The Lie: Rebels of Ridgecrest High (Book 2)

Asher clasps his hand on my shoulder in the waiting room, and I jump a little, looking up from my phone. I’ve been playing Candy Crush and trying not to think about being here…in the hospital.

“She’s awake.” He smiles as he hands me a bottle of water.

Letting out a sigh of relief, I take the water from him. I’ve been sitting in this waiting room for hours. The same one I’ve been in and out of since they brought her here. I know every scuff mark, every crack in the paint, and I’m now on a first-name basis with one of the janitors. Joseph is a great guy, loves the Rebels.

But they’d said today’s the day; they were waking her up out of her medical-induced coma. I needed to be here for her when she woke up, but it’s immediate family only. Even Asher didn’t get that privilege. Only his mom and Mila’s dad, James. But they’ve kept us updated at every stage.

“Is she talking? Does she seem fine?”

He looks down at his phone, and I watch impatiently as he types out a message to his mom. I take a large mouthful of water and force it down. The lump in my throat from worrying that something will go wrong just won’t go away. Even with the water. After a moment, he smiles and looks down at me and nods.

“Yeah, Mom said she is fine. But asking for Roman.”

Fuck.

“I don’t know where he is.”

And that was the honest truth. He discharged himself days ago, against doctors’ orders, and he went home. But when I went to his trailer to check on him, he wasn’t there, and he hasn’t been answering any of my messages or calls.

“We’ll find him.” Asher nods from where he now sits beside me.

“Am I allowed to see her?”

“Yeah, they said to grab some lunch and come back in an hour. They’ll let us in then.”

I get up and follow the signs to the hospital cafeteria. The food tastes like shit, but I’ve worked out what not to buy now. Asher comes up on my left, and we walk the hallway together.

It’s amazing how close Asher and I have become this past week. Like, I want to kick his ass on the football field still, but he really has Mila’s best interests at heart. Hell, we all beat the shit out of that scumbag for Mila. He’s a good guy.

He’s been passing messages on to me when he hears anything from James. Been letting me know how Mila is, even when I’m at home and worried.

I knew she had some internal bleeding and lots of cuts and bruises.

Roman’s face was almost unrecognizable after that beating, and everyone assumed he’d been hit by the car, like Mila. I heard he tried to avoid going to the hospital, but he wouldn’t leave Mila’s side, and that’s how the paramedics convinced him to go.

When I saw him, he looked almost dead, and I was certain that if he hadn’t gone with her, he wouldn’t be here with us anymore.

Roman wouldn’t tell me exactly what had happened, but I’ve worked out enough to know that the car accident wasn’t an accident at all. That the guys who did this to him were the same ones who hit Mila. And he’s been blaming himself ever since. I want to find them, to kill them…

Except, I’m worried Roman might have already done that. And maybe that’s why I can’t find him—he’s gone off the grid. Not because they got to him first. I refuse to consider that possibility.

God, I hope you’re okay, Roman. Or I will kill you myself.

“Who are you playing tomorrow?” I ask Asher, trying to forget about Roman for a moment. I don’t want that on my mind when I get to see Mila. I can’t wait to see her, hold her hand in mine and verify that she’s okay.

It’s Thursday, and even though I’ve barely been at school this week, there’s no way in hell I’m playing tomorrow. My head’s not in the game. My heart is lying in a hospital bed, and I need to be with her. But my whole team is playing for Mila. They’re good guys…except one.

Jace hasn’t been here once. Hasn’t messaged me to ask how Mila is. Hell, he didn’t even ask about Roman. I’m done with his selfish shit. The only people who deserve my time are Mila and Roman. I’m not chasing after him to tell him how she is, he should be here. I don’t care anymore what he does, he’s no friend of mine.

“North Point Royals.” Asher doesn’t seem too enthusiastic.

James and his mom want him to play. He does, too, but I can tell he’s conflicted over the whole thing. So, the fact that she’s waking up today will be good for him. He’s been struggling with Mila being here as much as I have.

I shake my head and clap my hand on his shoulder just as he did to me earlier. He’s roughly the same height as me, and he turns to face me. His eyebrows raise, and he gives me a puzzled look.

I chuckle. “Good luck, man. You’re gonna need it.”

“Hell nah, don’t need any luck. We kicked your asses. The Royals are nothing.” Asher does some really bad karate moves in the air, and a nurse glares at him as we pass her.

I laugh, because that’s a bit of an exaggeration—’kicked your asses.” I think he means we kicked his ass. “Hope they don’t kick your ass, not like Grady did.”

“They don’t think I’m fucking their girl, so I should be safe.”

An older woman gasps, her hand flying to her chest at what Asher just said. Laughing, I grab his tee and drag him faster. In less than an hour, I will be seeing Mila, and I don’t want to be kicked out because Asher has a dirty mouth.

“She wants to see Roman. But if you don’t know where he is, then I don’t stand a chance of finding him.” James runs his hands through his hair. “I’ve been so worried about Mila, I let him slip past. I wouldn’t have let him leave.”

“I don’t want her worried about that right now, either. I’ll find him,” I reassure James.

James has dark shadows under his eyes, and his cheekbones are sharper than usual. He looks like he hasn’t eaten in a few days, and it’s obvious the stress has taken a toll on him.

“Don’t get her all riled up, Asher. She needs to rest.” His mom pins him with a look.

He puts his hands up and points to himself. “Me? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His mom just makes a sound that lets him know she doesn’t believe that. I don’t have time to think about what she meant by “riled up.” I’m only feet away from my girl.

As we walk past them both and head toward the room Mila’s in, I shoulder-check Asher.

“Hey, what the fuck?” he calls out, and a nurse glares at us.

