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But I'm not sorry I asked. Something happened to her, something that's changed her. I get it, she’s pissed at me for leaving and breaking it off with her without another word, but that was years ago. Surely she isn’t holding this kind of grudge over that. She stomps her foot, stands, flattening out her tights like she is trying to regain some control over her emotions, and stalks from my office, her long hair swaying wildly from side to side as she goes.
I pushed her because I wanted to, but it's my heart that is going fucking nuts in my chest, just being so close to her again, our eyes locked even if it was with hate. She has an effect over me no other girl ever has, and I’m thankful I’m sitting at my desk, because that little altercation with the fiery redhead has left me with a motherfucking boner the size of Mount Everest.
My attraction to her, no matter how inconvenient, is still there. I heard her words. She wants nothing to do with me. So why does that make the desire to chase her and find out exactly why even more enticing?
CHAPTER THREE
CASSANDRA
IslamBetty’sdoorand storm into the house, kicking off my shoes and stalking straight for my bedroom. There’s so much tension in my body that I feel like I could snap or break or just fall apart in a heap on the floor. But I won’t. That’s not me. I don’t fall apart, not anymore. I’m in control of my emotions, and I keep them in check at all times. On the outside, anyway. The shit that is in my head, well, that’s another story altogether. Except when it comes to him. Today is a bitter reminder of how much he messes with my brain.
“How was your first day?” my mother’s sweet, kind voice calls after me. I was hoping to get through the house without being spotted by anyone in my family. I’m one of four girls, but it’s just my parents and one of my sisters, Jasmine, that live here now. My third sister, Andy, lives in LA with her fiancé, Brad, and Amelia, the oldest, is still in Palm Springs but in her own place with her two little kids. No luck sneaking in unnoticed today since Mom’s spotted me.
I want to yell back, “It was shit,” but I don’t. I tell her what I know she wants to hear. That I’m happy and everything is peachy. “Perfect,” I singsong in an upbeat tone, such an excellent actor. “Just need a shower. I’m super tired,” I add, so she doesn’t follow me to ask more questions.
Mom has been so excited since she heard I landed a full-time teaching position. She was the one who suggested I become a teacher, after all. And I’m pretty sure she was the one who somehow got me the interview. I have no idea how she holds so much power in this town, but she does, and she uses her position to help her four daughters whenever she can.
I never told her the full extent of what happened when Jasmine and I traveled to New York for my audition all those years ago. All she knows is that I wasn’t accepted into the school. And that’s all she will ever know because the truth would kill her. Jasmine is the only one who really knows what happened, and I know she will never tell a soul. But when I came home, my lifelong dreams in tatters, Mom was ready with ideas of how I could turn my future around so it worked for me. It’s nice to have such supportive parents, but all I wanted to do at the time was curl up in a ball and hide from the world. My life as I knew it was over. I was damaged in a way I didn’t know how to fix; it felt like a fire had been lit inside of me, burning everything good in there to charcoal. I was a blackened mess.
My family was all there for me. They helped me rebuild as best they could, but just like when a brushfire rips through the forest, there are still parts of me that are left as charcoal and will never be able to thrive again. I have accepted that now.
“Dinner will be ready in half an hour,” she calls a little louder so I can still hear her as I hurry down the hall.
“Thanks, Mom,” I reply, closing the door to the bathroom. I lean my head against it, needing some sort of hard surface to hold me up. I let my eyes shut, all the events of the day really hitting me. There is an uncomfortable throb of energy right through my body. I feel tense and sore in a way I don't understand. It's like I've been trying to hold it all together so hard that I have actually injured myself.
It’s times like this I wish I could cry. Just let it all out. That might help to ease the awful feelings I’m having inside. But I can’t. Tears just don’t leave my eyes anymore. I’m left with an overwhelming feeling of pain mixed with anger and frustration, that nothing seems to fix. Yeah, the anti-anxiety meds help to numb me, but they don’t stop it all. And right now, it all feels more out of control than I have ever felt. My toes are bunched up tight, and the tension in my jaw is so bad I’m surprised I haven’t broken a tooth.
A hot shower couldn’t make it worse, though, so I pry my head away from the door and undress. Catching sight of my watch as I take it off, I notice it’s nearly seven. No wonder Mom was making a point of telling me dinner is nearly ready. Seriously, I lost track of time this afternoon. One minute I was storming out of school, furious, the next I realized it was dark and I had been staring out over the lookout for way too long.
