Toxic Bad Boy (26 page)

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Authors: April Brookshire

Tags: #high school criminal young adult ballet love romantic suspense

BOOK: Toxic Bad Boy
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I wasn’t happy with the
paintings being up at all after I’d changed my mind about including
them in the show, but if Jim sold them I’d be rid of them forever.
“Fine,” I said, irritated and wanting away from Norah and her soft
looks. There was no intimacy between us and I wouldn’t be accused
of leading her on again.

She stopped me with a hand
on my arm again. “Caleb, we can still be friends,
right?”

Turning back to her, I
shook her arm off to make my stance clear. “I wouldn’t do that to
my girlfriend.”

The doors were unlocked at
seven o’clock and people began steadily streaming in. I was told by
my mom, who acted as my agent, that mine and Sydney’s paintings
were moderately priced. I’d heard my mom brag on the phone to one
of her artsy friends that my work was as good as Sydney’s even
though she’d been to art school. Her enthusiasm was
embarrassing.

My dad and Julie were
among the first arrivals. I’d warned my mom ahead of time so she
wouldn’t be blindsided. My mom hadn’t been serious with anyone
since the divorce years ago and I wondered if it hurt to have my
dad’s happiness rubbed in her face. Julie would be polite tonight
whether she meant it or not.

Even I had to admit Julie
looked good. My dad beamed, obviously thrilled at the
reconciliation. I spotted my mom pursing her lips as they entered
and promptly turning her back on them.

The grownups could work
things out amongst themselves.

Gianna and her dad showed
up twenty minutes into the show. She’d worn the dress and as a
bonus her lips were painted a matching red. Later tonight that
lipstick would be smeared.


I’m really nervous for
you,” she whispered as I grabbed her hand and led her to get
something to drink.

Her dad had wandered off
to look at the paintings. Each work had a little metal rectangle
underneath with the painting’s and artist’s names engraved. It was
strange to see my name like that.

Handing her a glass of
water, I said, “Don’t be nervous, I’m not.”

She nodded, taking a sip.
“Okay.”

From across the room, I
saw Norah staring at us with barely veiled jealousy. The emotion
was easy to recognize, having felt it so strongly for the two weeks
I’d thought Gianna was with Gage. Heading in the opposite
direction, I showed Gianna Sydney’s work and some of mine she
hadn’t seen.

My mom came over to give
Gianna a hug. “How are you, sweetie?”


I’m good and how are
you?” she asked my mom.

My mom gestured around.
“Incredibly proud of my son at the moment.”

It was good to hear. I
hadn’t made my mom proud very often over the past few years. “Me
too,” Gianna agreed.


Tell Caleb to bring you
with him next time he comes over for dinner.”


Okay,” Gianna said,
grinning at me.


I have to go check with
Debra about something.” My mom squeezed my girlfriend’s hand. “I’ll
see you later.”

Gianna turned a sweet
smile on me. “I think she’s your second biggest fan.”

Pulling her closer, I
looked down at her. “And who’s my number one fan?”


My mom?” she joked,
unable to hold a straight face.


I’m bored. Want to go
make out it Jim’s office?”

She tilted her head as if
mulling the idea over. “Won’t people wonder where you
are?”

As if on cue, I heard Jim
call my name. “Caleb!” He approached with a smaller middle-aged
man. “Meet Thomas Schwartz from Denver Life Magazine.”

I shook Thomas Schwartz’s
hand. “Nice to meet you.” Pulling Gianna forward, I added. “This is
my girlfriend, Gianna.”

Jim’s eyes studied her and
I knew he was checking her likeness to that of the painting hiding
in the back. “Good to meet you, Gianna.”


If you have a few minutes
free,” Thomas Schwartz said. “I’d like to interview you for an
article I’m writing, Caleb.”

At Jim’s nod, I agreed,
“Of course, Mr. Schwartz.” Seeing Chris talking to my dad nearby, I
told Gianna, “I’ll be back in a bit, go hang out with our
parents.”

She frowned at the order,
her eyes flashing annoyance. “Yes, Caleb.”


Is that the girl from the
violent painting Jim has stashed in the back?” Thomas
asked.

I shot Jim an unhappy
look. “That one wasn’t supposed to be in the show.”

Jim shrugged
remorselessly. “It’s one of your best and being sold as a set with
the football player.”


Could you please not
mention it in the article?” I asked Thomas.


Of course,” he answered.
“But could I ask you some questions about your time spent in youth
corrections and the subjects of the other paintings?”

Those paintings were much
less painful to talk about in comparison to the one of Gianna.
After the interview with Thomas Schwartz, Jim guided me over to a
reporter from 5280 magazine for a similar set of questions. I
spotted Debra making Sydney do the same rounds. After the Rocky
Mountain News, there was the reporter from the Denver
Post.

By the time we finished,
thirty minutes had passed and I didn’t see Gianna
anywhere.

 

*****

 

GIANNA

 

A girl with dark brown
hair, wearing an ivory dress and heels, came up next to me as I
stood admiring one of Sydney Atwood’s paintings. “It’s beautiful,
isn’t it?”


She’s really talented,” I
replied, smiling at the girl next to me.


So is Caleb,” the girl
said, grabbing my full attention at the use of just his first name.
It wasn’t hard to guess who she was. “I’m Norah, by the
way.”


Gianna,” I introduced
myself, although she must know since her roommate tracked me down
like a crazy person.

Norah returned my smile.
“I know, I recognized you from the painting.”


Painting?” I asked,
confused. I’d walked the entire show while Caleb was busy speaking
to different people. There hadn’t been any paintings of me. I’d
recognized Ian in the zoo painting and barely held back laughter.
People would’ve thought something was wrong with me if I’d
unleashed my amusement.


