Page 83 of Always Love You More

The teacher turns and moves his eyes across the room. “Welcome to World History,” he says. “I’m Mr. Collins. When I call your name, please come to the front of the room to collect your textbook and class syllabus.”

He moves down the list, and as I’m grabbing my book, I feel my phone vibrate in my back pocket. I tense, worried that something happened with Sam.

Sliding back into my seat, I pull my phone out under the desk. Relief washes over me when I see the message isn’t from her, but my stomach sinks when I read the text.

Dad: Call me.

Fuck.

I glance up and find Mr. Collins still moving down his list, sorting through the books in front of him, when my phone buzzes again.

Dad: Now.

I stand and head for the door. Billy catches my eye, but I subtly shake my head.

Keeping my head down, I make it a few more steps before I hear, “Young man.”

I don’t stop.

He snaps his fingers and asks, “What’s his name?”

Nobody answers him.

I take another step as he calls out, his voice closer this time, “Excuse me, young man. Where do you think you’re going?”

I turn slowly. “Just going to the bathroom.”

He points to a table pushed up against the wall. “You need to sign out first.”

My phone buzzes again.

I don’t have time for this bullshit.

“I’ve really gotta go,” I tell him.

He watches me for a drawn-out second. “Fine, go, but sign in when you get back.”

I nod before stepping out into the hall.

Not wanting to get caught with my phone out and skipping class, I start for the bathroom. It usually doesn’t go well when I get detention. I can’t work if I’m stuck at school.

There’s a scrawny kid washing his hands when I step in. “Out,” I bark.

He jumps and stares back at me, wide-eyed. “W-what?”

I sweep my hand toward the door. “Get out. Now.”

“Yeah, okay, sure,” he mumbles, rushing past me.

The door swings shut as I turn off the water he left running and pull my phone from my back pocket.

Dad: Jameson.

I quickly hit his contact and press the phone against my ear. It only rings once before he picks up.

“What part of now don’t you understand, boy?”

“Had to get out of class,” I answer. “What’s going on?”