Every Wrong Reason

“Because it is,” I promised him. “Talk to Ms. Chase about the opportunities there are for you in school. Talk to her about the ways to pay for it, the financial aid that’s available to you. Especially you, Jay.”

He didn’t say anything for a really long time and when he did, it wasn’t exactly reassuring, but it was better than nothing. “Maybe.”

“That’s all I ask,” I gave him a shaky smile. “And that you survive this year.”

“I can say definitely to that,” he gri

I looked down at my trembling hands. “I think so. I need a stiff drink, but I think I’ll be okay.” I looked up at him quickly. “I mean, coffee. I need a strong cup of coffee.”

White teeth gleamed at me in the hallway. “I didn’t mean after today. I mean are you going to survive whatever shit you’re going through.”

My eyes narrowed suspiciously, “How do you know I’m going through shit?”

He made a scoffing sound, “Anyone that sees you can tell you’re going through something deep. You’re always looking off into space and trying not to cry. You’re a mess, Ms. C.”

I smiled grimly against his honest assessment. “I’m going through a divorce.”

“He beat you?”

“God, no.” I started to ask him why he would think that but stopped myself. That abuse was his first guess said something about his home life I was positive he would never share with me. “We just… we don’t get along.”

“Boo hoo,” Jay taunted. “I don’t know one married couple that does get along.” He bounced his heel on the gritty tile floor. “Come to think of it, though, I don’t know many married couples.”

“Your parents aren’t married?”

“It’s just me and my moms. Never met my dad.”

I nodded to acknowledge that I’d heard him. When I put my life in perspective with Jay’s, he was right. Boo hoo. He came from extreme poverty, had never met his dad and seemed awfully quick to recover from having his life threatened.

My problems were small.

Nick and my problems were small.

The bell rang and I stood up to my feet, brushing the back of my pants off. I speared Jay with my most serious glare. “Go talk to Ms. Chase, Jay. Ask about college. Be the one thing in my life that goes right.”

He gri

I turned around and threw over my shoulder, “He wouldn’t have killed you on school property.”

He didn’t respond and that only made me more nervous. I stepped inside my classroom, blinking against the bright fluorescent lights. I raced for my chair so I could sit down again. A few tears slid down my cheeks, but I quickly wiped them away.

Students started to drift into the classroom and I had to hold myself together.

I had to.

Besides, all I had to do was administer a test. I could sit at my desk for the rest of the class and freak out as much as I needed to.

I knew I wouldn’t keep this a secret. I would have to go to Kellar with it. But, I also knew that Andre hadn’t been lying. We would never find that knife. I also knew that Jay was as likely to turn Andre in as Andre was. Nobody would back up my story.

Kellar would believe me, but there was nothing we could do.

And I wouldn’t risk trying to punish Andre with a suspension because I was too afraid of how he would retaliate.

I settled my students down and passed out the final exam. This was my sophomore class and the only class I had this year that I felt confident they’d actually learned something.

As soon as they’d begun I sat back down, unable to support myself on legs made out of jelly. My hands still shook and my stomach felt very near the edge of upheaving itself.

I had wanted to go home earlier.

Now I was desperate for it.

Finally, I couldn’t hold still. I picked up my cell that I’d dropped on my desk and stared at it.

I had to tell someone, if not every little detail, just enough so that I felt better. I needed someone to care.

I needed someone to be happy I wasn’t bleeding out in the hallway.

I’m alive. After pressing send, I realized that was an odd text to send to someone.

After a minute, Nick texted back. Was that in question?

A powerful shiver jolted through me. It kind of was…

His response was instantaneous this time. Do you need me? Tell me where you are.

I’m okay. I’m at school. It was just scary for a minute.

Kate…

I sniffled back a fresh surge of tears. Really, I’m okay. I just wanted to tell someone.

If you need to talk, call me.

My chest flooded with something warm and sweet. I’m in class. Maybe later tonight.

I’m here if you need me. It doesn’t matter what time.

Thank you.

I took a deep breath and it was steadier, evened out. My hands settled down. My legs stopped shaking. My head cleared and I felt like myself again.

See? I just needed to tell someone.

It didn’t matter that the first person I went to was Nick.

It didn’t matter that with only a few reassuring texts, he’d soothed me completely.

He had been there for me.

He would be there for me if I needed him later.

I knew that without a doubt.

Which was exactly why I didn’t call him.

Chapter Eighteen

25. I just want to be happy.

The start of Christmas break was just as glorious as I’d hoped it would be. I was positive I had gained ten pounds on cookie dough alone, but I was warm, I was hopped up on Netflix and hot chocolate and I’d been able to sleep in for three days.

It didn’t get much better than that.

Okay, honestly, my life wasn’t exactly the picture of happiness and contentment… but I was on my way.

The doorbell rang and I set my Kindle down, pushed off my couch and tugged on the hem of my shirt. I begrudgingly put on real clothes for the first time since break started and I was having issues with not ripping them off.

I opened the door and was swarmed by munchkins. They ran circles around me, grabbing at clothes and body parts and whatever else they could reach. A

I knew I should have stayed in yoga pants and Nick’s old tees.

“Look at you guys! You got so big! How did that happen?”

The middle munchkin stopped skipping to look up at me and say, “Veg-a-tubs.”

I raised a curious eyebrow at my old college roommate, Fiona, and repeated, “Veg-a-tubs?”

She gri

I stepped to the side so Fi could usher her gaggle inside with her full hands. She put the baby’s car seat on the rug and closed the door behind her. After she’d systematically stripped each child out of their hat, gloves, coat and boots, she turned her attention to her newest one. I was anxious to see the little guy, but right now, he was buried beneath a zipper thing and a mountain of blankets.

“Can he breathe in there?”

She shot me a glare over her shoulder. “Yes. But these freaking winters. I swear we can hardly leave the house because I’m afraid one of my children is going to turn into a popsicle.”

“I bet it’s Gigi. She looks the most popsicle like.” Gigi wrinkled her nose at me until her mom turned her attention back to the baby, then she stuck her tongue out. “Clever little girl.” I leaned over and tweaked her nose. Standing back up, I a