Текст книги "Slow Twitch"
Автор книги: Лиз Реинхардт
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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 22 страниц)
“Fine,” I said and walked to the dresser. I had finally given in and moved my clothes out of my suitcase and into the drawers. Mom didn’t seem like she was in any rush to leave. Thorsten had been able to pick up an extra show at work, so he was happy to get the overtime hours without worrying about Mom and me. She felt like this was a good experience for me. I didn’t exactly disagree.
Except I didn’t like myself very much here. I wanted to be more like Jake, but I wasn’t. I actually admired so much of what they had and what they did and where they went. Not everything, obviously. I hated their phoniness and the fact that the teenagers and probably adults traded sex partners without even thinking and accepted the alcoholism that pretty much ran rampant. I hated that they were catty and jealous and mean.
But I wanted to be trilingual and get in places no one else could, to have access to all the little best things in life that they could afford to just take for granted. When Evan talked about having to go to mass in Rome for Easter while she visited her free-spirit aunt or how her father got so many tickets to concerts she literally couldn’t make it to every show, I wished I could have those experiences. I hated that I had wound up being so admiring of the whole thing, but I was.
I pulled a little white dress over my head. I had as much of a tan as I was ever going to get, and the dress looked really good on me. I knew it wasn’t designer. When had I even started worrying about things like that? Whenever we went out in Dublin, Evan pointed out how great my outfits were and honestly loved them. But she kind of had the choice to spend as much or as little as she wanted on her wardrobe, at least for now. It was hard to be that open-minded when you didn’t have any other option.
“It’s going to be dinner time soon.” Jake wrapped his arms around me and kissed me on my neck. He smelled like pine and sun and Jake. His arms cradled me, strong and dependable. My phone calls to Evan and being with Jake were pretty much the only things keeping me grounded here.
“We should go down.” We always went together. Neither one of us wanted to face that den of jackals alone.
He took my hand, and I made a stop by my mom’s room before we went on. She still wasn’t in, and I worried for a minute. Where could she be? What was she doing? Was she still out with Mama D? Why didn’t she tell me anything anymore?
Jake and I wandered down to the dining room. One of his random relatives called him over to ask him about some motor they were all debating. Jake was about to say no, but I pushed him away. I didn’t want him to think I was so pathetic that he could never leave my side.
He got dragged out to the yard to look at the car in question. I could see him from the big plate glass windows in the sun room. I was watching Jake, and enjoying the fact that he was far hotter than any of his fake-tanned, bleached-out cousins, when I felt someone near me, someone unfamiliar.
When I turned to look, it was a little bit spooky, because for a split second, I thought I was looking at Jake. Then I realized it was his dad.
“Oh, Mr. Maclean! You scared me.” My laugh felt too bubbly and nervous.
There were a few reasons Mr. Maclean put me on edge. He drank too much. He looked a little shifty. I hated how much he resembled Jake.
His eyes were already red-rimmed and glassy. Jake’s father drank more than anyone I had ever seen before. The sweet stinging smell of alcohol was wafting off of him, burning my eyes.
“It’s Gerald, Brenna.” His eyes drank me in, looked me up and down slowly and made my skin actually crawl. “So you and Jake are pretty serious, huh?” He leaned just a few inches too close to me.
I took two deliberate steps away and tried not to make a face. I hated when adults asked questions like that. I loved Jake with everything in me. But how was I supposed to answer that? ‘ Yeah, we’re getting married someday for sure!’ or, ‘ Golly-gee, he’s just my world!’?
Our love was completely real, but I didn’t want to blabber about it. Especially to his Dad.
“Um, I guess we are,” I said vaguely, examining a pottery piece on the table next to me to avoid eye contact.
“You and me? We’ve got something in common, you know. I had a thing with a wrong-side-of-the-tracks girl.” His smile bordered on a leer. “Jake’s mom was hot, a real turn-on. But not really from my world, you know?”
