Runaways, page 1
Contents
1. Raelynn
2. Lawson
3. Raelynn
4. Lawson
5. Raelynn
6. Lawson
7. Raelynn
8. Raelynn
9. Lawson
10. Raelynn
11. Lawson
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48. Raelynn
Note from the Author
Freshmen Year
* * *
This is just great. Exactly what I need my first week at a new school.
I look at the words written with a Sharpie on my locker—SLUT—in great big bold, capital letters.
Original. I know.
I hear snickers and look over at a group of girls who haven’t liked me from the first day I walked into their high school. Their ringleader, Tammy, walks over to me with her pack of three behind her, placing a finger on her chin. “Yikes. That is absolutely horrifying.”
“You wouldn’t know anything about it though, right?” I ask, my tone bristling with anger, but I know I’m outnumbered. I know she takes me in, with my designer jeans, backpack, perfectly manicured nails, and overpriced haircut, hating me. Hating everything about me.
She adjusts her tattered backpack, and I notice her jeans are ripped, but I don’t think they came that way or are worn for style. I think they’re probably hand-me-downs. “Me?” she feigns innocence. “Now why would I know anything about that?”
“I don’t know. But you do seem awfully pleased about it.”
Her black hair is pulled into a tight ponytail, and I’d be lying if I said her wicked, hateful grin made her ugly. She isn’t. She’s beautiful, at least on the outside. Her Texas accent is thick but not a slow drawl, and her voice is raspy. And I know she’s been queen bee around here for a while. “Well, it can’t be untrue, right? I mean, you spend an awful lot of time in your stepdaddy’s office, don’t you? Tell me . . .” She leans into me. “Have you been a bad, bad girl?”
My stomach lurches at the thought. I hate my stepfather. I hate that to most, he’s probably good-looking. That he’s only twenty-eight, and I’m almost fifteen. That my mother is forty-five. That he’s closer to my age than hers.
“No.” My jaw is clenched tight as I ball my fists at my sides. “I haven’t.”
Her jade-colored eyes roll. “Whatever. Principal lover.”
“I don’t love him. I don’t even like him.”
Again with another eyeroll as she points at the ugly word on my locker. “Look, your locker doesn’t lie.”
I take a step closer to her, even though, let’s be honest here—she’s a tough tomboy-type, and I’m a soft, pampered rich girl—I have no shot at intimidating her. “Don’t ever do this again. I’m not a slut.”
“Whatever. I’ve seen the way your daddy looks at you.”
“He’s not my dad.”
She laughs, tossing her head back. “Sorry. Stepdaddy.”
“What’s going on?” I hear a voice behind us. It’s masculine but not overly deep.
Tammy moves behind me, causing me to turn around and follow her with my gaze as she curls her hand into the crook of Lawson’s arm. I’ve never spoken to him, but it’s been made pretty clear over the last week that Lawson is the king to Tammy’s queen. “Oh, nothing. Just having a little fun. You gonna walk me to class?”
I notice her accent seems thicker now. Lawson, however, doesn’t abide by her wishes. His gray eyes look at my locker and then directly at me. “Who did that?”
I shrug it off, not wanting to attract more attention. “I don’t know.” My eyes narrow on Tammy, but I don’t accuse her of anything in front of him. It’s pointless. It’s been made glaringly clear that I’m an outsider in this small Texas town, and they want nothing to do with me here.
Just four more years.
You can do this, Raelynn.
“Let’s go, Law. I can’t be late again, or I’ll get detention.”
I try not to let tears well up in my eyes, but my eyes won’t listen. Being called a “slut” hurts. It shouldn’t. I know I’m not one, but it still hurts.
“Nah, you go ahead.” I look up at Lawson, shocked. He only has a few inches on us, but I still have to tilt my head up because my chin was down.
“What?” Tammy places a hand on her hip. “Lawson . . .”
He doesn’t seem bothered by her irritation. “Go. Your mom will kill you if you get another detention.”
She huffs, but her minions follow behind her as they tear off down the hall. I can’t look at Lawson. Now that the mean girls are gone, my emotions grab hold of me, and I turn back to my locker, fiddling with the lock. But his warm hand covering mine stops me.
I turn slowly to look at him, and I know I’d think he was cute if it weren’t for his association with the devil herself. He has dark hair that’s long enough on top to have a slight wave to it and beautiful gray eyes that shimmer with playfulness. His lips are pretty. I know that’s probably not the best way to describe a guy’s lips, but whatever. They’re pink and full and usually turned up in a smirk. But now they’re pouty as he studies me. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” The tears in my eyes betray my lie, and I know it. He knows it too.
“It’s okay not to be.” He nods toward my locker. “That’s messed up.”
