Will the Real Prince Charming Please Stand Up (15 page)

Voices started to infiltrate the darkness.

“She’s still unconscious.” My brother sounded worried. “It’s been almost five minutes.”

“I think we’re going to need to take her to the ER,” I heard Tim say.

“I know. She must have hit her head hard.”

“Hamilton is freaking out. Said we shouldn’t have moved her. Did you call your parents?”

“Mom’s on her way. Dad said to call him when we’re on our way to the hospital. Said if she doesn’t wake up in the next few minutes, I should call for an ambulance and not wait for Mom.” A pause. “Dude, where were you?” Brady demanded.

“Vicky wanted to talk about something for, like, two minutes,” Tim replied. “It’s not like I could say ‘no.’ Where were you?”

“With Kira. I thought you were meeting her after class.”

“I was, but I thought she’d stay put. Why’d she go and talk to him, anyway?”

“Who knows?” Another pause. “I can’t believe you broke his nose.”

“Seriously? I broke it?”

“Jorgensen thinks so.”

“Good. My hand kind of hurts.”

A door opened, and I heard Ally shriek. Her high-pitched voice reverberated in my head. I winced from the pain.

“Shh,” Tim hushed her.

“What happened?” Talia’s voice was blessedly more sedate.

“Dante,” Brady replied.

“Concussion?” I heard Finn ask as a door closed.

“I think so,” said Tim. “She’s unconscious and has a big bump on her head.”

Someone started stroking my hair, and I struggled to open my eyes. The sharp fluorescent lights came into view first, then Tim’s concerned face.

“Hey,” he whispered.

“Hey,” I said hoarsely. I frowned. “My head hurts.”

He grinned. “Yeah, I imagine it does.”

I tried to smile, but I felt my stomach lurch. I forced myself to sit up and leaned over the side of the bench where I was lying before I threw up all over Tim’s feet.

A collective gasp came from my girlfriends, and I looked up at him in horror. “Oh no,” I whispered.

He looked down at his shoes, blinked a few times, and reached into his pocket. “Hey, Marks,” he said, tossing something to Finn. “Go to Betty. I’ve got a gym bag in the trunk with my basketball shoes. Do me a favor and grab them?”

“I’ll go with you,” Ally said, and they rushed out of the room.

“And tell Mrs. Baker she’s awake!” Brady called after them, covering his mouth as though he might vomit, too.

Tim sat beside me and peered into my face. “Are you okay?”

“I feel really sick,” I said. Brady moved something beside me and stepped back. Tim held my hair off my neck and gently rubbed my back as I dry-heaved into the plastic wastebasket.

“She can ride in your car,” my brother said.

“You’re a jerk,” I said, glaring at him.

Brady smiled and handed me a bottle of water. “Drink this slowly. I’m glad you seem to be feeling better.”

“Do you remember what happened?” Tim asked.

I sipped from the water bottle and lowered myself back down onto the bench. I closed my eyes. “Dante tried to kiss me,” I said. “I bit his lip, and he pushed me into the wall and hit me again.”

I felt Tim freeze beside me. “Again?” he repeated.

“What do you mean
again
?” my brother demanded.

I winced. “Ow. Stop yelling.”

“Talia?” Tim asked.

“Halloween,” she said after a long pause. “Ally’s Halloween party.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” Brady was yelling again. He slammed his fist against a metal cabinet, and the rattling was as bad as his screaming. “I
knew
something was up that night!”

The door opened, and Mrs. Baker walked in. “Mr. Sullivan, that’s quite enough,” she reprimanded him.

I sat up as she appraised the situation. I followed her gaze to the vomit on Tim’s shoes, and she nodded. “How are you feeling, dear?” she asked me.

“My head hurts,” I said.

“She’s also nauseous,” my brother added.

She nodded again. “I can see that. Can you walk, Miss Sullivan?”

“She hasn’t tried,” Tim replied for me. “She only woke up a few minutes ago.”

Finn and Ally returned with Tim’s gym bag, both of them breathing hard from sprinting to and from the senior lot.

