Nets and Lies(37)

I jumped off the bed and grabbed my mom’s arm. “Please don’t do this! I don’t want to leave Newton.”

“I’m not letting you stay here so you can get paralyzed or killed, Jordan.”

The room began to spin around me, and I started to slide into the floor. Mr. Sands caught me and helped me back to the bed. “Jordan, you take it easy. When everything is taken care of, I’ll come back to get you,” Mom instructed.

I shook my head. “I just want out of here. Can’t I go on to the car?”

Mom waved at me dismissively with her hand. “Whatever.”

As I started to my feet, Mr. Sands brought the wheelchair over to me. “Would this help?”

I stared at it for a minute. I didn’t want my last moments at Newton to be in a wheelchair. It would make me look so weak and vulnerable. All those ass**les would win. I’d be slinking off into the sunset to lick my wounds.

“No, thank you, Mr. Sands. I can make it just fine.”

He smiled sadly at me. “All right then, Jordan. Good luck.” He held out his hand, and I shook it.

I must’ve had a pretty bad fall because I found myself returning his smile. “Sorry about all those times you had to call me to your office.”

Mr. Sands seemed just as surprised as I was for my sudden change of heart. He cleared his throat. “That’s all right. Just see that wherever you go, you make a change.”

I shot him a look. “Yeah, whatever.”

Slowly, I gained my footing and started to the door. The office was buzzing with kids bringing in notes and paperwork and checking out. With all the courage I could muster, I pulled my shoulders back, and I walked out of there like I was at the Miss Newton High pageant.

The moment I swept through the double doors into the sunshine, my shoulders drooped in defeat. I’d never imagined anything like this would happen. Driven from my own school. And not just driven—beaten and almost killed. I shuddered.

Mom’s black Lexus was in one of the first parking spaces. I slipped inside. It smelled of her—vanilla with a hint of cigarette smoke. “Vanilla drives a man crazy, Jo-Jo,” she’d always say, with a grin.

When my back hit the leather, I sucked in a painful breath. I fumbled to find the button to recline the seat. Within an instant, I was hidden from prying eyes.

It seemed like an eternity before Mom threw open her door. “Unbelievable,” she groaned, as she tossed several folders in the backseat. I heard her put the key in the ignition, and then we were pealing out of the parking space. “Don’t you worry, JoJo. It’s all going to be okay. You don’t need that school!”

My arm fell away from my eyes, and I stared over at her. “Are you shitting me?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Mom, I just spent three and half years of my life at that school. Up until a few days ago, all my friends went there. Now, I’m just supposed to say, ‘screw em’ and go on?”

She didn’t respond. Instead, she eyed the clock on the dash. It was noon. Before I knew it, she was whipping into a parking space at Longhorn’s, my favorite restaurant.

“Come on.”

I rolled my eyes. “Mom, in case you missed it, I was knocked unconscious like an hour ago. I need rest, not a steak.”

“You’re not getting a steak.”

“I’m not?” I questioned.

“Well, you can. But I was thinking about a different kind of fortification.”

Since it was pointless arguing with her, I merely snorted my frustration and grabbed my purse. A few seconds later at Mom’s request we were sliding into a booth away from most of the lunch crowd.

The waitress came over. “And what can I get you guys?”

“I’ll have a Coke,” I replied, as I flipped open the menu.

I assumed Mom would order her typical water with lemon. She did, but she also added, “And I’ll have an Amoretto Sour please.”

When the waitress left, I arched my eyebrows at her. “Kinda early in the day for a drink, isn’t it?”

“It’s five o’clock somewhere,” she quipped with a smile.

“Whatever, Mom.”

The waitress returned with our drinks and took our order. I was about to make a comment on how nice it was to be served instead of serving someone when Mom slid the drink over to me.

“Are you kidding me?”

She shook her head. “You’ve had a helluva week.”

“I was just hit in the head!” I countered.

Mom closed her eyes and then rubbed her temple. “And you were checked over and cleared by the school nurse. A little drink will do wonders to calm you down, Jordan.”

I sighed with exasperation. “Fine.” I glanced around the restaurant, making sure no one was watching, before downing the glass in two long gulps. “Happy?” I asked when Mom looked at me.

“Sure.”

As the alcohol coated my stomach, I shuddered. “I remember another time you brought me to Longhorn and got me liquored up,” I said, after our salads arrived.

“Oh?” Mom asked, as she drizzled a fine layer of Honey Mustard on her salad.

“Uh-huh. It was right before I went in for my abortion.”

Mom gasped and dropped the small dish of dressing. It smashed onto the floor and shattered.