He was trying to connect with me. He was putting Jake down, and he was creeping me out. My heart thudded hard, my mouth felt gritty, and the sweat that slicked over my palms made my hands slide on the top of the table when I tried to brace myself. I realized with a panicked sweep of my eyes how alone we were.
There were usually maids bustling around, getting things ready for dinner. I had never been down here when there weren’t a few people fixing themselves cocktails or lounging on the couch. Where was everyone?
I could see Jake, could physically see him, but he was way too far away to help me at all if anything happened. And by anything, I meant even things I didn’t want to think about.
“I don’t know much about Jake’s mom,” I stalled, looking around desperately for a way to leave. Jake’s father closed the space between us, and I felt the crush of panic avalanching down on me fast.
“She was wild.” He smiled, and it looked just like Jake’s smile minus all the warmth and sweetness. The air in my lungs felt bogged down, like I couldn’t push it out and let fresh air in. I was suffocating. His next words were coiled and slimy, too close to my ear, his breath hot on my neck. “She was a little bit of a smartass. And really, really hot. I was smart, from a strict family…well, you know that whole thing.”
“Mmmhmm,” I murmured. Instinct overrode my panic, and I took a few quick steps to the side. As soon as there was a little distance, my brain stopped clattering around in my head.
“I think I saw in her what you see in him.” He followed me, and his lazy demeanor was nothing but a trick. He was quick and agile, and he had me closed-in in the twisting labyrinth of too much antique furniture. He put one hand at my elbow and slid it up and down along my forearm slowly. “I get you. Brenna.” My name dripped out of his mouth, and the sound of it made me cringe.
Finally my voice came back. “You left Jake. You left Saxon. Never mind their mothers. You don’t get me at all.” I tried to just run out, which went against my ingrained manners. But this had gone so far beyond fake niceties.
He tightened his fingers on my arm just hard enough to hurt. “You don’t really fit into this world, do you? Sweetheart, you should enjoy your time with Jake. He’s not hardwired to settle down, and soon he’ll have his pick of anyone he wants.” His eyes were hateful, and I felt a lump in my throat that I couldn’t swallow around. He chuckled, a soft, mean sound. “Soon you’llbe the girl from the wrong side of the tracks. As far as Mama D and these biddies go anyway. But being the good girl all the time can get pretty old anyway, right?”
I wanted Jake. I wanted my mother.
I didn’t attempt to engage in any more ludicrous conversation. I yanked my arm away from his grasp and wiggled past a table full of delicate vases, jarring it with my hip and making every priceless trinket dance precariously. I wanted out. Every hair on my entire body stood on end, and a chill slithered up and down my back.
Gerald grabbed my arm again just as I made it around an old embroidered couch. “C’mon, honey. I was just making conversation. I never thought you’d be the uptight type.” I tried to pull away, but Jake’s dad took my other arm, loosened his hold and rubbed up to my shoulders. He made a low noise in his throat and massaged me a little. “First love.” His laugh puffed against my neck, and I twisted away from it. “Gotta love that, Brenna.”
Footsteps came down the hall, and my entire body went slack with relief.
Jake entered the living room and took one look at my face. I felt tears stab at my eyes, and I shook my head to let him know that I was notalright. He flew across the room, and every inch closer made my muscles relax minutely.
“What’s going on?” he demanded, his eyes hard on his father’s face.
The room was way too quiet. He looked down at Gerald’s hands, still on my shoulders, and his eyes flashed with fury. “What the hell is going on?” he repeated, his voice icy. His dad let go of my arms, and Jake grabbed my wrist and pulled me to him.
“Just chatting with your pretty lady, Jake.” Gerald walked over to the liquor cart at the side of the couch and poured himself a huge glass of something amber that smelled like paint thinner.
Jake eyed his father and his scowl was deep with disgust. “Are you okay?” he asked me quietly. I opened my mouth, but he shook his head and rubbed a hand up and down my arm. “Don’t say anything. I can see you’re not.” He turned to his father. “What were you talking about, Gerald?”