I choke on a sob, so tired already, and I’m only a teenager. “I’m not,” I sob again. “I’m really not.”
He shrugs his shoulder, lifting his backpack hanging off of it as he does. “I wouldn’t care if you were.”
I actually laugh at that, and he takes my hand, shocking me, but I don’t pull away. He walks us toward the bathrooms, and I have no idea what he’s planning until he stops. “Wait here.”
I do because I’m kind of stunned by his kindness. He goes into the boy’s room and then comes back with a few paper towels, handing one to me.
I take it and wipe at my eyes. “Thank you.”
He smiles sweetly, and I notice for the first time he has a dimple in his right cheek. “It can be rough to be new here, I know, but it’ll be okay.”
I sniff and wipe my nose with the paper towel. Super attractive. “Right. Only four more years.”
He looks chagrined and places a hand on my shoulder. “No, don’t do that. You belong here just as much as them. You just have to let them know it doesn’t bother you.”
“It does.”
He thinks it over. “Yeah, you’re right. It bothers me too. I guess I meant you should let them know it didn’t break you.”
We walk back to my locker, and I open it successfully this time. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
He shrugs, and it’s cute how shy he looks right now. “I know what it’s like to be judged for my last name.”
“And that is?”
He smirks now. “Davis. You haven’t heard about me from your stepdad yet?”
I cringe again at the thought of my stepfather, Colin Da Silva, or Principal Da Silva as he’s known here. “No. But I try to avoid talking to him all I can.”
I grab my books and slide them into my backpack. “Yeah, can’t blame you there. How did a Sanders end up here? In this tiny little nothing town.”
Sanders. God, I hate that people know my last name, even here. My great grandfather was an oil tycoon. And boy, does he own a lot of Texas, so I shouldn’t be too surprised. But this town of three thousand, that’s dying out and long dried-up of oil? You’d think they wouldn’t know me.
“My mother. She fell in love.”
“With Da Silva?”
I nod, holding back a giggle at the way his nose crinkles. “I know, right? Horrible taste.”
He laughs at that. “Come on, I’ll walk you to class.”
We have first period together, so I don’t argue with him, even though we’re both late. “Thank you for being nice, despite who my mother married over the summer.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Still.” I stop as we make it to the door of our first class. “Thank you.”
“What are you doing after school?”
The question takes me aback for a minute, but I regain my wits. “Nothing.”
“Wrong. You’re coming with me to Richard’s.”
“Richard’s? Who’s that?”
He laughs at me like I’m totally ridiculous. “Oh boy, Raelynn. You have a lot to learn about this town.”
I laugh but don’t argue. I’ve only lived here for three months and haven’t really been out of the house. “How do we get to this Richard’s?”
“We walk.”
I instantly know my mother won’t allow it, no matter how close it is. “How far is it?”
“Just a couple of blocks. It’s a hangout place. Tammy will be there, along with my older brother, Nash, and his friends and some other people from school. It’s the place to be on a Friday afternoon.”
“I um . . .” I hate how weak my voice sounds. “I don’t want to be anywhere she is. And I um . . .” Well, if he doesn’t hate me yet, he will now. “A car picks me up from school. If I’m not there, I’ll be in trouble.”
His dark eyebrow arches in amusement. “A car?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. So can they drive you there? I can give you the address. Remember what I said about not letting them break you. You showing up there today, that will be really cool.”
I have no idea why, but I trust him. “Okay.” I bite my bottom lip. “You could come with me.”
He instantly recoils. “In the fancy car?”
“Someone has to tell the driver where to go.”
His eyes search mine, and we make a silent agreement.
I’ll go to this hangout with his horrible friends if he rides in a car that makes him uncomfortable.
“Deal.”
We go into class, not avoiding the wrath of the older male teacher but also not getting detention.
My mind isn’t in class though. It’s on this afternoon and wondering how I’m going to make it through.
* * *
“Are you kidding me?”
I try not to roll my eyes at Tammy as she stands next to me, giving me a lecture about inviting the new girl to Richard’s. “What?”
“What? How could you invite the slut?”
“Don’t call her that.” I hate that word. It’s gross. And Tammy knows that. I wouldn’t let anyone call her that, and I won’t let her call anyone else that.
She pouts, but I don’t care. “You cannot be serious? You know who she is, right? A Sanders? Flaunting her money like we’re nothing.”
“She’s not like that.” Granted, I’ve only known her for a week and only just talked to her today for the first time, but still, I know she isn’t. She doesn’t seem proud of her family’s wealth. She even seemed sheepish when she invited me to climb into the shiny black town car that was waiting outside our crappy, rundown school this afternoon.
I tried not to make her feel weird, but the ride was odd. I’d never been in such a new, fancy car before.
