Until You (Fall Away Series)(120)

Why should she trust me? I’d told her I loved her. I’d tried to show her. But I’d never shown her that I would put her first.

She’d seen me with my hands all over a ton of girls that weren’t her.

She’d felt the pain, time and again, as I’d thrown her to the wolves and made her a joke in front of everyone.

She’d seen me delight in her tears and isolation.

At that moment, the full consequences of my actions descended on my body like a pile of garbage, and I was buried.

Son of a bitch.

How had she ever forgiven me at all?

“Everyone get seated,” a male voice, probably the principal, shouted over the mic, and I finally blinked.

I’m always on the outside, and I have to push my way in.

I kept telling myself that she was mine.

And I’d told her that I had always been hers.

But she didn’t feel it.

With my heart jackhammering through my chest and a fog in my head, convincing me not to think about what I was going to do, I walked down the aisle and climbed the stairs up to the stage.

Principal Masters twisted his head towards me, away from the audience.

His graying brownish hair was slicked back, and his gray suit was already wrinkled. This guy didn’t like me, but he’d cut me a lot of breaks over the years, thanks to Madoc and his father.

“You’re not going to ruin my day, are you, Mr. Trent?” he asked, almost whiny, as if he was resigned that I was indeed going to pull some bullshit.

I gestured to the mic in his hand. “Can I have a couple of minutes? On the mic?” My throat was like a desert, and I was nervous as hell.

I f*cking owned this school, but there was only one person in it I cared about right now.

Would she stay or walk out?

Masters looked at me like I was two years old and I’d just colored all over the wall.

“I’ll behave,” I assured him. “It’s important. Please?”

I think it was the ‘please’ that got him, because he raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Don’t make me regret this. You have three minutes.” And he handed me the mic.

Whistles and other remarks floated around the room as the whole place came to a hush. I didn’t even have to say anything to get their attention.

Everyone here knew that I was low-key. I only spoke when it suited me, and I never sought attention.

Which was why this was going to be f*cking hard.

The amount of blood pumping through my heart may have been what was making me a little light-headed, but I lifted my chin and slowed my breathing.

I found Tate—the only person in the room—and I let her in.

“I murdered a teddy bear when I was eight,” I said matter-of-factly. Guys hollered their approval, while girls erupted in “aw’s”. “I know, I know,” I started slowly pacing the stage. “I was a dick even then, right?”

People laughed.

“I cut the poor thing to pieces and tossed it in the trash. When my mother found out what I’d done, she was horrified. Like I’d turn to animal cruelty next or something. If she only knew…”

“The thing is,” I spoke to Tate, but I said it to everyone. “The teddy bear was something I loved. More than anything at that time. He was tan with brown ears and paws. His name was Henry. I slept with him until I was way too old.”

I shook my head, embarrassed, while the guys snorted and laughed, and the girls mooned. “One day, these kids down my street caught me carrying the bear around, and they started making fun of me. Calling me a *, a baby, looking at me like I was a freak. So I threw the bear in the trash. But that night, I went back out and got it again. The next day, I tried burying it in a box in the attic.”

I looked to Tate again. Her eyes were on me, and she was listening, so I kept going.

“Maybe if I knew it was near, but not gone, then I’d be able to live without it. But that didn’t work either. So after a few days of failing to sleep on my own, to be strong without the stupid animal, I decided to massacre it. If it was beyond repair, then it would be useless to me. I’d have to get by. There wouldn’t be any choice.”

Tate.

“So I took some garden sheers and chopped it to pieces. Cut off the legs. Memories gone. Snip off the arms. Attachment gone. Throw it in the trash. Weakness…gone.”

I looked down, and my voice cracked, remembering how I’d felt like someone had died when I did that.