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Detention Buddies
"...What?"
It's the first, and apparently only, word I can manage after a full minute of silence.
"Please don't make me say it again, Lyn."
I don't want him saying it again. I don't want to believe it. "What would make you even say that, Jack?"
Even though I don't want to believe it, there's no denying how emotionless my voice sounds. As if I'm struggling to even sound like I don't think it's true.
There's been distance between us recently, that's for sure. But should I really be shocked that he'd cheat?
Yes. Hell yes. We're in a relationship. There are lines you never cross, and he supposedly crossed the worst one.
"He told me."
"He told you?" I ask, making it clear I'm going to need more than that.
"Yesterday when we went to play pool with the guys I could tell something was off. I figured you two had gotten into a fight since he was on the phone with you when I showed up."
Is it pathetic that I breathe a sigh of relief at the fact that he at least hadn't lied on the phone? That Jack really was there, and not someone else?
"He drank a couple of beers after, but never said what was wrong. Patrick dropped us back to my place so Trish wouldn't see him like that. You know what she'd do if she saw," he continues, and I hate how I sympathize for the briefest second with Liam because I do know how hard his mother is on him. "Anyway, he was talking all kinds of crazy. I mean, he was seriously messed up, Lyn. You know Liam never talks about how he feels or anything, but he wouldn't stop talking all night. He even cried at one point."
"Get to the part where he said he cheated on me." The last thing I need is him making me feel sorry for Liam.
"That's why he cried," Jack reveals. "I couldn't put it together at first, but eventually it made sense when he started saying how he messed up. Then he mentioned your name and how much he loves you, and said the other girl wasn't worth it."
I lean on the wall for support, thankful no one's come in here yet. How could he even say that? As if it'd been okay if the other girl had been worth it. Would he have not felt bad?
"Is that... is that all?" I ask with a shaky voice, willing myself not to shed any tears right now.
"Well, I didn't get the full story until this morning when he woke up."
"Oh God," I mumble while raising a hand to my head. He sent me that loving voicemail this morning, after confessing to Jack, after cheating. And I believed it, like a fucking idiot. "What else did he say?"
"He... he said it didn't happen until after you moved. I don't think that makes this any easier, but you should know that he wasn't doing anything behind your back while you were here. And it only happened twice in the last week."
I scoff, because that doesn't make this any better. And why is he defending him? I get that's his best friend, but if they were so close to begin with, then why call to rat him out?
"Why are you even telling me this? I'm sure Liam doesn't want me to know," I whisper, not trusting my voice to get any higher without tears coming.
"Trust me, I wasn't going too. I planned on taking this shit to my grave because you both have crazy tempers," Jack huffs, making me even more curious as to what changed his mind. "But... when Liam told me everything and how he planned on not saying anything to you about it, it just felt so... wrong."
I take a huge breath before asking, "What was everything he said, Jack? What was it that made you decide to tell me?"
"Remember not to shoot the messenger, Lyn," he reiterates.
"Spit it the fuck out," I snap.
He sighs, most likely regretting saying anything at all, but answers me anyway. "Because of who he cheated with."
I widen my eyes. I hadn't even thought of that part, it didn't cross my mind. Partly because I don't want to be the type of person who blames the other woman in the scenario instead of the man who was supposed to be loyal. Mostly because I still can't process that any of this is happening right now.
I really thought we would be okay.
"Jack," I call out, noticing how the phone went silent after he spoke. "Who's the girl?"
"Lyn, I'm so sorry... but it's Jessica."
Thank God I was leaning against the wall, because I immediately slide down it and have to sit from the shock.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" I shout into the phone.
"I wish I was."
I can hear the regret in his voice, so I take a moment in my mind to praise him for his morals, because now I have a million questions as to how that even happened.
"How?" Is all I can manage.
"Apparently they got closer after you left, and things just went on from there," Jack explains. "It sounds sick that they bonded over you and ended up messing around, but you needed to know. It wasn't just a boyfriend cheating and realizing he messed up... it was your best friend going along with it. And they both were going to pretend it didn't happen. But they're still talking. It can just be innocent, I don't know, but as someone who's been betrayed that way, I couldn't not tell you."
