A Look Back: Rennillia Series - Prequel (11 page)

Giving me a dirty look, he said, “Why don’t you get your own?”

Smiling wide, I confirmed, “Because I like stealing off your tray,” as I nudged him.

We both laughed a little which was nice considering what he was going through.

Then Mike Perdue walked up to our table, saying, “Well aren’t ya’ll cozy.”

Hert ignored him continuing to eat as I stated, “We are, thank you.”

“Jackson know about this?” he asked, implying I was doing something wrong.

Narrowing my eyes at him, I replied, “That I’m at lunch?”

Giving me a bad look, Mike snapped, “With him,” before saying, “I mean it’s bad enough you’re a…” stopping, as Hert stood up.

“Hert,” I snapped, hoping he would sit back down.

Mike turned to meet Hert as he made his way around the table.

Taking a breath, because I knew what was fixing to happen, I said, “Hert, don’t.”

Then Mike teased, “Yeah Scotty don’t,” in a made up voice.

Looking at Mike, I assured, “I’m tryin’ to help you out, stupid.”

“Why? Is he crazy like his mother?” Mike spouted.

At that point, all I could do was take a step back and shake my head.

Walking right up to Mike, Hert leaned in whispering something to him. Mike’s expression was instantly furious as he swung and punched Hert in the face. Looking directly at Mike, as if his punch did nothing, Hert smirked and raised his eyebrow at him. Mike started to swing again but this time Hert caught the front of his shirt and punched Mike four times in the face. With a heavy sigh, I walked around the table to Hert as he let go of Mike, dropping him on the floor. People were rushing over hollering, trying to help him up. Some were concerned and some were shouting ‘did you see that?’ I have to admit, if you hadn’t seen it before, watching Hert fight was pretty impressive.

We only made it a few steps when one of the teachers shouted, “You two! Principal’s Office! Now!”

I glared at Hert first then followed him to the Principal’s Office.

We sat there waiting to see the Principal for an hour and a half before Hert and I were called in together. Wondering why the two of us were being called in together, I hoped I was just there as a witness. The secretary led us in then told us to sit and wait again. Thirty minutes later, our Principal Mrs. Whimer walked in.

With an irritated expression, she sat down behind her desk saying, “You know, it’s always the two of you. When one of you gets in trouble, the other’s usually not far behind.”

Adjusting myself in my seat, I sat up as tall as possible placing my hands in my lap.

Mrs. Whimer continued, saying, “Both of you seem to be in the same trouble you’re always in. Scott, you can’t seem to stop fighting and Rennillia, you can’t keep your mouth shut. And I’m guessing the fight was over Rennillia and your little display in class had something to do with Scott.”

I couldn’t believe Mrs. Burnum actually wrote me up.

Shuffling papers around, she said, “Let’s see, ok. Scott you have got to stop letting people hit you in the face just so you can beat them up. However, since you didn’t throw the first punch and in light of your current situation, we’re just going to let this go without punishment.” Then, looking at me, she shook her head, saying, “I’m having a little trouble with yours. I understand that you made Brendy Willers cry.”

I could feel Hert staring at me as she continued, “It says here on your write-up that when asked what you were talking about you stood in front of the class and said you were explaining the benefits of abstinence to Brendy and then proceeded to disrespectfully announce to the class that everyone calls her Lucy.”

All of the sudden I heard Hert start clearing his throat before coughing, then covering his face with his arms, and outright laughing.

Shocked, I fussed, “Hert shut up!”

Shaking her head at us, Mrs. Whimer asked, “Why would you say that everyone calls her Lucy?” as Hert laughed even harder.

Finally, I watched her face turn bright red as she got it.

Pushing away from her desk, Mrs. Whimer stood up and fussed, “That’s it both of you out!” as Hert and I stared at her she pointed to the door, saying, “Out of my office now! If you two get in anymore trouble this year I’ll suspend you both!”

