Текст книги "Naked"

Автор книги: Stacey Trombley

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

We stay after school to work on props again, and we actually start getting some things done. We’ve gathered a huge amount of white Christmas lights, so all we have to do is hang them the night of the dance. Mr. Harkins took our theme and ran with it, buying little fold-up cardboard Eiffel Towers for the tables in the lunchroom and the punch table, and even some of those fake candles to put all over the place.

All that’s left now are the two big signs. One that just says Welcome to the City of Light, which Jen and Alex are working on together, and one huge picture of the Eiffel Tower, which Jackson and I are doing together.

He got the theater director to let him use one of those huge plywood pieces they use for sets. It’s already been used, but we’re going to do the tower on the other side. It’ll be like fifteen feet high and hopefully look amazing! Jackson found a cool picture for us to copy, and we’ll use a projector to flash the picture full-size onto the mural board for us to copy. It’s still kind of hard, but not as much as I would have thought.

Alex and Jen head home early, leaving Jackson and me alone to work on our masterpiece. We get the outline of the tower completely sketched before we call it a night.

We’ve been here so long that now the school is completely empty, which should put me at ease, but something doesn’t feel right. Our shoes squeak on the tiles and echo off the walls.

“This is cool, isn’t it?” Jackson says.

“What? The creepy empty school that can only be out of a horror movie?”

“You’re scared? I didn’t think you were scared of anything.”

I smile. “Oh, I’m scared of plenty.”

“Coulda fooled me.”

“What about you? What are you scared of?”

He blinks, more serious than I expected. “You.”

“Me?” I whisper.

He nods. “Stupid, right? You terrify me because…I like you. A lot. It’s the first time I’ve felt like this since Liz.”

My lips twitch, but I don’t smile, because there’s too much bitter in this sweet. I look to the ground. He has more reason to fear me than he realizes. Maybe I’m better off leaving Jackson alone. The closer we get, the more I’m going to hurt him, eventually.

When I don’t say anything else, Jackson picks up his phone and calls his dad for a ride, and we wait in silence.

The sun is already starting to set, we stayed here so long. Thinking back, maybe that wasn’t such a good idea.

It’s so quiet in the school. So quiet I feel like Jackson can hear my heart beating.

“I have to use the bathroom,” I say. Not because it’s true, but because I need a moment alone to pull myself together.

The hallway is, of course, empty as I walk down it. Except this silence feels thick. I find myself checking around every corner. I won’t actually go to the bathroom. Just a few seconds out here will help.

Then a sound down the hall catches my attention, and I slowly turn to see a figure watching me. A broad-shouldered silhouette, just standing there.

My blood runs cold.

It’s probably just a teacher, right? No reason to freak out.

So why is my heart pounding like it’s ready to explode?

Instincts. Never ignore your instincts. My heart pounds faster, louder. My head buzzing.

The man steps forward, and the second I recognize him, I freeze.

Not him.

It can’t be.

I saw him here once before. I convinced myself he was just the janitor. But now I see the truth. I should have known I was right all along.

His eyes are bloodshot, just the way I remember. Does his breath smell the same? A mix of something rotting and cigarettes? I want to throw up. But most of all, I want to—have to—run.

“Hey there, Exquisite.” He slurs my name the same way I remember.

This cannot be happening. Not now. Not like this, not with Jackson so close by.

How the hell did he find me?

But then I see his janitor’s uniform, and all of the pieces fall together. The notes. How whoever left them knew my name. And how he can be here.

He didn’t find me. He works here. Maybe always worked here.

Westchester isn’t that far from New York. Does he still go there on the weekends?

He always had a bizarre obsession with me and how young I looked. So of course he works in a high school, where he can get an eyeful before he goes to New York to take care of business without getting caught.

After he got rough with me, Luis said he was blacklisted from ever being with me again. So what if he paid for three sessions up front?

I thought that was the end of it.

My mind flashes back to when I passed out in the hallway and thought how much the janitor reminded me of this man.

I thought I was just being paranoid.

But he’s here. In the high school.

I’m shaking now. I have to get rid of him, and fast. If Jackson comes out here and sees him…

“Hi, John,” I say, hoping my voice doesn’t sound as shaky as it feels.

“I always knew I’d see you again, Exquisite.”

“That’s not my name and you know it,” I say, but this just makes me feel more like my old self. The old Anna—no, Exquisite—who would crawl into a car with this man. Who hated herself for every second she spent there.