“What are you, like, wanting to date her now?” she huffs, and my eyes move to Raelynn as she stands in line at the front of our hangout. Richard’s is a pizza place with arcade games and a pool table and pretty much the coolest thing in town. She insisted on grabbing us some food and drinks, so I let her, sensing she wasn’t comfortable with my group of friends and wanting a break.
“No. I just think she’s had a rough day. You know, since some horrible girls wrote on her locker.”
Tammy folds her arms over her chest defensively. “Law, she had it coming. You know she’s screwing her stepdad.”
“I don’t know that.” I’ve heard the rumors. There are always rumors in a small town. Rumors that her mother lost all her money and had to move here. Rumors that Raelynn is pregnant with Da Silva’s baby, but he married her mother so they can raise the baby. Rumors that Da Silva is sleeping with the mother and the daughter.
It’s all sick and undoubtably all untrue.
“Whatever. Look at her, she’s slutty.”
I roll my eyes at that, looking over at Raelynn. She has long blond hair that I’m not sure is naturally wavy or if she curls it. Her face has no makeup like most of the girls I know. Her eyes are a pretty light blue, and she’s thin but not a stick figure. She’s wearing jeans and a sleeveless lacy purple top.
She screams sophistication and elegance, but she also has a wide-eyed innocence that’s far from a promiscuous vibe. And like I told her earlier today, I wouldn’t care if she did. “She’s not. And you need to stop because it’s gross.”
“Whatever, Law.” She leaves, going back to her group. But before I can move to Raelynn, who’s still standing in line, I’m blocked by my older brother, Nash, and his friend Elias.
“What the hell is your little girlfriend’s problem now?” Nash is grinning, and I sigh, annoyed by both him and Tammy.
“She isn’t my girlfriend. And she’s mad I brought the new girl here.”
Nash and Elias look behind them to where I’m looking, and then both look back at me wide-eyed. Elias lets out a whistle. “You brought little miss rich bitch here?”
“She’s not a bitch,” I bristle, sick of this town. I have been for a while now.
Nash ruffles my hair playfully. “Aw, does my little brother have a crush on the rich girl?”
“Stop.” I swat him away. “That’s not all she is, and no. We’re friends. Tammy and her friends were terrible to her today. I thought I could cheer her up.”
Nash and Elias share a look and laugh at my expense. Nash then grabs me in a headlock, tucking me under his big arm and pissing me off. “Be careful, little brother.”
I finally shove free and try to smooth my hair out. “I’m pretty sure I’ll be okay.”
He looks serious now, too serious for Nash. “I mean it, okay?” He keeps his voice low, looking over at Raelynn. “Girls like that . . . They only want us for the story. It’s all about their fling with the bad boy from the wrong side of the tracks.”
There’s pain in his eyes when he says that, and Elias looks angry for him, so he must know what my brother is talking about. “Look, I don’t know what some rich girl did to you, but I’m fine. We’re friends. I just don’t like seeing her sad. That’s all.”
“Right.” He looks at Raelynn and then back at me. “Just be careful. That girl has chaos written all over her.”
He shoves my shoulder with his hand and then winks before he and Elias leave together. I stare over at Raelynn, not seeing a hint of chaos. They’re ridiculous.
I finally make my way over to her just as she’s ordering, and when they tell her the total she hands them a black card. The girl behind the counter tells her what I already know. Cash only.
Raelynn blanches. “Oh. I, ummm . . .”
I smile and hand the girl a ten from my pocket before collecting the change. Raelynn looks horrified as we gather our drinks and the two slices of pizza. “Thank you. I’ll pay you back.”
“I’m not worried about it. It’s okay.” Although I probably should be, I don’t like the uncomfortable look on her face.
“I never carry cash.”
“Yeah, this place is a little behind the times, but I kind of like it.”
We take a seat at one of the smaller tables near the booth where most of my friends are sitting. I don’t think she’s ready to join them, and I can feel Tammy’s heated glare on me from here. “I like it too.”
“Yeah?” I take a sip of my soda. “Good.”
“Your friends hate me,” she says, not playing fake at all.
“They don’t know you.”
“You don’t either.”
I settle in my seat and take a big, totally unpolite bite of pizza, chewing it and then say, “So, tell me about you.”
She looks nervous now as she picks at her pizza. “Not much to tell. I’ll be fifteen in three weeks. I’m a freshman at a tiny little school where most people hate me. My mom . . .” Her eyes darken, and she looks away. “She doesn’t really like me either.”
I didn’t expect that at all. “What? How could your own mom not like you?”
Her eyes are watery, but she doesn’t look at me. “I don’t know. I think it probably started with her own father not liking her.”
She turns back to look at me, wiping at her cheek and picking at her pizza again. “I’m gonna need more.”
