Текст книги "Junk Miles"
Автор книги: Лиз Реинхардт
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Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 20 страниц)
I cried out in the space of the truck, alone, just me and Jake, the two of us happy and loved and loving, and I didn’t know if it was possible that life could feel better. Ever. When I finally came back to reality, I was in Jake’s arms. We sat together, silent and contented in the long, cool night until it was time for me to go back home, to go back to whatever normal life would be like after we had been so close.
Chapter Twenty-One
One week later, I was scheduled for another hair appointment. I thought it was crazy, but Mom said that since we didn’t spend anything on the second prom dress, it was a deal. Only my mother would come up with that kind of insane logic and manage to trick me into believing it all the way to the salon.
In reality, I loved the time she and I spent together. It was fun to have her fuss over me and gossip with Darlene like we were all grown women. This time my toenails were bright red, to match my dress, and so were my fingernails. It seemed a shame since my French polishes were barely chipped, but Mom just rolled her eyes when I made that point.
This time Darlene went in the complete opposite direction with my hair. She pulled the flat iron through it until it was pin straight and so shiny it shone like glass. I was going to argue that I could have straightened it at home, but when Darlene finished, I realized that I could never have worked the wonders she did. She concocted some kind of magic mixture of creams and gels and brushes, and she had done it all with half an eye on my head, chatting ninety miles an hour to my mother.
When she was done, I was slack-jawed with shock. She combed a really deep side part, and it made my whole face look different. Then she took out a red silk flower Mom brought and fixed it to a bobby pin that she slid in and reinforced with other pins so that it would hold the entire night just over my ear. My makeup was smoky and sultry. It was all very prom appropriate.
Back home, it felt a little like dйjа vu. Mom got me into my dress and zipped me up, and I stepped into the same magic silver heels. Thorsten came in to snap pictures, and finally, I heard the crunch of tires in the driveway that sent my heart skipping.
Jake!
Jake was coming to see me off. He was glad I was going, in that resigned, he’s-a-great-boyfriend-so-he’s-not-going-to-worry-at-least-to-my-face way. When he got out of the truck, I was already outside to meet him. He whistled low and long.
“Holy hell, Bren.” He stood next to the truck, immobile. “You look damn fine.”
I ran up to him as well as I could in my column of a dress. “Do you like it? It was Mom’s.”
“Damn you look hot!” He picked me up around the waist and spun me around easily. “Now, I know this is only your second prom and all, so keep in mind, the way we ended our prom night was highly out of the norm. That’s not usually what happens.” He raised his eyebrows sternly.
“I know that,” I scoffed. “It usually ends with sex on the beach, right?”
He swatted my butt affectionately. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” He wrapped an arm around my waist and walked me in. “So who’s this guy again?”
“His name is Nate, and he’s very nice.” I purposefully failed to mention the ‘little crush’ portion of the date.
“Is he single?” Jake’s voice got a little low and mean.
“Yes,” I admitted. “But he knows I’m with you.”
“I’m going to stare him down,” he warned. “No contact, cause I’m not a psycho, but I am going to do a little eyeball intimidation.”
“No you’re not.” I shook a warning finger at him. “Or I’ll dirty dance with him all night to spite your overprotective ass.”
“Alright.” He sighed and pulled me aside for a few hurried kisses before we made it to the front door.
Thorsten and Mom said hello to Jake, and the air in the room was slightly uncomfortable. Mom’s idea of me ‘dating other guys’ didn’t involve Jake showing up beforehand. But I wanted him to see my dress and my hair. It was exciting, and I didn’t like for him to miss it. After a minute of chatting with my parents, I told Mom that I wanted to show Jake some of the pictures I’d put together from Paris.
“Okay.” She didn’t really attempt to disguise her reluctance. “Just remember, they’ll be here soon. You don’t want to hold the group up.”
“We’ll be fast, Mom,” I promised, dragging Jake to my room.
Once we were in, he groaned a little. “She hates me again?”