“What did your mom mean by riling her up? You into her?” Okay, so I couldn’t let it go. Is he into Mila? Not that I blame him. Anyone Mila encounters is drawn into her orbit. It’s just who she is. But, fuck him, she’s mine. He better not be into her.

He put his hands up defensively and shakes his head. “No, nothing like that. Just, when we’re together, we seem to cause havoc. Mostly at home. Just ragging on each other, riling her up, and she riles me up too, man. Just Mila being Mila is all. Nothing else.”

Sounds like Mila. After being around Asher all week, I’ve noticed they are very similar in their personalities. So, I can imagine them messing around like that. But I still don’t like it. I give her butterflies. She said that. Does he give her butterflies too? He better not, or I will have to kick his ass.

Shaking my head to clear those thoughts, I put on a smile as I walk into the room and see her. She’s so tiny in such a huge bed. Her eyes meet mine, and she smiles at me. My heart’s in my throat at the sight of her. She has dark and yellowing bruises and only a few scrapes, but several are deep enough that they will leave scars. Knowing Mila, she will call them battle wounds, and she’ll be even hotter than before by owning them.

I make my way slowly toward her, not breaking eye contact and trying to smile like everything’s okay. It will be. She’s alive. She’s going to be fine.

The door clicks shut as Asher makes his way up behind me.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” I ask her.

“Like I got hit by a car,” Mila deadpans back at me.

I stop and my eyes widen. Asher lets out a huge, bellowing laugh, and I laugh too. Mila will be more than fine. Even though she lies broken on a hospital bed, she’s still the feisty Mila we know and love.

“If I’d known that’s all I needed to break the tense atmosphere, I would have told my dad the same thing when he asked how I felt.”

Moving away from Asher and as close as I can to Mila, I smile down at my girl.

She’s gonna be mine.

“Well, if you had, he would’ve known you’re just fine. Smart-ass and tough as nails.”

She holds up her right arm to display a blue cast. “Not that tough. I broke my wrist. I have to wear this for six weeks. Or maybe it’s only five now. I’m confused by the whole I’ve been sleeping for days thing.” She looks over to the door then back to me, her eyes darting between Asher and me.

“When do you get to go home?” I ask. I know who she’s looking for, and I quickly change the subject so I don’t have to tell her Roman isn’t coming.

“If everything goes well, I can leave here in a few days and continue to rest at home. They said they kept me under the meds longer because of something…I can’t remember, but it’s all good now.”

She throws her hands in the air, the one with the cast wobbling a little from the weight. Then she places them down on her blanket and stares at it for a moment.

“I didn’t get hit too hard. Or I have a hard head…I don’t know, but I’m hoping to go home Sunday. Thank you for coming to see me.”

I nod and reach for her hand. She sighs at the contact. “Mila,” I bend over and press my lips gently to her forehead, where there aren’t any cuts or bruises. “I’ve been here every day waiting to see you. I wouldn’t not be here. They had to drag me home.”

When I draw back, I see her eyes. Since I don’t want her to cry, I reluctantly let go of her hand so Asher can get closer to her and give her a break from me for a moment.

“You gonna watch my game tomorrow? Cheer me on? Mom will come back with your dad and Madison later. They’ll bring your laptop so you can watch Netflix and me.”

She smiles. Good, that cheered her up a little more.

“Oh, Asher…that’s a hard one. Netflix or you? Mmm…who are you playing?”

I give her a cocky grin and wink. “Royals.”

Asher just shakes his head and grunts something under his breath at me.

“Their quarterback is hot. And they’re an amazing team. They are so gonna go to state.” She turns to me. “No offense, Hunter. The Rebels are good, but have you seen the Royals?”

I laugh at the sound that escapes Asher’s lips. Mila, the shit-stirrer. I see what Kate is talking about now. Riling him up.

“Hey, we have Walker, and you said he is hot. Plus, he’s been calling me every day to see how you are. We’re all playing for you tomorrow, Mila.”

Her hand goes to her chest.

“Aww…you’re playing for me?” She beams. “Walker is hotter.” Raising her cast up in the air, she says, “Go Kings,” and winks at me.

Asher whoops loudly, his fist punching the air.

“I knew I just had to dangle the right incentive to get you cheering for the Kings every week.” Asher turns to me. “No offense, man, you’re good and all…but Walker’s hot. You heard it from the source. Plus, he’s a better quarterback than Jace.”

Walker Murphy’s a cocky guy; he knows he’s good. But he’s also a decent human too. He cares enough about Mila that he sent her flowers. They’re with all the rest that are now at her house since there were too many in the hospital room.

Not like Jace Montero. Not even once has he thought about anyone but himself. The rest of his family has. Grady’s been here with me during the week, and his parents have been cooking for James. But not Jace. He’s been off with Britney and not giving one shit that Mila’s in the hospital.

“Hunter?” Mila reaches out to me as a nurse walks in.

“I need to check her vitals, and she needs a rest, boys. Say your goodbyes.”

It isn’t enough time. I can’t leave her; she’s so small and needs me. She needs someone with her. She’s strong and so feisty, but it doesn’t mean she doesn’t need or want someone to take care of her. Shoulder some of the pain. Even if it’s to just sit here and listen to her talk or hold her hand.

But I see the way her eyelids droop a little. She is keeping herself awake for us, and I know she needs rest. As soon as I have the opportunity, I will stay and sit with her while she sleeps.

Asher is already tugging on my arm as the nurse gives us a warning look to say goodbye. “I gotta go, beautiful. But I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Roman?” she asks, her eyes wide and pleading.

God, if I could bring him to her, I would. I give her a small smile and shrug. I know it’s not what she wants to hear. I don’t want to lie to her, either, and say he will be here. It’s the million-dollar question everyone seems to be asking.

Where’s Roman?