“Life. Love. Nothing too important.” He took a long sip of his drink and cocked an eyebrow at Jake, ignoring me completely. His flippant style was so at odds with the idea of someone who was supposed to be an adult, someone who was supposed to be a father. It shook my sense of right.
Jake narrowed his eyes at his father, then looked at me. “Keep away from him, okay? This family is more than a little screwed up.” He put his arm around my waist and we walked into the dining room.
My lungs felt pinched. The minute we were out of the room, I had to grab onto a table to steady myself, stop my shaking hands, pull my breath in and out slowly. Tears crept down my face even though I felt like I was making a huge deal out of what wound up being nothing.
“Bren? Jesus Christ, what the fuck did he doto you?” He pulled my weight into his arms and pressed my head to his chest.
“Nothing. He didn’t really do anything. It was just…this sounds so dumb, but he talked to me. Like, kind of sexy, I guess? It just felt really weird. And creepy. You know? From an adult. And, um, your dad.” Jake’s hand ran wide, slow circles on my back and the gentle rhythm eased me.
“I’ll fucking kill him.” Jakes voice wobbled, and I grabbed him hard and squeezed.
“Fuck him. Don’t even think about him again, okay? I’m fine, and now I know to stay the hell out of his way.” I put my hands on either side of his face, because he was staring back into the living room, murderous rage like warpaint on his face. Jake’s anger was always especially freaky for me, because he was usually such a mellow, laid-back guy. “Forget it.”
“He gets away with shit all the time. He’s a fucking soul-sucking life-wrecker. Who the hell does he think he is?” Jakes entire body trembled slightly with fury.
“Don’t,” I urged. “Don’t even worry about him. Soon we’ll be home, and we can forget about him and all his shitty, selfish behavior. Okay?”
I led him to the dining room, where there were people suddenly coming out of the woodwork. Where the hell they’d been twenty minutes ago, I’d have loved to know, but I was just happy to be part of a big group where I didn’t have to worry about Gerald’s lechery. Jake slid his eyes over to me a few times during dinner, then looked at Gerald, but he didn’t say anything else about the whole thing.
When Mama D and my mother came in late, Jake stood and walked to my mom without bothering to tell me what was going on. He took her hand and led her away, to the open balcony doors. In a minute, my mother rushed over to me, her eyes shooting daggers at Jake’s dad.
They pulled me out, and the other people in the dining room attempted a hush so they could overhear, but Mama D, with her eyes on us the whole time, wouldn’t allow it. She talked loudly and must have said something funny, because everyone laughed hard, and I could hear conversation pick up just after we left.
“Brenna.” Mom’s eyes, twilight-sky blue and watery with unshed tears, zeroed in on me. “What happened?” Her voice jerked and wobbled.
“Nothing,” I said, almost automatically. “He was just being…weird I guess. He told me that he and I were alike because we both liked rebels or whatever. And he grabbed my arm really hard and told me that Jake would be meeting a lot of new people, then he rubbed my shoulders and said something about first love.” I was trying to tone it down for my mother, but my head was spinning a little.
Jake’s nostrils flared. The tears that had been a threat in my mom’s eyes slid out of the corners and down her cheeks. Like a reflex, I felt my own eyes brim full of prickly tears.
“That fucking bastard,” my mother hissed, and I laughed a little with relief while she crushed her arms around me.
She was busy comforting me.
I was busy being comforted.
Jake marched back into the dining room.
I would always kind of regret that I didn’t get to see what actually happened. Later on, Saxon would say the exact same thing.
As the story goes, Jake tapped Gerald on the shoulder, stepped back so his father could stand, then punched him so hard he fell into the roasted whatever that was in the middle of the table.
Mama D screamed, which was apparently pretty weird for her. Jake’s father actually blacked out from a combination of way too much alcohol and the impact of Jake’s fist. A few aunts got hysterical. A few uncles stood and screamed at Jake. Mom and I had already rushed to the arched doorway that led to the dining room and stood, completely shocked, as chaos unfolded in front of our eyes.
