Home > EVIL QUEEN : A Dark High School Elite Romance(4)

EVIL QUEEN : A Dark High School Elite Romance(4)
Author: Rebel Hart

“You think they should get more chances to do it?”

“Nikita, you’re starting to piss me off,” Jaxon said. “You know that’s not what I fucking mean.”

“Then what do you mean?” I asked.

“I mean, people like your dad, lock them up and fucking throw away the key, but people like Nathan? He’s not a bad guy, and you know that. Is there any reality in which people make that mistake, as horrible as it is, and then pay their penance and get to move on and be in happy, healthy relationships? Does this one thing just define him for the rest of his life? Fuck how smart he is. Fuck how much he loves his friends. Fuck his sense of humor. Fuck his business prowess. His dad applied more and more pressure until he broke, and now that one thing just defines who he is forever? There’s nothing left for him? Eighteen years old, and he’s done?”

“He made that choice,” I replied, a lump of emotion settling in my throat. “I…” The image of me standing in front of an obviously cracking Nathan, telling him to punch me or fuck me or do whatever he had to do to alleviate his stress, whipped across my brain. “There were other options.”

Jaxon started to gently rub my head, and I could see why Colette called him to comfort her. He was oddly good at it. “Are there only two extremes in this situation? There’s no redemption?”

My parents popped into my brain then. Poor, sobbing young Nikita, begging her mom to listen and cowering from her dad. I would never want my mom nor my dad to be happy for as long as either of them lived. With everything that had gone down with Cherri and Deon, I could only imagine Cherri felt the same.

“For Cherri’s sake and mine, I certainly hope not.”

“Damn,” Jaxon said. “Then, I’m sorry, but you need to start moving on.”

“Yeah,” I replied, tears coming loose and sliding down my cheeks. “I don’t know how, though.”

“It’s gonna be a teaching experience for us both,” Jaxon said, “but you know I’m here for you, right?”

I nodded, smiling up at my best friend. “Yeah. I know.”

He glanced from me to just past me where his car was sitting. “I don’t like seeing the people I love hurting.”

Part of me wanted to ask if that was Jaxon’s way of admitting he was in love with Colette, but I decided not to disrupt the moment any further. I laid my head back on Jaxon’s knee and let him slowly and softly caress my head until we eventually had to leave for whatever hell-storm awaited us at school.

 

 

3

 

 

Nathan

 

 

Where Kyle and I grew up in South Postings was much different from where Deon and Cherri grew up in North Postings. South Postings was the posh part of town compared to the more slum-like surroundings of North Postings, and Kyle was right. If he’d invited me to a diner there six months ago, I absolutely would not have gone. I, not unlike most rich kids living in their own world, bought into the narrative that North Postings was too dangerous to go into, but then my father tried to frame my brother for murder, killed my mother, tried to kill me, and threatened to hurt the people I loved most all in the span of about two days.

Funny how life puts things into perspective.

My car was far from being the nicest one on the pothole-ridden street that I parked on in front of the small mom-and-pop diner that Kyle directed me to, and unlike the way people often stared at me regardless of where I went in South Postings, as I climbed out of my car, those who could see me didn’t give me more than a quick glance of awareness. There was the laughter of people standing around despite the frigid temperatures outside, and when I passed them by, they all smiled and nodded. No one ever did that in South Postings.

“New around here?” a man with pale skin and rosy-red cheeks asked as I passed.

I glanced down at my designer jeans, Doc Martens boots, and flannel under an expensive down jacket. “What gave me away?”

“You’re Kyle’s friend, right?” he asked.

My eyes widened a little bit. “Yeah. How’d you know?”

The man nodded toward the diner. “This is my place. His mama and I go way back.” He held out a hand. “I’m Gerald.”

I took Gerald’s hand and shook it, and the firm welcome in his grip was comforting after spending months alone in my cold mansion. “Nice to meet you. I’m Nathan.”

“Yeah.” A frown crossed his face. “Listen, I know you been through some stuff. Kyle didn’t tell me everything, but he told me enough. Said you need some of ol’ Pop Gerald’s comfort food. If you ever need anything,”—he motioned to the group of people around him, an eclectic mix of older and younger people of all types—“we got you covered here.”

For the first time in a very long time, I smiled. In my world, strangers didn’t give a shit about you. It was strange.

“Thanks,” I said.

Gerald tapped my shoulder with his hand. “Head on in. Kyle’s at his favorite booth about halfway back. They’ll take your order, and I’ll hit the grill for ya. Order whatever you want. On me.”

My jaw dropped. “Uh, I’m really not trying to brag or anything, but I can pay for it.”

He laughed. “I know you can. It’s not about the money. Sometimes, we just need to look out for each other, you know?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Walking away, I almost expected to hear an insult grumbled under his breath or a judgment thrown from one of the other people he was talking to, but he huffed, “Yeah, that’s a good kid. I feel bad,” and everyone agreed.

Was this the care and concern of other people that I was missing, locked up in my world in South Postings?

Bells on the door to the diner jingled as I opened it and entered the small restaurant. A few tables were scattered in front of me, and to my right, booths were situated all down the wall toward the back of the quaint diner. I could throw a ball from one end to the other, and because it was so early, there weren’t many people inside. As I scanned the few occupants, a hand went into the air, and I noticed Kyle sitting about halfway back along the row of booths. He smiled as I walked over and stood up to greet me with a hug. His chocolate skin was well covered under a black bomber jacket and a black beanie, but I could see that he was wearing one of his designer sweaters underneath and had a classic pair of tan Primo Castagna high-tops on his feet. His wrists and fingers were still covered in all kinds of jewelry, and a set of wide-rimmed glasses still sat on his nose.

Why I was anticipating seeing something other than the typical Kyle, I wasn’t sure, but it was good to see he was still really and truly himself.

“Hey, man,” he said. “I’m glad you came.”

We broke our embrace and dropped into opposing sides of the booth. “Yeah, me too.”

Kyle was my best friend. We didn’t meet until Deon came to live with me, but when he left, all of the friends we’d made together ditched me except for Kyle. He said that I was a good guy and that he liked being friends with me. Gaining and then losing Deon gave me more than a few trust issues. By that point, I already assumed that everyone who was sticking around me was doing so for some benefit, even though Kyle and Nikita both had long proven that it wasn’t the case.

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