Here With You (A Laurel Heights Novel)

chapter Twenty-four



For the first time since she'd come to Laurel Heights, Rachel walked into school with her head high. For the first time since her mom died she felt...

Hopeful, she decided, smiling to herself. She hitched her bag on her shoulder and headed to her locker.

"Hey Rach!"

She turned as Lydia skidded to a stop in front of her. Lydia looked the way she always did: full of life with the tiniest bit of mischief on the side. Rachel smiled at her, realizing that she'd actually missed her chem-mate. "What's going on?"

"With me?" Lydia's eyes widened. "I was afraid Madison had abducted you and stuffed you in a Dumpster at the back of the school."

Rachel laughed. "It's not out of the realm."

"She's been on a warpath lately." Lydia shook her head. "Whatever you've done to her, bravo."

"Ladies." Aaron stopped next to them. He flashed Lydia a smile and then looked at Rachel. His smile changed, becoming more private, and he touched her arm. "How are you?"

She may have been grounded, but her dad let her use Facebook still, so she'd been chatting with Aaron pretty much as often as she could. They had a date as soon as her sentence was served. "I'm great," she said softly.

He slid his hand down her arm and took hers. "Good."

The warning bell rang. "I need to stop at my locker," Rachel said. She needed her textbook.

"I have to stop at my locker, too, but I'll walk you guys part way." Aaron engaged Lydia in conversation as they walked through the hall.

Rachel had no idea what they were talking about. All she could think about was his hand and the way he held hers. She'd never held a boy's hand before. It was nice—really nice.

She hoped her palm wouldn't get sweaty.

Aaron stopped at the juncture of the two halls. "I'll leave you here. See you in chem, Lydia." He turned to Rachel, leaned down, and kissed her cheek.

She felt her face burn, conscious of the curious gazes the other students were giving them. But she smiled shyly. "See you in chem," she promised softly.

His smile lifted her heart. He squeezed her hand and strode off.

"Now I know what you did to piss Madison off." Lydia gave her a high-five. "Way to go."

"I didn't do it on purpose."

"No, but the result is just as satisfying."

"You're cold-hearted," Rachel began, "and therefore I believe we should be best friends. Want to come over to my house sometime?"

"Yes, please." Lydia grinned at her. "I've got to get to class. We'll plot later."

Happy, Rachel hurried to her locker.

The –sons were still there, closing up their lockers. They stiffened when they saw Rachel.

Whatever. She shrugged and went directly to get her things. Maybe if she ignored them, they'd go away.

But they didn't.

Addison spoke first, for a change. "Look, it's Griffin Chase's BFF."

Madison snorted. "It's mean to taunt the mentally challenged, Adds."

Rachel rolled her eyes. She pulled out the book she needed from her locker and shut it before facing them. "It's not going to work, guys. You're wasting your time."

"Why?" Madison got in her face. "Because you lied? Because you're a loser who's not worth our time?"

She had no idea if Griffin Chase would ever see her poem. Nicole had promised he would, but Rachel understood that the chances of him doing anything with it were nonexistent.

It should have bothered her, but it was hard to be upset. Everything was working out, and regardless of whether Griffin Chase used her poem, it was still a great tribute to her mom. She'd shown it to her dad the other night and he'd actually teared up before he'd caught her in a tight hug and apologized for being a douche these past months. (Her word, not his.)

So she shrugged at the –sons and smiled. "If you have nothing better to do than harass me, I feel sorry for you."

While they sputtered with indignation, she turned and rushed to class. Walking through the door as the final bell rang, she eased into her seat.

Rachel pulled out her textbook from her bag. She paused and then also withdrew the blank red notebook.

She ran her hand along the outside. It was the last notebook her mom would ever give her.

Her teacher spent the first ten minutes of class taking attendance and reading announcements. So, taking a deep breath, Rachel opened it and picked up a pen.



Mom, I screwed up. Big time.

But I think I'm done now. I thought that life ended the day you died, and when it kept going on I got pissed. But Dad and Nicole (and everyone really) are right: you'd hate it for us to be unhappy for the rest of our lives.

So when I thought life ended that day, I was wrong. My life began—new and different.

I'm sorry I haven't been writing, but I will. I'll going to start a new story right here, maybe about a girl who has the best mother in the world. Write what you know, right?

Love—always,

Me