I take in what he said, remembering last year when Liam told me Jack's girlfriend cheated with his cousin. Not the same as a best friend, but maybe that's worse because it was family. Either way, it fucking sucks.
The bell rings, signalling that class is over.
"Oh shit, you're in school?"
"Uh, yeah, they have those here," I say, attempting to make a joke.
"I'm sorry, Lyn. We had off today, I figured you did too. I wouldn't have asked you to call me if I knew."
"No, no, it's fine... it's all fine," I insist, though we both know none of this is fucking fine.
"I'm gonna let you get back to it, Lyn. Don't skip class," he says sternly, having always taken school as seriously as I did.
"Wait," I quickly call out. "Does Liam know?"
"Does Liam know..." he repeats, before understanding. "Oh. No. Not yet. I'm supposed to see him at a BBQ tonight. I'm gonna let him know I told you. Honestly, I think he kind of already knew I'd have trouble keeping quiet."
"No, don't tell him."
"Huh?"
"You don't need to be involved in this anymore. I'll handle it from here," I say firmly, leaving no room for argument. "Thank you for telling me."
"Good luck, Lyn," he says as goodbye.
We end the call, and right then and there, I know this is the first step in ending all Beach Way High School ties.
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I raise my head from my arms, having been sitting against the wall for almost ten minutes now, trying to stop myself from crying.
Somehow, only one girl walked in. It was clearly a freshman from the way she only looked at me confused, but didn't care about spreading my business.
She asked if I was okay while washing her hands. I said no, and she said okay, then left.
She may be the only person in this school I like since she had the common sense to leave me and my thoughts alone.
Ignorance is bliss.
That's the one thought running around my mind. How great it is to not know something. I was scared of the dark for most of my childhood, but now I wish I could spend the rest of my life in it.
Or to have at least spent the next few hours in it, seeing as freaking out in Arlin Preparatory High School's dirty girls bathroom is not ideal.
Yet, just like with everything else in my life, I never get what I want.
I didn't get to stay on the swim team, I didn't get to stay in Miami, I didn't get the seat I want in class, and I didn't get a perfect, loving relationship.
Is it my fault? The relationship failing... is that on me? Did I not fight hard enough to stay... for us?
My parents pop up in my mind. The cause of it all.
Maybe things wouldn't have gotten so bad if they hadn't made me move... either time. Moving to Florida meant meeting Liam, and moving to New York meant losing him.
How was I even supposed to know how to maintain a perfect relationship anyway? The one I saw growing up was nowhere near that. It wasn't the slightest bit healthy.
I mean, I don't have much to compare it too, but even then, it was always clear to see that the arguing, the horrible and mean things shouted into the late hours of the night, the slamming doors and weeping in the next room, the wondering if my dad would come back... wondering if Mom would ever leave her room... that couldn't have been healthy.
But hey, who am I to judge? Because my boyfriend cheated on me. With my best friend.
Just the thought makes me sick to my fucking stomach.
Is that why I was feeling so sick before? Did some part of me know something was going to happen, did I know this all along? Did I try pretending things were okay when I clearly knew they weren't?
What is wrong with me?
No. I refuse to blame myself. This is on Liam and Jessica. My own boyfriend and best friend who went behind my back and did the dirtiest thing they could.
Twice. In the last week. The week I was trying to reach out to Liam and wondering why Jessica wasn't answering me.
Oh my fucking God, were they together whenever I called?
The new thought makes it even harder to stop the sobs from coming out, and soon after they're pouring out of my body.
This is all their fault. And my own fucking parents for making me move. Because if I didn't move, this wouldn't have happened. It couldn't have. Right? That's how Jack made it seem. And apparently nothing happened until I left.
Just another reason to hate the fact that we moved.
I stand from the floor when I realize how long I've been sitting here. Good thing I took my book with me when I left class. I guess some part of me knew I wouldn't make it back.
I head over to the sink to splash cold water on my face. After drying off, I scold myself for even shedding a tear over those two traitors.
I decide it's best to leave the bathroom, since I can't afford to miss anymore classes. Just as I'm walking out the door, I knock into someone who's much bigger than me since the impact sends me flying back.
