Cuts Run Deep (4 page)

“Do you really think the cops are gonna want to talk to us?” I approached Zach at his locker between classes. He was reaching inside his open locker, his backpack sat unzipped at his feet.

“Keep your voice down,” he whispered, his eyes shifting around the hallway. Students whisked past, while others chatted by their lockers. No one seemed to notice us at all. They all milled about like it was any other day. It was weird how ordinary it all seemed. All of us getting our books out of our lockers and racing to class, going about our business like nothing had changed. Jackson would never open another locker again. He’d never read another book for English, or sit through math class, or take a quiz. I wanted to feel envious of him for that, but mostly I felt sick.

Zach reached in his locker and grabbed out his math book. That’s right. He had math next period. Just like Jackson. They’d had the class together.

I shivered. “We need to get our story straight, man.”

“You need to chill out.” Zach’s eyes darkened.

Panic rose in me like a wave when it rolls in at the beach. Once it crests, it can’t stop. And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t make this panic subside. It sat right in my gut, nagging at me incessantly. There was no shaking it. “We can’t let them find out what we’ve done.”

Zach’s hand circled my upper arm, his face right in mine. “They’re not gonna find out because we’re not gonna say anything, right?”

I nodded, breathing heavily. God, I felt like I’d run a damn marathon. And my heart was beating out of control.
Was I having a heart attack?

Zach released my arm, glancing around once again. “You just need to stay calm. Everything’s going to be fine.”

“How can you say that?” I whispered harshly, memories of the last time we saw Jackson filling my mind. Sweat broke out on my upper lip and beaded across my forehead. “God, he was so mad at us. And then he said he was going to…I mean, we had no choice. But now he’s gone.” I grabbed my head in my hands. “Oh, god.”

Zach clamped a hand on my shoulder. “Tyler, you’re making a scene. Pull yourself together now.”

His words crashed into me, yanking me from my panic attack. I stood up straight, swallowing hard. Breathing in and out slowly, I willed my heart to slow. My gaze swept the hallway that was starting to clear out. I was grateful that no one was staring, but the sparseness reminded me that I needed to get to class. This was not the day to arouse suspicion. Everyone was already on high alert. Sniffing, I wiped under my nose. Then I nodded at Zach, keeping my expression neutral.

Relief filled his eyes. He smiled and then bent down to pick up his backpack. After snatching it off the ground, he flung it over his shoulder. “Okay. I better get to class. We’ll talk after school.” Slamming his locker shut, he eyed me. “You all right?”

“Yeah.” I puffed out my chest, attempting to appear braver than I felt.

Zach didn’t look totally convinced, but the bell rang so he had no choice but to walk away.

“See ya,” Zach called before racing down the hallway.

I stood, watching him for a minute, feeling numb. Then I whirled around and headed in the opposite direction. My tennis shoes squeaked on the linoleum as I walked. Turning the corner toward my science class, I passed the drama room. Even though it wasn’t where I was supposed to go, I found myself drawn to it. I peered inside. It was empty. Not that I was surprised. There was only one drama class and it was first period. With trembling hands, I reached forward and turned the knob. I was stunned when it opened. It should have been locked.

Then again, Mrs. O’Connor was most likely distraught today. She’d lost one of her beloved actors. She was known for getting attached to her students.  We’d lost another student only a month ago, and he’d also been a drama student. I think Mrs. O’Connor had taken several days off because she was so upset. I wondered if she’d do that again.

I shuddered as I walked inside the room. The door closed softly behind me. I’d never taken drama. In fact, I’d teased Jackson like crazy when he joined the class. We were athletes, not theatre geeks. Jackson didn’t belong here anymore than Zach and I did.

But that was before.

That was when I thought I knew Jackson.

So much had changed now.

On the wall there was a playbill from
Romeo and Juliet
. I walked to it, and stared up at the faces of Jackson and Piper decked out in their costumes. I hadn’t gone to the play. It was gay, that’s what I told Jackson when he asked if I was going. At the time I told myself that he wasn’t disappointed. I told myself that he was most likely relieved. We all knew the only reason he wanted to be in the play was to get in Piper’s pants.

At least that’s what we thought.

I stared up at Jackson’s smile. It practically jumped from the playbill as if it had a life of its own. Jackson was charismatic without even trying. Even dressed up in some shitty Shakespeare costume he looked cool. I had to admit that even Piper looked pretty good wearing an old fashioned dress. Dresses weren’t something we ever saw Piper in. Truth was, we never understood what Jackson saw in that girl. It was one of the many things that distanced us from him this last year.

There were moments when I could even pretend she was the reason for everything that happened between us. But deep down I knew that wasn’t right. My culpability was pretty damn huge. I’d messed up in the worst way.

