Unthinkable (Tate Langdon)

005

September 8th, 1993.

Sunday, for Evangeline, had been spent sleeping off the after effects of whatever had happened on Saturday.

She had been dizzy and hungover the entire day, never once leaving her bed for more than a trip to the bathroom after Tate had dropped her off. If her mother had noticed her absence, the woman's own hangover had prevented her from caring too much.

By Monday, she was feeling much more like herself, if only a bit shaken up.

How could she have been so stupid as to think a boy was asking her out with good intentions, after the way everyone had treated her?

He probably thought she was an easy target, a lonely little freak who was desperate for attention, who would leap at the first guy who looked her way. Or, that she was someone no one would mind that he hurt.

Either version, the idea of it made her blood boil.

She hoped to make it through the day without running into Adam at all, not entirely sure what would happen if she was confronted with him before she had a chance to calm her anger.

She made it almost to the end of the day successfully avoiding him.

When his face appeared as she slammed shut her locker that afternoon, she felt the color seep out of her skin. It was all she could do not to punch him directly in the face.

"Stay away from me," she ordered him in a warning tone, turning on her heel and making her way down the hall.

"Evie, wait," he called after her, darting in and out of the crowd as he tried to keep up. He finally managed get ahead of her and stopped, his arms up in a move of surrender.

"Evie, I-"

"One, my name is Eve, not Evie," she insisted sharply, her posture defensive, "and two, what part of stay away from me are you too stupid to understand?"

"Listen, I know you're pissed, but you gotta believe me," he pressed his luck and kept talking, walking backward to keep from being trampled. "Your little boyfriend's a liar, and he needs his ass kicked. I didn't do anything to you."

Her hands balled into fists at her sides, mouth set in a thin, hard line.

"Watch your mouth," she hissed. "Don't talk about Tate like that."

She realized seconds too late that she'd forgotten to deny that he was her boyfriend; he certainly wasn't, but somehow, the need to say as much slipped her mind.

"Oh, Christ. You're into him. Unbelievable!" he groaned, rolling his eyes. "He's the one who told me where to find you. I'm telling you, Eve, this was a set up."

"You," she sharply turned the corner, backing him against a locker as she loomed in his face with a dark smile, "are a liar. You are scum. You have about three seconds to split before I rip that damned ring right out of your nose."

"Real classy. We'll see who's laughing when I break his stupid face," he threatened, still remaining still.

"One... Two..."

He scoffed and walked away, leaving Eve with a smug smile etched into her features. It only began to fade when she started to consider that maybe he was serious in what he'd promised to do to Tate.

She vowed to put it out of mind just long enough to get through German without a major freakout and deal with it afterwards.

---

Tate was pretty pleased with himself throughout the day on Monday.

It was a rare mood to find him in, but he had little reason to feel any other way.

After all, his plans had gone off without a hitch, down to the most minute detail.

"Thank you. For everything, I mean," she'd said as he helped her inside. He'd been caught off guard by the crushing hug she'd enveloped him in, pressing herself into his chest. Her hair smelled like cigarettes and lavender.

The memory of that moment replayed again and again in his head throughout the follwing day, cementing a smile on his lips that lasted well into Monday.

Most of the day was uneventful, more of the same as it had been for years on end, until just before the end of it.

"Hey, asshole," someone called out, shoving him forward and making him stumble over his own feet.

It wasn't unheard of for anyone to call him that way with no discernable reason, but when he realized who the attacker was, he supposed it wasn't entirely unjustified.

Adam stood there, eyes slits of anger, as a small crowd formed to see what would happen next.

Tate wasn't much in the mood for a fight, but it appeared he wouldn't have much of a choice in the matter if he was to keep up appearances. As far as anyone else knew, Adam had no reason to be pissy with anyone other than that he'd been caught, and Tate had every right to be furious.

"What do you want, you sleazebag?" he asked boredly, blonde hair shaggy and obscuring his vision slightly.

"For you to tell the truth," Adam snapped, not backing down a millimeter. He pointed at the crowd around them. "Tell them all the truth."

"Okay, okay," he muttered, raising a hand to indicate his surrender and turning to face the crowd. He sighed dramatically and flicked his hair out of his face, hitching his backpack further up on one shoulder.

"You want me to tell them the truth? The truth is that you drugged a girl's drink, hoping to get laid or some sick shit, and I messed up your plans. Real sorry I screwed up your weekend, but-"

Tate was cut off by a sharp blow to the jaw.

It happened quick and dirty like most real life fights tended to do, fleeting moments of gaining the upper hand punctuated by the delayed, white bursts of pain that accompanied being stricken in the head.

He felt his lip get split with the final blow before someone was dragging Adam off of him, the weight of the boy being lifted allowing his lungs to inflate properly so that he could drag in a sore, wheezy breath.

"What is wrong with you?" a familiar voice shrieked. He looked up from his place on the ground to see Evangeline pinning his attacker to a locker. She was evidently quite strong and fiesty for such a small thing as she was.

He watched with great fascination, never having seen a single soul stand up for him in all his life.

"This isn't any of your business," Adam barked, subdued in his anger when speaking to a girl. "Back off."

"Bullshit," she growled, still gripping the lapels of the other boy's leather jacket. "If you ever come near me or Tate, ever again, I will end you. Do you hear me?"

She gave him one more cold look before reluctantly backing off, looking as though she had to drag herself away for his own safety.

Adam muttered something about freaks under his breath and shook his head. Eve knelt next to tate, her eyes hard and angry as she looked up at the crowd of onlookers.

"What are you looking at?" she snapped. "Get a life, all of you!"

Tate looked up at Eve standing over him - her eyes alight with worry, her full lips pursed in an expression of concern, and all for him. It was a feeling that rivaled any high he'd experienced, even with the pain radiating from his injuries.

"C'mon," she insisted, offering him a hand and helping to haul him to his feet, "let's get out of here and get you cleaned up."

He complied with her help and followed her as she led him by the elbow down the hall, but couldn't resist looking back over his shoulder to meet Adam's eyes.

Tate smiled widely, blood staining his white teeth, and said nothing. He didn't have to; the message was clear.

"I win".

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