She had been told that first loves hurt. Her mother had told her so over and over. When she met him, he looked just like the kind of boy who could break her heart. So naturally, she fell for him in the way you could only the first time around.
At least the next time, it would be different.
1
Rory
"Tristan!" From the backseat, Rory gripped the driver's headrest and leaned to see the odometer. "You're going…" she hiccupped, "eighty-five miles per hour."
Tristan replied with a throaty laugh, "Chill out, this highway's fucking dead. Plus, I've never gotten busted."
He slapped the girl passed out in the passenger seat on the arm, who only grumbled unintelligibly before rolling her head back.
"See, Chelsea agrees." He smirked as the car increased speed, throwing Rory against her seat.
"I'm gonna be sick…" She bent over, clenching her head in her hands.
Her own breath of gin and tonic sent repulsive scents into her nostrils while the car swayed from side to side. Drinking sucks, the few sober parts of her brain rightfully complained.
"We're almost back," he coaxed, "Man, that party was sick."
A groan mixed with chuckles was her response. "I swear... I'm never drinking again."
"You say that every time." He caught Rory's eyes in the rear view mirror before his expression froze. "Shit!"
"What?!"
Before she could think, sharp sirens pierced through the air, popping her eardrums one at a time. Flashes of red and blue ensued, highlighting the night sky.
"Fuck," Tristan breathed, his voice trembling faintly, "Fuck."
Panicked, Rory turned to see the cop car behind them. "Oh my gosh… Pull over!"
But the car continued down the highway, unrelenting in its track. The sirens only grew louder.
"Tristan!" she screamed, shoving him in the shoulder.
"Shut up!" he yelled while the car jerked to the side of the road.
After an earful of expletives from the driver's seat, the car came to a full stop. The world was spinning in an endless red and blue.With her heart thumping in her ears, Rory slumped in the seat and shut her eyes to squeeze out the blinding colors. If she was nauseous before, now she was definitely going to puke, in front of the freaking police, nevertheless.
Crap, crap, crap. My mom's seriously gonna kill me.
❤ Happiness and Him ❤
"Thanks, Dad," Rory mumbled as the car pulled over by the sidewalk of a rundown high school.
"It's fine." Her father patted her on the shoulder. "Give me a call when you're done."
"Okay."
Avoiding eye contact, she turned to the window and observed the teal colored building with chipped paint and moss eaten walls. Greyview High, situated in one of the less than exceptional neighborhoods in Hartford, Connecticut, was where she would be spending forty hours of her life doing community service, including taking part in the Youth Peers Support Group, "Let's Talk!" Euphemistically described on the website, it was a friendly, open platform for youngsters to seek advice from their peers and learn to self-improve. Realistically, it was a containment of teenage idiots who were a disgrace and trouble to society.
Yup, she, an honor student from Chilton, one of the top private schools in Connecticut, was now one of them - all thanks to alcohol and Tristan's lunatic driving. At least she got it easy compared to him, she reminded herself. The poor guy was stuck with community service for practically the rest of his youth, not to mention his one year license suspension.
Bracing herself, she stepped out of the car and dared to face her father. He wore a crisp blue button down like he always did on Saturdays, bringing out the blue in his greyish eyes. She could tell he was concerned rather than disappointed from the way his eyes crinkled at the corners. It was similar to the look she received whenever she did less than superb on a test.
"Have fun, kiddo," he said.
She rolled her eyes. Her dad hadn't called her that since she was eight or nine. "I don't think I'm supposed to be having fun."
"Who cares? I won't tell your mother."
"Bye, Dad." Smiling, she backed up onto the curb and shut the door.
After the Lexus drove off, Rory turned to face her impending hell. Sighing, she crossed the dead, yellow lawn toward the school entrance. The inside was even more depressing than the building let on. The walls were a sickening pale green behind rows of dark teal lockers. The whole place was like puked up bile, reeking of sweat and stale air. With the help of the directory, she made her way to Room 207.
❤ Happiness and Him ❤
"Welcome!" A girl in her mid-twenties greeted Rory with a huge grin as soon as she entered the room.