“She always hated you to some degree,” I said cheerfully. “Look.” It was a big leather scrapbook. I had filled it with black pages and did all of the pictures in black and white with a white border around them. Then I had put them in with little tabs, just like old fashioned pictures would have had.
Jake sat next to me and we opened the book. It started with Jake’s first group of pictures, plus the ones he’d taken but hadn’t put up before I called him to break up.
“They look really good.” He traced a finger along the edges.
We looked at his pictures of me in all the places that he made me go that last day before Paris. Then there were some of the pictures I’d snapped when we landed; a coffee shop at the airport, some road signs in French with the countryside a blur behind them, the view from my dorm window, fresh breads stacked in the windows of a baker’s, a stray cat in front of a fancy iron grate.
Then there were Jake’s angry pictures, including two of Nikki. Those two hurt the most, for me. She looked very posed, doing her pouty/kissy/seductive look. She was in Jake’s room. In his room. That stung hard, but I didn’t like to ignore things just because they kind of sucked. I had learned it was better to just face them, air them in the open, and keep them from being secretive and powerful.
But it still hurt to see them.
“Why would you have put those in?” Jake’s voice was a little sharp.
“Because that’s what happened when I was gone.” I glared at him. “We’re not pretending it didn’t happen, so why not have the documented evidence?”
He flipped the page and there were pictures of Saxon, his tattooed back, him standing in front of my window before we went out.
We looked through the whole thing quietly, then he closed the book and we sat together for a long minute.
“When you broke up with me, I listened to Ethan Frome,” he said quietly.
“The recording I made for you?” What could make the most depressing book in the world even more depressing? Probably listening to a recording of your ex-girlfriend read it while she’s macking it with your brother. Geez, Jake really embraced the Wharton.
He nodded.
“Why would you have wanted to hear my voice then? You didn’t even want to talk to me on the phone.” I twined my hand with his.
“I never didn’t want to hear your voice.” He rubbed my hand with his thumb. “And I did want to talk to you on the phone. But I felt bad that we’d split up, and I didn’t want to give in to you until I’d had time to think it all through. You’re reallyeasy to give in to. Especially for me.”
“Did you like the book?”
“Yeah, I did.” He picked my hand up and examined the bright red polish on my fingernails. “I mean, I felt bad for Ethan Frome. Like, what else was he supposed to do when he saw Mattie? I felt like I knew what he was feeling when he first saw her, because that’s what I felt like the minute I first saw you.”
“Really?” I was surprised. We had never really talked about it too much.
“Oh yeah. Probably even more than Ethan felt, because I had seen a lot of good-looking girls, but when I saw you, it was like I knew you were something special.” He rubbed his neck self-consciously. “And all my stupid decisions, those could have been my Zeena, you know. I thought about what it would have been like to not have the option to be with you.” He smiled at me, a slow, seductive smile that made me feel like shimmying out of my silk dress and into his arms. “That was the minute I knew I’d never let you go completely. I thought you might need your own time to figure stuff out, but in the end, if I had any say in it, we’d be together.”
“So you don’t want us to run our sled into a tree?” I attempted to be funny to keep my hammering heart from beating right out of my chest.
He laughed. “No way. No sledding tragedies for us. And I’m glad you were smart enough to take me back.”
I laughed and grabbed him, and the two of us were wrapped around each other when Mom knocked, frowning a little.
“Kelsie and her friends are here.” She trained her laser eyes on Jake.
Jake pulled away from me reluctantly. “Let’s go out,” he said with a strained smile, set on getting back in Mom’s good graces despite the ultimate impossibility of it.
When we got to the kitchen, Kelsie squealed and made me turn around. She looked like an angel. Her dress was gathered ivory with sparkly beading all over it. She had curled her hair and done her own makeup, and she looked gorgeous. Her date, Chris, looked handsome too. Nate came to me with a plastic box. It had a red rose on a rubbery wrist band. I held my hand out so he could put it on my wrist, then kissed him on the cheek, pointedly ignoring Jake’s withering glares. Nate looked nervous. Mom and Thorsten snapped pictures all the way to the door.