He grins. “That’ll always be your name. I know it. You know it.”

Holy shit does this guy churn my stomach, and the sad thing is that he’s exactly as I remember him. How in the hell did I get into a car with him…let alone what came after?

“Whatever,” I say. “Leave me alone or I’ll tell everyone about you.”

He chuckles, like he sees right through my bluff. “How are you going to do that without telling everyone about yourself?”

“They already know.”

“Not everyone.” He points to the room I came from. The room where Jackson’s waiting for me.

“How do you know?”

“Let me spell it out for you,” he says. “You think he’d spend a second around you if he knew the truth? If he knew the things you’ve done?” He shakes his head. “I’m the only one who knows who you really are. I’m the only one who sees what you’re like inside.” He takes a step forward and raises his hands to embrace me, like I’m some old girlfriend he’s happy to see, but I step back and cross my arms. He frowns. “I’m the only one who loves you for the truth.”

“Don’t touch me,” I spit.

“Now, now, my Exquisite. You don’t need that boy,” he says. “You’re better off without him. He can’t love you for what you are.”

“That just means he’s too good for me,” I whisper.

The john stands and places his hands behind him, like he’s my principal ready to hand down some punishment. “Think what you want to think. Now, you and I have something to discuss.”

I’ve dealt with guys like this for years. So I stop. I take in deep breaths until I’m calm enough to channel the old me. The hardened me. The me who was strong enough to deal with assholes like this.

I back away from him. “No, we don’t.”

“You and me have a debt to settle,” the janitor says.

Of course we do. I’m just merchandise, and he prepaid.

But nothing in the world could make me crawl into a car with him again. He will get nothing from me.

I came home willing to pretend to be someone I’m not. But now I don’t want to pretend. I want to be that new person. I want to leave dirty, tarnished Anna back in New York. And now he wants to turn me back into her.

A police car’s siren blares briefly, Jackson’s father letting us know he’s outside to pick us up.

“That’s Jackson’s father,” I say.

The janitor stops, rubs his chin, and looks to the exit. “Maybe I’ll say hello. I’m just the janitor.”

“I’ll tell him everything.”

I pray he doesn’t hear a single tremor in my voice. He can’t think I’m bluffing. If Jackson’s father knows, then Jackson will know. And I’ll do anything to protect him from the truth.

The janitor frowns. “This isn’t over.” And he backs away, then disappears down the hallway as Jackson comes out of the room.

“Hey, did you hear the siren?” Jackson says.

I’m not looking at him. I’m still watching the shadows. Watching to see if the janitor is really gone.

This isn’t over.

“We should hurry,” I say. “Your dad’s waiting.”

He must hear something in my voice. He puts a hand on my shoulder. “You look freaked. You okay?”

“I’m just tired. Let’s get my stuff.”

He looks at me for a second. “If something’s wrong, you can tell me.” He hesitates, and that’s all I need to know how much his next words mean to him. “Please tell me.”

I know what he’s thinking about. His mom. The lies she told him.

All the more reason he can’t know about my lies. It would destroy him. But how can I just say nothing? He knows something is wrong. And there is something wrong.

Maybe I need to tell someone. I need someone on my side. Is there a better option than Jackson?

There’s my dad. But I can’t tell him. If he knew what kind of terror I brought back with me from New York…

I’m doing well enough to convince him all of that’s behind me.

Besides, he’d just blame me. Oh, a man once raped me? My fault for being a hooker. Oh, he wants to rape me again? I shouldn’t have slept with him the first time.

I could tell my mom, but it would shatter her. The day we went shopping was one of the best days of my life. It’s the first time in I don’t know how long that she looked happy.

I can’t take that away from her.

I could call Sarah, but that wouldn’t help, either. She’d have to tell my parents.

Everything we’ve worked toward will be for nothing if they learn that my past isn’t really behind me. That I’m not normal and never will be.

I’m not their little Anna. I’m still the hooker that girl became, and there isn’t anything I can do to change that.

Red and blue lights flash again. Jackson’s dad is waiting for us to come out, but Jackson is still waiting for an answer.

I think about my time in New York, my time with the police there. I’ve always been so good at letting half truths work to my advantage. It’s a way to let Jackson help me without telling him the things that would just hurt him.

I swallow. “Umm, the janitor kind of freaks me out.”

