Defiant Princess (Boys of Oak Park Prep 2)

My hands started to shake as the four of them made their way past me, as I watched Mr. Mercer lean down and speak in a low voice into Cole’s ear, his face a stony mask. I tried to reorganize the pamphlets in front of me, tapping a stack of them against the table, but I couldn’t take my eyes off Cole and his family.

His mom kept her gaze cast down, gripping Penny’s hand tightly, and I wanted to yell at her to stand up for her son, but the petite woman looked like she’d blow over in a strong breeze. No wonder Cole was on his own.

The black-haired boy glanced over at me as he passed, and I saw a blank look in his eyes as his gaze slid over me without stopping. His dad reached up, grabbing the back of Cole’s neck in a hard grip, and I felt like I was going to barf.

I knew all of this.

Recognized every bit of it.

The restraint his dad showed because they were in public, the subtle warning of a punishment owed that would be delivered as soon as they were alone again.

Cole flinched at his father’s touch, even though I was sure he’d experienced worse—even though he was big enough that if he fought back, his dad wouldn’t have an easy time of it.

That wasn’t the point. My dad had only been two inches taller than me, and he’d been in terrible shape. But the question hadn’t been whether I could fight back, it’d been what the fallout would be if I did. Whether I could keep fighting back every day.

And I hadn’t even had siblings to worry about. Just myself.

With one more low word delivered into his son’s ear, Mr. Mercer released Cole roughly, leaving a red handprint on the back of his neck. I saw the raven-haired boy stiffen, and his steps slowed as his parents moved toward a couple in the crowd they obviously knew. Mr. Mercer held up his hands jovially, greeting them with a broad smile and a loud voice.

Lies. Lies. So many lies.

As his mom stood silently and his dad put on a show, Cole pivoted on his heel and headed for a side door in the large space. It led to a hallway that passed by the locker rooms.

Letting out a breath, I glanced down at the table in front of me, then scanned the crowd for Mr. Baldree. I didn’t see him—and fuck it, the only person who’d taken a pamphlet from me so far was Finn, and that was just as a prop for a joke. I was sure he’d thrown it away as soon as he was out of sight. Slipping out from behind the large table, I threaded my way through the sea of bodies and shoved open the same door Cole had vanished through.

I wasn’t sure how long he’d have before his dad came looking for him, or whether Mr. Mercer would come at all. Maybe he’d just count up all the minutes Cole was missing and add them to the punishment he doled out later.

My skin crawled at the thought, and I walked faster down the hallway. I passed the locker rooms but still didn’t see any sign of Cole. So I headed up the stairs to the second level.

He wasn’t in the dance studio. He was in the second-story hallway just outside of it, leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. I didn’t try to quiet my footsteps, not wanting to startle him, and his blue gaze flashed to me when I was still several yards away.

Then he looked away again, barely even acknowledging he’d seen me.

I recognized this part too.

The shame. The anger. The shutting down.

I know you! I wanted to scream at him. I know a part of you better than I wish I did.

There were so many things I wanted to say to him, but I wasn’t sure he’d listen to any of them. I wasn’t sure I would have when I’d been in his shoes.

“What?” he grunted when I got closer, a note of defensiveness in his voice.

I didn’t rise to it. I just leaned against the wall beside him, focusing on the same spot across the hall that he was staring at.

“You were there the day Adena pushed me down the steps outside Craydon, right?” I asked quietly.

His head turned, sharp blue eyes staring down at me. That hadn’t been what he’d expected me to say. “Yes. We showed up after she did it. When you were on the ground.”

Acid rose in my throat at the memory, but I focused on what I needed Cole to know, forcing down the churning in my gut. “I don’t have super clear memories of it, but I’m sure I must’ve looked like a mess. It… scared me. Gave me a panic attack.”

Even as I spoke, I could feel myself wanting to do what Cole had just done.

Shut down.

Deny.

Don’t talk about it.