I don’t know why I ended up there, of all places, but I wasn’t ready to come home and face my family. Maybe something in me thought if I went back to where it all fell apart with me and Brandon, I could make sense of the stupid way I was feeling after seeing him. I purposely haven’t been out there since the night when Jasmine found us. If only we hadn’t been seen by that damn busybody, my dad never would’ve found out about us. But it’s too late now, we can’t change the past.
That night at the lookout was the last time I saw Brandon, and it was the last time I truly felt happy, so I have avoided the place ever since. Back then, I thought my life was perfect. I had hopes and dreams, blissfully content with a life I thought would last forever. I can’t even imagine what that would feel like anymore. It doesn't even matter now.
I turn the water to scorching and step under the spray, letting the heat ease the pain of my tense body. Everything hurts: my skin, my muscles, my head, and most of my entire chest. There is a dull ache that feels like it’s stealing my breath, slowly squeezing like there is a boa constrictor wrapped around my ribcage. Maybe I overdid it today dancing with Scarlet, or maybe I’m having a heart attack? At the ripe old age of twenty-three, my body is giving up on me. The absolute terror of seeing Brandon again was enough to end my life for good.
That’s probably what this feeling is. Part of me is still in disbelief that he called me into his office. I don’t want a thing to do with the man; I’m actually horrified he is at the same school as me. Why would he feel the need to ask me to keep my distance? Fuck, it makes me so mad. Oh, and even worse, to instruct me not to flirt in the office. The thought makes me want to scream. What an absolute control freak asshole! I’m going to flirt even harder, really piss him off now. Show him I don’t give a flying fuck what he wants me to do. He might technically be my superior, and some sort of hero around the school, but as long as I do my job, I know he can’t touch me.
After I have used way too much of the family’s hot water, I finish up my shower and dress in some leggings and a baggy sweater, needing to be as comfy as possible. The house now smells like a bakery in the early morning, with the scent of Mom’s famous chicken-and-leek pie wafting down the hall. I paint on my best fake smile and walk into the room like I’m happy to be here.
“Dinner smells amazing,” I tell my mother.
“Thanks, darling, thought we better have a little celebration for your first day, and I know this pie is one of your favorites.”
I smile a little harder, my cheeks now hurting from the effort, and take a seat at the table, tucking my legs up and hugging them to my chest. “How was your day, Jas?” I ask my big sister, who is already at the table, staring out the dining-room window, off with the fairies like she has been since she moved back home a week ago. After years of doing her own thing, she had a bit of bad luck, and it's landed her back here with us.
She looks over at me. “Yeah, fine.” She shrugs with a half-smile, and it looks just as painted on as mine is. She’s a mess. Men, they’re no good for any of us. Well, maybe Andy, she seems to have found her Mr. Right. But Jasmine has just had her heart broken by the guy she was seeing, Axel, and watching her go through it has been awful. I wish I could do something to help her, but I know from experience she needs to work through this herself. She will move on and get over it, just like I did. I’m sure.
Dinner is unusually quiet for our family, with a few questions from my parents about the changes to the school and my job. But that’s it. We all seem to be stuck in our own thoughts tonight. I enjoy my pie as best I can, knowing Mom went to so much effort for me, but really, it could be anything tonight. I’m too numb for my taste buds to even work.
After dinner, Jasmine disappears back into her room. She has been in there all week, except for meals and work. I scrape my plate and fill a cup with ice water, preparing to do the same. I need a little alone time to process today and come up with a strategy of how on earth I’m going to cope going forward.
Dad comes to stand next to me, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Something on your mind, Dad?"
“I heard Palm Springs High has a new football coach.”
“Yes,” I answer, a little unsure how this conversation is going to go since he clearly already knows about Brandon.
“Is that going to be a problem for you?” His tone is flat, but there is so much behind his words. We never did talk about what happened back then, and I don’t want to have this conversation with him now. Not today, after already having to deal with Brandon. But my dad has this way of needing to protect me, even when it’s the last thing I want. I know his intentions are good, but last time he interfered, my life turned to shit, and truthfully, our relationship hasn’t been quite the same since.