“I grabbed the whole bag,” Finn said with labored breaths as he tossed the bag and keys to Tim. “Hi, Mrs. Baker.”

“Mr. Dorscher, when you’ve changed your shoes, your mother is waiting for you in Mr. Hamilton’s office.”

I grabbed Tim’s arm, alarmed. “Wait. What? Why?”

“It’s protocol, Bianca, dear,” Mrs. Baker explained. “Any time there’s fighting in school—”

“But he was defending me!”

“—we call in parents to review the surveillance tapes before deciding upon disciplinary action.” She looked sympathetic. “It’s standard procedure, dear.”

Tim hurriedly changed his socks and shoes. “I’m sure it’ll be okay,” he assured me with a kiss on the forehead before he followed Mrs. Baker out of the room.

“What were you thinking?” Brady asked after the door closed behind them. “Didn’t I tell you to stay away from that guy? Why did you even go and talk to him?”

I held my head in my hands, and Talia rushed to my side. “I got called to Hamilton’s office during last period. I guess someone told them that Dante was bothering me, and they reminded me about the anti-harassment rules.”

“Did you tell them?” she asked.

“No.”

“Ugh,” she groaned. “That was the whole point of even going to Jorgensen!”

I stared at her in disbelief. “Wait a minute.
You
told them?” It came out as a weak question, only because I didn’t have the energy to rage at her.

“Duh. Do you really think he’d stop on his own?”

“Why didn’t you say anything, Bianca?” Brady asked.

“I thought that maybe I could handle it myself.”

“So you thought you could just go up to Dante and tell him to stop it? And he’d listen to you?” My brother was furious. “What were you thinking?”

I sighed. “I was giving him the benefit of the doubt. Jorgensen said that maybe he didn’t realize he was freaking me out.”

Talia narrowed her eyes. “He knew exactly what he was doing.”

“I know this now,” I said, grimacing, “but I felt like I had to try.”

There was a soft knock on the door, and Finn opened it to reveal my mother. She seemed relieved to see me, but she also burst into tears when she entered the room and rushed forward to embrace me.

“Watch out, Mom,” Brady said. “She threw up on Tim’s shoes earlier.”

Mom scowled at him. “I’ve had both of you throw up on me more times than I can count,” she said, cradling my head on her shoulder. “A little vomit doesn’t scare me. And where were you when all of this happened?”

I winced again, this time at the shrillness of her voice. “Mom, it’s not his fault,” I said. “Talia told Mr. Jorgensen that somebody was bothering me, and he and Mr. Hamilton said that maybe the person bothering me didn’t know, so I went up to Dante to ask him to leave me alone, and he got really angry or something.”

“It wasn’t the first time, either,” Brady said. When our mom looked up sharply at him, he raised his hands in defense and added, “I just found out about that.”

She pursed her lips, disappointed. “Talia, honey, I’ve called your mother. She’s on her way. I’m sure you don’t mind.”

“No, not at all,” she murmured.

“And I saw that Dante fellow with his parents in Mr. Jorgensen’s office,” Mom said with a frown. “Aaron Schwartz is an old friend of Mr. Hamilton’s, so it’s just as well that Martin isn’t the one handling this. Conflict of interest and all.”

“What’s going to happen to him?” Ally asked. I’d almost forgotten she was there. I’d never known her to keep quiet for very long.

“At the very least, I’m sure he’ll be suspended,” Finn replied.

“He’d better get expelled!”

“Settle down, Brady,” our mom said. “We’ll let the administrators decide.”

****

I was back in the principal’s office for the second time that day, this time with my mom present. Mr. Hamilton showed her the events of the afternoon as captured by the hallway surveillance cameras. She watched the video with rapt attention and squeezed my hand when she saw Dante trap me against the wall and force himself on me. She winced when she watched him push me back and slap me, and she let out a small gasp when she watched me collapse onto the floor.

It was really weird to witness everything that had happened from outside my own body.