Quickly getting up Hert and I hurried out.

Stepping out of the Main Office and into the hallway, I smacked Hert on the arm.

Still laughing and shaking his head at me, he gave me a little shove back, saying, “I can’t believe you said that.”

“Well she is,” I stated before fussing, “I can’t believe you started laughing in Mrs. Whimer’s office.”

Trying to catch his breath, he said, “I couldn’t help it.”

Mulling over our visit in the Principal’s Office, I questioned, “I wonder if she kicked us out so she could laugh?”

“Probably,” he blurted before insisting, “'Cause that was funny.”

Shaking my head at him, I asked, “Since we only have thirty minutes left, you wanna blow off last period?”

“Sure,” he agreed before informing, “I have to meet Mr. Roberts and his lawyer at the hospital to sign some papers anyway.”

Remembering Emerson left, I asked, “You wanna wait with me outside until Emerson gets here?”

“He’s not here?” Hert questioned.

Shaking my head, I shared, “No, he left earlier and said he’d be back to get me.”

Nodding, he said, “I’ll wait until school lets out then I have to meet Mr. Roberts.”

Nodding back, I followed him outside.

We stood outside by Hert’s car until the bell rang. Watching students pour out of the school, Hert said he would see me at Emerson’s later and left. I made my way over to Emerson’s parking spot. It only took a minute before Jackson met up with me.

Pulling me against him, Jackson quickly kissed my cheek before asking, “You’re not going to Roberts’ house?”

Nodding, I smiled as I replied, “He had to leave earlier but he’s coming back to get me.”

“Do you want me to wait with you?” he asked smiling wide.

Wrapping my arms tight around him, I said, “I want you to hurry up and get done at Coach Caffrey’s so you can come see me at Emerson’s.”

“You do?” he questioned, before I whispered, “I missed you too.”

Jackson’s smile was incredibly wide as he pulled a black sharpie out of his back pocket.

When he pulled the front left side of my sweater back, I fussed, “What are you doing?”

Pulling the cap off with his teeth, he declared, “Claiming you.”

Making a face, I asked, “Claiming me?” as Jackson wrote his name on the inside of my shoulder, right above my heart.

Nodding, he whispered, “As my own.”

His words caused me to blush slightly. Whether it was things Jackson said or did he always seemed to get the best of me.

In an effort to have the same effect on him, I pulled the sharpie out of his hand and leaned forward writing Ren&Jacks on the left inside shoulder of his hoodie, before declaring, “There. Now I’ve claimed you.”

I noticed him fidget slightly as he looked down at it.

Realizing after the fact, his was permanent and mine wasn’t, I hoped he wasn’t mad. Jackson quickly kissed my cheek then wrapped his arms around my neck.

“This was my favorite jacket,” he informed.

I started to feel bad, as I worried I thought, how mad could he really be if he still kissed me.

Then I started to panic as he kissed me right under my ear before whispering, “But now, I think…I might love it.”

I couldn’t move or speak. All I kept thinking was, ‘did he just say that?’ Not wanting to answer my own question, I thought, was he putting it out there hoping I would say it? Or maybe he was just reassuring me that he wasn’t mad, I permanently marked his favorite jacket. My mind raced and my heart was doing the same. Starting to feel like I was going to hyperventilate, I was relieved when Emerson pulled up.

I told Jackson I would see him later, without mentioning anything else. Hopping into Emerson’s car, I couldn’t help hoping the rest of my day would be a little less complicated. As we pulled out of the school parking lot and headed towards his house, I noticed Emerson looked not quite himself.

“Is everything okay?” I ask, already knowing it wasn’t.

He started to nod then revealed, “My parents are moving to Spain.”

“No!” I blurted as my eyes welled up with tears.

“I really thought they were only looking,” he apologized.

Shaking my head, I cried, “But I don’t want you to go.”

Reaching over he held my hand and shared, “I’m not.”