Jake walked out with our group and kissed me despite Mom’s narrowed eyes. “Have fun. Be careful.” He squeezed my hand tight.
“Don’t worry.” I kissed him again. “I’ll call you when I get home.”
“I’ll be up. You know that. No matter how late,” he added, as if he were always up late. Jake was one of those people who would go to bed before nine and wake up by seven every day by choice.
We climbed into Chris’s Volvo and waved goodbye. Nate smiled at me nervously. We chatted about Folly and school and people we mutually knew on the way there. Frankford’s prom was held at a hall, not the same one as Tech’s, but they were all kind of strangely familiar after you’d been to one.
We filed in and did the formal picture thing.
“Thanks for coming with me,” Nate said when he had his arms awkwardly around me. We smiled at the photographer, a bored-looking middle-aged lady.
“No problem.” We stepped down and went to our assigned table. “It’s fun to get to go to prom.”
“Well, it’s really cool that you went with me.” He cleared his throat. “And you look really pretty.”
“Thanks, Nate.” I smiled as reassuringly as I could. “You look really nice. I like your tux.”
“Um, I can’t really do the fast dance stuff, unless it’s like moshing, but if you want to slow dance, we could do that.” He was cute in a metal-faced, neck-tattooed way.
We went out onto the dance floor and he put his hands at my hips, so I put mine at his neck and decided to have fun dancing like it was our eighth-grade dinner dance.
“So, is Saxon going to, like, beat my ass?” Nate’s eyes made a nervous check of the room. Presumably for a sneak attack from Saxon?
I looked at him questioningly. “Saxon isn’t my boyfriend, Nate. Jake is. The guy who was at my house.”
“Oh.” Nate’s eyebrows pushed together for a minute. “Just, ah, Saxon said that he was going to beat my ass. I don’t really know him, so I figured it was because he found out you and I were, like, going. Even though it’s not, you know, a date or anything.” There were a few beads of sweat on Nate’s forehead.
I sighed. Between Jake glaring at him at my house and Saxon telling everyone that he was going to ‘beat Nate’s ass,’ it would be no wonder if poor Nate was right at the edge of a heart attack.
“I don’t know. I mean, about Saxon.” I looked him right in the eye and said firmly, “Just ignore him. He tends to talk a lot. A lot more than he should, in fact.”
As if on cue, Saxon appeared next to Nate. “Beat it, Nate. Or I really will beat your ass.”
“Excuse me.” We stopped dancing and Nate looked like he might faint. I glared at Saxon. “I’m dancing this dance with Nate. I’d tell you to ask me again later, but I have a feeling that I’m not going to want to dance with you at all tonight.”
Saxon’s eyes were black as pitch and sparkling with fury. “Finish your damn dance, Nate. But she’s not gonna give it up for you anyway. If you want a sure thing, I’ll hook you up with Tara Jordan. She’s technically my date, but she’s a little tipsy, so she’d be happy to be your date instead.”
“Saxon!” I cried.
But Nate’s face looked eager. I rolled my eyes at him. “It’s cool, Brenna. Do you want to dance with Saxon?” He was already looking around for Tara. So much for sweet Nate.
“Whatever.” He was gone like a birddog on the scent.
Saxon grabbed me and pulled me close. “C’mon Blix, don’t be pissed. It was agony watching you march around with that goon. I had to cut in before I forked my own eyes out.” He spun me around and dipped me low. “You look fucking hot.”
“Thanks,” I said flatly. I didn’t return the compliment. I knew he already knew how good he looked. He was wearing all black; black suit, black shirt, black socks and shoes. The only break in the outfit was a red tie. Like he knew I’d be wearing a red dress. Everything he wore was fitted perfectly and expensive looking. He knew how to dress, that was for sure. I needed to get my mind off how good he looked quickly. “So how did it work out with the Amazon?”
“What?” He looked totally confused.
“The girl. From the field hockey team?” I reminded him.
