The Line That Binds (22 page)

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Authors: J.M. Miller

Tags: #Contemporary

BOOK: The Line That Binds
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Ms. Mitchell stared at me when I didn’t respond, searching my face for a reaction. There was a reason she fed me this information. She hadn’t found any evidence to haul me away like previous students; I was perfectly sober. But she was making sure I knew the consequences nonetheless. If she’d been around earlier today, she could’ve started a case. Even sober, my mind had scared the crap out of me. Hearing voices was not normal. But maybe she was right. Maybe it was all stress.

“It’s certainly a shame for kids to waste their life. Sometimes, there are no second chances,” she concluded after I didn’t respond. “We’ll call your father again so we can inform him of what happened. You can always try to call him yourself now, if you want to go home. Otherwise, feel free to rest in here a while.”

“Thanks. I think I’m okay.”

“That’s fine. Take the Gatorade with you,” she said as she wrote something on a note pad. “I should’ve had Sebastian and Izzy get you something to eat before they left. If you do feel okay, I want you to take this note to the cafeteria for a free sandwich. Then when you’re finished eating, take the note to your next class.”

“Okay,” I agreed. My stomach felt too empty to deny her request. “Thanks, Ms. Mitchell.”

“Not a problem, Lila. I hope I don’t see back in here too soon.”

“LJ is fine. And I hope not either.”

 

 

By the time the last bell rang, my head was pounding my thoughts into oblivion again. Eating food helped, and I was grateful for Ms. Mitchell’s advice, but my head was right back where it started its torture this morning. I hustled to my locker then exited the building before most other students. I stopped to sit on the curb at the far end of the sidewalk, under the “pickup zone” sign, as others filed out behind me to their cars, buses, and bikes. I didn’t care what Ms. Mitchell said; if these headaches continued, I would bring my own meds to school. Otherwise, I’d have to make a daily visit to her office and she’d certainly call the cops before the week was through.

To stop the ringing, I squeezed my head between my hands and leaned my elbows on my knees. I scanned the cars for Dad’s Escape, ready to escape this day.

“I wish I were brave enough to tell her,”
a guy’s voice whispered as light as a breeze. I glanced around for anyone beside me. There were plenty of people hurrying through the parking lot and around the buses, but no one in range. Then I noticed one guy in no rush to exit school grounds. He leaned against the trunk of his teal sedan, eyes fixed on the next row of cars. I looked in the direction of his stare and noticed a guy and girl kissing beside a truck. She glanced back at Stalker Guy before jumping into the truck cab and driving off. The stalker left a few seconds later, eyes unfocused and wet.

I crossed my arms over my knees and laid my head on them. The pain was the only thing I could concentrate on as the minutes passed. After a while, the noise disappeared and the intensity of my headache died down. When I looked up again, the lot was practically empty. Only a few vacant cars remained.

No Escape. No Dad.

The tears fell without warning, gliding down my cheeks uncontrollably. I tucked my face in my arms again, hiding my sorrow from the empty lot. I saw this coming. I could’ve predicted the entire situation because Dad usually forgot things that didn’t involve work. Granted, he’d never forgotten me at school, but he’d never actually taken me to school either. That’s why this situation was inevitable. It was just plain sad it happened so fast.

The sound of a motorcycle engine ripped through the quiet school grounds. I watched the black bike roll to the curb between me and the main entrance. After killing the engine, the rider swung his leg over the bike and removed his helmet.
Ben.
He stared at me for a moment. Shame kept me quiet, knowing that this was yet another time he’d witness my pathetic misery.

“LJ?” he said after setting his helmet on the seat.

“Yeah.” My voice cracked.

He walked toward me, tucking a set of gloves into his jacket pocket. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same. Where’ve you been all day?”

“I had jaw stuff, but I forgot today was the deadline to turn in my guardian-signed syllabus for Mrs. Conya’s chem class.” His lips tuned down when he got closer. “What happened to you?”

“It’s not a good day.” I chuckled miserably. “The latest? My dad is back to work, which means he’s forgotten that he has kids again. I suppose I asked for it, though; I’m the one who wished for it to happen, right? Maybe there is something about that well after all.”

Ben smoothed a hand along the side of his head, spreading his fingers through his tousled ripples of hair. “He was supposed to come get you?”

“Yeah.” I nodded.

“Did you call him?”

“Should I have to?” I asked irritably.

Ben shook his head while he pulled off his backpack and unzipped his riding jacket. “I’ve got to grab some stuff inside. I’ll be right back.”

“I’m sure I’ll be right here when you come out,” I said with an annoyed smirk. My sadness was withering and anger was growing in its place.

He returned a few minutes later with his backpack and jacket in hand. His dark eyes stared at me and his smile quirked to one side mischievously.

“What?” I asked, confused by his devious stare.

His eyes darted behind me for a second then settled back on me. “So … Do you tweet? I promise to hashtag you all night.”

“What?” I asked, stunned by his words.
Did I miss something?

“Okay, you’re right. That one was pretty lame. How about this? I’m gonna have to ask you to stop hurting those jeans because they’re
screaming
for me to take ‘em off,” he said with a wink.

“Ben!” I squealed. My face was red hot. “What the hell?”

He laughed and pointed behind my head at the sign. “Pickup zone,” he said. “I couldn’t pass that up.”

“Oh, God!” I stood up and smacked his arm. “Please don’t tell me you’ve ever used those. No, really. I don’t want to know if anyone’s stupid enough to fall for that sleazy crap.”