The breath is practically knocked out of me, and I briefly remind myself that there are worse things in life than being cheated on, like the physical pain I'm feeling in my boobs from my book knocking into my chest harshly.
"Stay the fuck out of my way, Boulevard."
Oh great, just the person I needed to literally run into!
"Why don't you leave me the fuck alone, dick?"
"Ooh, is that the nickname you've decided to give me? I'd love to hear the origin story behind it."
I snap my head his way, but keep my hands over my chest, trying to remedy the aching away. "Don't be disgusting. I'm not in the mood."
"When will you be in the mood?" He asks cheekily, walking closer to me.
What is happening right now? Is he... flirting?
"What do you want, David?" I ask skeptically.
He comes closer, reaching out to push a stray hair behind my ear. My wide eyes follow his movements, extremely confused and uncomfortable now.
David leans in more and whispers, "Just want to see if you're as easy as everyone's saying."
My hand moves on it's own before my brain can process it. I only realize what I've done once David's head quickly turns to the side, my palm stinging after the impact.
He brings his hand up to rub his toned check, turning back to me with shock and anger on his face. "Really?"
"What have I done to you?"
"Besides just smack the shit out of me for no reason?"
"I smacked you because you were rude," I reply, not caring at all that I basically assaulted someone. "You've been rude to me ever since we met. Why?"
"Do I need a reason?" He asks after dropping his hand from his face.
"Yes, you do. I haven't done anything to you. Unless there's something I've done that you don't like?" He lightly laughs at that, but covers it with a cough. "If I did, tell me what it was. I don't want to spend the rest of the school year dealing with this."
"Oh, Boulevard," he says with a sigh. "I just don't like you. It's as simple as that."
He smiles and shrugs his shoulders as if we're merely discussing the weather or a class.
I move to walk around him, coming to the conclusion that this conversation isn't going anywhere positive.
"Where are you going, Boulevard? It's rude to walk away in the middle of a conversation," he calls out behind me, and I can practically hear the smirk in his voice.
I feel his hand lightly touch my arm, wanting to tug me back to him, but I shove it off and swirl around.
"Leave me alone!" I scream.
Why can't he just leave me alone? I just want everyone to leave me alone, the same way Liam and Jess have chosen too for the past week while they fooled around behind my back.
My eyes water at the thought, and though I quickly blink it away, David doesn't miss it.
"What are you crying about?" He asks tauntingly, smile still present on his face.
"Can you not be mean for two seconds? You have no idea what I'm going through right now," I say before I can think it through, but I mean it.
Yes, I know people in the world have it worse than me, but right now it feels like they don't. It feels like I'm the only person who's been treated like shit by the people they love.
"What you're going through?" David repeats, amused at my dramatics. "Boulevard, stop being a wimp and suck it up. Nothing could have happened in a matter of minutes that could excuse you bursting out in tears during a normal conversation."
Holy shit, this guy really is the worst. How can Daniel possibly be his twin? Hell, how could Malia and Jalen possibly be friends with him? Even they're not this bad, they're nowhere near it.
"Fuck you," I say firmly.
"Fuck you back," he quickly says with a laugh.
"Williams! I thought I heard a female yelling. I should have figured either you or Uccello would be involved... like always," a teacher scolds while walking out of a room down the hall. She looks toward me and tsks. "Yelling and crying? I'm not surprised. You two boys just don't care, huh? Are you okay, honey?"
I'm stunned at what she's saying, but I nod my head at her anyway.
"Good," she smiles sweetly, then turns serious. "I'll see you both in detention. Don't cut class to argue in the halls again."
Woah! What happened to that kind lady from two seconds ago?
She walks off after, leaving me still stunned, with an angry David storming off in the opposite direction.
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I reread the short text I sent my mother, informing her that I'll be home late because I have detention. That's all I said, so I already know she's going to blow up my phone with a thousand questions. That's why I happily shut it off and place it in the basket in front of the room, unlike the other few students that complain about having to do so.
"Want to keep your phones by you all hours of the day? Don't do anything to land yourself in detention, then," the same teacher from earlier in the hallway announces.
Mrs. Padilla, I find out is her name, sends the class a sharp smile before sitting at her desk and taking out her laptop.