“Oh, her.” He smiled a smug smile. “If you’re asking if I screwed her, then yeah. And she’s as athletic in bed as she is on the field.”
“Great. That’s exactly what I wanted to know.” He tried to pull me closer, but I kept a little distance between us. “Thanks.”
“But we’re not an item.” He spun me neatly, and the momentum threw me right into his arms, nice and snug. “Neither are Tara and I. So if you still want some action, my car’s in the lot.”
“Just stop.” I stopped dancing and he pulled me back into his arms.
“Stop what?” He wrapped an arm around my waist.
“Stop this.” I pulled away from him. We were in the middle of the dance floor with two feet between us and couples moving awkwardly to avoid bumping into us.
“What do you want?” he asked, his black eyes bright.
“I want to be able to come to a prom and not be harassed by you.” When I saw the look of disgust on his face, I grabbed his hand. “Really? You want to know what I want? I want to talk to you without all of this bullshit between us. I want to be able to have you as a friend.”
“Not fucking possible.” He stalked off of the dancefloor.
I followed him, because, as always, nothing felt finished with Saxon. “Wait.”
“Why?” He threw his hands up. “You can’t imagine how sick I am of all of this, Brenna. All of this is just bullshit.”
“All of what? Prom?”
“You know exactly what I mean.” He closed the gap between us, stuck his face next to mine, and spoke low, for my ears alone. “Not prom. My whole fucking life.It’s bullshit.”
“Well, whose fault is that?” I pushed at his chest. “You want what you can’t have, you take whatever is the easiest thing you can reach. You let Jake go, you won’t accept friendship with me; what do you expect?”
I had followed him all the way out to the foyer. He pulled me into an empty dining room, dark and quiet compared to the wild, music-filled ballroom.
“I have fucked things up beyond repair.” He pronounced each word deliberately and turned his back to me.
“What? What have you fucked up?” I put a hand on his shoulder and turned him towards me.
“You and me.” He ran a hand over the short, shiny hair of his mohawk.
“I’m here, right? I’m talking to you. I’m with you. I’ll be your friend, if you want.”
“I do. And more.” He looked at me, his eyes begging.
“Well, learn to settle,” I snapped. “That’s all that bothers you in life? The one girl you were never compatible with doesn’t want to be your girlfriend?”
“There’s Jake, too.” He slumped into a chair.
“Jake’s an understanding guy. Didn’t you tell me that?” I sat in the chair next to his. “I know you gave him dance lessons.”
He looked up in surprise. “He told me that he’d kill me if I mentioned it.”
“Yeah, probably because he was embarrassed that he learned to dance from a dude.” I raised my eyebrows, waiting for him to answer back.
Saxon smiled, a tiny one at first, then wide across his entire face. “How did he do?”
“He tore it up. A regular Fred Astaire.” I sighed and got a warm feeling low in my gut when I thought back on that night. “We had a great time.”
“Yeah, well, he’s pretty light on his feet for a guy,” Saxon said wryly. He shook a cigarette from the pack in his pocket and lit it.
“You’re not allowed to smoke in here.” I pointed to the prominently displayed ‘no smoking’ sign in the room.
“I don’t give a shit.” He blew a long lungful of smoke into the air.
“So, why would Jake have asked you for help if he didn’t feel something other than hate for you?” I waved the smoke from his cigarette away from my face.
“Alright.” He blew smoke out in a long stream. “But when he finds out that I lied about us being brothers, he’s going to hate my guts. I guarantee it. That’s not the kind of shit you just get over, trust me, Blix.”
I grabbed his smoking hand, took his cigarette, and put it in my mouth. I lifted his hand, and pointed to the place where the long silver scar was, the same as Jake’s. I took a drag and blew the smoke out. “Tell me how you got this.”
He looked at me, shock robbing him of any ability to speak for a few long seconds. He finally sputtered, “How the hell did you know I had this scar?”
I shrugged. “Do you want me to tell you how you got it?”
“No one knows that. Unless Jake told you. But why would that old shit come up?” He took his cigarette back. “You smoke like a fucking nerd.”