It took a few moments before Mom composed herself, but when she finally did, she fixed the principal with a cool stare.

“Martin,” she said, “I fail to see where there’s any misunderstanding about the course of events. Clearly, the Schwartz boy is to blame. He attacked my daughter. Timothy merely rushed to her defense.”

I almost felt bad for Mr. Hamilton. He looked uncomfortable under my mother’s unfaltering gaze.

“Yes,” he nearly stammered. “Well, as you can see, Timothy delivered quite a blow to Dante’s nose—”

“Not hard enough,” Mom muttered.

“—and it appears to be broken. Mr. Schwartz is thinking of pressing charges against Timothy—”

“No!” I cried.

“—for breaking his son’s nose, but he said he would reconsider if you and your daughter agree to not press charges against Dante.”

“I see,” my mom said with a curt nod. “And what of Dante’s status at Westgate?”

Mr. Hamilton tugged at his collar. “I’m not at liberty to discuss the status of other students,” he replied.

“I see,” she said again. She folded her hands in her lap. “And Timothy?”

He cleared his throat nervously. “Again, Mrs. Sullivan, I cannot talk about other students.”

I suddenly realized Tim could be expelled from Westgate and gasped. “But he’s supposed to go to Stanford!” I cried. “You can’t—”

My mother calmly put her hand up to silence me and shifted in her seat. There was a soft knock on the door, and Mrs. Baker entered with Talia’s mom.

“Mrs. Nicoletti is here to see Mrs. Sullivan,” the secretary said. The principal blanched and nodded once.

“I’ll be right back,” my mother whispered, giving my hand a gentle squeeze.

I turned and watched her greet Talia’s mother with a warm hug. They spoke in hushed tones just outside the door, my mother wringing her hands and occasionally gesturing in my direction while Mrs. Nicoletti’s brow furrowed as she listened. Finally, Talia’s mom nodded, put her hand on my mother’s shoulder, whispered something in her ear, and guided her back to the chair beside me.

“Hello, Martin,” Mrs. Nicoletti said to the principal as my mother sat down. From the tone of her voice, it sounded like she didn’t care much for Mr. Hamilton. She looked down at me and offered a small smile before returning her attention to the portly bald man behind the desk.

“Martin,” my mother said, “I’ve invited Paula to join us.”

Mrs. Nicoletti nodded. “I’m here as legal representation for Bianca and her family. I understand the Schwartzes are considering taking legal action against Timothy?”

“It’s been discussed,” he replied. His chair creaked as he shifted in it.

“But they’re willing to overlook Timothy’s transgression on the condition that the Sullivans overlook their son’s assault on their daughter. Did Julia relay that correctly?”

He grabbed his collar again as if to loosen it. “Yes, she did.”

“And did I understand correctly that you and Mr. Jorgensen spoke with Bianca earlier today and issued a reminder that if she feels she is receiving unwanted attention that she ought to first confront the offender?”

Mr. Hamilton gulped and turned a whiter shade of pale, and I could swear his head was shinier than usual. “It was brought to our attention that another student may have been, er, bothering her,” he said. “We addressed the issue as we felt best.”

“I see.” Talia’s mom whispered into my mother’s ear again, and my mom nodded.

“Come on, honey,” she said, helping me to my feet. “Let’s get you back to your brother. Dr. Shapiro’s office is expecting you. Brady will take you to get your head checked out.”

“No,” I protested. “I want to know what’s going to happen to Tim!”

“It’s okay, Bianca,” Mrs. Nicoletti said. “I know what I’m doing. And Tim will be fine.”

“Mom?” I pleaded.

She only nodded. “I’ll make sure they don’t do anything to jeopardize his future at Stanford.”

Having a concussion wasn’t any fun. Not only did I have the worst headache imaginable, I barely got any sleep because my mom kept coming into my room every three hours to check on me. And if a tiny flashlight was never shined in my eyes again, I wouldn’t miss it.

“I need to check your pupils!” my mom had insisted every time she woke me up.

I understood that she cared, but at two in the morning? Seriously?