Jackson frowns and looks behind me. The hall is empty now. “He was here? Did he bother you?”

I shake my head. “No. No, he…he’s been harassing Jen after school. That’s why she won’t stay, and today he was just here calling me beautiful and stuff. It’s just creepy.”

Jackson’s eyes grow larger. “Where is he now?”

“Gone. He left when he heard the siren. You don’t need to do anything, though. I mean, I’m sure it’s nothing…”

“I have to tell my dad. He can do something about it—”

I grab his arm before he can run out the door. I know what happens if you talk to the cops, and I’m not about to make an exception for Jackson’s dad. Even when they try to help, they just make things worse.

“No, please. Jackson. He’s just a creep.”

He looks at me, looks at the door, then back at me. “Are you sure?”

I squeeze his hand. “I’m fine. Promise me you won’t say anything to your dad.”

He takes a deep breath and clenches his jaw. I kind of like him being this way. Angry for my sake. Protective.

“Okay,” he says. “I’m glad you told me, though. That means a lot.”

I shrug. Unsure what else to say. It was a half truth, not exactly anything to be proud of.

Jackson leans in close, and his breath brushes my ear. “Are you okay?”

I nod and lean into him as he puts his arms around me.

I want to believe this is enough.

The janitor showed himself, but I got rid him of, and that’s enough.

Jackson knows some of the truth, and that’s enough.

So why can’t I stop shivering?

Chapter Twenty-Nine

The next morning, I stop at the front doors into the school. A sudden blistering headache pounds on my temples.

I shake my head and remind myself who I am. I’m just Anna. The girl pretending to be normal and so far doing an okay job.

My stomach twists.

The girl who actually has a few friends, as odd as they are. The girl who Jackson Griffin actually likes.

Why couldn’t the janitor have shown himself when I first came home? It’s so much worse now that I have something to lose.

I release a breath, and the tension in my stomach releases a little. My relationship with Jackson might be a time bomb waiting to explode, but I have it for now, so I might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

Jackson’s not on the bus. What the hell? Where could he be? Maybe he got a ride from his dad, but it’s not like him to skip the bus. Not since we’ve been riding together.

I walk inside school and find him sitting on the bench reading something from his phone. I pull on one of my carefully crafted masks so he doesn’t see how tense I am this morning, then kick one of his feet to get his attention.

He looks up suddenly. “Hey!” he says, his eyes bright with excitement.

My fake smile slips into a real one.

“What are you doing in the lobby?” I ask.

“Waiting for you, duh.”

“Oh,” I say stupidly.

He stands, grabs my hand, and pulls me down the hall. “Come on,” he says.

“What’s going on?”

“I took care of the janitor.”

I freeze in my tracks. “You did what?”

He stops and turns around to face me. “Don’t worry. I didn’t tell my dad. I didn’t tell anyone.”

“Okay… Then what did you do?”

“I came in early this morning and found him. I told him if he ever comes near you again, I’ll make sure he’s fired. Or worse. I mean, that’s kind of creepy that he’s looking at high school girls. If he ever tried anything, he’d go to jail.”

“Great,” I say with a low voice.

Jackson doesn’t seem bothered by my lack of enthusiasm, though. “That’s good, right?” he asks.

I nod.

Maybe.

Maybe it is good. Jackson’s on my side, and now the janitor knows he is. Maybe it’ll be like when my dad tells my mom she’d “better do what’s good for her.” He doesn’t always have to do anything. Just the threat is enough to make her hesitate.

So maybe the janitor will give up now. Cancel the debt.

Or maybe he’ll take this as an act of war.

I avoid going to my locker all morning, just carrying my backpack around school. The heavy weight on my back is a reminder of what I’m avoiding, but I’m doing a pretty damn good job of ignoring it.

What am I ignoring? Whatever might be in my locker. Those notes have been the janitor’s weapon of choice, and I’m terrified of what I’ll find when I finally have the guts to open my locker today.

When I join Alex at a lunch table, she smirks.

“So why do you still have your backpack, again?” she asks.

I shrug and take a bite of terrible mashed potatoes.

Jackson plops down with his usual excitement. A tater tot bounces out of his tray and flies into the middle of the table.

“Nice,” I say.

He gives me a quick wink, and I find my cheeks turning red. Damn that effect he has on me.

Alex takes a bite of her sandwich “You know Mr. Dalton won’t let you take your backpack into his class, right?”