I grinned at him. “I am a nerd. And Jake did tell me.”
“Why?” Saxon asked, and the look on his face was more anxiety than hope.
“Do you want to know? Or do you want things to just suck? Forever? Because as much as you bitch about being unhappy, you sure seem to do everything you can to stay that way.” I watched him take another drag.
“You’re such a bitch, Brenna.” He pointed his cigarette at me. “But you’re damn sexy. That makes your incessant bitching easier to take.”
“And you’re shitty company. I’m going back to the dance. You know, the big prom, full of people? People who are at least pretending to be happy and dancing and having fun. That sounds preferable to being here, in this smoky-ass room listening to you whine about how awful your life is.” I turned to leave, but Saxon grabbed my hand.
He pulled my wrist up to his lips and kissed it. “Tell me what you know about my scar.”
“I know that you and Jake became blood brothers.” I leaned close to him. “Because you wanted him to know that he was your brother, even if you didn’t really have the guts to tell him. But it worked.”
“What do you mean?” He narrowed his eyes at me.
I shook my head at his dense inability to see the truth. “He figured it out. He knows. He’s always known.”
“Jesus Christ, isn’t there anything you two haven’t fucking blabbed to each other about?” he snapped. He crushed his cigarette onto a china plate on the table and stalked out.
I watched Saxon leave and felt a strange chill settle over my skin. I walked back into the midst of the big, happy gathering, but my heart wasn’t into the dance. That changed when I saw Kelsie, who pulled me onto the dance floor, and made me forget Saxon’s drama for a little while. We danced until we glistened with sweat and had to go to the cooler bathrooms to put damp paper towels on our faces. I checked the hallways and the room Saxon had pulled me into, but he wasn’t around. Before I could worry too much, the DJ played something that made Kelsie drag me back onto the dance floor, and we didn’t stop for a second until the DJ took a break for dinner.
The meal was nice enough, but I couldn’t really enjoy it, since I kept craning my neck, trying to catch a glance of Saxon’s dark hair and all-black ensemble. I checked every table where any girl he’d chased in the last few weeks sat. It was an insanely long list, and I’m sure I forgot more than a few, but he was nowhere to be seen.
After dinner and a few more songs, I needed a break.
“Kelsie, I’m going to take a walk outside. Get some fresh air.” I put my lips close to her ear so she could hear me.
“Do you want company?” She fixed the flower in my hair absent-mindedly.
I did, but I could see her eyeing the dance floor. The lights had been dimmed, a slow song was playing, and Chris looked dapper in his tux.
“No thanks. I’ll be back in a few minutes. I just need to cool off. Then more dancing?”
“Definitely!” She squeezed my arm, kissed my cheek, and floated across the dance floor and into Chris’s waiting arms.
I went out into the open courtyard to breathe in some fresh air. I headed to the gazebo; this place had one just like the last place, complete with twinkle lights.
I climbed the springy wooden stairs and sat on one of the benches when I heard a scuffling noise beneath me. I leaned over the side and saw Saxon sitting in the mulch, a silver flask in his hand.
“Hey, beautiful,” he slurred. “Whaz going on?”
“Saxon, you’re drunk.” I leaned over farther and he smiled a huge, dopey grin.
“You look pretty up there. Like some fiery goddess. Come on down, baby.” He waved at me clumsily. “I got more here for you.”
I walked back down the steps, around to the back of the gazebo and squatted down in front of him. The smell of liquor coming off of him was so strong it stung my eyes when he breathed out.
“Wanna sip?” he offered, waving the flask under my nose.
“No.” I took the flask out of his hand. “I don’t think you can drive. Did you drive?” He didn’t answer. I shook his shoulder. “Saxon, how did you get here?” I asked loudly, as if increased volume might push through his liquor-soaked brain.
“My fucking bike.” He laughed to himself. “How’d’ya think, Blix?”
“Well, can someone come and get you? Can someone come and drive you home?”