And though Mom insisted on keeping me home from school the rest of the week — which was awesome — she wouldn’t let me do anything. I wasn’t allowed to get out of bed, check my email, watch TV, talk on the phone, or even text anyone. I couldn’t even play games on my phone. It was like I’d completely been cut off from the world.

The fact that Dante’s parents had voluntarily pulled him out of Westgate and Tim had only been issued a week’s detention for breaking Dante’s nose was a small consolation. Mom had told us the news when Brady and I came home from Dr. Shapiro’s office. As Mrs. Nicoletti had promised, she knew what she was doing. My mom had agreed not to press charges against Dante or the school, the Schwartzes wouldn’t press charges against Tim, and nothing would appear on Tim’s permanent record.

Brady brought Ally and Talia to our house a couple of hours after school on Tuesday. Ally gushed about how well she thought she’d done during callbacks, which only made me feel worse for missing my final audition.

“Mrs. Riley asked how you were feeling when I saw her today,” she said. “I told her you were okay but that the doctor told you to stay at home and rest.”

I nodded. Hearing that kind of made me feel a bit better, but I was really mad that this whole stupid thing with Dante had eliminated my chances of being in
Chicago
.

Ally took pictures of me pretending to sleep so that she could post them on her blog for her updated story. And this time, I didn’t argue with her on including the fight at her Halloween party, but I’d asked her to make it clear that Tim and Brady didn’t know about it after until Dante knocked me out at school.

I didn’t want them to look stupid, too.

“I swear, Bianca,” Ally gushed as she uploaded the photos to her blog, “you are, like, the single most popular girl in school now. Everyone is talking about what happened.”

I made a face as I sat up. “I don’t want to be popular anymore. I think I was better off when I was only known as the QB’s sister.”

“Well, Dante’s gone, so you don’t have the crazy stalker aspect that’s associated with having a high PQ,” Talia offered as she propped pillows behind me.

“Was anyone shocked? That he suddenly left Westgate, I mean.”

They exchanged glances, and Ally shook her head. “Well, I didn’t find this out until today, but apparently Dante got his regular crew all ragey and stuff when he ditched them to go out with you.”

“What?”

“Oh, yeah! Justin and Chris and Ethan — you know those guys he used to hang out with — were telling me how lame he was. Like he dumped Zoe and his friends all at once. He went back to them after you dumped him, but they weren’t exactly pleased.”

“Needless to say, he’s not going to be missed,” Talia added.

“Ooh, but Tim is, like,
every
girl’s dream guy now,” Ally said with a wistful sigh.

“Really?” I didn’t know why, but something about that news didn’t sit well with me.

“You didn’t see what Ally wrote about him?”

I frowned. “Mom isn’t letting me look at any electronic devices. Doctor’s orders or something lame like that.” I narrowed my eyes and studied her. “Why? What did you say?”

Ally shrugged. “I may have written one or two positive things about him.”

“Whatevs.” Talia rolled her eyes. “She totally waxed poetical. Jane Austen couldn’t paint a more romantic hero.”

“Oh, come on,” she insisted. “You were there! He didn’t even flinch when she puked on him! Brady was even grossed out, and he’s her brother. And remember how cute he was, all holding her hair back and stuff? Like, tell me that’s not totally romantic.”

Talia put her hands up in mock surrender. “Clearly, your idea of what’s romantic is way different than mine.”

Ally made a face at her, then turned back to me. “The point is I think every girl at school wishes she was you right now.”

I started to laugh but stopped when it made my head hurt. “No, they don’t,” I groaned. “Or they wouldn’t if they knew how I felt.”

There was a soft knock on my door, and Ally bounded over to open it. “Hi!” she squealed when she saw who was standing on the other side. “Look, Bianca! It’s Tim!” she said, carefully enunciating her words as she ushered him into my room. She stood behind him and gave me an exaggerated wink.

“You’re a freak,” Talia said, grabbing her arm and escorting her out. “Come on. Let’s raid the pantry and bring some munchies back up here.”

