After the Crash

  After the Crash

  Emma Alcott

  After the Crash © Emma Alcott 2019.

  Edited by Courtney Bassett.

  Cover design by Terram Horne.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the authors, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Any characters, locations, events, or businesses are works of fiction, and resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Contents

  Acknowledgment

  Prologue

  1. Marshall

  2. Fox

  3. Fox

  4. Marshall

  5. Marshall

  6. Fox

  7. Marshall

  8. Fox

  9. Marshall

  10. Fox

  11. Fox

  12. Marshall

  13. Fox

  14. Marshall

  15. Marshall

  16. Fox

  17. Fox

  18. Marshall

  19. Fox

  20. Fox

  21. Marshall

  22. Marshall

  23. Fox

  24. Marshall

  25. Fox

  26. Marshall

  27. Fox

  28. Marshall

  29. Fox

  30. Fox

  31. Marshall

  32. Marshall

  33. Fox

  34. Marshall

  Epilogue

  A Love Letter

  A Little Something Extra

  About the Author

  Also by Emma Alcott

  Acknowledgment

  After the Crash wouldn’t have been possible without the support of some truly wonderful individuals. Thank you, thank you, thank you to…

  Courtney Bassett, my editor, partner in crime, and all-around personal superhero. I wouldn’t be here without you.

  Lori Parks, whose eagle eyes have saved my literary bacon more than once.

  Jill Wexler, who wanted more.

  Lynn Van Dorn, who inspires me to greatness.

  Lucy Lennox, for her unwavering friendship and unparalleled advice in all things.

  My amazing readers, who believe in me, and were on board from the beginning with my shenanigans.

  And to my husband for his Photoshop wizardry, and for understanding why I often need to camp out in my office until all hours of the night.

  Prologue

  Fox

  Marshall Lloyd hit the floor with the same fleshy sound as the purple jelly dildo that had appeared out of nowhere one lunch period back in December, and if he’d been made out of glittery PVC instead of flesh and bone, Fox might have laughed.

  But Marshall wasn’t.

  He’d never been.

  The kid would never sparkle. Not like this.

  “What’s the matter, Marshall?” Hayden sneered as he dragged Marshall up from the floor and shoved him against the lockers. Marshall opened his mouth, but before he could talk, Hayden slammed his knee into Marshall’s gut. Upon impact the air burst from Marshall’s lungs, and he sputtered and gasped in an attempt to get it back. “Too much of a coward to fight back?

  Fox, who stood several feet away, closed his locker with his hip. When Marshall said nothing, Hayden drove his knee into Marshall’s stomach again.

  “He might break a nail if he did.” Peter, the little shit that he was, laughed. “Little princess would rather save her manicure than her life.”

  “She’s probably waiting for her prince to come save her.” Hayden grabbed Marshall by the hair and wrenched his head back, then leaned in so his lips were by Marshall’s earlobe. “You want that, Marshall? You want some man to sweep in and save you? I bet you’d get on your knees and suck his dick if he did. Is that what you want? To swallow some guy’s load?”

  “P-Please stop,” Marshall wheezed. With his neck stretched like it was, his skin was taut enough that his pulse visibly raced beneath it. “It hurts.”

  “Why don’t you make us?”

  Hayden raised a knee like he was going to pummel it into Marshall’s gut for a third time, but as soon as Marshall braced for the attack, he stopped. Peter took over, catching Marshall across the jaw with a right hook while Marshall was least expecting it. The crunch of knuckles against bone rang down the hallway, followed closely by Hayden and Peter’s laughter. Marshall grunted in pain and wilted, his legs shaking so much, Fox doubted he’d be able to stand without Hayden there to hold him up. It was a miracle he’d made it as far as he had—Marshall was small and wiry, all bones without any muscle. Every hit he took had to be devastating. The only saving grace was that he took them so often, he likely knew what to expect.

  Most days Fox was able to ignore what was happening, but now that he and Marshall were seniors, he’d been having more of a problem pretending not to notice what was going on. Hayden and Peter were juniors, for fuck’s sake.

  It was sad.

  All of this was sad.

  And Fox was done standing around and doing nothing for the sake of popularity.

  “Hey! Fuck off.”

  Peter glared at him. “Are you fucking serious right now, Fox? I’d ask who put that stick up your ass, but it’s not a stick, is it? Sounds like you’re sitting on an entire fucking tree. Calm your tits. We’re just having fun.”

  Hayden rolled his eyes and dropped Marshall, who slid down the locker and curled into a ball. “It’s scientifically proven that Marshall doesn’t have a backbone, so it’s not like he feels anything. It’s like beating up a slug. Besides, you never gave a shit before. Why do you care now?”

  “Does it really fucking matter?” Fox stepped forward, wedging himself between Marshall and Hayden while keeping an eye on Peter, who looked like he might want to get a cheap shot in on Fox for interrupting their fun. “I decided that I’m sick of this, so I’m putting an end to it. Go kick around a hacky sack or snort some Pixy Stix or something.”