Instantly relieved, I hugged his arm. Then, the more I thought about it, I started to get angry.

Letting go of his arm, I snapped, “Wait, they’re just going to leave you!”

“Do you want me to go with them?” he asked with a sigh.

Taking a deep breath, I blurted, “No!” before saying, “I just can’t believe they’re going to abandon you like that.”

With a little smile he wrapped his hand back around mine, assuring, “My parents are not abandoning me. I am almost eighteen and Fidora is staying to look after the house.”

Mentally disagreeing with him, I dropped it.

When we arrived at Emerson’s, we waited outside the back door. I couldn’t understand why he seemed so sad or why he didn’t want to go inside. Sliding my arm around his waist, I leaned into him. Wondering if maybe he wanted to go with them, I started to feel bad for needing him so much.

Looking up at him, I assured, “You won’t be by yourself because I’ll come stay with you all the time,” then chirped, “I’ll take turns with Helena.”

As his face fell, I knew what was wrong.

Shaking his head, Emerson shared, “We got into an argument and she broke up with me. That’s why I was late picking you up.”

“What was the fight about?” I asked, thinking, ‘I never liked her in the first place.’

Shrugging he frowned, explaining, “She said that I was wasting a great opportunity. That she had always dreamed of visiting Spain and if I went she could talk her parents into letting her visit. I thought she would be happy I was staying.”

Unable to help myself, I griped, “I knew it. I knew she was just using you. You know your mother didn’t like her either and…”

Emerson stopped me, stating, “I know that no one liked her, alright.”

Then it hit me, I was doing the exact same thing to him that Hert did to me over Jackson.

“But you liked her,” I sighed before saying, “I’m sorry Em.”

Forcing a smile, he said, “Yea.”

Taking a deep breath, I assured, “You’ll find the right girl and besides, you will always have me.”

Looking down at me, he asked, “Will I?”

I wrapped my arms around him, replying, “I love you Em and I’m always going to be here, no matter what happens.”

“I love you too, Ren,” he said kissing the side of my head as he hugged me back.

Walking into the house the kitchen was empty.

Mrs. Roberts was seated in a chair in the living room. As we walked in, she politely smiled. Emerson and I sat down on the couch. Wondering why she was just sitting there, I noticed although there were no signs of crying on her face, there was a tissue in her hand.

“Rennillia dear, we are having a dinner next Friday after Emerson’s last game. Will you be able to join us?” Mrs. Robert invited.

With a polite nod, I replied, “Yes ma’am.”

She then politely offered, “You are welcome to bring Jackson.”

The three of us sat quietly in the living room until Mr. Roberts and Hert walked in the front door. Mrs. Roberts was instantly on her feet. I assumed she was going to greet Mr. Roberts then to my surprise, she stepped in front of Hert instead.

Placing her hand on his arm, she consoled, “Scott, I am terribly sorry for you,” in a soft voice.

Hert’s expression was reserved as he replied, “Yes ma’am, thank you.”

As she stepped away his eyes revealed how stunned he was at her sympathy.

Mr. and Mrs. Roberts made their way upstairs and Hert sat down next to me on the couch. I nudged him slightly hoping he would look at me. When all he did was scowl, I wondered if everything had finally hit him.

“Are you still alright?” I asked.

Nodding, he replied, “Mr. Roberts offered me a job.”

Taking a deep breath, I questioned, “A job doing what?”

Shrugging, he answered, “Stuff for The Office, after school and on the weekends.”

Confused, I asked, “MR Industries?”

Hert started to nod before I heard Mr. Roberts say, “We best be on our way.”

Standing up, Hert walked toward Mr. Roberts. Without another word the two of them walked out of the front door.

Looking at Emerson, I said, “I don’t understand.”

With a slight smile, he nodded, saying, “I never do.”

Before I had a chance to ask him what his father actually did for a living, there was a knock at the back door.