Rogue C16
“He was your friend, too.”
Hayden looks away from me, a slight smile on his face. It’s not a happy expression. “No, he really wasn’t.”
“Why are you here?”
“Why wouldn’t I be? The Maze Party is open to anyone with an invitation. Your mother was kind enough to extend-”
“Not at the party, Hayden. Here in Paradise Shores.”
Hayden looks down at me. The mask is back up over his features, the one I remember from the first time I saw him. I used to think it was to protect his thoughts-his emotions. Now I don’t know anymore.
“I grew up here,” he says. “I wanted to return, see if the place had changed.”
I narrow my eyes at him. He might be a different man entirely, but I still know when he’s lying. “For ten years, you’ve been gone, and now it’s convenient to check in?”
He ignores me. “How’s your gate?”
“In perfect condition.”
“Feel free to thank me whenever,” he says, flashing a smile. “I know you were raised to be polite, Lils.”
“In your dreams, Cole.”
“Oh, if you only knew what I dream of where you’re concerned.”
Hot tears pierce my eyes and I blink them away angrily. I’m furious, I’m not sad, and I’ll be damned if he thinks I am. “No,” I tell him. My voice is unrecognizable. “Who are you? I don’t recognize the boy I knew in this slickly suited up, snarky person. Who do you think you are, to make innuendos at me? You left, Hayden.”
His face falls, and for a moment, I see the person I remember. Someone I used to consider my best friend, who I thought knew everything about me. His eyes blaze and this time it’s with sincerity. Hayden reaches out and wraps his hand around my wrist. His fingers scorch me with their heat.
“Don’t leave with him,” he tells me. “Take a walk with me. Stay here with me, Lily.”
“Why?”
“Because you don’t care about him.”
“That’s not a good enough reason.”
His voice turned dark, almost hoarse. “Because I’ve missed you.”
No. No no no. Hayden Cole doesn’t get to do this. To show up and transfix me again. My teenage heart had broken so hard because of him, and it’s only now starting to mend. There’s no chance I’m falling back into this pit.
“You have no right,” I whisper, closing my eyes. “You have no right to an opinion. Not about who I date, or their presumed intelligence, none of it. You walked out of my life, Hayden Cole, and only I can decide if I want you back in it or not.”
His amber eyes, the ones I used to dream about, look back at me. There’s pain in them. “Lily…”
“Bye, Hayden.”
I leave him behind the hedge without another word, dabbing at the tears in my eyes and plastering a smile on my face.
Hayden
Hayden, 18
Mrs. Abrams raps her fingers across her desk. “You know why we’re here, don’t you, Hayden?”
I glance at the clock on the wall. Fifteen minutes of this, that’s all I need to live through.Content © NôvelDrama.Org.
“Yes.”
“College counseling is mandatory for seniors, and yet you didn’t sign up to the program. We had to call you in. Why is that?” Mrs. Abrams leans forward, a deceptively pleasant smile on her features.
Because I already know where I’m going, and it’s not to an ivy-and-brick institution.
“I don’t plan on going to college. At least not right away.”
She glances down at the papers on her desk. I recognize them: my transcripts. “You could be a B-student if you tried, Hayden. You have a few Cs, but nothing major. You could go to college. Maybe not Ivy League, but you could certainly get into some of the better public schools in the country.”
Is she going to make me spell it out? I shove my hands into my pockets.
“I don’t have the money for that.”
“There are good community colleges around here. And there are scholarships. Although…” Her smile is apologetic. “Unfortunately, with your grades, we probably couldn’t make an academic scholarship work. And your extracurriculars are…”
“Nonexistent.”
“Well, yes. But there are plenty of colleges that give out grants for students from less-than-ideal backgrounds.”
“Grants, but not full rides. I know how the situation is.”
She flushes and fiddles with the papers. I wonder if she’s ever met a student she can’t help. The Paradise Shores kids here, even the ones with terrible grades and an addiction to coke, have prospects. Trust funds, legacy status… the right sports interests.
I take pity on her. “I’m going to enlist.”
“Really? Hayden, are you certain?”
I’m not. Not at all, actually. But it sounds like the best option for me, and on the best of days, the idea of leaving this place behind and becoming someone new is more than a little tempting. I’ve always enjoyed the gym. Boot camp doesn’t sound that bad.
“Why not?” I shrug. “They pay for your college after, too. Or so I’ve heard.”
Mrs. Abrams looks at me for a very long while. It makes me uncomfortable, this level of scrutiny, before she finally sighs. It sounds resigned.
“I can’t argue with your logic, Hayden. Serving your country is a noble thing. I don’t think many of your peers would give it a second thought.”
I lean back in the chair, uncomfortable with the praise. “Yeah.”
“There’s some information I can give you, of course. You’ll have to give me a few days to look into the military colleges. I want to make sure that you get the best possible outcome from this if you do decide to go down this route.”
“Thank you.”