office, waiting on Mr. Stevenson, thankful I don’t have to go to gym. The thought of having to change in the locker room with Savannah and her pack of bitches had my stomach in knots.

“Sierra, sweetheart, you can go on back.” Mrs. Bullock gives me a warm smile from behind her desk. As I walk past her, she reaches out, placing her hand on my arm. “I’m so sorry about everything that happened with your sister, but I’m glad you’re back.”

My body stiffens. Is it public knowledge about Sam being in foster care now? That I was beaten? Did word of the video make it back to the staff?

I just nod, as she drops her hand, and I head down the hallway. Nervous anxiety prickles my skin, wondering if everyone is watching me on my walk of unknown doom.

Mr. Stevenson’s door is closed when I get there, and I knock gently. “Come in,” comes loudly from the other side.

Taking hold of the handle, I take in a deep breath before pushing the door open and stepping inside.

“You wanted to see me, Mr. Stevenson?”

“Yes, come in and sit down, Sierra.” He gestures to the chair in front of his desk.

I walk slowly to the chair and sit down on the edge, setting my book bag on the floor by my feet as I pick nervously at the hem of my shirt.

“How are you today?” He closes the folder on his desk, placing his arms on it as he leans forward.

“Good.” This is weird and I’m oddly uncomfortable, unsure what he wants to see me about.

“I just wanted to check in and see how everything is going since you came back to school and with everything that’s happened. I know Sam is adjusting well, but she misses her big sister.”

“I miss her too.” God I do. All I want is to go straight to his house, pack up her stuff and bring her home with me. Or run. We could start over in another state with new names, forge a whole new life, and put this one in the past. All except for Mom. The memories of her I want to keep.

“Now, I have to ask. I know you went home yesterday, rather my sons took you home due to some bullying that was taking place. I need to know who it was, and what happened, so that I can take appropriate disciplinary action.”

I love that he wants to punish them, but I know it will never happen. And I don’t want him to do anything. All his interference will do is bring more retaliation my way. No, thank you.

“It wasn’t really bullying. I was just upset, and I wasn’t feeling well. Umm, I was cramping really bad, and they insisted on taking me home.” That should do it. No man wants to talk with a teenage girl about her period.

“Sierra, I can’t help you if you won’t tell me who it is. The boys were very tight-lipped last night and wouldn’t go into specifics. I’m here for you, Sierra. Your wellbeing is of the utmost importance to me.” He stares poignantly at me, and I cast my eyes down. I can’t look at him in the face.

“I’m fine, Mr. Stevenson. Like I said, it was cramps. And kids tease each other. That's all it was. I’m sorry if the guys misinterpreted it and skipped school to help me yesterday. Please don’t punish them for trying to help me, even though I didn’t need it.”

We just sit there, daring the other to be the first to cave. It won’t be me, though. There’s no way in hell I’m ratting on anyone here for what they’ve done to me. I rub my sweaty palms together as my knee bounces nervously.

All I want is to get out of here. At this point, gym class would be a blessing.

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