Page 26 of The Jester and His Outlaw: Part One

Where am I going? Seriously?I don’t want to sit around and let him belittle me and disrespect me.

“Okay, what is your problem? Do you want to talk to me about our classwork or do you want to be a dick?” I snap, raising my brows at him derisively, expectant.

I hate myself for giving into his jabs, but I’ve had enough. He could avoid me and make this year nice, but he continues to carry on. I don’t get it when he so clearly wants nothing to do with me. Why else would he leave Foxy’s party in the middle of a group chat? If it’s because he can’t be around me, that is pathetic. And he’ll have to get over it. Foxy is my best friend, and Kai is my brother. We are bound to cross paths during more than school, especially since Foxy is making her move on Jensen.

“My problem is, you can’t seem to leave me alone. You’re always around this year. You’re like a flea I can’t seem to shake,” he says bitterly.

“They assigned us a project that we need to finish. It’s not like I’m trying to hang out with you. Plus, you’re the one that followed me out of the classroom,” I point out. His shoulders tense and he grits his teeth. Sure, I haven’t been able to keep myself away from him, which is a coincidence, but today, this is on him.

“Good, because I’ll never hang out with you. I told you what to write. Surely you can come up with something,” he growls.

I ignore his taunts and push on. He follows, stopping at his locker. For whatever reason, I stop with him. I hate leaving conversations unfinished, even if this one is bound to end in the dumpster. He spins in the combination of his lock and flings the door open. His movements are harsh and full of irritation as he rifles through his shit. The tiny metal space is surprisingly organized for his daily appearance, bare, but organized.

“I want a good grade on this assignment. Why won’t you meet up with me and answer the questions? Or write your answers down, then we’ll trade papers. We don’t even have to talk.” He seems to consider that option, but his face is still twisted in disgust. He turns his back on me and places some books in his locker. “Why do you hate me so much? Is it really because of the mistakes I made last year?”

“Mistakes?” he scoffs. “You simply made mistakes?”

I stand tall. “Yes, and I’ve tried to apologize for them.”

“You can’t apologize and anticipate it’s going to go away. God, you’re all the same. You all but ruined her life, certainly destroyed her high school career here. She needed this school, this scholarship.”

Tears well up in my eyes as guilt rushes to the surface for what I did. It’s all immediate, no stopping it. These are words I need, words I’ve feared for the longest time. I knew the weight of my actions, the consequences for that poor girl. That didn’t stop me from doing it. But deep down, I’m not sorry because I want to fix my reputation. No, I’m truly sorry for what I did to her. No one deserves to be treated like that.Ihave no right to treat anyone like that.

“Are you aware Sam tried to kill herself? Jonas and Katherine didn’t stop with Rusty Crotch. They cornered her under the bleachers…” his voice trails off. My knees threaten to buckle, and a sob escapes me. He heard it because I saw his frame jerk, but I’m thankful he’s facing away from me. This is not something I want to show him.

I slap one hand over my mouth, the other over my stomach. I’m going to be sick, but I’m fighting it back. Something shifts in Riggs when turns back to me—a look of genuine surprise before he slips his mask of hatred back in place.

“Sam….” I whisper her name to myself. Her name isSam. I’ve never known it, which is dumb on my part. Finding someone’s name is easy in this day and age. A part of me didn’t want to learn her name because it would make it more real. Selfish, ridiculous, childish, but I’ve avoided it like the plague. “Her name is Sam?”

“You don’t even know her name?” he sneers, peering down his nose at me. If there was anything in him other than derision, that is gone now. “Oh, that’s too fucking good.”

I can practically see the steam rising from his rigid frame. A tear slips down my cheek, and I wipe it away. I’m not afraid to cry, but crying in front of him is only going to make it worse. He’ll think they’re crocodile tears, that I’m putting on a show. He feels I’m not capable of genuine emotion. That couldn’t be further from the truth.

Shaking his head, he pivots and stuffs his books in his locker. Then he grabs a hat and tugs it down on his head, brim to the back. When he turns back to me, I’ve sucked up the tears, but I can’t stop my chin from trembling. He glances at my face and huffs a breath. “Sam is fine now,” he tells me piteously.

I’m not sure if he’s doing it because he feels bad or if he wants to drive the knife a little deeper. His tone is flat, and he’s locked up his eyes again, but his expression is far from anything that I’d call happy or understanding. “She had a rough go, but she is happy at her new school.” His tone isn’t condescending or meant to be rude. It’s almost genuine as he studies my face.

“Thank you for cluing me in. Will you tell her I’m sorry? That I’d love to apologize to her face to face.”

“She would never want to see you.” I don’t let my face show how much that statement hurts. I will not continue to grovel for him. He doesn’t deserve it. My transgressions were toward Sam, not him. He isn’t allowed to see how much this is tearing me apart because it won’t change anything between us.

“I’ll write my answers down tonight and give them to you tomorrow so you can get a proper grade on this assignment,” I mention, dejected and ready to get the hell out of here. I turn and leave, heading straight for the bathroom.

“Hey bitch, you in here?”Foxy’s words echo around the bathroom, mingling with the sounds of my ugly-cry sobs.

“Yeah,” I whimper, hiccuping. My pity party is full blown.Full fucking blown. I’m holding nothing back. I realize it’s something that needed to happen. Learning her name broke something inside of me and along with his cold words…she would never want to see you…I’ll never be able to make it right. At least not in my eyes. I hid behind not knowing her name, kept it from myself because not knowing made it easier. As if it were some sort of dream I could keep at bay. What sort of person does that make me? No matter what I do—how good I become—I will always have what I did to her in the back of my mind.

You can be the nicest person in the world, but you’re the villain in someone’s story.That’s what Chandler always tells me.

Foxy’s feet appear at the bottom of the door, and it jiggles when she tests to see if I locked myself in here or not. When she swings it open, her jaw drops.

What a sight I must be. My face is swollen and red, it always is when I cry. My eyes are burning and itchy, swollen as well, just like my lips. I’m sure there are little chunks of toilet paper stuck on my damp skin because my nose is running. Paper towels would’ve been better to use, but I couldn’t risk venturing back out once I was in the stall.

Concern and pity flicker through her eyes before she raises a sarcastic brow. “Remembering how much of a bitch you were last year?”

I sob again, and her mirth falters. She’s trying to make me laugh, take the power out of the situation. We are aware it’s no laughing matter, but it helps when Foxy reminds me I’m not that person. “Did you know she tried to kill herself over what I said?”

“She did not try to kill herself over whatyousaid, babe. She did that because of the shit Jonas pulled afterward. He’s a twisted motherfucker and deserves to rot in jail, but he’s got her so scared that she won’t go to the cops. That’s what a mix of money and bad morals get you.” Wait… that’s the second time this was mentioned. What the hell happened to her under the bleachers? Maybe that’s why Riggs is so hell bent on being a dick to me. Does he think I’m going to get back with Jonas after whatever he did? Because that will never happen. Not like I owe him an explanation or anything, but he left the party right after Brett asked that.

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