I take a seat in the middle of the room, moving to retrieve a book from my bag. Might as well get a head start on my AP Literature reading assignment for the week.
"Great to see you again, Joy," a male voice greets brightly from the front of the room.
I know it's Jalen's voice before looking his way, yet I'm still shocked to see him here. Last we spoke, he was violating every dress code yet no one said shit to him, and that seemed like it was normal around here. Now he's in detention?
David's standing behind him, glaring at Mrs. Padilla. "We're not friends anymore, Joy."
"Drop your phones and take your seats," she responds without removing her eyes from the screen, obviously not caring that they're calling her by her first name.
They do as she says before scanning the room, both gazes landing on me. I briefly look at Jalen, who's wearing his leather jacket again, making sure those blue eyes shine brightly against it. Then I turn to David, who's already glaring at me.
"What?" I snap, unable to stop myself.
He seems a little shocked by the outburst, but his face stays hardened. "Don't use that tone with me, Boulevard. You're the reason we're here."
They walk my way and each take a seat at the table I'm at, across from me. "And how is it my fault that you were being a complete asshole to me?"
David tilts his head to the side. "You smacked me, Boulevard. That's assault."
I shrug my shoulders and lean back, not giving a fuck. I'm pissed and wish I could do a lot more than that. "Again, you shouldn't have been acting like an ass. Enjoy your time in detention."
"Oh, dollface, I'm not staying here."
"You're cutting detention?"
"Yup," he announces cheerily. "Just gonna sign my name in and dip. I got some business to take care of."
"How the fuck are you gonna get away with cutting?"
David sends me a flat look. "Jalen's here and staying. Joy will be too shocked to notice I'm gone."
He stands and leaves after that, and he's right, Joy—damn it, I mean Mrs. Padilla—doesn't even look up.
"You really have detention, or you're just taking David's place?" I question Jalen, hoping the soft tone of my voice conveys that I come in peace.
"Both. I always have detention. I'm always getting yelled at for something," he says with a shrug, turning to look at me. Damn, even when he's brooding he's beautiful. "But since David had, I figured I'd go with him. He conveniently left out the part where he was going to ditch me, though."
"Because he's an ass," I state.
Jalen brings his finger to his lower lip, lightly brushing over it and furrowing his brows in thought. "What happened?"
"David didn't tell you?"
"He told me about a disagreement in the hallway, but that's not what I'm asking," Jalen says, removing his hand from his face and sitting up straight. "What happened in class?"
I freeze, not expecting that. "What do you mean?"
"You ran out, Lyndon. Did something bad happen?"
The longer I look in his eyes the worse I feel. I can't take the way they soften with each passing second, I can't take the concerned look in them. I can't take the way his lips are pulled down in a frown over something bad happening to me.
"I don't wanna talk about it," I whisper, unable to even get the words out due to the overwhelming emotions I'm feeling.
Does he really care? Why does that even matter?
"Must've been something really bad then," Jalen states.
"Jalen," I scold, really not wanting to get into it.
He raises his hands in surrender. "Alright. I'll take the hint."
My eyes widen at the words, not missing the meaning held behind them, seeing as just yesterday is when they were used harshly. I'm worried for a second that we'll argue, because I don't want too. I can't take anymore confrontation today. Especially when the biggest ones haven't even happened yet.
But instead of arguing, or even getting upset, I see Jalen's smiling, just enough for a faint outline of his dimple to appear.
"Sorry about that," I find myself saying.
He nods his head once. "Say no more."
"We're good?" I ask unsurely.
"We're good."
There's no emotion in his tone and his smile's gone.
"Are you sure?" I ask squeakily. "I'm getting a I'm secretly mad vibe from you." I motion with my hands around him, and wonder to myself why I even care. Just twenty-four hours ago I wanted nothing to do with him, yet five minutes talking in detention has me changing my mind.
"I'm not secretly mad," he replies.
"Promise?" I stick my pinky out.
He laughs, but hooks his pinky through mine anyway. "I promise, Lyndon."
My stomach flutters at the way he says my name, but I ignore it, convincing myself I just want to make another friend.
We're quiet for a moment, each falling into our own things. I read a chapter from my book and Jalen starts drawing in a notebook.