“What are you doing in here?”

My head snapped up at the sound of Mrs. O’Connor’s voice. I guess that answered my question of how many days she’d take off. Apparently the other boy meant more to her than Jackson.

Listen to me.
The other boy
. As if I didn’t know his name. Honestly, I wished I didn’t. I wished I’d never known anything about him. But I did.

I knew too much.

“Um…I’m sorry. I was just um…” I didn’t know what to say. What the hell was I doing in a classroom I’d never stepped into before in my life? Worse yet, I was supposed to be in science class right now, not wandering around campus. God, Zach was going to kill me. Mrs. O’Connor would probably send me to the office and I’d have to explain myself. Why was I drawing attention like this? If there was ever a day to blend in, it was today, damn it.

Mrs. O’Connor came to stand next to me. Her eyes landed on the playbill. I saw the faint traces of moisture filling them. “They were great. I think he might have been the best male lead I’ve ever had.”

I nodded, unsure of what to say to that.

“He brought the character to life in extraordinary ways.” Her head turned to me. “Jackson played Romeo with just the right amount of pain and charisma. You know, it takes someone really deep to pull out a character like that.”

Her eyes pierced through me, right to my very soul. I held my breath.

“You should get to class.”

“Yeah,” I mumbled, breaking eye contact. With my head down, I hurried to the door. Pushing through it, I stepped into the hallway. I didn’t dare look back. Instead, I walked as fast as I could toward my science class. I couldn’t afford anymore close calls today.

“No, you can’t go in there,” Mom said in a desperate tone from the other side of the door.

I sat up in the bed, craning my neck. The nurses had wheeled me back from the CT scan a little while ago, and Mom was anxious for the results. I thought that was why she left the room. So, who was she talking to now? I’d yet to see my dad, even though Mom said he was here and wanted to see me.
Yeah, right.

“We just need to ask her a few questions,” an authoritative voice responded.

I shivered, tugging on the white sheet that covered my body.

“No way. Not today. She’s not well,” Mom said, using her most firm voice. The one usually reserved for me when I’d disobeyed. I sort of felt sorry for whomever was out there.

Pushing myself up farther, I tried to see out into the hallway, but the damn IV kept pulling at my arm keeping me in place. Still I caught a glimpse of navy blue. It was just the edge of a sleeve, but it was enough.
The cops.
What were they doing here?

Oh, Jackson, what happened?

Closing my eyes, I lie back on the pillow. If only Jackson were here. God, if he were here everything would be all right. He was good at making everything better. His smile alone would calm me, soothe my anxious heart. I glanced down at my pale, freckled hands thinking about how empty they felt without his fingers wrapped around them. The first time Jackson held my hand it was so different than when I’d held boys’ hands before. Like his hand fit mine perfectly. As if when God created us he made our hands for one another. I’d never believed in soul mates until I met Jackson. I was convinced he was the person destined for me.

That’s why it was so fitting that we played Romeo and Juliet. Not everyone loves that story. Some people find it too tragic or clichéd. Some criticize how young Romeo and Juliet were, stating that they could never be that in love at their age. But I disagreed with all those assessments. I’d always thought of their story as beautiful and pure. And sure, maybe a little tragic and haunting, but that’s what makes it a story.

Every story worth telling has to have conflict, right?

In my opinion, Romeo and Juliet were destined to be together. Their love was timeless and real, like Jackson and mine. We may have only been seniors in high school when we fell in love, but it wasn’t puppy love. It was a forever kind of love.

And now he was gone.

God, it didn’t seem real. I was convinced that it hadn’t hit me yet. Like I was still in shock or something. It was the only thing that made sense, because if I had truly come to grips with it, I wouldn’t be able to breathe right now. I wouldn’t be able to keep going through the motions.

The minute I’d fallen for Jackson I knew I couldn’t survive without him. So, I guess a part of me wondered if he was still alive, if everyone was wrong about him being dead. I mean, I was still breathing. I was still here. So didn’t that mean that he must be too?

A world without Jackson was one I couldn’t even imagine. One I couldn’t even think about. He painted my world with bright colors when all I’d ever known was muted greys and browns, stark black.

I fisted my hands at my sides, rolling the white sheet in between my fingers.
Jackson, you can’t leave me. You can’t make someone love you and then leave them like this.
Anger coursed through me, and I welcomed it. Anger was something I was familiar with. Anger kept the grief at bay, and I was grateful for that.
You hear that, Jackson. I’m angry with you.
Maybe that would make him come back. He liked a challenge. It fueled him. Perhaps it would even yank him from the grave.

It was my anger that drew him to me once. Maybe it would draw him to me again.