The girl donned a large green sweater, and a handful of plastic beads as jewelry around her neck. She reminded Rory of a Christmas tree, the tacky kind that was always on sale.
"I'm Julianne." She extended a hand. "You can call me Julie."
"Hi, I'm Lorelai Hayden. Rory for short."
"It's wonderful to meet you." Julie beamed. "Please, sign in and make yourself comfortable."
"Thanks."
Rory looked at the plastic seats in the center of the room arranged in a circle. They looked anything but comfortable. Sitting in them were a couple teens, too busy on their phones to acknowledge her presence. After signing in, she picked a spot away from the others and started to sit down. The chair gave a loud squeak, causing one red head to bob up and a pair of eyes to glare her way.
"Sorry," she mumbled.
Great, I already made an enemy. As she stared at the crack on the floor by the door, a large pair of brown boots stepped through. Her gaze shifted up, observing the boy who walked in. There was a large black bruise under one of his eyes. The bruise was fitting, she thought, for he looked like trouble personified. His leather jacket hung on his frame a size too big but instead of shrinking, he only stood out. He paused at the doorway and scanned the classroom before his gaze landed directly on Rory's. Embarrassed to be caught staring, she turned away.
"Alright, everyone!" Julie's voice startled the crowd. "Now that we're all here, we can begin."
"Today, we have a new member." She waved to Rory. "Why don't you introduce yourself? Where do you go to school and why you're here?" With an encouraging smile, she added, "We just want to know how we can help.
Clearing her throat, Rory straightened herself. "Um, hi. I'm Rory."
She looked around only to meet blank faces. Feeling sweat build in her palms, she searched for any breathing, non-intimidating creature and that was when her eyes landed on the blonde-haired boy with the bruise. He was staring at her and was definitely intimidating. She settled on staring at her lap.
"I go to Chilton Preparatory High and I'm here 'cause…" She gulped, feeling her face burn. "My friend was caught drinking and driving and I was in the car."
"It's okay. That's why we're here," Julie added lightly, "to help and self-improve. Welcome to this tight-knit family, Rory."
Julie handed a stack of paper to the red-headed girl. "Lindsey, pass today's worksheet around, would ya? Today, we'll be getting into partners and answering the question 'what are you most grateful for in life?'"
Sighing under her breath, Rory grabbed a worksheet as it came around. She would be grateful if six o'clock rolled around faster and she could get out of there.
❤ Happiness and Him ❤
Her partner, Ted, was a puffy-cheeked boy with a full time stutter and round glasses continuously slipping off his nose. Observing his sweat-stained shirt that hugged his generous stomach, she couldn't guess why he was here even if her life depended on it. Eventually, she settled on him ransacking the school cafeteria for a night time snack.
"So, what are two things you're grateful for in life?" she asked.
"Uh. Uh. I- I-" He rocked in the chair, wiping his palms on his pants.
Impatient for him to spit out a sentence, she looked away, noticing the room was noisy for once. Answers like "family", "money" and "drugs" reached her ears. She wished Ted could pick any one of those. At the back of the room was that boy. He was leaning against the wall, with a pen hanging from his mouth. His partner, the red head, sat across and seemed to be quite the chatterbox.
"Tha- That's Lo- Logan."
"Huh?" Her head snapped back.
Ted tried again, "Tha- That's Lo-"
"Who?" she cut him off.
"The, the-" He pointed to the back corner.
"Oh." She smoothed the worksheet in her hand, uncapping her pen and posing to write. "I wasn't asking," she muttered, her face flushing.
"So- Sorry."
Feeling mean, she said softly, "It's fine."
"Ten minutes before moving on!" Julie yelled above the noise.
Frustrated, Rory shook her head. "Ted, do you think you're grateful for your family?"
"Uh." He nodded. "Yes."
"Great." She gave a small smile. "What 'bout friends?"
"Oh. I- I- don't-." He shook his head.
"Okay," she exhaled. "Just family, then." Jotting down the answers, she said, "Here, I can write mine for you."
She grabbed his worksheet.
"Than- Thanks."
"No problem, Teddy,"
❤ Happiness and Him ❤
"Time's up!" Julie clapped her hands twice, the sound cutting through the chitchat. "Back to the circle, please!"
