Page 68 of Lost
Zack hadn’t believed it was possible for him to be any angrier with the girl that had destroyed his son’s heart, but hearing that she had spread both truth and lies of Lysander’s personal life across the school was really testing his patience. He had to fight to stay in his seat and not drive over to the girl’s house immediately. He would very much have liked to kick her door in and have a few choice words with her and her mother, but he knew that neither was going to help his son in any way. It was too late to put a stop to things. They were just going to have to deal with the aftermath instead.
“It sounds like this suspension is coming at a good time,” Georgia said from the doorway. “By the time you get back to school, everybody will have forgotten about all of this and moved on.”
Zack doubted this, but he wasn’t about to wipe the hopeful look off of his son’s face.
“No more fighting,” he said. “You need to learn to walk away, kid.”
“I just needed to hit somebody. It’s out of my system now, I swear.”
“It had better be, because your principal isn’t going to be lenient if it happens again.”
And it didn’t matter how many other options there were for schools that Lysander could go to — Zack didn’t want to see the boy ruin his life before it had even begun. He and his friends had been lucky that their lives had turned out so well when there were so many others like them who had gone in the wrong direction and landed themselves in prison.
It was hard to imagine Lysander like that. But then, it had been hard to imagine his old schoolmates like that, too.
Lysander sniffled, soft enough that Zack would have passed it off as nothing if he hadn’t seen the tears beginning to swim in the boy’s eyes. “Can I go to my room now?”
Zack opened his mouth to say no, that he’d prefer if Lysander stayed downstairs where they could see him, but Georgia spoke before he could.
“Oh, Ly,” she breathed, one hand hovering over her heart. “Can I give you a hug?”
Lysander’s eyes darted to her in surprise. Zack was surprised, too. Georgia held her position, still several feet away from them, like she was afraid to get too close. Understandable, Zack supposed. They’d been working on things, but she still didn’t feel like a parent to Lysander. No doubt he was going to refuse her request.
But then, to Zack’s surprise again, the boy nodded.
Freed of her spell, Georgia rushed over and swept Lysander into her arms, embracing him like a mother. Zack breathed, watching as his son leaned into her, two lone tears escaping his eyes and streaking down his cheeks as he returned her gesture. Georgia ran a hand up and down the boy’s back, the way she did when she comforted Zack. He couldn’t help the little smile it brought to his face.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” she said softly. “You’ll see.”
She was going to make a great mother someday.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Suspensions never lasted long, it seemed. Whether they be for three days or just short of a week, they seemed to fly by faster than the weekend and leave him feeling more anxious than they had when they’d begun. This one specifically had him on edge.
Georgia was adamant that Lysander’s classmates would have moved on by now — that his fight with Ethan Masters would have been forgotten and the stories that Eliza Beth had been spreading about him would be a thing of the past. She painted a beautiful picture, comforting him in a way that his mother would have done. He appreciated the effort at least.
Zack had a more realistic view of things. He was as certain as his son that the students of Mapleton Beach High would not have forgotten the events of Lysander’s last week, and so he’d crawled out of bed early that morning to provide his son with some words of wisdom. Upon hearing them, Lysander had been unsure. But the moment he stepped onto the school grounds and realised that people were indeed still staring, he was willing to try anything.
So he took his father’s advice: whenever he caught somebody looking his way, he made a point of firmly staring back.
He was amazed at how fast it made many of them drop their gaze. He had been expecting harsh words or challenging stances in response, but he was getting guilty expressions and compliance instead. The only people who did anything otherwise were Masters’ cronies and the occasional teacher. The former were quick to flip him the bird; the latter watched him cautiously whenever he came into their line of sight. Lysander felt that he could handle them, anyway — he had Jack back by his side.
But there was always an exception, and for him that exception was Eliza Beth. He was lucky enough that he didn’t have to see her until second period English, but even having the morning to prepare for the sight of her hadn’t been enough. He’d thought his anger would dissipate in the week and a half that he’d had to get over things, but the moment he saw her it was like giving oxygen to a dying fire.
He wanted to hit her, especially when she looked across the room at him like nothing had changed.
He had thought she would at least have the sense to stay away from him, but it seemed she wasn’t as smart as he’d given her credit for.
He was highly aware of every member of his English class watching himself and Eliza Beth with absolute stillness as she made her way over to him, almost as if they were waiting for him to lash out and attack her the way that he had Ethan Masters. A part of him wanted to, if he was being honest. But he knew better than to hit a girl, he knew better than to push his luck when he’d just come back from being suspended, and he hardly wanted to give anybody — student or teacher — the satisfaction of knowing how close to the edge he still was. But it was hard when she was getting right in his face. He needed to take control. He gripped his chair.
“Lysander,” she said. “Hi. I just wanted to s—”
“Don’t bother, Eliza Beth,” he said immediately. “Just go away.”
The absence of sound was gone in a minute. People were snickering, taking in surprised breaths, or letting out low, fight-provoking, “Ooh”s. Eliza Beth’s mouth snapped shut at once, but her eyes were still talking. She was angry too, though he didn’t feel like she had a right to be. She looked ready to say something else to him, but Ms. Lowe chose that moment to enter the classroom.
“Everybody to their seats,” she said at once. “Free writing for ten minutes!”