Jake walked away from the whole thing, kissed me right in front of my mother, and turned to her and said, “Mrs. Blixen, I’m sorry to cut your stay short, but I’d like to go home now. Would you and Brenna mind coming along?”
At this point my mother had the great luck of an entire audience of snobs for her reply.
“We’d love to join you Jake. I’m getting tired of all the trash around here,” my mom said.
We went upstairs, packed our bags, and drove straight home. It seemed surreal, leaving so fast, the pines whipping by us, the enormous cloistered houses all shacked up on the shore of the gigantic lake like one big, strange dream.
When Jake dropped us home, I only spent a minute on the porch with him. He kissed me and told me that he had to have a long talk with his stepfather, and that he would call me in the morning.
I walked into my house, our house, devoid of any priceless antiques, with average windows and sticky doors, and a slightly musty smell whenever we left it shut up for more than three days. There was no big lake or dock or garage filled with a fleet of boats. But I had never, ever seen anything as beautiful as my own house. Mom and I sat at the dining room table quietly. She made us a pot of coffee, and once we started talking, we just couldn’t stop.
I realized that Mom thought that I was having the time of my life, and I thought she was having the time of hers, and really we both felt lost and out of place and too polite to say enough.
“It was kind of a godsend that Jake punched that drunk asshole and got us kicked out,” Mom said, then sipped her coffee politely.
I laughed, first a little, then loud and long. “Yeah. Jake has issues with punching people over me.”
Mom raised her eyebrows. “He’s done this before?”
“Um, yeah.” I paused, unsure what to do, but since I had gone this far, I figured I could tell her the rest. “Saxon? He and Jake got in a fight over me months ago, and Jake knocked him out.”
Mom pursed her lips in clear disapproval, then her brow furrowed for a few long minutes. “You know, Jake Kelly is a good guy. He knows his own mind, and he doesn’t get swayed easily. And he obviously cares about you.”
I was holding my breath. This is what I had waited for my mother to say for so long, it felt strange that she would just be saying it now, as if it weren’t what I had been dying to hear for almost an entire year.
“He does really care.” I poked at the handle of my coffee mug and watched the creamy brown liquid slosh dangerously near the edge. “I’m glad he got to see his real family. And I’m glad I got to see him around them. It just shows that he doesn’t get hung up on what other people think of him or expect from him.”
“He has a good, strong character. And it doesn’t hurt that he’s very good-looking.” My mom winked, then yawned, this cute, big-mouthed yawn. “Oh, Bren, I have to get to bed. Mmm, how nice to sleep in my own bed! Thorsten will be surprised that we’re home so early.” She kissed my head and put her coffee cup in the sink. Before she went up the stairs she stopped. “Bren?”
“Yeah, Mom?” I asked as I put my cup in the sink.
“Are you and Jake having sex?”
The question sat heavy in the room for a few long seconds.
“No, Mom,” I said without whining or sounding irritated. It was a fair question on her part. Really fair, in fact. “He wants to wait.”
She shook her head. “He’s a good guy, Bren.”
I went to my bedroom with a light heart. Mom approved of Jake! It didn’t matter that his entire snooty family had pretty much ostracized me; my smart mom had figured it all out and seen Jake’s innate awesomeness.
And it did feel amazing to be in my own bed. I stretched over the cover and let out a long, girly moan of pure happiness. I felt tired, but not sleepy at all. I planned to call Evan and tell her everything, but first I popped open my computer and saw that I had four messages in my email. From Saxon.
I opened the first one.
Blix,
I’m in deep here. Lots of shit going down. How does your cell get reception in Europe, but not in Buttfuck, NY? Give me a holler when you get this.
Sax
The next three were variations of the first, all vague and whiny and kind of desperate. For Saxon. I picked up my cell. It was almost midnight. Saxon had always been a night owl, but he was a working man now. What if this wasn’t a good time?
