In the end, my father had won, I hadn’t been suspended, and the school had been a cleaner place.
But we’d fought a lot. Until one day Bailey stopped being stubborn for protesting my dad’s idea and started treating me like the pain in the ass kid I was.
Avery looked blankly at Bailey for so long that Bailey started to shuffle his feet.
“I’m sorry,” Bailey finally said. “I would like to know who did this to you.”
There was a hesitant clearing of someone’s voice, and I turned to see a rather large, gangly teenager staring at us.
“That’s me,” the boy croaked. “It was me.”
Bailey’s eyes narrowed.
“My office. Now.” His eyes turned to Avery. “I apologize, Avery.”
The kid left, leaving the rest of us to stare at his retreating back.
“He’s only trying to stay on top of the food chain,” Avery said softly. “Sometimes you have to do unpleasant things. But saying that, if one of the nasty cheerleaders that are in Rachel’s squad order you to do something, and you don’t, that means you get no more sex. No more friendship. No more anything. And sex is pretty important to teenage boys.”
Bailey looked like he was pissed off even more, which gave me hope.
“I’m taking Avery home,” I said. “She has one more period today that she needs to be excused from.”
Bailey nodded once, but his voice had us both halting in our tracks.
“I’m sorry, Avery,” he said. “And I’ll take care of the teacher that allowed this to happen, too. Derek is correct. You should feel safe in your own school.”
He had that right.
Even more, I was going to make her feel safe if it was the last thing I did.Chapter 11I do fuck the police.
-Avery’s secret thoughts
Avery
Six weeks later
“I’m recommending you sue for loss of wages at least,” Rowen suggested. “Medical bills as well. Pain and suffering.”
I didn’t want to sue Rachel at all.
What I really wanted her to do was disappear and never come back.
“Okay.” I finally decided, knowing that there was no other way.
I needed the money.
I needed a freakin’ break, and this way was the only way.
Over the last couple of weeks, I’d had my own medical bills pop up, as well as expenses that I hadn’t realized that I was going to have, thanks to this stupid halo.
Derek had gone above and beyond and gotten me a small fortune, sixteen thousand dollars in cash, from the calendar shoot. Originally, it’d been meant for my schooling, but they’d somehow gotten it to me earlier.
I’d also gotten my father’s pension from his death until I graduated high school. The moment that I wasn’t in school anymore—i.e. college—that money would dry up, too.
Sadly, that money that I’d had from the photoshoot was now gone thanks to the expenses that I had with Rachel nearly breaking my neck. Not to mention I started physical therapy soon and that would be another added expense.
“I’m also going to be writing a formal letter to the hospital,” she continued, unaware of the hopeless thoughts swirling around in my head. “Your mother’s medical bills were huge, and I don’t feel like you should have had to pay for them when she donated her organs. I’m going to be bringing it up with them through a formal letter and seeing what they say.”
I blinked.
“Honestly, I don’t feel like you should have had to pay your father’s, either. But the police force is already working on that on their end, so I don’t feel the need to do that for you,” she continued, blowing my mind.
“What?” I asked in confusion.
She smiled.
“Derek spoke with the board about you. They’re already covering his medical bills. The hospital is going to be sending you a reimbursement check,” she continued. “It won’t help with your house since it’s already been resold, but it’ll help you with your bills. It’s not going to be a fast process, but it’s going to happen sooner or later.”
I felt like a lead weight had been lifted right off of my shoulders.
Derek.
God, the man was wonderful.
These past six weeks had been a fucking whirlwind.
I was now down to my last week and a half of school. Prom was tomorrow night—not that I was going for the dance, anyway—and graduation was next Friday.
Next. Friday.
This time next week, I would be graduating. Walking across the stage and never looking back.
“Okay.” Rowen clapped her hands and stood from my couch.
Yes, my couch.
I’d moved out of Derek’s home into my own right across the street, and right next to Rowen and Dax, last week.
Honestly, at first, I’d told Derek I was moving out because I wanted him to ask me to stay. To do something other than hug or kiss me.
But when I’d said I was moving back to my own place—that I didn’t need him taking care of me twenty-four seven anymore—he’d allowed me to go.