Staying Grounded [BXB]

Narrow Escapes

CRAIG:

I don't enjoy college.

I don't enjoy the prestigious campus or my tedious course, my tutors, or my peers. Not any single part of it. My days here are long and dull and lonely, and every one of them I suffer through has me resenting it that little bit more.

But today, as I'm walking along the corridor with Naz, having made it through another six-hour stint, the place takes an impossibly drastic turn for the worse.

The sports program at Marley Higher is abysmal, but the college does have a somewhat decent gym, and that's where we're headed. I'm telling Naz about some senseless video I've watched on youtube when it happens.

The laugh registers first, grating deep into my bones. Then I see him, lounging on a bench outside the door to my Law tutor's office, phone at his ear. And my words collapse in my throat.

Naz continues walking a few steps before he realises I'm no longer beside him. "Lawton?"

I flinch as my name seems to bounce off the walls, and just as I feared, the monster stirs.

Rising up like the End Boss in a video game, Gary Tinwell fills the corridor. He's dressed formally in a shirt and suit pants, looking as respectable as can be. It's sickening, and at the kick of his grin, my stomach clenches. "Hey, cocksucker!"

His big announcement, panic rips through my head. And anger is quick to respond. Then, I'm charging him, intent only on breaking his face.

"Whoa, let's not embarrass the both of us, eh?" He goads, and I slam on the brakes just barely in time to pull myself up short. "I've missed you, too, but this is hardly the place for such flagrant displays of affection."

My fingernails bite into my palm, and I daren't look away, but I can sense the attention I'm drawing. Naz's eyes are a burning brand on the side of my face. An attack would be playing right into Gary's hands, here. Through clenched teeth, I growl, "You cannot be for real!"

"Oh, you better believe I am." I've no idea if he's even bothered ending his call. The phone remains clenched in his beefy fist, now down by his side, as he rakes derisive eyes over me. He confirms my fear and delights in it. "Your dad really pulled through for me. I can't thank him enough. You and me, we're going to be classmates."

I'm seething. Staring. Losing control. "No!"

"Exciting, right?"

I don't waste a single further word or another second.

Spinning on my heel, I feel Naz's bewilderment scorching through my spine as I escape the scene the same way we entered it, but there's no way I'm about to hang back for him. No way I'm explaining what the hell this is all about.

"Next week onward, I'll be everywhere you look, Princess," Gary's bellowing voice follows me. 

"And that's a promise!"

It takes monumental effort to keep my pace from drawing more focus to myself.

So much for me killing him. My cowardice knows no bounds.

When I reach the car park, I'm in enough of a state that locating Roxy's bay becomes a whole other drama. And although I'm well aware I should be heading straight home, I don't. I'm in no rush to face the consequences of my defiance yesterday. I'm not in any fit state to. Especially knowing that Mum and Dad helped to orchestrate this latest twist. And also knowing that they won't even try to understand the problem I have with it.

Instead, I go to YCS. Because, why not?

I settle on a bench outside the school's fence, just far enough along from the gates to not be easily noticed, and I work very, very hard on not falling apart.

I've been sitting for about twenty minutes when I see Lyndsay. And, honestly, I don't know if it's just because she's by herself or whether she's actually the reason I felt the need to come here, but I'm up and edging toward her before I can overthink myself out of the move.

Gesturing to her, I try to catch her eye without straying too close to the drive. There's not a chance I want Alex to see me like this — or Steph, or Ashleigh, or half a dozen others. It takes a little while, but right as I'm beginning to think Lyndsay's seen me and chosen to ignore me, she stops. "Um... hi?"

"Hey Lyndsay," I smile, relieved. "Can I borrow you a minute?"

A frown puckers her brow as she approaches me, and her walk is cautious like she's not entirely sure it's wise to approach me at all. "Me? Why?"

"To talk. Please?"

The girl blushes so easily; it's adorable. Tucking a curly lock of fair hair behind her ear, she ducks her head. "I don't know, Craig. I don't really have anything to say to you."That hurts. "Then, would you listen?" I jut my head back toward the bench. "It's just, once I go home, I have no idea how long it'll be before I have the chance again. And I might have lost the bottle by then."

Her eyes narrow, completely baffled, and then she sighs. "I don't have long."

Following me to the bench, she waits for me to sit and then positions herself as far to the other end of it as she's able, angling around to assess me with her ocean deep gaze. "Are you okay?"

I shake my head but say, "Yeah. Good. You?"

"Craig," she warns, a waspish tone edging her voice. "Don't do that. Don't play your head games."

"What?" I'm genuinely stunned.

"Please, if you have something to say, say it. Otherwise, I'm leaving."

Nodding, my eyes drop to my feet, and I kick at a stubborn tuft of weed. I never thought I'd find Lyndsay just as challenging to look at as Tate. "You have no idea how much I wish things were different, Lynds."

She stays quiet.

"How much I wish you and me could work out," I continue. "Life would be so much simpler, you know?"

"No."

Still staring down, I'm trying real hard to hold myself together. "I know I've messed things up between us, okay? And I know this isn't going to change anything. I'm not expecting your forgiveness here. But..." My hand lifts to my face, fingers massaging my temple. "I just...I heard about what Tinwell did and, just... I'm so glad he didn't..." I roll my head, willing myself to hold her gaze again. "Because you're special, Lyndsay. To me. You always will be. And I needed you to know that. That's all."

For a long, long time, she does nothing more than stare at me, mouth agape, and I begin to worry she's about to explode on me. But when she does finally speak, all that she says is, "You're drunk."

It's not posed as a question, but damn, I can't not answer. "No! No, I'm not."

"Then," she stands, smoothing her hand down her dusky pink duffel coat. "I'm sorry, Craig, but you're not making sense. You're concerned about me, and that's nice, but—"

I'm quick to get to my feet, too. "Just tell me you're okay, okay? After Tinwell. You tell me you're okay, and I'll leave you alone."

"I..." She averts her eyes toward the school drive, where a steady stream of students is now flowing from the gates. "Yes. Yes, I'm good. He was stopped before it went too far."

"By Tate." I chip in unwittingly.

She nods and lifts a shoulder. "Derek chased him off. And Mikey —"

The moment his name leaves her mouth, I cut her off with a hug. My arms around her torso startle her to silence. I just can't hear her telling me, too, that he is the real hero of that night because I refuse to believe it.

"Craig." Her hand beats on my back.

"I honestly don't know what you both see in him," I whisper in her ear before letting her go.

And then I walk away.