“Lylee is screwing her way across the Mediterranean,” he said slowly. “And any friend I had, I screwed his girl. And girls don’t count as friends. Oh, ‘cept you, right, buddy?”
“Right.” I got a lump in my throat when I thought about the sad truth of Saxon’s social life.
“Sit by me, Blix.” He patted the mulch next to him. “Sit by your big fuck-up friend for a minute.”
I sat down next to him and put one arm around him. He leaned on my shoulder, then nestled his head against me and breathed in, a long, hard breath. “You smell so fuckingood.”
“You need to get out of here.” I was a little worried. I hadn’t dealt with many drunk people, but Saxon seemed really drunk. I didn’t know if he might have alcohol poisoning, and I wasn’t sure how I was going to get him home. I didn’t want to involve any more adults than we had to. It would suck if Saxon got suspended or in bigger trouble because of this. It might be all the excuse he needed to just up and quit everything.
I felt a warm, wet splotch on my collarbone and realized he was drooling, happily, in his noisy sleep. What if he threw up and choked on it? I pulled my cell phone out and dialed quickly.
“Hey baby,” Jake said. “You’re home early.”
“Jake, I’m at prom. But I need you. Can you come? Please?”
“Are you okay?” I heard him pick up his keys.
“I’m okay. I’m at the Lakeside. In Short Hills. Can you meet me behind the gazebo in the garden?”
“Yeah. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Call right back if you need anything at all.”
Chapter Twenty-two
The sky got darker and quiet. The only sound was the distant din of the music and cheering from the prom and the gentle snores from Saxon’s nose. I adjusted him slightly because my arm was cramping and my shoulder ached. His head jarred loosely against me. Was he okay? I felt my throat tighten. Maybe I should slap him awake or get him some coffee.
I tried to nudge him up, but he didn’t respond to my shakes and shoves. Then I heard the sound of footsteps running across the path.
Jake was there, looking confused. “Bren?”
“He’s really drunk.” My voice was thick with tears. I felt some of my worry subside at Jake’s entrance. “I didn’t know what to do.”
Jake eased me up by the hand, letting Saxon slump over. He held me close for a minute. “You did the right thing.” He kissed me. “I’m here. I’ll help him.”
“I don’t think he can sleep alone.” I glanced at him, all loose-limbed and drooling. “I don’t know if he’s alright.”
Jake crouched next to him. He slapped at his face a few times and Saxon’s eyes slitted open. “Piss off, brother,” Saxon croaked.
“Not a chance, asshole,” Jake said and smiled, then looked at me. “I’m going to take him home, but I want to take you first. Can you get me someone to help move him to the truck?”
“Let me help,” I pleaded. “I can carry half his weight. And I don’t really want anyone else to know. I think he kind of wanted to get caught.”
Jake snorted. “Sounds like Saxon.”
I heard Kelsie then. “Brenna! There you are! What’s going on?”
“Saxon got a little too drunk.” I waved my hand towards him. “We’re trying to get him out of here before any of the monitors notice, and he gets in serious trouble.”
Kelsie glanced down with her eyebrows drawn. “Do you guys need help?”
“Thanks. I think Bren and I have it. I’m going to drop Bren at home if that’s cool,” Jake answered.
“No problem,” Kelsie said. She made her way to my side and kissed me. “Be good. Call me when you get a chance, okay?” She eyed the two guys with me uncertainly, and I promised to call, letting her know with a look that I’d fill her in on the whole story later.
Jake and I half carried, half dragged Saxon to Jake’s truck and buckled him in, then cracked the window so the cold night air would blow on his face.
I sat in the middle, right next to Jake. He pulled onto the highway and put his arm around me. “This was a nice surprise.” He kissed my hair.
“Are you being serious?” I asked, not sure if he was.
“Well, a drunk brother sucks, but it’s nice to see you, especially the way you look tonight. I’m going to come out and say it; I was worried about you and that dress and all those drooling guys checking you out.” He leaned over and kissed my temple.
“Is he going to be okay, Jake?” I looked over and Saxon’s head flopped forward heavily, like he was a huge, punk ragdoll.
