Read Online Unspoken (The Woodlands) by Jen Frederick - Free Book Online
Authors: Jen Frederick
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this spurred my feet into motion. I knew I was needling an angry animal now, but I couldn’t resist another poke, and as I walked by him I said in a low tone, “Heard you had problems germinating seeds.”
He grabbed my arm, causing the tray to tip precariously. Ryan reached out and steadied the tray and looked questioningly at Clay’s hand on my biceps. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a tall, dark-haired guy rise to his feet. Noah, Bo’s weight-room buddy. His thickly muscled arms and toned body caught Clay’s attention, too. He dropped his hand and then shook it in the air. “Damn, I’m going need to some sanitizer so I don’t catch one of your friends.” His words rang out loudly in the now-silent cafeteria. This time I was the one who couldn’t keep the blood from rising and coloring my cheeks.
Now we both looked like angry animé characters with red spots denoting our anger and embarrassment. “You aren’t good enough to touch me, and you know it,” I told him.
“I’m no OB, but I know a cunt when I see one.” Maybe he’d meant to whisper it to me, but everyone was so quiet, so intent on getting the details of the drama, that the insult carried on the waves of silence through to the entrance of the dining hall as clearly as the Main Hall bell that rang at noon. The entire room sucked in their collective breaths and even Clay, as dim as he was, realized he might have gone one step too far with the putdowns.
“It’s gynecologist,” I said, leaving him behind. I heard him say, “What?” and Ryan answered slowly, as if he could barely believe what had just transpired. “An OB delivers babies. Gynecologists examine women in the way you were suggesting.”
“What’s the difference?” Clay asked.
Ryan’s response was filled with disgust so transparent that I think even Clay must have noticed. “There’s a difference.”
By the time we reached the conveyor belt that took the dirty trays and plates back to where I assumed everything would be washed, I was shaking like a leaf. The contents of my tray were clinking together, and Ellie took my tray from me before the contents spilled onto the floor.
She looked miserable. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“Are you kidding?” I said, trying to breathe normally instead of in little frightened pants. “How is this your fault? You’re not responsible for him.” I couldn’t bring myself to say his name.
“I’m not going to recount the obvious timeline that brought you here,” Ellie said, reaching up and slinging an arm around my shoulders, “but just know that I’m taking responsibility whether you like it or not.”
“If it makes you feel better.” I tried to joke but I felt nothing but gratitude that she was holding me.
“It does,” was her firm reply. The steadiness in Ellie’s body and the lighthearted tone she was using helped me walk out of the commons instead of crawl out.
“I wouldn’t still be here without you, Ellie.”
“That’s kind of what scares me,” Ellie admitted.
“What?” I turned at the top of the stairs. “Why would you say that?”
She shrugged. “Because maybe you shouldn’t be here anymore.”
That only made me stand up straighter. “I’m not running away.”
“I know. You don’t like to quit, but maybe that’s kind of an outdated slogan. I mean, it’s not like you’re Braveheart trying to stand up for the right to wear kilts against the British.”
“Is that really what Mel Gibson died for?”
“That’s what I got out of it,” Ellie said.
We had made it to the door. No one had stopped us. I hadn’t heard any more jeers or taunts. I was going to survive this day, just like I’d survived all the past ones. And tomorrow would be better. It had to be. We bundled up and wrapped our scarves around our faces, protecting ourselves from the wind. Too bad there wasn’t a scarf I could wear indoors to protect my heart.
As I pushed on the door, I saw one more obstacle. Damn.
Chapter
He grabbed my arm, causing the tray to tip precariously. Ryan reached out and steadied the tray and looked questioningly at Clay’s hand on my biceps. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a tall, dark-haired guy rise to his feet. Noah, Bo’s weight-room buddy. His thickly muscled arms and toned body caught Clay’s attention, too. He dropped his hand and then shook it in the air. “Damn, I’m going need to some sanitizer so I don’t catch one of your friends.” His words rang out loudly in the now-silent cafeteria. This time I was the one who couldn’t keep the blood from rising and coloring my cheeks.
Now we both looked like angry animé characters with red spots denoting our anger and embarrassment. “You aren’t good enough to touch me, and you know it,” I told him.
“I’m no OB, but I know a cunt when I see one.” Maybe he’d meant to whisper it to me, but everyone was so quiet, so intent on getting the details of the drama, that the insult carried on the waves of silence through to the entrance of the dining hall as clearly as the Main Hall bell that rang at noon. The entire room sucked in their collective breaths and even Clay, as dim as he was, realized he might have gone one step too far with the putdowns.
“It’s gynecologist,” I said, leaving him behind. I heard him say, “What?” and Ryan answered slowly, as if he could barely believe what had just transpired. “An OB delivers babies. Gynecologists examine women in the way you were suggesting.”
“What’s the difference?” Clay asked.
Ryan’s response was filled with disgust so transparent that I think even Clay must have noticed. “There’s a difference.”
By the time we reached the conveyor belt that took the dirty trays and plates back to where I assumed everything would be washed, I was shaking like a leaf. The contents of my tray were clinking together, and Ellie took my tray from me before the contents spilled onto the floor.
She looked miserable. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“Are you kidding?” I said, trying to breathe normally instead of in little frightened pants. “How is this your fault? You’re not responsible for him.” I couldn’t bring myself to say his name.
“I’m not going to recount the obvious timeline that brought you here,” Ellie said, reaching up and slinging an arm around my shoulders, “but just know that I’m taking responsibility whether you like it or not.”
“If it makes you feel better.” I tried to joke but I felt nothing but gratitude that she was holding me.
“It does,” was her firm reply. The steadiness in Ellie’s body and the lighthearted tone she was using helped me walk out of the commons instead of crawl out.
“I wouldn’t still be here without you, Ellie.”
“That’s kind of what scares me,” Ellie admitted.
“What?” I turned at the top of the stairs. “Why would you say that?”
She shrugged. “Because maybe you shouldn’t be here anymore.”
That only made me stand up straighter. “I’m not running away.”
“I know. You don’t like to quit, but maybe that’s kind of an outdated slogan. I mean, it’s not like you’re Braveheart trying to stand up for the right to wear kilts against the British.”
“Is that really what Mel Gibson died for?”
“That’s what I got out of it,” Ellie said.
We had made it to the door. No one had stopped us. I hadn’t heard any more jeers or taunts. I was going to survive this day, just like I’d survived all the past ones. And tomorrow would be better. It had to be. We bundled up and wrapped our scarves around our faces, protecting ourselves from the wind. Too bad there wasn’t a scarf I could wear indoors to protect my heart.
As I pushed on the door, I saw one more obstacle. Damn.
Chapter
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