I shift awkwardly on my feet, not sure how to respond. Cory continues typing and doesn’t press for an answer right away. As I contemplate what I can even tell the man, I turn away from the counter and move over to where the closest machine is—a press bench not unlike the one in my room, though this one is definitely nicer.
I take a seat and cup the back of my neck as I let my free hand dangle between my legs. “There’s… shit going on with Darrio,” I begin.
Cory snorts. “There’s always shit goin’ on with that man,” he replies without looking my way. “I don’ told ya when you first started workin’ for him that he won’ gonna be nothing but a headache later.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know, man,” I huff out. “You want to hear you were right—well, I’m saying it. You were fucking right, but I still didn’t have much of a choice.”
“We all got choices, kid,” Cory replies. The sound of his typing tapers off and he glances up, our gazes connecting. “Might be between a shitty decision and even worse one, but they’re still choices.”
The hand at the back of my neck drops down to join the other as I duck my head and stare at the freshly cleaned and waxed floors of the gym. “I wanted out of this shithole town,” I say. It’s a truth I’ve known for a long damn time.
Silverwood is a place where people get stuck. It’s a void that will swallow you whole and keep you imprisoned if you let it.I was so determined to get out. I made plans. I took risks. I fucking sold my soul to the devil, and now… there’s more at risk than simply being stuck here in Silverwood forever.
Men like Darrio are a cancer. They won’t care who they hurt in their bid to spread their disease. They want to conquer. They want power.
All I want is freedom for me and the guys and… her. Yeah. Fuck it. I want her more than I’ve wanted anything else in my goddamn life.
“Let me guess, Darrio caught on to your intentions?” Cory asks.
I lift my head again and his expression shifts, his shoulders dropping as he rounds the counter and strides towards where I sit. Once he’s in reach, he crouches down, balancing easily on his feet as he watches me. His dreads are pulled back in a loose knot at the back of his head and his gray Cory’s Gym t-shirt hangs loose over his chest, a size too big for him.
He cups my shoulder. “I ain’t gonna pretend like I know e’erything you done, kid,” he murmurs. “Ain’t no one in this world knows how it’s like bein’ you and no one ever will. They don’ wear your skin, do they?”
I sigh, the weight of decisions to be made sinking into me. I’m so fucking tired. “Knowing that doesn’t help me figure out what I have to do now to protect my people.”
“You know what you need to do.” Cory’s tone is serious. “You just want someone to give you permission.” His fingers squeeze my shoulder again, once, and then he lets go. “That’s the thing about growing up, though. You don’ need no one to give you permission. You make the choice and you deal with the consequences.” He straightens and I tip my head back, watching him unfold from his crouched position to his full height. “Just make sure that whatever decision you make is one you can live with.” He glances to the side as a pair of headlights washover the front windows of the gym. “Too many men have killed themselves over choices they made when they forgot that they’d have to live with them.”
Without the music that normally fills the gym, it’s easy to hear the sound of a car turning off and a pair of footsteps approaching the front. I’d parked around back in the larger parking area, but it seems someone else has chosen the front. I glance at the clock, but it’s only been twenty minutes since I got here. Cory’s doesn’t open for another forty.
There’s no tap on the door, though, but a key twisting in the lock and I jerk my gaze up to Cory as he moves back towards the counter, a smirk on his lips. The door to the gym opens and a familiar figure appears, dressed in loose sweats and a baggy t-shirt.
“Principal Long?” Heather Long, Silverwood High Public’s principal, stops just inside the door. From the look on her face, she’s just as surprised to find me here as I am to see her.
I look back to Cory, who merely shuffles a few papers on the counter absently as if he’s not all that concerned with the woman who has keys to his business. Narrowing my gaze on the older man with suspicion, I get to my feet.
“What are you doing here, Nolan? Cory’s Gym isn’t open for another?—”
“I know,” I say with a shake of my head. “I, uh, I needed some advice and I saw the light on.”
Principal Long shoots a look at Cory, her lips turning down into a scowl when the man still doesn’t say a word. I let my gaze trail down Long’s form. She’s got a water bottle in one hand and her keys in the other, suggesting she’s been coming to his gym for a while. At least long enough to have a key to the front door.
Cory, in all of his enigmatic glory, turns and presses his back to the counter and crosses his arms over his chest as he eyes Long across the room. And I’m done. I’d recognize that look ona man even if I were blind. Cory has a thing for the principal. Whatever they’ve got going on between them has nothing to do with me and finding myself the unintentional buffer to what feels like amused tension on Cory’s part and annoyance on the principal’s has me quickly moving back to the door.
“Well, thanks for… erm… everything,” I say lamely, dodging around the two of them as I reach for the front door. “I’ll see you at school, Principal Long.”
“Nolan? Wait!” I curse inwardly at Principal Long’s call, but lower my hand from the knob and turn to face her out of respect.
“Yes, ma’am?”
Long’s hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail, but the lack of cosmetics and dressed-down nature of her attire makes her look a good ten years younger than she actually is. She looks like she wants to move towards me, but she stops herself.
“I’m aware that Miss Donovan has been relying on you a lot lately,” she starts.
I arch a brow and wait. It’s almost amusing watching the play of emotions over Long’s face. There’s contemplation, annoyance, frustration, anger, and finally, resignation.
She blows out a long breath. “Just… look after her, will you? You’re a good boy, Nolan.”
A good boy? No. I haven’t been good in a long damn time. Not since the day I decided to kill my father and drag the rest of my friends down into hell with me.