Didn’t you see it?” Norah
asked in bewilderment.

Scanning the large open
space, I said, “No, I think I’ve seen everything.”

She pointed a manicured
finger. “It’s right back there. Come on, I’ll show you.”

As I followed her, I
noticed she exaggerated the sway of her hips like a runway model. I
couldn’t help comparing myself to the girl Caleb had briefly dated.
She was really pretty and dressed well, even if her dress was a
little too short. If I didn’t know for certain I had Caleb’s heart,
I’d be seething with jealousy.

Purposely, I pushed away
the reminders of what they’d probably done together.

Norah led me to a secret
little room. The walls were a stark white and only two paintings
hung on one wall next to each other. Two small spotlights glared
down on my nightmare. In one painting was Josh, horrifying in his
fury, and the other was me in the worst night of my life, broken
and bleeding.

I slapped a hand over my
mouth to contain the sob threatening to escape. Backing away from
the paintings, I hit a wall. My emotions were wild and I couldn’t
understand what these paintings were
doing
here.


Are you all right?” Norah
asked in phony concern, her face close to mine.

Instead of responding, I
ran away from my nightmare and right into what I’d thought was my
dream. Caleb stood not far from the secret room, obviously looking
for me.

Upset, I rushed toward him
and pulled my hand back to slap him. The ring of my palm hitting
his cheek caused a shocked gasp from an elderly woman
nearby.


How could you?” I yelled
at him, uncaring of our audience. “How many people have seen
it?”

His arms reached for me,
but I backed up and saw my dad heading straight for me with a
determined look on his face. I finally took in the people around
us. From some of the pitying expressions I knew which ones had seen
the painting so far.


Gianna,” my dad said.
“What’s going on?”

My mom and Scott weren’t
far behind him.


I’m sorry,” Caleb said in
a tortured voice. “I hadn’t meant for it to be in the
show.”


Then why did you paint
it?” I asked, becoming more hurt and angry by the second. And where
had that bitch, Norah, run off to?

He looked guilty and
miserable but I
did not give a
damn
. Whirling away from him, I told my
dad, “I’m ready to go home.”


Gianna, wait,” Caleb
protested.

Again, I did not give a
damn.

Not meeting anyone’s eyes
to avoid seeing the sympathy they’d reveal, I let my dad lead me
out the gallery entrance and to his car. “What happened back
there?” he asked as he pulled away from the curb.

Wiping away the tears, I
looked out the window. “Caleb and I just broke up again. I really
don’t want to talk about it, dad.”


What did he do?” my dad
asked in a protective tone.


Something
unforgivable.”

 

*****

 

CALEB

 

I stood staring at a spot
on the floor until my mom said, “Caleb, I’m sorry. I should have
insisted they weren’t included.”


I want them taken down,”
I growled, heading for the little back room.

My mom was behind me as I
came to a halt at what I found. There Norah stood, fidgeting
nervously with a worried look on her face. “You fucking bitch,” I
hissed. “Get out of my sight before I do something that gets me
arrested again!”

Hurrying past me, she
scurried like the fucking rat she was. Jim showed up, his eyes wide
in panic. I realized that little room was a cell containing my
worst crime. I never should have painted them and Gianna definitely
never should have been forced to see them.


Whoa, wait a second,
Caleb,” Jim protested. “We have a contract.”


Leave him alone,” my mom
snapped.


I’m seventeen, I doubt
it’s legal.” Stacked on top of each other, I shoved them at Jim. “I
don’t care what you do with them, but I better not see those
again.”

At the relief on his face,
I wanted to punch him. “They’ve already sold. I’ll just store them
in my office for now.”


I’m leaving,” I told my
mom as I pushed past Jim.


Okay, honey,” she said
softly at my back.

My dad stood next to an
equally worried Julie. “Caleb.”


Not now, dad. I’ll be
home later.”

As I walked away from
them, I heard Julie say, “Scott, I need to go make sure Gianna is
all right.”

I’d hurt my girl again when I promised not to.
This time I had no excuse for it and I didn’t know if she’d be able
to forgive me.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

 


Live as if you were to
die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever.”

-Mahatma Gandhi

GIANNA

Cell phone in hand, I read
his latest text message.

I’m at your door. Your dad
won’t let me in.

I hit reply.
Go away, Caleb.

I hate that I hurt
you.

Go away, Caleb.

I just need to see
you.

I walked over to my window
and texted,
Look up at my
window
.

He backed out onto the
grass and saw me holding up my middle finger as I mouthed,
go away.

From his clenched jaw and
drawn eyebrows, he didn’t like the message. I watched as he stalked
to his car and got behind the wheel.

And sat.

An hour later he was still
parked outside my house.

He finally disappeared
around three o’clock and I figured he’d gotten hungry.

 

*****

 

Plopping down at my desk,
I flipped open my laptop. I hated reading emails on my phone, the
screen was too small and I sometimes hit the wrong keys by
accident.

I deleted most of the new
emails all at once in bulk, ones from department stores and social
media notifications. Two emails remained, one from a dance blog I
subscribed to and another from an email address I didn’t recognize
with the subject line,
Funny Pictures of
Gianna
.

Clicking it open, I
scrolled down to check out the pictures and couldn’t breathe.
Through a full blown panic attack, I struggled to call out for my
dad. Collapsing back into the chair, I hyperventilated in
helplessness. It felt as if my heart was trying to pound out of my
chest. At the same time I had the scary sensation that my body was
being squeezed into a ball. Through my dizziness, I threw up into
my trash can.

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