  “Looks like Fox wants his dick sucked.” Peter jerked his head in the direction of the foyer. “Come on, Hayden. Let’s give the lovebirds some privacy. Maybe when Marshall’s drained Fox’s balls he’ll come back to his senses and start being fun again.”

  Fox’s lip twitched. “Get the fuck out of here.”

  “Have fun with your girlfriend,” Hayden sneered. He stepped back without turning, keeping his eyes on Fox in a bid to intimidate him, like Fox could ever be scared shitless by what a junior thought of him. “Hope that mouth is worth it.”

  “We’ll tell Elijah you say hi,” Peter added before he and Hayden split.

  Fox stood in place and watched until they’d made it from the hall to the foyer, then turned to face Marshall. He hadn’t moved.

  “Hey, look…” Fox pushed his tongue against the roof of his mouth while he contemplated what to say. It wasn’t like he and Marshall were friends. Marshall likely hated him after what he’d done. “I’m sorry about what happened. It’s bullshit. Are you going to be okay?”

  Marshall said nothing.

  “Hey, I’m talking to you.” Fox glanced at Marshall, then looked up and down the hall to make sure the coast was clear. If Mr. Horner caught him engaging with a kid who’d clearly been roughed up, he’d be locked up in ISS quicker than Sherry Campbell had been expelled for lighting up a doobie in the middle of the cafeteria. Once he was sure that nobody was around, he squatted beside Marshall and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Are you going to be okay?”

  “Yeah,” Marshall said in a small voice.

  “Good. Just… I don’t know. Go to the library or something. Mrs. Crummit will keep you safe if those goons show up. Not that they would. I’m
pretty sure the last time Hayden read a book, he was in second grade.”

  For a long, awkward moment, Marshall didn’t react. Right when Fox was certain he’d decided life was safer on the ground and that it was in his own best interest to leave, Marshall unfurled and propped himself up on his elbow. He looked up at Fox with glistening gunmetal-blue eyes. “Thank you.”

  A feeling wrapped itself around Fox’s stomach and squeezed. He couldn’t name it—didn’t want to name it—but acknowledged it all the same. “It’s no big deal. Just… don’t mess with those guys, okay? Head the other way if you see them. Elijah, too. They’re only going to cause you trouble.”

  “Okay.” Marshall looked away and smoothed a hand nervously over his long hair. With his dainty features and his big thick-rimmed coke-bottle glasses, his sense of style did him no favors. He’d never escape the “princess” moniker if he didn’t get his hair cut, but the fact that his hair was an issue at all was such bullshit. Everything in Bulrush was such bullshit. Fox couldn’t wait to get out.

  “I’ll talk to Elijah and see if he’ll ask the guys to knock it off. Just… lay low or whatever. If you see any of them coming, go the other way.”

  The glimmer in Marshall’s eyes didn’t fade, and for a treacherous moment, Fox found himself thinking that if Marshall had been born a girl, they would have been eyes he wouldn’t have minded losing himself in—the kind that could make his heart beat in time to the batting of their lashes.

  Fox cleared his throat. “You got that?”

  Marshall nodded.

  “So… be careful, I guess.” Fox tucked his hands into the back pockets of his jeans and took a step back. If he stuck around any longer, Hayden and Peter would bring Elijah around, and Fox would have to answer to him. Telling two juniors to fuck off was no skin off his back, but Elijah? No way. Fox wasn’t going to stick his neck out if Elijah was around to behead him. Until their senior year was over and Fox left for basic training, he needed to keep himself in the good graces of the King of Bulrush High. The last thing he needed was to draw the spotlight onto himself.

  Not that Hayden and Peter weren’t going to do their best to make sure that happened, anyway.

  “Fox?” Marshall asked in a small voice that made Fox pause.

  “Yeah?”

  “Thank you. Again. I really mean it.”

  “It’s whatever. If you’re really thankful, don’t talk about it, okay?” Fox didn’t look at Marshall’s face, because he was sure that if he did, he’d get sucked in by his stupidly sweet eyes. “I’ve gotta go.”

  “Okay.” Marshall rose shakily to his feet. “I—”

  “See ya.”

  Fox couldn’t stick around to hear what Marshall had to say—there were footsteps in the distance, and alongside them, the piping voices of two pissed-off juniors who no doubt wanted to flaunt their authority.

  Whatever.

  Fuck them.

  Fox didn’t care much for what Hayden and Peter thought. They orbited Elijah like sickening satellites, waiting for their shot at being the big man on campus, but as long as Elijah was still around, it would never come. It was how it’d been since preschool, when Fox’s uneasy friendship with him had begun.

  “Fox,” Elijah called from the foyer as Fox strolled toward it. “Hayden and Peter say you’re being a pussy. What the fuck is going on?”

  “Nothing.” Fox didn’t look over his shoulder to see what Marshall was doing, but he heard scrambling footsteps growing fainter by the second. If the kid had any brains, he was hightailing it to the staircase at the other end of the hall. “I was looking for change in my backpack when I saw Hayden getting in real close with Marshall. Pulled him back and whispered in his ear and everything. I figured if I didn’t step in, Hayden was going to start making out with him.”

