The Bad Guy - Page 17

“Because my parents hate each other, and…” More pencil bouncing. “And because my uncle has been doing it with my mom.” His face flamed red. “I, um, I caught them. I went home for the weekend in October. His car was at the house. I walked in, heard noise, and saw them. They have no idea that I know. I left—walked out and haven’t been back or spoken to Mom since.”

The bell rang again, and Dr. Potts’ monotone floated through my classroom.

Mint shifted in his chair. “I guess I had this idea that my parents would start getting along again, the way they used to. Before my dad got his new job and went traveling all the time, we were a tight family. He used to take me fishing. And all three of us would go to the beach once a year. It was sort of like a ritual.” He gave a sad smile. “I even got irritated about going a couple of years ago, because I wanted to stay and party with my friends instead. That was the last year we went, and I spent the whole time sulking like an asshole. We’re never in the same room anymore.” The eraser bouncing stopped. “And Uncle Hal is always sniffing around. Dad has no idea what his brother’s been up to.”

I wanted to reach out and take his hand, but that sort of contact might give him the wrong idea. “Carrying a secret like that is a heavy burden.”

“Yeah.” He blew out his breath in a low, steady exhale. “I want to tell my dad, but…” He shrugged. “I don’t want my mom to leave. She’s always been there for me, way more than Dad.” He glowered. “I know I sound like a pussy when I say that.”

“No, you don’t.” I squeezed his shoulder before folding my hands in my lap again. “I know you don’t want to believe this, but you’re still a young man who needs his parents. Heck, I’m twenty-four, and I wish I could tell my mom all my problems.”

A ghost of a smile traced his lips. “Twenty-four? You’re older than I thought.”

I laughed. “Thanks.” I couldn’t decide if that was a good thing, but it didn’t matter. He’d finally opened up and given me a chance to help him, and I’d count that as a win.

He sobered. “Do you think I should tell Dad what I saw?”

This was the hard part. “No, but I do think you should tell your mom.”

He blanched. “I can’t talk to her about that.”

“I know it sounds awful. But the guilt you’ve been having, the pain her actions have caused—she would want to know about it. I can tell she loves you from the way you talk about her.”

“Yeah, she’s been calling, but I’ve been avoiding her. I sent her a few texts to get her to back off, but I know she’s hurt and doesn’t understand why.” He rubbed his eyes.

“This is my new assignment for you for the Thanksgiving holiday. Sit your mother down and have the talk with her, okay?”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“You can. I promise. You don’t have to get into details. Just give her the general picture and see where it goes. No matter how she reacts, you won’t feel the same burden that you do now.” I motioned toward his biology textbook. “You can’t focus with this weighing on you. I need you to work harder than ever before for the rest of this school year. Your grades have to make a drastic improvement for you to get into a good university.”

“I know.” Fatigue dulled his words.

“Healing this rift with your mom is the way to do it.” I gave in and squeezed his hand before standing. “You’ll see.”

“All right.” He rose and shouldered his backpack. “I’m going to do it. Or, at least I’m going to try.”

“Good.” I walked to my desk and wrote down my cell on a piece of scratch paper. “If you need any moral support, give me a call or send a text.”

He smiled, some of his cockiness filtering back in. “I got the hot teacher’s number.”

I put my hands on my hips. “Mint—”

“Okay, okay. I’m kidding.” He hurried to the door, then paused. “But seriously, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He disappeared into the hallway, and I caught a “Hey, watch where you’re going!” from him before the door slid shut.

I wedged my thumbnail into the small space between my two front teeth, worrying away at it. Giving students home life advice wasn’t exactly in my job description, but then again I was supposed to mold them into decent human beings. I only hoped that my advice to Mint was solid.

A knock sounded, and Gregory entered, a too-big grin on his face and no mail in his arms.

“Why are you smiling like th—”

Tags: Celia Aaron Billionaire Romance
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