Over the Edge

Ch.22-Tug-of-war

~Rhys~

"I can't do this."

I rolled my eyes, yanking again at the handle of my car that she had locked. "Come on, Emma. Now's not the time to turn into a pansy-ass."

She glared at me through the window. "I am not a pansy-ass."

"Right now you are."

She groaned, head thunking back against the seat. "I bet they all heard what happened. What will they think of me? What if our school counselor comes and asks for a psychological evaluation every other class? I couldn't handle that."

I stopped for a moment, face screwing up in thought. "We have a school counselor?"

She whapped her hand against the glass. "Not the point, Richardson!"

I sighed. "Then get out here, Hall. While I don't give a single flying fuck for my attendance record, I happen to know you don't feel the same way."

She shot me a dry look. "Maybe I don't care anymore."

"Ha. That's funny-but seriously. Get out."

She sighed and did so, slowly sliding out of the seat. I could see the unease and trepidation written all over her face. She reached out instinctively and hesitantly took my hand. I didn't pretend to think I could understand women. In fact, I didn't even try to go out of my way to do so. I had harbored some sort of dislike for them for so long, I was realizing, born from the shit actions of my estranged mother. I had mirrored Rico's man-whore actions and that became the only interaction I welcomed with the opposite sex. But Emma was different. Everything about her and her situation was different. So I pushed down the perversity I felt toward touching others and against my greater urges gave her an encouraging squeeze. She relaxed the slightest bit.

We started toward the front of the school. I walked with nonchalance, shooting anybody who tried to make eye contact with me the usual scathing glare that made most grown people shit their pants. I had honed and refined the skill over the years. Adults could fake it, but give them an independent delinquent with a past of rebellion and threats of anarchy, and they would run for the hills.

I couldn't say I wasn't shocked when Emma had come to me the night before, the usual emotional wreck of a self she had been lately. The last thing I expected was her begging and pleading for friendship, of which not even I was above denying a recovering addict.

"They're staring," the aforementioned girl hissed from beside. "Oh, this was so not a good idea. Take me home."

I rolled my eyes. "See, now your pansy-ass is showing again. Chin up, Hall."

Emma was a naturally stubborn and willing girl, and so it was unnerving to say the least to see her so easily broken down.

She shrank instinctively closer into my side, and that caused a weird protective urge to race through me. It was sudden, like an electric shock, making my nerve ends stand on end. The feeling was strange. Nobody had ever relied on me for anything before. Nobody had ever really needed me.

Emma needed me.

I wasn't sure exactly how that made me feel.

"Oh, no. Avoid those two at all costs. Please, please, please," she pleaded, and when I saw that the two in particular were Rose and Luke, I had no problem steering her the opposite way.

"Emma?"

Naturally, she stopped walking when her name was called. And because her fingers were wrapped deadly tight around mine, I came to a teetering halt as well. We turned to face the girl who had spoken. I kind of recognized her. I didn't make it a habit of learning everybody's name (it was a well-known fact I wanted to learn as little as possible) but with her square glasses and freckled face, she looked like the sympathetic kind. And if the way Emma tensed was any indication, she thought so, too.