"As usual, I'll collect your answers and re-distribute it. We'll read them anonymously, but I encourage everyone to speak up and share the reason behind your answer." She walked around, retrieving the papers. Shuffling the papers, she smiled at the group. "We can only help if we are open and honest."
Rolling her eyes, Rory capped her pen and tucked it into her jean pocket. After everyone received an answer sheet, the torturous activity began. Clockwise, they read the answers.
"I'm grateful for the drugs stashed behind my dad's filing cabinet in his study room," read Lindsey.
"And does the person who wrote this want to share his or her reason?" Julie asked in her ever saccharine tone. When no one offered, she gestured to the next victim. "Logan?"
Rory watched as he slumped forward and propped his elbows on his knees. Before he spoke, he cleared his throat while clearly catching her eyes. "Nicéphore Niépce and soundproof walls."
His smooth voice was expected, just like the bruise. It suited him. What surprised Rory was the way he pronounced the French name. It made him sound eloquent and smart.
"Okay…" Julie's gaze danced around the circle. "Would the person like to explain?"
He knew, she thought. It was clear in the way his eyes bored into hers that he knew she wrote the answer. Nervous from the stare-down, she let out a half-snort, half-choke.
"Rory?" Julie's eyes lit up.
Crap on a stick. Wetting her lips, she said. "Um, Nicéphore Niépce is the inventor of photography." Puzzled looks were her response. "And I like photography."
Though, like was an understatement since she owned boxes of collections under her bed.
"Okay, that's a good start." Julie's head bobbed up and down. "And the soundproof walls?"
"I like to stay in my room when, well, things in life aren't exactly rosy and I'm sure anyone who's blasted music in their rooms is grateful for soundproof walls."
"Yes," Julie chuckled, "I'm sure many here can relate."
Out of the corner of Rory's eyes, she could feel the boy's smirk.
❤ Happiness and Him ❤
At exactly six, the group dismissed and the kids were rushed out of the building, because apparently the school closed at six-fifteen sharp. Pushing through the metal doors, Rory stepped out into the night air, letting out a breath. Though it was cold, the scent of frost and grass was a relief. After two hours of sappy questions and Julie's cheerfulness, she couldn't get out of there fast enough. This was one of those days she needed the comfort of her bedroom walls. Pink and white. Her dad had painted it when she was six. Now it was a bit whimsical for her age, but she didn't care.
She jogged across the lawn toward where she was dropped off. Stopping by the road a few feet from a bench, she noticed a figure sitting there. The guy had a hand in his pocket and a black hoodie covering his head. Raising a hand to his lips, a puff of smoke streamed out of his mouth, carrying the smell of cigarettes toward Rory. She backed away, cringing at the idea of the smell on her jacket. As if noting her offense, the boy turned around.
It was that boy from her class. She could tell from his bruise, and the way his eyes held hers without a flinch. Watching her, the cigarette found him again and his mouth opened further, forming an O shape, as another round of white burst into the cold.
Quickly, she looked away and focused on the bits of rocks embedded in the concrete. He sure liked to stare, she frowned at the thought. The boys at school surely didn't stare unless a girl was wearing a mini-skirt on the verge of exposing her butt.
Breaking into her thoughts was the sound of a car followed by a beam of bright light on the road. Her mom's car pulled up and she wasted no time hopping in.
"Hey, Mom."
"Hey." Her mother's clipped reply came. She sounded nervous anytime she was away from the up-scale neighborhood they lived in.
"Thanks for picking me up."
Rory slouched slightly in her seat, wanting to escape the boy's sight, yet as the car crawled toward the bench, she couldn't help but look. He was watching with what looked like disdain. She didn't think he could look more dangerous, but right then he did. And for reasons she couldn't explain, her heart rate increased. Maybe boys with bruises and leather jackets had that kind of power on girls. She wouldn't know, and she didn't want to find out.
"Do you know him?"
Startled, Rory jumped in her seat. "Nah… He's... just a guy from the support group."
"You're here for a couple weeks," her mom said. "Stay away from those people."
She let out a sigh. "Mmkay."