“No worries, Bren. I’m going to crash at Saxon’s with him tonight. I’ll drop him at his house, then drop you home, then I’ll go back to him,” Jake promised.
“Should we chance leaving Saxon alone?” I asked nervously.
“It’s only like ten minutes tops. So, other than Saxon pickling his liver, how was prom?”
“It was alright.” I shrugged and sighed. “Nate ditched me to try and skank Saxon’s date. Saxon whined to me the whole night. Though, we did dance a little.”
“Not a top-class prom experience like you had with Jake Kelly, huh?” He squeezed my shoulder gently.
“No.” I leaned against him. The middle seat only had a lap belt, so I didn’t usually sit so close to him. But it was nice. “I think Saxon is drunk because I kind of told him that you knew about the brother thing.”
Jake sighed, a long, tortured sound. “Jesus, Bren. Can’t you leave anything alone? I told you that he couldn’t handle it,” he muttered, but he didn’t sound very annoyed. Not really. I hoped.
“Are you pissed at me?” I smoothed my hand over his leg.
“No. I knew you weren’t going to be able to leave it all alone. It’s fine, Bren. There just isn’t any turning back at this point.” He kissed my hair. “But I know you probably had our best interests at heart. Or whatever. You’re a damn crazy woman.”
“Thanks,” I griped. We pulled into Saxon’s dark driveway and got out of the truck. Jake and I each took one shoulder and dragged him into the house, through the fancy foyer and pretentious living room, down the long hall to his room. Which was immaculate. I didn’t know if it was his doing or Carmela’s, but it was a vast improvement over the last time I had seen it.
We got the sheets back and hauled Saxon onto the bed. We turned him on his side. I took off his shoes and wrestled him out of his jacket and tie, then put the covers up around him and flopped next to Jake on the couch.
“Prom won’t be over for a couple of hours.” He ran a finger along my cheek. “Do you want to hang out here til you’re due back?”
It was strange to be with Jake in Saxon’s bedroom, but the night had been so weird in general, this just felt like one more insanity to add to a long list. I nestled into Jake’s arms in the dim quiet of Saxon’s room.
“I’m happy to stay here.”
Jake’s mouth found mine quickly and definitively. “I love you, Brenna. Whatever happens, know that.” He kissed my neck, flicking the woven butterfly clasps open with sure fingers.
His words made my spine stiffen. “What’s going to happen?” I asked, backing away.
He pressed his lips to the jutting bones around my collar, exposed by the gaping red fabric. “Nothing is,” he said, then moved his mouth lower. “I just said it to say it.”
“You don’t say anything to say it.” I pulled his head back up. “What did you mean by that?”
“Nothing, Bren.” But I knew he was trying too hard to move his hands and lips in a way that would make me forget or not pay any more attention.
“Tell me.” I pulled at his face, forcing him to look up at me.
“Nothing,” he repeated. “Like I said, it was just something to say.”
“Jake!” He stopped, but he didn’t lift his eyes to mine. “Tell me.”
“Next year is senior year for me,” he said finally, his voice low.
“I know that.” I hadn’t really thought about it much, mostly because it would mean that Jake moved on while I stayed behind, still looking at one more year of school while he was free to do whatever he wanted.
Part of me really hoped he did something incredible, something that would prove to every person who had ever doubted that Jake Kelly would ever amount to anything that he could go beyond everyone’s expectations. But a bigger part of me wanted, selfishly, Jake’s presence and calming love all the time, all through my own senior year. I wanted him to put his life on hold and wait for me to catch up, and I also wanted him to wait for me to tell him what his next step should be.
Because I didn’t trust that he could possibly know what to do next without me there to tell him. Not that I thought he was stupid. I just looked out for him in a way he couldn’t even do for himself. He’d been taught how to survive from circumstances, but that didn’t mean he could truly make good decisions for himself. He needed someone with perspective. And experience. Who cared about him. He needed me. Or at least, I wanted him to.
