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 fucking 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 fucking 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.

Date: 2015-02-16; view: 962