Home > Breakable (Contours of the Heart #2)(89)

Breakable (Contours of the Heart #2)(89)
Author: Tammara Webber

‘I understand you were arrested last spring for assault. Plea bargained to probation, fortunately.’ Fortunately was not what she wanted to call it.

I said nothing.

Pearl told me once that Ingram was the type of leader who believed in addition by subtraction. ‘It’s half genius, half cheating. They remove the lowest-scoring students, employees with bad service records, et cetera, which raises the overall score or ranking of the organization.’

Finally, Ingram broke rank and flat-out glared. ‘Why aren’t you answering me, Mr Maxfield?’

One brow angled. ‘You aren’t asking any questions.’

Her eyes blazed. ‘Let me be clear. I don’t know what game you’re playing here, or what your business is with Miss Frank, but I don’t want her valuable time wasted for your nonsense. I don’t believe for two seconds that you have the essential work ethics or the life and interpersonal skills necessary to represent this school and its exemplary educational standards.’

I bit my lip to keep from correcting her. According to the state, her school was far from exemplary.

I tuned her out as she blathered on about my lack of integrity and critical-thinking skills and respect for authority. Funny how people who railed about other people’s lack of respect usually weren’t willing to offer any in exchange.

When she stopped, my ears rang. ‘Do we understand each other, young man?’ She clearly expected an answer to more than that question – or a heated reaction. She was doomed to be disappointed.

‘I believe so. Are we finished here, Mrs Ingram?’ I stood, casting a broad shadow over her desk from the east-facing window behind me. ‘I have a class to get to. Unless you want to make me late the first day.’ On cue, the first bell rang.

She stood, but still craned her neck to look up at me. I’d reached my dad’s imposing height over the summer, and she didn’t care for me looming a foot over her. I slid a hand into my front pocket and shifted my weight to one side – as close to a ceasefire as I’d give her. I wasn’t fourteen any more, and this woman was not going to trash my chances of getting out of this town and into college.

‘You’re dismissed. But I’m watching you.’

Uh-huh, I thought, turning and leaving without response.

I wondered why in the hell someone like her would pursue a career in education in the first place, but I wouldn’t ask. Everyone isn’t logical. Everything doesn’t make sense in the end. Sometimes you have to forget about explanations or excuses and leave people and places behind, because otherwise they will drag you straight down.

LUCAS

Saturday morning, it had been thirty-something hours since I’d seen Jacqueline. Sergeant Ellsworth and I suited up for the final module in the locker room. The two of us weren’t supposed to arrive until halfway through the class, because we would serve only one purpose today: ‘attackers’, which necessitated emotional distance from the ‘victims’.

When we entered the room, fully padded, my eyes went to Jacqueline instantly. Along with the others, she was wearing all the protective gear. They resembled a tribe of mini sumo wrestlers. She looked up and saw me, quickly lowering her lashes and biting her lip, and I was struck with a graphic recollection of the hours we’d spent in my bed. By the looks of her shy grin, so was she.

Emotional distance. Right.

I wished, too late, that I’d outright asked Jacqueline to avoid going up against me. We could practise defences together, but this was different. As the attackers, Ellsworth and I would make audible comments. We would look for openings to attack. We wouldn’t release a ‘victim’ unless a defence blow was adequately delivered – and we’d both been trained to judge that point.

This section of the class was unnerving for me. Pretending to be a sexual predator always made me crave a scalding hot shower after.

As soon as the women finished reviewing moves with Watts, they’d be ready to do what Jacqueline told me her friend Erin termed serious junk kicking.

‘She’s only excited because she can practise doing it and not hurt you guys, because of the padding,’ she said as we dressed so I could take her back to the dorm late Thursday night.

‘Uh-huh,’ I said deadpan, and she laughed.

As she pulled on her gloves, her eyes skittering away from mine, she said, ‘Erin was the first person I told.’ Her voice was so soft. ‘I wish I’d told her sooner.’

I tipped her chin and pulled her close. ‘There’s no right or wrong way to be a survivor, Jacqueline. There’s no script.’ She swallowed and nodded, not quite convinced, yet, because of Mindi. ‘You survived, and so will she.’

I was up first. As I went to the mat, I felt Jacqueline’s eyes on me, and I prayed we wouldn’t be paired for this. Vickie was the first volunteer, and she kicked my ass in the best kind of way. I’d expected Erin might step forward first or second, but she hung back with Jacqueline, who seemed in no hurry to go at all. During Ellsworth’s turns on the mat, I watched the two of them root for their classmates, Erin screaming suggestions at the top of her lungs – ‘Head butt! LAWNMOWER! Kick him! Kick him HARDER!’ – while Jacqueline cheered and clapped.

Finally, Erin squeezed Jacqueline’s hand and stepped forward to fight Ellsworth, leaving only Jacqueline and one other, extremely timid woman who worked in the Health Centre. Ellsworth eyed Erin and mumbled, ‘If this one kicks my nuts up to my throat, you owe me, dude,’ before he stepped out. ‘I’m not so sure I trust the pads with her.’

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