“Leave the door open, please,” I called after them. The last thing I wanted was my parents banning visitors because I was behind closed doors with a guy — especially when the guy was Brady’s best friend and I’d known him practically my entire life. I sank back into my pillows and sighed.

Tim eased himself down onto the edge of my bed when they left. “Hey,” he said.

“Hey.”

“How’re you feeling?”

I put my hand up to the receding bump on the back of my head. “I still hurt a lot,” I replied with a weak smile. “And my mom isn’t letting me do anything fun. But other than that, I think I’ll live.”

He grinned. “Good.”

“How are your shoes?” I asked after a brief silence.

He laughed. “My mom washed them. They’re fine.” He held up his leg. “See?”

“Oh, good.” I stared down at my hands. “Thank you,” I whispered.

“For what? I completely messed up. If I’d gotten there a few seconds earlier—”

“It would have prolonged it,” I finished for him.

“You’re probably right.”

“I don’t think it would have ended any other way.”

“I’d never seen Brady as angry as he was yesterday,” he said, a guilty frown marring his features. “I should have—”

I reached out and held his hand. “I’m not your responsibility, Tim. And I don’t want to be. I mean, do you really want to spend your last year of high school babysitting your best friend’s sister?”

He looked down at my hand and then up at me. “I never really thought of you like that, though.”

My insides warmed as he smiled. I so wasn’t over that fourth-grade crush.

“So, Ally tells me you’re, like, Westgate’s most eligible bachelor.”

Tim laughed. “I read her post about me. I don’t know that I can live up to everything she’s written.”

“Maybe I ought to read it, then,” I said. “See if I can get her to post a retraction to set the record straight.”

He cleared his throat and sat up straight. “Well, I’m sure I can live up to most of it.”

I started to laugh but winced when my head started throbbing again. “Don’t make me laugh,” I said with a scowl. “It makes my head hurt.”

He reached over and tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “I imagine you’re going to have a headache for a while.”

“That’s what Dr. Shapiro said,” I replied. “He also said that, for the next couple of weeks anyway, I might have a heightened sensitivity to bright lights and loud, high-pitched sounds.”

“Someone needs to keep Ally away from you, then.”

“Stop it!” I said with an unsuccessful attempt at not laughing. “It hurts!”

“I know,” he said, a pained expression on his face. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it.”

I studied him as he looked down at me and wondered if I would ever meet anyone equally as ideal. Sure, he was really good-looking — I’d always thought that — but if Dante had taught me anything, it was that looks were definitely not everything. Tim was super smart, and he was funny, and we liked a lot of the same things and had a million things in common. And I felt really comfortable around him, like I didn’t need to pretend to be something or someone that I wasn’t. He’d been a part of my world for so long, he’d already seen me at my worst. But the most amazing thing about him was that even when I was freaking out or bummed about something or just feeling all crazy, he still seemed to get me.

I must have had a funny expression on my face because he looked at me questioningly. “What?” he said, his eyes narrowing.

“Nothing,” I said, slowly shaking my head. I took his hand and held it close to my chest. “I’m just thankful for you.”

His smile broadened, and his entire face seemed to light up. He leaned down and kissed the top of my head.

“Oops, are we interrupting?” Ally said from the doorway, her eyes wide with horror.

Tim turned to her. “Shh,” he said, putting a finger to his lips.

I tried hard not to laugh and punched him in the arm. “You aren’t helping!”

He laughed again as he stood up. “Feel better, okay? I’ll see you next week.”

I sat up straight, ignoring the pounding in my head. “Wait. Next week?” I echoed. “You won’t be around for Thanksgiving?”

“Brady didn’t tell you? I’m going on a road trip with my parents to check out my top picks. We’re leaving right after school tomorrow.”

“Oh.” I knew I sounded disappointed.

“So, yeah, I’ll come by to check on you on Sunday when I get back.” He kissed the top of my head again, waved goodbye to my friends, and left my room.

I fell back against my pillows, suddenly feeling empty.