“What?” I ask, sincerely upset.

“It’s against school rules. Most teachers don’t care, but he can be kind of a dick about that stuff.”

“Great,” I mumble, stirring my mashed potatoes around with the stupid plastic fork.

“Why? What’s the problem? Forget your locker combination?” Alex asks.

I shake my head. “No, I’m just being lazy.”

“Lazy?” Jackson asks. “That thing must weigh like twenty pounds.”

“It’s not that bad.”

He shrugs.

I don’t know if the janitor’s left a note, but what am I going to do? Never open my locker again?

I end up just standing in front of the stupid locker, staring at it like a complete idiot. Finally, when the hall all but clears and I know I’m probably going to be late if I don’t do this now, I spin the dial.

It clicks to tell me it’s unlocked, and I pause again, then slowly open it.

My stomach drops.

The locker is empty.

Okay, not completely empty. It has my other schoolbooks and supplies and stuff. But there’s no note.

Holy crap.

Is it really possible Jackson intimidated the janitor into leaving me alone?

The bell rings and I jump.

Well, so much for not getting into trouble.

I feel nauseous the rest of the day. I should feel calm. Excited. Hopeful. But this seems too good to be true.

The only thing that calms me down is seeing the smile of Jackson’s face when he boards the bus and sees me. His whole face lights up like I’m the best thing he’s seen all day.

God, how I don’t want to lose this feeling.

My hands still shake a little as he sits next to me, and I grab his hand to steal a little of his confidence. We sit there, and his eyes glisten just a little. He squeezes my hand tighter. Is he afraid of letting go, too?

“Your hands are clammy. You okay?” he asks me.

I blink, but then nod. “I’m great.”

For now.

Chapter Thirty

My mother doesn’t stop me from bringing Zara into my room that night, which is good, because I’m not sure what I would do without her.

She tells me to be careful not to let my dad find out. Right now, I’m her daughter, and she wants to be there for me. It should be a good feeling, but all it does is remind me why I can’t open up to her. Not really.

I sit up and read through my old journals while Zara sprawls out on my bed. I don’t know what I’m looking for, but I look anyway.

All I find are old pains, memories that leave me feeling even more numb. The beginning of the spiral that brought me here.

What I find the most surprising is that this—this—is my rock-bottom moment. That day that Luis left me in the street, beaten and broken, that wasn’t the worst day of my life—not anymore. Right here, right now. Knowing my past could come back at any moment to slap me in the face and undo everything coming home accomplished.

Jackson stood up for me. The janitor didn’t leave a note. I didn’t even see him today.

Please let that be the end of it…

I finally lie down next to Zara. She was very happy to have the bed all to herself, but she knows it’s me. I guess she loves me. Because yeah, she grunts and huffs as I crawl over her and curl up in the few inches left open next to the wall, but when I stop moving, she shifts closer to me, maybe sensing I need her touch. Next to her, I feel safe. Comfortable.

When I close my burning eyes and channel the things that bring me the most comfort, it’s not Luis I think of. It’s fireflies and stage lights and honeysuckles.

The vibrations of Zara growling startles me awake. I jump up, heart pounding, and hear something tapping on the window. Zara doesn’t move. The hair on her neck doesn’t stand up. She just watches.

I take tiny steps toward the window and peek through the curtain.

I see hazel eyes and thick-rimmed yet sexy glasses. My shoulders relax, and I slide open the window.

Jackson stands there just inches away from me. I’m relieved for an instant, until I see the look on his face. Something’s wrong.

My world crashes. What happened?

“Hey, want to go for a walk?” he whispers. “I couldn’t sleep.”

I swallow down my fear. “Um, I probably shouldn’t tonight.” I don’t explain why, but I’m kind of scared to be out in the dark, even with Jackson. “What’s wrong?” I ask, my tension relieved just a little bit. If he wants to talk, it’s probably not what I think it is.

He shakes his head. “They just make me so mad. The things everyone says about you. It’s not fair. If they just got to know you…”

If he only knew what he was saying. It’s ironic that the people who don’t know me at all are closer to the truth than Jackson.

“Who? People at school?”

He nods.

“People say a lot of stupid things.” I shrug. “No point in getting upset.”

I almost laugh at myself. Jackson’s usually the one so calm about stuff. It’s always me who’s freaking out. What happened now that’s got him upset?

