Bad Intentions (Bad Love #2)(24)

“But,” she continues. “I’ve decided to suspend you for five days.”

Jess shakes his head, his nostrils flaring. He angles his face toward the floor, never wanting anyone to see the emotions he wears so clearly on his face. “I’m the first one to admit that I’m a fuckup, but this time it wasn’t my fault.”

“Did you throw the first punch?” she asks, one eyebrow raised in question.

“Yes,” he admits grudgingly. “But—”

“You threw the first punch, Mr. Shepherd. I’m sorry.”

“Can we pause for just a minute?” I ask, holding a palm up. I need to know exactly what happened if I’m going to talk him out of this one. “Jess,” I say, turning to face him. “What started this? Tell me how it happened from start to end.”

Jess rolls his eyes and picks at the strands of ripped thread at his knee. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Jess, please. I can’t help you if I don’t know how to defend you.”

“Collins was pulling his shit again,” Coach Standifer chimes in, surprising me, and from the looks of it, Mrs. Connelly, too. “Kid kept throwing a basketball at Jesse. I fouled him and told him to knock it off. Saw him walk right up to Jesse, point-blank, and throttle that ball right into the back of his head. Before I could react, Jesse turned around and swung.”

“Are you kidding me?” My blood is boiling. “It’s taking every ounce of my self-control not to go out there and pummel that kid. How can you expect Jesse to just let that happen?”

“Mr. Collins will be reprimanded as well. He claims it was an accident, and technically—”

“With all due respect, Mrs. Connelly, it was no accident,” the coach says.

“So, what do you propose we do?” she asks tiredly.

“I’m not saying Jesse shouldn’t be punished. Physical violence is never the answer,” he says, eyeing Jess. He’s silent for a minute, assessing, and hope starts to bloom in my chest. “Give him to me for six weeks,” he finally says. “He’ll join the school wrestling team, as well as the club outside of school. He’ll arrive early and set up, stay late to clean up. Two meets a month, minimum. If he misses one practice, you can suspend him.”

“Pft.” Jess scoffs. “Yeah, I’ll go ahead and take that suspension,” he says before standing. I jerk him back down by his wrist.

“Don’t you dare,” I say for his ears only. “You’re getting an out. Don’t fuck it up.” Mrs. Connelly’s expression tells me that maybe I wasn’t quiet enough.

“Well, Jesse?” she asks, arms crossed. “What’s it going to be? Six weeks of wrestling plus a week’s worth of detention, or one week of suspension?”

“Where the hell did the detention part come from?” Jess asks, losing patience.

“Watch your mouth. That’s the second time you’ve used foul language. Now, this is the only deal you’re going to get. Take it or leave it.” She shrugs.

I can tell Jess is about to say something stupid, so I stand and say, “He’ll take it.” I turn to Coach Standifer. “And thank you,” I say with a little more sincerity in my voice.

He gives me a nod. “Jesse?” Coach prods. “You good with this? It’s a commitment, and I expect you to show up.”

“I’m good with it.”

“All right, then. You’ll do your detention first, and we’ll start the wrestling next week.”

“I’m going to send you home for the rest of the day,” the principal says. “Come back tomorrow with a better attitude.”

Jess gives a reluctant nod and shakes the hand that Coach holds out for him.

“Deal,” I say when Jess doesn’t respond. Fucking teenagers. “Thanks, again.” And then I’m dragging Jess out of the office by his sleeve.

“What is your problem?” I whisper-yell once we’re in the hall.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Should I have thanked them for punishing me for defending myself?”

“I know.” I pause in the hall and give a heavy sigh. “I know. It’s bullshit. But we have to play by their rules.”

“I fucking swear I’m trying, Lo,” he says, the fight leaving his voice, and the guilt in his voice tears me up.

“I know you are.” I throw an arm around his waist, and his goes around my shoulders as we walk out of the school. “Try harder.”

“Did you have to leave work?”

“Yeah.” I shrug.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”




Instead of taking Jess home, I decide to bring him to work with me. I figured I could get back faster this way, and I can probably score him a free dinner. I plan to offer to work an hour later to make up the time I missed thanks to Jess. Right before we walk in the door, I get a call from Henry. I lift the phone to my ear, waving for Jess to go in without me.

“Henry,” I greet him.

“Kid,” he says, and I almost crack a joke about him referring to us as kid because he doesn’t know us well enough to remember our names, but I refrain. Barely.

“What’s up? I’m heading into work.”