I figured he probably set his phone to vibrate when he didn’t want it to ring, so I took the plunge and called.
His voice coiled in my ears, as sexy and smoky as always. “Hey, Gorgeous,” he practically crooned into the phone. “Where have you been all my life?”
I sighed, thoughts of his infamous sex-phone debacle still buried deep in my brain. “Saxon are you drinking again? God, you get sappy when you’re drunk.”
“Shut up and go with it, Blix,” he hissed. Louder he said, “That sounds sweet. So when are you coming down to this hole to see me?”
“Where are you again?” I searched my memory for the name of the little Jersey town he’d been sent to rot in. “Oh, Lodi, right?”
“That’s it,” he said, his voice so sunny and happy I was a little freaked out. “Well, I’ll call you, okay, babe?”
“Um, alright, Saxon.”
The connection clicked off, and I was left staring at my cell phone wondering what had happened to Saxon in the matter of a few weeks. I had already talked to Evan and was completely ready for bed when the phone rang again, and I dove for it, thinking it had to be Jake.
“Hey Blix,” Saxon said, and I could hear the smile around the new sound; was it worry?
“Hey Saxon.” I snuggled under the blankets. “What’s up?”
“How’s life with my big-shot grandma and her league of extraordinary assholes?”
I laughed at that. “It was hell on earth. Then your dad got a little frisky, and Jake punched him in the face. So we kind of got voluntarily booted out.”
“Jake punched Gerald?” Saxon crowed.
“Oh yeah. Knocked him on the table.” I couldn’t keep the admiration out of my voice. Wow, did Jake Kelly ever find new and awesome ways to turn me on.
“That little fuck,” Saxon grumbled. “He’s punch happy! I wish I could have seen it. Shit, I wish I could have thrownit.”
“It was pretty deserved.” I bit my lip, remembering the creepy scene that led to the whole debacle. “Sorry I didn’t call sooner. Your family’s place is like a huge dead zone.”
“In so many ways,” Saxon drawled. “It’s cool, Blix. I’ve been kind of screwing things up with this really cool girl I met. So, since I’ve already royally screwed up any chance of romance between us, I thought you might be the girl to help me.”
“How about the fact that there’s hardly anyone who will talk to you anymore?” I laughed, but Saxon was strangely quiet. Much as he gave off the whole tough persona, it was sometimes depressingly easy to bring Saxon down, and I always hated myself for doing it, no matter how unintentional it might have been.
“That’s no joke.” His voice clanked out, heavy and sad for a minute. Then he switched gears. “So, you know I’m not going to throw that toxic-ass ‘L’ word around. It gives me the fucking heebie-jeebies. But say I might be hedging right around something kind of like it with someone smart and funny and really, really hot. But she likes an older guy who’s all those lame things girls go for.”
“What lame things?” I asked, unable to keep the grin off of my face.
“You know, he’s nice and has a job and doesn’t deal or do drugs and goes to college,” Saxon rattled off, and I could practically hear him rolling his eyes over the phone.
“He sounds perfect. Tell her to date him and leave her alone,” I told him. Again, no joking back or laughter from Saxon.
“Blix, I reallylike this girl.”
“Wow.” I sat up in my bed for a minute. “You don’t just want to get in her pants?”
“Probably won’t. She’s under lock and key by her crazed parents. And she’s a Catholic school girl. I can’t remember, do they uphold the stereotype or defy it?”
He was trying to be cute and funny, but I could hear the underlying desperation in his voice.
“This is real?” I asked, my voice a little shaky.
“Yep.” He popped his lips around the word. “As real as anything I’ve ever felt.”
“Saxon!” I said and stopped because I just wasn’t sure what else there was to say. A teeny tiny part of me felt a little jealous that he’d moved on to someone else. Despite my constant gripes about him, I had always had an extra soft place in my heart for Saxon. A bigger part of me felt like this was a really good thing and exactly what I’d been waiting for since our final relationship fracture. “This is a big deal. This is real!”