  “Fucking liar!” Hayden seethed.

  Fox shrugged. “I saw what I saw. You were talking about how he likes to suck cock more than I’d consider normal. You got a fantasy, Hayden? Maybe you and Peter could—”

  “I swear, if you say one more word—”

  “Boys, boys. Calm down.” Elijah waved a hand. By then, Fox had made it to the foyer, and Elijah clapped him on the back, steering him toward the upper gym. Hayden glared at him, but didn’t push the issue. “Who cares? We’ve got bigger things to worry about. Fox, word just broke that Morgan is having a house party this weekend. Her parents are going away. According to my sources, not only will she have access to enough booze to kill an elephant, but Rico’s going to be bringing some dank bud. You’re coming, right?”

  “Sure.”

  Fox was only half listening—his ears were trained on the hallway, listening to make sure Marshall had got out safely. The guy was a dork, but he didn’t deserve Hayden and Peter’s cruelty, and he certainly didn’t deserve what Elijah would do to him if he got it in his head that Marshall needed to be taught a lesson.

  Elijah clapped him on the back. “That’s my boy.”

  “But only if you listen to me.” Fox brought Elijah to a stop, effectively stopping Hayden and Peter as well. “Look, it’s nothing against Hayden or Peter, but the way Hayden was touching Marshall made me sick.”

  Hayden puffed up his chest. “You’re so full of it! Stop fucking lying!”

  “Like you didn’t lean in close and speak into his ear like you were trying to get him all hot and bothered?” It was a risk, but Fox wasn’t going to let it stop him. Marshall was the weird kid, but that didn’t mean he deserved to have the shit kicked out of him. “Peter?”

  Peter crossed his arms over his chest and looked off to the side. “I mean, he did, but like, it wasn’t that.”

  “Only it was.” Fox met Elijah’s gaze, keeping his expression as neutral and unperturbed as he could. He only had one shot to get this right. “I think it’d be a good idea if we all left the princess alone for a while. I don’t want any of us to start getting… ideas.”

  Elijah held his gaze for a long moment, then glanced at Hayden, who looked ready to start throwing punches. “You think it’s contagious?”

  “I’m not saying that. All I’m saying is that it’s better to be safe than sorry. It’s our senior year. We don’t want anyone talking about us.”

  “You’re right.” Elijah nodded in the direction of the gym, and without a word, the group continued walking. “Hayden, Peter, leave the weirdo alone.”

  “But—”

  “If you’re rolling with me,” Elijah’s voice was slick ice—the kind you didn’t notice until it was too late, and you were already careening off the road, “you need to maintain certain standards. One of them is not putting yourself in a position where people are gonna start to talk, because guess what? It always gets reflected on me, and I’m not going to tolerate people thinking that something gross is going on between me and the princess. Got it?”

  “Fine. Whatever. I’ll leave him be.” Hayden glared at Fox, but his ire was the least of Fox’s worries. The sickeningly tight feeling in his stomach eased, and for the first time since he’d witnessed Hayden slam his knee into Marshall’s gut, he was able to properly breathe. Somehow he’d managed to do the impossible—he’d bought Marshall time.

  “So, now that that’s settled, what do you boys say to a little trip to Love’s before lunch is over?” Elijah took a sharp left in front of the upper gym and headed for the staircase. It was the fastest way to get to the student parking lot. “I heard Rico’s going to be there. We can skip the rest of the afternoon and get wrecked.”

  “I’m out.” Fox stopped in front of the door leading into the stairwell. “I’ve got a math test this afternoon, and if I fail it, they’re not going to let me graduate.”

  Elijah shrugged. He pushed the door open and held it for Hayden and Peter. “Sucks to be you.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Guess we’ll catch you tomorrow.” Elijah held his gaze for a second longer than was necessary, like he saw through Fox’s lies and knew the truth. Then, with a telling smirk, Elija
h winked. “Peace.”

  “See ya.”

  The door shut. Fox watched through the small window on it as Elijah, Hayden, and Peter roughhoused their way down the staircase. When they were gone, he slumped against the wall next to the door and heaved a tired sigh.

  There were just three months, two weeks, and six days until graduation.

  Two thousand, six hundred and forty hours with weekends included.

  One thousand, eight hundred and seventy-two without.

  He could do this.

  He could make it through.

  And once he did, he’d leave Bulrush for good.

  1

  Marshall

  Phone calls were the bane of Marshall’s existence. Well, maybe that was being unfair to Alexander Graham Bell. It wasn’t like a telephone had ever gone out of its way to spite him. There were worse evils in the world. Cold cat puke strategically placed where his bare foot would land in it first thing in the morning, for one, which only narrowly beat out cliffhanger season finales. In all honesty, phone calls typically ranked fifth or sixth on the bane-o-meter, sandwiched between motorists who neglected to use their turn signals and produce going bad a day after bringing it home.