Pretty When She Cries - Black Mountain Academy

Phillip is quiet on the other end of the line. He’s not the type to say he told me so, but from the beginning, he warned me this story would come back to bite me in the ass. He begged me many times to let my lawyer track Kail down again. Have her sign an NDA, threaten to sue her, whatever it took to keep her from going to the media. I told them no because even then, I was still trying to protect her. And for what?

The faces of my classmates’ blur as I look around the parking lot of Black Mountain Academy. They are all vacant and unfamiliar. People I’ve seen a thousand times, but don’t really know. They don’t know me either. Nobody does. And I don’t want to be here anymore. I don’t know if I ever want to come back here again.

“I’m leaving,” I tell Phillip.

“I already sent a car for you,” he assures me. “It’s waiting at your house. There’s security there too, just in case. I had your housekeeper pack you a bag…”

The rest of his instructions fade to background noise, and I disconnect the call as I meet Carson’s gaze outside the window. He’s waiting for me to get out. When he sees the expression on my face, concern washes over his. I shift the car into gear and speed away, leaving him without an explanation. He starts calling me as soon as I round the corner, and I send it straight to voicemail. That doesn’t stop him from texting me, though.

Carson: I need to talk to you. It’s important.Carson: Landon, come on.Carson: What the fuck, bro? You’re really just going to leave like that?Carson: I saw the articles. There’s something you need to know.I toss the phone out the window, watching it bounce off the pavement as I leave it behind in my rearview mirror. Fuck this town. Fuck high school. Fuck everything.

My foot jams on the throttle, and the speedometer climbs. Seventy. Eighty. Ninety. My vision blurs, and a memory forces its way into my consciousness. The steering wheel vibrates. The engine rumbles. The winding lines on an empty mountain road sway back and forth. Cool air blows in from the window, and I wave my hand through it like I did when I was a kid. This was supposed to be my fresh start. A new life. And then I met Kailani fucking Hale.

I close my eyes and forget to open them again. The tire catches gravel, and the steering wheel jerks to the right. I’m free-falling. Spinning around and around on a Tilt-A-Whirl as metal crunches around me. Shattered glass peppers my face and body as I welcome death. Nobody will miss me here. I look for the light, or whatever the fuck it is that’s supposed to happen. But who am I kidding? Everyone knows I’m going to hell.

The car comes to a stop with a final aching groan. Blood drips down my temple, and my hope for a peaceful exit is destroyed by blinding pain. I reach up to wipe my face off, but my arm dangles like it’s been split in two. When I look at it, I realize it’s bad. It looks as though it’s been put through a meat grinder.

Fucking hell. Why couldn’t I have just died?

A car horn blares, jarring me back to the present. Sweat beads on my forehead, and I realize I’m at a stoplight. I don’t even know how I got here. Everything feels distorted, and for a second, I think maybe this morning was all a dream. But it’s never a dream. This is the only reality I know.

The rest of the drive to my house is heavy with silence. Around me, other cars weave through the traffic. Lights change colors, and the sun beats in through the window. Yet everything feels dull and gray. The world is barren, like my soul.

When I arrive, I’m swept up into a blur of meaningless motions. Security ushers me in through the gates, holding the paparazzi at bay. They hurry me off to a waiting car with tinted windows. My bags are inside, just as Phillip said they would be. I’m almost in when I hear the commotion at my front door. When I glance up, Suzy is there, waving her arms frantically as she tries to fight off the security guard holding her back. I pinch the bridge of my nose and try not to lose my shit. But do I care anymore? Do I give a fuck what Suzy or anyone has to say to me?

“I need to talk to you, Landon!” she bellows. “I promise you’ll regret it if you don’t.”

Money. That’s what it always comes down to with her. She could bleed me dry, and it still wouldn’t be enough.