Hopeless(68)
Max begins to answer me when a guy from the table behind us says something to Holder that I failed to catch. Whatever he said, it immediately gets Holder’s attention and he turns completely around, facing the guy. “Could you repeat that?” Holder says, glaring at him.
I don’t turn around. I don’t even want to see who the guy is that’s responsible for bringing back the temperamental Holder in less than two seconds flat.
“Maybe I need to speak more clearly,” the guy says, raising his voice. “I said if you can’t beat them completely to death, you might as well join them.”
Holder doesn’t move right away, which is good. It gives me time to grab his face and pull his focus to mine. “Holder,” I say firmly. “Ignore it. Please.”
“Yeah, ignore it,” Breckin says. “He’s just trying to piss you off. Max and I get that shit all the time, we’re used to it.”
Holder works his jaw back and forth, breathing in slowly through his nose. The expression in his eyes slowly softens and he takes my hand, then slowly turns back around without looking at the guy again. “I’m good,” he says, convincing himself more than the rest of us. “I’m good.”
As soon as Holder faces forward, the laughter at the table behind us bellows throughout the lunchroom. Holder’s shoulders tense, so I place my hand on his leg and squeeze, willing him to stay calm.
“That’s nice,” the guy says from behind us. “Let the slut talk you down from defending your new friends. I guess they don’t mean as much to you as Lesslie did, otherwise I’d be in as bad of shape as Jake was last year after you laid into him.”
It takes all I have not to jump up and kick the guy’s ass myself, so I know Holder has absolutely no restraint left in him. He begins to turn around and his face is expressionless. I’ve never seen him so rigid—it’s terrifying. I know something terrible is about to happen and I have no clue how to prevent it. Before he can leap across the table and beat the shit out of the guy, I do something that shocks even myself. I slap Holder as hard as I can across the face. He immediately pulls his hand to his cheek and looks at me, completely taken aback. But he’s looking at me, which is good.
“Hallway,” I say determinedly as soon as I have his attention. I push him until he’s off the bench and I keep my hands on his back, then push him until he’s walking toward the exit to the cafeteria. When we walk out into the hallway, he slams his fist into the nearest locker, causing a loud gasp to escape from my lips. The force behind his fist leaves a huge dent, and I’m relieved the guy in the cafeteria wasn’t the recipient of that force.
He’s seething. His face is red and I’ve never seen him this upset before. He begins pacing the hallway, pausing to stare at the cafeteria doors. I’m not convinced he isn’t about to walk back through them, so I decide to get him even further away.
“Let’s go to your car.” I push him toward the exit and he lets me. We walk all the way to the car and he’s silently fuming the entire time. He climbs into the driver seat and I climb into the passenger seat and we both shut our doors. I don’t know if he’s still on the verge of running back inside the school and finishing the fight that * was trying to start, but I’ll do everything I can to keep him out of there until he isn’t angry anymore.
What happens next isn’t what I’m expecting to happen at all. He reaches across the seat and pulls me tightly against him and begins to shake uncontrollably. His shoulders are trembling and he’s squeezing me, burying his head in my neck.
He’s crying.
I wrap my arms around him and let him hold on to me while he lets out whatever it is that’s been pent up inside of him. He slides me onto his lap and squeezes me tightly against him. I adjust my legs until they’re on either side of him and I kiss him lightly on the side of his head over and over. He’s barely making any sound and what little sound he is making is muffled into my shoulder. I have no idea what made him break just now, but it’s the absolute most heartbreaking thing I’ve ever seen. I continue to kiss the side of his head and run my hands up and down his back. I do this for several minutes until he’s finally quiet, but he still has a death grip around me.
“You want to talk about it?” I whisper, stroking his hair. I pull back and he leans his head into the headrest and looks at me. His eyes are red and full of so much hurt, I have to kiss them. I kiss each eyelid softly, then pull back again and wait for him to speak.