“Yeah.” He sighed. “And, if you can believe it, my natural charms just aren’t cutting it with her. I’m going kind of bat shit over it. What do you think?”
“I don’t know.” I was still trying to wrap my brain around the idea of Saxon in love. Saxon. In love. With someone who was not me. Despite the prickle of weirdness, this was…good. And I was so curious. “Tell me about her.”
I heard the creak of bedsprings. I wondered what his room at his aunt’s looked like. He breathed a long breath out. “First of all, she works so hard, it’s almost sick. She’s a roller-skating waitress and she makes it all look figure-skater easy, but it’s hot, heavy, thankless work, and she does hours on end, no complaints. She took her skates off yesterday and her socks were bloody. Her feet were blistered and broken open from breaking in new skates. Can you imagine that?” he marveled.
I couldn’t. It seemed incredibly painful. But more difficult to imagine was Saxon feeling so much sympathy and admiration for a girl he liked. This was huge and all the details only excited my curiosity. “Tell me more.”
He was in the swing now. “She’s smart. I mean, life smart and generally smart. She reads a lot and gets good grades. She wants to go to college, but her parents’ place is on its way to tanking, so who knows. She has this great hair. It’s so dark brown, it’s almost black. And it smells so fucking good, Blix. And her tits–”
“Hardy har,” I interrupted and he laughed.
“Sorry. Listening to myself being all mushy gets old fast. I have to keep it real.” I heard him jangling something in the background.
“What’s that sound?”
“Sorry. My keys. I’ve become a fucking fidgeter.”
“Shouldn’t you start chain smoking right about now?” I leaned back on my pillow and imagined Saxon with his mouth quirked in a half-smile, blowing out a long, steady stream of bluish smoke.
“Are you encouraging me?” His laugh was a happy rumble. “I think Aunt Helene is a little allergic to smoke, so I won’t do it around her or at home. And at work, I don’t get a fucking second. Goddamn slave drivers,” he harped cheerily. “So I’ve hardly been able to get through a pack this entire week.”
Wow. It was like Saxon had gone into his own little cocoon and was coming out a healthier, happier, less grumpy butterfly. “What’s her name, Saxon?”
“Cadence,” he said. “Cadence Erikson.”
“Did you try just asking her out?” I suggested, nestling my arm under my head and cradling the phone closer to my ear. He had practically turned my knees to jelly when he asked me out the first time.
“She’s kind of with the college guy. They aren’t right for each other, though,” he said confidently.
“Is he nasty to her?” My fingertips traced the seams of my pillowcase.
“Nah.” Saxon’s admission was flippant, like that didn’t matter one way or another. “I mean, he’s perfect as far as meat-head assholes go. He’s just not it for Cadence, you know?”
“No, I don’t.” I laughed softly. “Maybe you should just let them be.”
“Nope.” Saxon’s voice snagged with an edge of determination I’d never heard before. “This ain’t love I’m busting in on, Bren. With you and Jake…” He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “With you and Jake,” he started again, “I was crashing a party I had no business being at. With Cadence, I’m the one she’s gonna love. Once she realizes that I’m not a total asshole.”
“What do you need?” This was real, I realized. I didn’t know if it was real for Cadence, but it was for Saxon. A little part of me wondered what kind of girl she was if she wasn’t attracted to Saxon. I knew it wasn’t just me. He was like a wild animal you saw and had the overwhelming urge to tame.
“I need help, Blix. And I don’t have a damn soul to turn to. I only have you.” Saxon’s voice was worried.
I knew how he felt. Alone. Out of place. Put down. I knew it all. “I’ll figure something out. I promise. Can I call you tomorrow?”
“Yeah. I go into work around noon.” I could hear the relief in his voice.
“Sweet dreams, Saxon.”
“You have no idea.” he laughed softly.
