Boarding with the Bad Boy [COMPLETE + BONUS published edition]

Stuff of Nightmares

It's not Jill's fault—she doesn't even know—that her dad doesn't like me, but I ignore her texts like the reproachful, selfish person I am these days. I can tell she's worried about me--I haven't shown up at school for four days and I cleared out her guest room and disappeared without a trace--but I can't make myself respond to her directly. I send a quick text to Spencer, letting him know that I'm safe and still at Ryan's, and that I want to be left alone and would he please let Jill know. He sends a thumb's up emoji, which I read to mean he's annoyed but still has my back.

Ryan's mom sleeps much of the day—she works as the night shift as a nurse at the local hospital—but she notices if my truck never leaves the street, so I rise at the same time as Ryan and drive downtown, parking behind the pharmacy and reclining the seat all the way, turning my music up so loud I get a headache.

I don't like myself right now, the angry shell of a person I've become since starting at Ryder. And I don't know what to do to fix myself. Behind the heavy storm of metal on the truck's radio, I give in to my anger, blaming everyone and everything but myself for the way I feel. It's easy enough. Jill was the one who brought Ryder up as a viable option; Mr. Ross got me in. Admissions screwed everything up by listing me as a boy and rooming me with Sam, and Jill convinced me it was a good idea. Sam involved his mother and tied us together for the whole year. Brandon's hatred created a shit pile of stress, anger, and fear that's tailed me over the course of three years. Jared is an idiot cog in the fucking wheel. My dad, right now, takes the cake, having left me to make all these bad decisions at seventeen. I blame him for dying and putting me in this position, blame my grandparents for being from Ohio and refusing to consider the move east, blame all three of them for my final year at Salisbury. I blame my mom for leaving us for Brandon's dad, which brings me back to Brandon and makes me curl my fists in all-encompassing anger. But it doesn't give me any answers. At three pm, I put the truck in gear and drive back to Ryan's.

Everything happens so fast. The car careening off the road down the hill, the sharp shout from my dad, the heavy crunch of metal on tree trunk. I watch it, I chase it, but when I throw myself into the driver's door, yanking it open, there's no one inside. Instead, a cold voice whispers in my ear and I spin into Brandon, who grabs me by the throat and presses me into the wreckage, cursing threats. The cross-country boys come from the woods, first slowly, then too quickly. Jared, Raffi, Nick—all of them. The girls stand on the sidelines and laugh, but they don't stop the boys as they crowd me. And then I can hear my dad, a pitiful moaning from under the car, but I can't get to him. I can't move; I can't breathe. Brandon's telling me that this is the last thing my dad will see—me, the slut of Ryder Academy— and I'm screaming and thrashing and then Ryan's there, shaking me awake and pressing a cold towel to my forehead, looking stricken.

I rock forward and back on the bed, my heart still pounding. It seems all the things that haunt me during the day multiply at night. This is the third in a row that Ryan has had to drag me from the depths of my nightmares. While I'm not proud of my middle-of-the-night screaming, I am relieved that Ryan's mom works the night shift and isn't kept awake by my shouting and crying.

"What are you dreaming about?" Ryan asks as I settle myself back on my pillow. His legs stretch over me as he rests his back against the wall behind the guest bed, his fingers running gently through my hair.

"My dad," I mutter. Then, more quietly, "Brandon, Sam."

"Did they just start?" Ryan asks.

"Not exactly. I used to have the same dream about my dad almost every night through the summer. His car crashing, my not being able to get to him, to help. But these recent ones are...different."