“But now they’re crossing the line,” he says. “Do you know someone put a note in my locker today about you?”

My heart stops. “What?” If someone dumped a bucket of cold water on me right now, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t notice. The hair on my arms stands up, and my stomach drops to my feet.

I realize what happened.

The janitor didn’t leave a note in my locker.

But that doesn’t mean he didn’t leave a note somewhere else.

Oh shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Jackson groans. “I probably shouldn’t tell you. It’s so stupid. Don’t worry, I threw the note away.”

I’m afraid to ask, but I have to know. “What did it say?”

“Anna—”

“Jackson. Tell me what it said.”

He shakes his head. “It said, ‘Your girlfriend’s a hooker. Get the best price by calling her by her real name.’ And then it gave some weird name.”

I swallow. “Exquisite?”

He nods. “Yeah, that’s…” Then seems to realize what I just said. “How’d you know?”

“It’s an old joke…” I improvise. “Bullies in middle school used to call me that. It was the name of a hooker in some movie…”

His fists squeeze together. “It makes me so mad that people do that stuff! It’s not fair.”

“Shhh,” I say, looking behind me to my shut bedroom door, hoping my dad hasn’t heard. That’s one more thing I don’t need right now.

“Sorry,” he whispers, and then he lets out a long breath.

I wish I could let him in. I wish we could cuddle up on my bed and fall asleep together. But it’s not worth the risk of my dad finding out, and I’m not actually sure Jackson would say yes.

“I know you have a past, Anna, but seriously, prostitution? Did they think up the most horrible possible thing they could think of and say, ‘Yeah, that’s what we should call her!’”

“Prostitution isn’t the worst thing, is it?” I ask. My blood drains further from my face. I’m not sure I can stay standing much longer.

“Can you think of anything worse? It’s disgusting!”

I clench my jaw like I’m angry, but I’m not. He’s right. It is disgusting. I’m disgusting.

I can’t breathe. He might as well have slapped me in the face. I kind of wish he had. It would sting less.

Jackson might not believe the truth that’s sitting right in front of him, but he just gave me proof that all my fears are completely legit.

If he learns the truth, if he gets the proof that’s now being hung over my head—he’ll hate me. He’ll think I’m disgusting.

I can’t keep doing this. The lies. The deception. It’s all going to fall apart. No, worse. It’s already starting to crumble.

This is my future, I remind myself. I always knew Jackson was temporary.

“You should go, Jackson,” I say.

“Oh… All right. Are you okay?”

Just one day earlier, his question would have made me feel warm and safe. Except now, his concern just makes me sick. When he learns the truth, will he care about me at all?

“Yeah. Fine,” I say, but then I stop. It’s not enough for me to know this was temporary. He has to know, too. If he sticks around…

He cocks his head and frowns. “What is it?”

This situation is only going to get worse the longer I string him along. As long as I have something precious, someone else can take it away.

“I just think…this is becoming too serious for me.”

“What?”

“I still want to be friends.” I wince. “But I just think we need to cool it and go our separate ways for a while.”

“Cool it,” he repeats. His eyes dart back and forth, like he’s struggling to process what I said.

“Yeah.” Careful to control my voice and not let him hear how much it hurts me to tell him. “I know it’s short notice about the dance—”

“The dance?” he asks, like the implication hadn’t occurred to him. Like he’s now starting to get how far I intend to pull back.

I wish I could tell him why, but it’s better this way. Safer. For him. For me. For everyone.

“Listen, it’s late,” I say. “You should go.”

“Sure.” His voice sounds like it’s coming from very far away.

“Thanks,” I say, throat thick, and then I drop the window before he even walks away.

I close the window and curl up next to Zara again and think about the last few weeks as more and more tears fall. Such a short amount of time for someone to break through my walls, to make himself a part of who I am.

I’m still the same, really. Still dirty and scarred and broken. Still lost. But Jackson changed things. He changed the way I see things.

He has the strongest hope I’ve ever seen in someone. But he’s not naive, not stupid. His life isn’t so perfect. Maybe he’s never been beaten and raped and hated the way I have. He’s never had to lie to survive. But he’s seen horrors in his own right, and somehow he finds a way to see the best in people. He still believes.

I can’t destroy that hope in him. That’s what would happen if he knew the truth.

As much as I want him—as much as I need him—I won’t see him get hurt because of me.