We clicked off and I stared up at my ceiling, my thoughts running like crazy. How was I going to get to Saxon? What could I do to help him? Did I even want to?
I did. I would. I had to.
My head was swimming. I wished Jake was with me. I didn’t want to call him, but I wanted to know what happened between him and his father.
Jake had been worried that he’d changed this summer, but any changes he’d made were just for the better, as far as I was concerned. He was more confident, more sure of himself. I fell asleep thinking about Jake and woke up to my mom brushing my bangs back.
“Brenna?” I could see her smile through the blur of sleep in my eyes. “Sweetheart, are you awake?”
“Yes,” I said groggily. “Is it late?”
“Not very, honey.” She twisted a length of my hair around her finger and let it fall in a long coil. “They asked if I could do a late summer session. One of the professors broke her leg. Do you remember Angela with the freckles?”
“Oh, that sucks.” I yawned and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. “Poor Angela. That’s great for you, though, Mom.”
“I kind of hate this.” My mom twisted her hands, her voice a little wobbly. “We just got back and things were so hard for you. I feel like we hardly saw each other, and this will eat the rest of our summer up.”
I rubbed her hand in mine, looked into her great blue-grey eyes and at her the lips she was chewing with worry and felt so good. It felt good knowing that she was doing something she loved again. “You need to do this. I’m fine. Jake isn’t going back to Zinga’s for a while. Devon wanted to hang out. Kelsie will be around. All good friends. I’ll have fun and be careful. I promise. Okay?”
“You’re growing up so fast.” She bit her lips together. “I’m really proud of you.”
“Thank you.” I petted her cheek with my hand. “I’m proud of you, pursuing your doctoral degree. Seriously, I’m so happy for you.”
She kissed me hard and then she was gone, back to her job, and I was alone. Well, not completely alone.
I was just out of the shower when I heard the crunch of tires on the driveway.
Jake!
I ran out, barefoot, damp-haired, and jumped into his arms.
“Hey, you.” His smile was slow and warm just before he kissed me. “It was weird that I didn’t get to wake up and see you first thing.”
“I know. I thought about you last night. Is it all cool? With your step-father?” I tucked his overlong hair behind his ears.
“Yeah.” He nodded. “You know, some people are just always there for you. He’s one of them, so I’m lucky like that. I was actually wondering if you wanted to take a little road trip?”
“Sure.” Me and Jake, alone in the truck, windows down, sun out, the last of summer ours to enjoy…it sounded perfect. “Where do you want to go?”
“How does Lodi sound?” Jake grinned.
Chapter Eight
Saxon
“Operation Convince Cadence I’m Not An Asshole” wasn’t exactly going the way I had hoped when I started my mission.
I guess what I’d envisioned was Cadence spending time with me, my natural charm wearing away her ironclad defenses, and her deciding to dump her lump of a boyfriend and fall into my arms instead.
But the truth was, Cadence wasn’t really much of a romantic, and it wound up that I kind of was one. Because all of my jokes and wooing and gifts and gestures didn’t change a few solid facts.
1) I was a ‘crackhead’. Granted, most people stopped calling me that once I proved my chops as a waiter, then subbed a day or two at the grill, where men were made. But, there was no forgetting that I was here because I couldn’t control a drug addiction and rehab hadn’t exactly worked for me.
2) I had no vehicle. In Sussex County, where the roads were impossibly long, windy, and still dirt, that would have been a tragedy. Here it might have been less of one, except for the fact that I knew no one and went nowhere other than Aunt Helene’s house, the restaurant, food stores, home improvement stores, and stores that sold silly old lady shit like knitting needles and doilies and porcelain cherubs.
3) I wasn’t a rotten, hardworking college schmuck. Nope. I was a lazy, entitled, drug-addled semi-genius. Or at least I was before my ass landed in Lodi and started the Saxon Reformation. I wasn’t sure what I was now. Except crazy about this batshit girl. Who looked at the facts and made decisions.