I notice we're being watched, not by the teacher, but the students. They seem confused, and it doesn't take much for me to circle back around to the fact that Jalen said he's always in trouble, but never actually goes to detention. That must be why everyone's watching him like he's an animal at the damn zoo.
"Does it ever bother you?"
Confusion crosses Jalen's face at my abrupt question. His head tilts to the side, lips turning down in a frown as he tries understanding what I'm asking. He resembles an innocent puppy, making it extremely hard for me to remind myself that there's nothing innocent about this boy—not with the way Mrs. Padilla talked about David and him in the hallway.
"The stares," I clarify.
"No," Jalen says with a laugh. "I'm assuming they bother you, though."
I nod my head. "Good observation."
"That's what yesterday morning was all about," he says rather than asks, letting me know that Jalen may not be any of my AP classes, but he's not dumb.
With the way his calculating eyes watch my every move after he speaks, it's clear that he takes in everything. Facial expressions, body language, any give away as to how I feel. He pays attention to every detail.
"Yeah," I breathe out, seeing no point in denying it. "I don't get how you and Malia deal with that all the time."
"It's just stares, Lyndon," he says calmly.
"What about the rumors then?" I counter, wondering if I should even bring them up or not. "You've had to have heard at least some of the things that go around about you."
This may only be my fourth day at Arlin Preparatory, but I didn't need more than one to know Jalen's the most talked about person. His relationships with Malia and Cortney, his apparent side flings with different girls, his constant rebelling against the rules but never getting in trouble.
Just this morning I heard he's untouchable because of his parents, and remembering that specific rumor makes me want to run home and google the Uccello family name.
Jalen stares at me for a few moments, then wets his lips before speaking, making it extremely hard to keep my focus off of his mouth as he talks. "Again, they're just stares and rumors. As long as no one's saying anything to my face, I don't care."
His words pull my attention off his lips, as my gaze quickly scans the room. I think back to the times I've seen Jalen in the halls or in passing at lunch. Whispers go around, but no one actually approaches him. People quiet down once he gets closer.
It's almost as if they're scared of him.
And the more I think about it, the more I realize he doesn't ever talk to anybody. I only see him with David. I think he sits with Malia, Elijah, and Daniel at lunch, I'm not entirely sure since I made it my mission to avoid them, but still he's only ever really with David.
"I guess it is easier to deal with it when no one says anything to you," I comment.
For a second, Jalen's jaw clenches. "Has someone said something to you?"
I pause to think. Has someone actually said something to me? So far, it's all just been about me. I've heard it because they're not always so subtle, but not once has anyone came up to me.
Well, one person has.
"Just your asshole of a best friend."
I watch as Jalen visibly relaxes, clearly not caring about whatever David says to me.
"Ignore him," he advises. "It's what I do most of the time."
Jalen cracks a sly smile, a teasing glint showing in his eyes. I haven't seen this playful side of him since the night we met. It wasn't that long ago, it just feels like it was. Time in Arlin Preparatory moves painfully slow.
"I wish I could ignore him all of the time. Show me your ways," I joke.
"It takes years of practice. I don't know if you have that kind of time," he says as he shakes his head, dimple lightly appearing.
"Trust me, I have nothing else going on. I have all the time in the world." I'm joking, but not really. The wound from Liam and Jessica's betrayal is fresh, but it's already dawning on me that all the time I usually spend reaching out to them is now free.
"That's a little lame."
I look over at Jalen with fake offense. "Wow, okay. Not everyone is busy having all these adoring fans drool over them all day."
He turns to the rest of the students in the class, taking in the two girls sitting a few seats away, watching him—watching us.
We laugh together at how obvious they're being, and this moment makes me wonder exactly why people seem so scared of approaching Jalen.
"Why is it that people talk about you so much? Why are they so fascinated with you?" I ask, wanting to know the answer to this question for days now.
"Come on. Why wouldn't they be?" He raises an eyebrow, motioning toward himself confidently.
I give him a look over before making—what I'm hoping resembles—an unimpressed face, though we both know there's no way in hell I actually mean it.
"I'm being serious. They're obsessed. Has it always been like this?"
Jalen avoids eye contact, reaching for his pencil and going back to drawing in his notebook.
