Page 5 of Only You
But of course, as I lift a weight up above my head and grunt, it’s not lost on me that going to the gym is just a bandage on a gaping wound.
Like everything else I’ve found over the years, nothing seems to be a permanent fix.
THREE
Remy
“Cason...” I sigh, gripping my nose between my thumb and pointer finger. “How many times are you going to do this?”
The kid in question—Cason Rhodes—sits across from me at my desk, his arms folded, long legs stretched out in front of him, and his blue eyes glaring daggers at me. He’s guarded and angry.
I can’t blame him. But it’s my job as principal to reprimand him when he breaks the rules. And Cason frequently breaks the rules.
“I barely even touched him.”
I keep my lips in a firm, thin line. “Ms. Brown stated otherwise. She said you shoved him pretty hard into the locker.”
Cason doesn’t flinch. There’s barely even a flicker of change in his demeanor, other than his nostrils flaring slightly. “He wouldn’t get the hell away from me like I told him to. What would you have me do?”
“Tell someone,” I suggest. I’m not ignorant. I know sometimes bullies just don’t stop, no matter what. No matter how many times you tell someone.
A cold starts to drift through my body—a familiar cold as I try like hell not to think about the memories threatening to come forward. I try to focus fully on Cason instead.
“I have. Blake never stops.”
I clear my throat, trying to come up with another solution and failing. The kid is sneaky. I’ve had teachers watching Blake since the day he and Cason first appeared in my office for fighting. But so far, it’s only been Cason who’s lashed out physically, who teachers have witnessed actually fighting with Blake.
I know Blake goads him quietly. I know he pushes Cason’s buttons and taunts him every chance he gets, but I haven’t seen it with my own eyes. I can’t prove it. And right now, it’s killing me to be the principal when all I want to do is tell the little shit to back off. “I’ve told all my staff to keep him away from you as much as possible.”
He snorts angrily, cold and bitter. I honestly can’t blame him. It’s incredibly frustrating. “Right. Can I go now? Or am I suspended?”
“No. You’re not.” He probably should be. Should probably even be expelled. But I can’t do it. I know there’s more to the story. I know there’s a lot going on that we miss, and I’ll be damned if I punish the innocent. “I’ve talked to Blake about this many times, but I need you to report it. You can’t push him or take the bait. And I know it’s not fair.”
He slouches back into his chair, but he doesn’t look defeated. Not at all. The kid is strong. Having been through so much worse than the likes of Blake. I know it. I can see it in his eyes—even if I didn’t know from his file that he’s now in his brother’s care after their mother’s death. “Do you want to talk about anything right now, Cason? I want you to know you can talk to me.”
His jaw ticks with barely contained annoyance as he shifts in his seat. “Nope.” I already knew that would be his answer, but it still stings nonetheless. “How do you know Tatum?”
The question takes me aback. Totally out of left field, and I didn’t see it coming. But when I look at Cason—I know without a doubt that’s what the question was meant to do. It was a calculated play to make me as uncomfortable as he is right now, here in my office and answering questions he doesn’t want to answer.
“Um... we were friends when we were younger,” I answer with the simplest thing I can think of. Is that what we were? I don’t really know. To say seeing Tatum Luck again after these years was a shock is the understatement of the century. I was shaken to my core and haven’t been able to stop thinking about him since.
Which really pisses me off because I’d done so well for the past decade. Pushing him far into the recesses of my mind.
“So you were a foster kid too?”
A full tremor goes through my entire body at his question. Direct hit. I don’t talk about my childhood. Not ever. I don’t talk about foster care. No one knows that about me.No one.
I’ve made plenty of friends since college and starting this job, but I haven’t ever divulged that information. Something I keep locked up tight to my chest, skirting around any questions about my younger years. And now, one of my students is sitting here, his eyes an intense blaze, knowing he’s making me squirm. “He told you about that?” I ask carefully, my mouth going dry.
His eyes shine with mirth now, leaning forward a little bit, studying me. “I knowhewas, and considering he won’t talk about you—and that haunted look he gets any time you’re brought up—I just kind of assumed.”
I do my best to keep my cool, but it feels nearly impossible. Memories of the worst time of my life swarm through my brain.The most beautiful smile from a totally unexpected package—that was Tatum Luck. He was big—even when we were young. He always towered over me, but I didn’t fear him. I felt safe and protected when Tatum would show back up in my life, time and time again—until I didn’t anymore.
Until everything was taken from me. Even him.
“Do you have anything you’d like to talk to me about pertaining to school and yourself?” I ask, keeping my tone professional.
“What are you doing for dinner, Principal Valentine?”