“Why did you even try out for the play if you weren’t going to take it seriously?” I spat, storming toward my car after rehearsal. My backpack banged against my spine, jostling the books inside. I pressed the script to my chest. A cool fall breeze fluttered the pages, causing them to whisper as if the sheets of paper were reciting my lines.

“I am taking it seriously.” Jackson trailed me, his feet thumping on the pavement.

“Oh yeah?” I whirled around, anger simmering like a pot on the stove. “So you weren’t trying to cop a feel all through rehearsal today?”

Jackson bit his lip, fighting back a smile.

It angered me further. “Glad to see you’re not denying it.” I clutched the script tighter against me. “At least I won’t add liar to your list of less than desirable traits.”

“I’d love to get my hands on that list.” Jackson stepped toward me. “Then maybe I’d understand why you hate me so much.”

The scent of leather wafted from his jacket which flapped around him when the wind kicked up, exposing his tight t-shirt molding to his taut muscles. A strand of his brown hair lifted from his forehead. God, why did he have to be so good looking?

I spun around. My car was only a few steps away. I practically lunged for it, needing to get away from him.

“Or you could just tell me.” Jackson stood directly behind me.

I reached for the doorknob of the driver’s side door, then cursed internally realizing it was locked. And my keys were in the front pocket of my backpack. Great. I was going to have to take off my backpack and get them out. That meant more time out here with Jackson.

There were no other students here anymore. Jackson and I had to stay late to work on a scene with Mrs. O’Connor. The sun was setting, so the sky was darkening. Something about being alone with Jackson out here in the dark of night made my pulse race. Yet another reason why I needed to get the hell out of here.

“Why do you hate me so much, Piper?” His breath fanned over my neck, hot and soft as it skated across my skin. I shuddered.

Swallowing hard, I turned around. “This play is important to me. I’ve been waiting my whole life to be Juliet, and now I finally get my chance. And you’re ruining it.”

“I am? How?” His brows furrowed, and he appeared genuinely confused.

He almost had me. But I knew guys like him. Cocky guys that didn’t know how to be real. They only knew how to play games to get what they wanted. “You know how, Jackson. This is all a game to you. You’re not taking it seriously.” I sighed. “If all you wanted was to get me in bed, you should’ve just asked. Why go through the whole ruse of trying out for Romeo?”

“Really? All I had to do was ask?” The arrogant, teasing Jackson was back. His lips curled upward in that amused expression I’d seen him use with his friends. “And would you have said yes? Would you have used a sexy voice?” He smirked. “Let me hear it now. C’mon, give it a try.” Moving closer, he splayed his hands on my car, caging me in.

My heart kicked up speed. “No, I wouldn’t have said yes and I definitely wouldn’t use a sexy voice. Now back off before I scream.”

He shoved off the car, an apologetic look in his eyes. “Sorry. I was just teasing you.”

“And you proved my point.” Yanking my backpack forward, I unzipped the front pocket and fished inside for my keys.

“Hey.” Jackson placed his hand over mine, and it stilled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize this play meant so much to you. I’ll take it more seriously, okay?”

His words sounded so sincere that I wanted to believe them. I wanted to gather them up and lock them in a glass jar because I knew they were elusive, like fireflies. Tonight they were here for the taking, but who knows where they would fly off to tomorrow.

“Really?” I didn’t bother masking my skepticism.

He threw up his hands. “Promise. Tomorrow I’ll be on my best behavior.”

With my hand free, I snatched out my keys. They dangled from my fingertips, the metal clanging together. “Just tomorrow?”

He chuckled. “Man, you don’t let people off the hook very easily, do you?”

“Nope.” I narrowed my eyes.

“With that attitude, you’re lucky you’re hot.” He smiled.

My cheeks flushed despite my best efforts. No guy had ever called me hot before. I wasn’t exactly the “hot girl” type. Glancing down at my black skirt, ripped fishnets and Doc Martens, I wondered if Jackson was messing with me. Regardless, the last thing I wanted to do was encourage him in any way or make him think I liked when he called me that. “I need to get home,” I mumbled.

“Hey.” His index finger tucked under my chin. “I meant what I said.”

Confused, I pursed my lips. Was he saying that he meant I was hot, or that he meant he would take the play more seriously? I wanted to ask him to clarify, but the words died on my lips. His finger was still on my skin, and my flesh heated up at his gentle touch. Trembling, I stood unmoving like a statue.

“I told you I would prove that I’m your Romeo, and I will.” His finger left my chin, and he took a step back.

I sucked in a ragged breath as he walked off. While I watched him make his way toward his car parked at the edge of the lot, I worried about the effect he had on me. No guy had ever made me feel this way. And I wondered if he’d be my undoing.