"Hello?" I sing, hoping that won't make me come off too pushy, but damn it, I'm dying to know the answer even more now.
"I don't wanna talk about it," he repeats my earlier words with a small smile.
"Fine," I say in a clipped voice. "I guess I'll take the hint."
But I'm not letting it go. Hell no. This clearly means something happened to make him so talked about, and I want to know.
"What are you drawing?" I ask instead, unable to stop my curiosity for all things Jalen-related.
This is how I felt the night we met. I tried pushing it away when I realized people were talking about me, but clearly that's not working. I can't make them stop and I can't avoid Jalen, or any of his friends. They're everywhere.
And he's right. As long as no one says anything to my face, then what's the harm? Rumors are just rumors, just as both Malia and Jalen said.
Jalen looks up at me unsurely, but slides his notebook to me after a few seconds of thinking.
I see it's the same circle and lines he was drawing in health, and now that I can see them closer, I realize they're musical notes.
"You play an instrument?" I ask in disbelief.
"Don't sound too shocked," Jalen jokes, but I can't help noticing the timidness in his voice.
He seems unsure of himself right now, so I try fixing my bewildered expression. "I just didn't expect that from you. What do you play?"
His eyes search mine for a second, before he mumbles, "The piano... sometimes."
"Wow. You're a pianist?" I ask, giggling immaturely at how closely that word resembles... something else.
Damn, I really need to grow up.
"I wouldn't call myself a professional or anything," he starts saying.
"Oh, don't be so modest. I bet you're really good at it if you spend your time in class drawing the notes."
Jalen smirks, making me wonder why he had to let that face make a comeback. I was really enjoying just seeing him smile.
"You were watching what I was doing in class?"
I can't see myself, but I know my cheeks are reddening at what I just revealed.
"No, I was just—"
"Staring at me," Jalen finishes for me.
I roll my eyes. "I wasn't staring, I was—"
"Admiring?" He offers with a cocky grin.
"Fuck off," I choose to say, seeing as he isn't letting me finish any other sentence.
The sound of his laugh is drowned out by Mrs. Padilla's alarm on her phone going off, indicating detention is done... I think? I'm not sure. She didn't really explain how this was going to go.
My assumption must be right since the other students in the room start getting up. Jalen stands and motions with his head toward the door. "Come on," he says softly.
I nod and stand as well. I follow him to the front of the room before noticing he's walking straight for the exit. "Jalen."
He turns and looks at me expectantly, but I freeze for a second at the other five people who stopped to stare after hearing his name being said by me.
Just ignore it, Lyndon. They're not saying anything to you so it doesn't matter.
"Don't you need to get your phone?" I ask as I reach for my own.
Jalen laughs in response, then swings his arm over my shoulder to guide me out of the room when he sees I'm not moving. "Lyndon, you actually gave your phone in?"
I hold my hands out in front of me in confusion. "That was literally the one rule Mrs. Padilla gave!"
He laughs again but says no more as he leads us out of the school. Once I notice we're heading toward the parking lot, it settles in that he has his arm around me. I'm not pushed up against his body, but it's close enough that I faintly smell his cologne.
Before I let myself get anymore wrapped up in his intoxicating presence—especially only a few hours since I heard the news of my boyfriend fucking cheating on me—I hear a car horn in the distance, giving me an excuse to pull away from Jalen.
God knows I needed one because I clearly wasn't gonna do it on my own.
When I look toward the direction of the noise I don't recognize the car, but upon closer inspection, I recognize my idiot brother behind the wheel.
"You know who that is?" Jalen asks, taking a step in front of me and looking closer at the car. Recognition shows on his face before he turns around. "It's your brother?"
"Yeah," I say in shock. "Apparently he has a car now." He honks the damn horn again. "And he's an impatient motherfucker!" I yell Noah's way.
I turn back to Jalen, wondering if the vacant look in his eyes means he's disappointed I have a ride home or if that's just his natural expression.
"I guess I'll see you tomorrow?" I ask, unsure of how to part ways.
He smiles and nods, sticking his hands into his front pockets. "See you tomorrow."
I send him one last look before making my way toward Noah, repeating over and over in my head to not trip and fall and embarrass myself because I know Jalen's watching.