“Sleazy? It’s funny. You’re laughing, aren’t you?” he asked as his own laughs subsided.

“Yes, sleazy! It was so sleazy, I think I caught something. Besides, laughing about them and falling for them are completely different.”

“Oh, really? Maybe laughing is the new falling.”

“Whatever you say, but I find it hard to believe any girl would hook up with a guy after he spewed those lines.”

“Well, I know one time it will end in a ride home.” He held his jacket out to me. “Put this on. You’re riding with me.”

“I don’t know …”

“What’s the matter?” he said and pushed the jacket into my arms. “Didn’t one of the douches have a bike?”

I pressed my lips together and smirked, watching him put his gloves back on. “No, none of the douches had bikes,” I replied.

“I’m sorry I don’t have a smaller jacket for you. I wasn’t exactly expecting to pick you up.” He laughed at his own pun as he took the jacket back and held it open for me.

I giggled nervously and slid my arms into the big sleeves. He turned me around to adjust the jacket, and, while he focused on the position of the material, I watched him. His brown eyes were tranquil, not as intense as they usually were. The scruff on his face was gone, and it left his jawline so smooth I was tempted to touch.

He tugged the zipper up and his eyes followed until he was staring into mine. “This should do,” he said, before grabbing the helmet and squishing it onto my head.

“What are you going to wear?”

His hands reached under my chin and fastened the buckle. “I’ll be fine.”

“Really? I bet that’s what you said before you broke your jaw, too.”

“Funny. Yeah, I probably did. Do you want to wait for your dad instead?”

“Not really,” I admitted. He was right: there was no sense in waiting. We’d be here all night, but that fact didn’t settle the butterflies panging around my belly. “You’ve ridden with another person before, right? I mean, I won’t cause you to have an accident, will I?”

“It’s been a while, but I’ve had other … passengers on my bike before, yes,” he replied seriously.

“I’m guessing your pickup lines have had something to do with the break.”

He let out a breathy laugh as he pulled his book bag on backwards, settling the sling strap across his back. “Something like that.”

I pulled mine on the usual way over the jacket. “Why are you wearing it like that?”

“You won’t be able to hold on good enough with it between us.” He cinched the straps on my bag tighter. “Instruction time. All you have to do is hold on tight and follow me. Your instinct might be to lean the opposite direction, but it’s really important that you go where I go or we won’t be able to turn. And keep your feet on the pegs.”

I stared through the helmet at him and nodded. “Okay. I’m not going to lie, I’m a little nervous.”

“Don’t be,” he said with a smile as he got on the bike. “I’ve got you.”

He helped me climb on behind him. I stared at the back muscles under his T-shirt, wondering how closely I was supposed to hold. Tentatively, I wrapped my arms around him, unsure where to place my hands. Then his hands grabbed mine, shooting more delightful waves of nervousness to the pit of my stomach. He pulled my arms until they crossed over his abs, making sure I was hugging him fully. Heat numbed my entire body as I folded myself around him.

I felt giddy and anxious, and that took my mind off the headache. I wasn’t stressing out about school. I didn’t care about Dad. The thrill of being on a bike with Ben made me forget the pain.

I couldn’t think.

He had me.

 

 

 

“You ready?” I called over my shoulder.

“Yeah.” LJ’s voice was muffled by the helmet jammed into my back.

I started the bike then tried my best to concentrate on the road and not the way her body felt against mine. It was challenging. It’d been a while since I had anyone on my bike so maneuvering was an adjustment. LJ made it an easy, though. She glued herself to me.

I started slow for her, rolling on the throttle smoothly for takeoffs and easing up way before stops. When town streets and cracked sidewalks morphed into back roads and cornfields, I was satisfied enough with her passenger skills to let out the throttle and lean farther into the turns. Curves were the best part of riding and I wanted her to feel them. As trees blurred around us and we rocked from turn to turn, her arms held me tighter. A few miles from Stockton Estate, I slowed, not wanting the ride to end. Her grip relaxed a bit, telling me she was comfortable.

She trusted me.

We rolled onto the estate’s road and I stopped in the parking area beside her house. Her hands loosened when I set my feet on the ground, but they didn’t move from my chest.

“Are you okay back there?”

“Yes,” she replied calmly.

I slid my hands over hers and slowly peeled them from my body. As much as I’d like them to stay there, we had to get to work soon. Simone would flip if she found out we were both late. I twisted in my seat and grabbed LJ’s hand again to help her off the bike. “So?” I asked when she removed the helmet.

“That was amazing,” she replied with a smile so sexy it rivaled any I’d ever seen. Her gorgeous eyes popped as she ran her fingers through her hair.

“Really?” I laughed. “I thought you’d want to maim me after a couple of those turns.”

“No way! I loved the turns. It was thrilling and terrifying, like a rollercoaster, without the lap-crushing protection. I felt safe though, even when the speed made me a little nervous,” she said, her smile dissolving a little. “I’ve seen you ride out back, and I knew you were good, but you’re far better than I thought.”

“Words every guy wants to hear,” I said with another laugh as I leaned the bike on its stand. She hit my arm with the helmet playfully. I mocked an injury to play along then took it from her to set on the seat. “I like riding trails because they’re more challenging, but the feeling of a curvy road is hard to beat.”

“I can see why,” she said, handing me my jacket. “What are we doing on the grounds today?”

I pulled my jacket on loosely then my backpack. “We might start the bulb planting for next spring,” I replied just as LJ’s dad drove up to the house.

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