Getting Played (Getting Some, #2)(59)

But I can’t tell her that. Not really. Not now.

“Mom.” Jason’s tone is suddenly soft. Tired and sad. “I saw them. They were in class and they were all over each other. I wish I didn’t see it, but I did.”

“That is not what happened,” I try, but it’s already like talking to the wall.

She’s going to believe him.

Of course she’s going to believe him. Lainey’s a good mother. And Jason’s a great kid.

And I am truly and completely fucked.

Lainey gazes down at her hands for a moment. Then she lifts her head and hardens her jaw, and meets McCarthy’s gaze head-on.

“I think Jason should be taken out of Coach Walker’s class.”

Coach Walker? Son of a bitch.

Miss McCarthy nods.

“Agreed. It’s a personal issue, a personality conflict. We can’t fix it overnight so it’s best for everyone involved that Jason be put in another class.”

“Hold on.” I lean forward, practically falling out of my chair. “You can’t do that. I’m the only one who teaches AP Calc—he could be taking college-level courses. Where are you going to put him—Algebra 2? His brain will atrophy.”

“Then I’ll get him a tutor.” Lainey’s voice is subzero and she barely looks at me. “It’s not your concern.”

“What the hell does that mean? Of course it’s my concern!”

Miss McCarthy snaps the papers on her desk again.

“Six-day suspension. Three out, three in-school. If you stay out of trouble, Jason, this won’t go on your record. You step an inch out of line again, and you are done here. Is that understood?”

He nods. “Yes, Miss McCarthy.”

McCarthy turns to me, and her tone is dripping with the disappointment I remember so well. She’s known me a long time, so she believes Jay too.

“As for your personal issues, it’s not my business. Take it outside, Dean.”



~



I walk Lainey and Jason out to the parking lot. I have to get back to class, but I can’t let her leave like this. And there’s no way I’m letting them pull Jason from my class. Which means I have three days to get him to understand that what he saw, was not what he thinks he saw. No time like the present.

“Kelly stopped by my classroom. She was upset. Her husband—”

Lainey stops beside her truck.

“Kelly? That’s the woman you used to hook up with on and off, even when you were with someone else?”

Her eyes are guarded, like she’s looking at a stranger—a stranger who may have just slashed her tires and kicked her dog. A stranger she wants to kick in the balls.

“In high school, yes, but—”

“Do you know what they say about you?” Jason asks from behind Lainey’s shoulder. “The stories the other kids tell about the different girlfriends you’ve screwed around on, and crazy hookups and how you’re like this legendary player around town?”

Karma sucks. If I had a time machine, I would go back and kick my younger self’s ass. It’s all his fault, the little fucker.

“But it didn’t bother me. Because I believed you cared about us. No way he’s like that now, I thought—he’s into my mom—he’d never hurt her like that.”

The words scrape raw up my throat.

“I didn’t, Jason. I wouldn’t.”

But he just shakes his head and jabs his finger at me. “Screw you for making me believe you.”

There’s a special kind of peace, especially for a boy, in knowing your mom is safe. If no one’s around to ensure that, the responsibility falls on your shoulders, even if it’s not supposed to—that’s how it feels. It must’ve been a relief for Jay to know, for the first time in his whole life, that his mom wasn’t alone. That she had someone to take care of her, protect her . . . love her.

That’s blown to hell now, but I swear on my life, I’m going to give that back to him. To both of them.

Lainey holds up her arms between us, like she’s afraid the kid is going to take a swing at me—and at this point, he might.

“Jason, get in the truck. Now.”

With a final glare my way, he climbs in, slamming the door behind him.

Lainey stands stiff and distant, her hands cradling her stomach, her shoulders and back strung tight with distrust and hurt. She can’t hide it and doesn’t try to, it radiates off her like the vibration of a bass drum. And I just want to take it away, make it better. I want to rewind to last night when she kissed me with soft, pliant, laughing lips and every part of her body and her heart was mine for the taking.

I reach out, kneading the tension in her shoulders. I press my forehead against hers, whispering, “I know this looks bad, baby. But I swear, it was nothing. It’s just a misunderstanding.”

For a moment, she leans into me and I soak up her scent and closeness greedily. But then she takes a deep breath and backs away on the exhale, lifting her chin and hardening her eyes.

“I have to get Jason home—he has to be my priority right now.”

“I know.”

“I have to talk to him, calm him down, figure out . . . I have a lot of things to figure out, Dean.”

“All right. I’ll come to the house after school and we’ll straighten everything out.”