Текст книги "Junk Miles"

Автор книги: Лиз Реинхардт

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“You’ve got skills.” I smiled when Saxon dipped me.

“Lylee put me in classes when I was a kid.”

I laughed when I imagined little Saxon ballroom dancing. He twirled me and pulled me back into his arms neatly. “Not bad, Blix. You’re good at following my lead.”

“I’m supposed to. This is ballroom dancing,” I pointed out.

“Don’t make excuses.” He whirled me around dizzily. “You just like following a big strong man.”

“If there was a guy like that around, I might follow him.”

We smiled. I laid my head on his chest as we swayed back and forth. “Talk to Jake recently?”

“No.” That one single word vibrated with emotion.

“Maybe you want to hook back up with me?”

“Saxon, I was able to stand you for two days. That’s it. I don’t think it’s going to work.” I looked at him, and he smiled his wide, cocky smile.

“I don’t really feel like this little experiment helped get you out of my system. Maybe we need to do a little more experimenting?” His voice slipped over my ears.

“I thought about that.” I looked up into his devastatingly handsome face.

“And?” he pressed eagerly.

“And I think we’re never going to get out of each others’ systems. Being attracted to you is like having lead poisoning.”

He pulled me closer. “Your flattery kills me. So you’re blaming me for poisoning you?”

“Exactly. Once you ingest lead, it’s never gone from your system. Remember all those Roman Caesars who went crazy? Lead poisoning. Incurable.” I leaned my head on his shoulder again. My personal poison.

“So I’m in there forever.” He pressed one large, warm hand to my heart.

I moved his hand down to just over my liver. “I think you’re actually here.” Then I raised his hand to my head. “And here. And the damage is permanent.”

“So your crazy will never go away?”

“No thanks to you,” I grumbled.

“So what do we do about it?” He put his nose close to my neck and breathed in deeply.

I didn’t really know the answer to that one. “I think we just stop trying so hard. And keep ourselves open.”

“Are you going to set up rules for us?” Saxon pulled me to him again.

“Nope. Remember, you’re half wild. Rules just make you crazier.”

“So you’re just going to exist in my world and try to resist me at every turn?” His black hair was so shiny I felt like I should be able to see my reflection in it. His black eyes glinted at the new challenge.

“It’s so typical that you would think of it as your world,” I said, but I didn’t feel any particular anger at him. I was just glad that he and I could be in a room and dance without anything crazy happening.

We spent the rest of the night eating, dancing, playing a really funny game of charades, eating some more, and before we knew it, the old year was almost gone. The adults cracked into bottles of champagne and were giddy and red-cheeked. Soon the countdown was on, and we were screaming the numbers, some of us in French, some in English. Then the ball dropped and everyone cheered and screamed and music played. Mom smacked a wet, happy kiss on my lips, then moved on to kiss the cheeks of all of her coworkers. Saxon was right there once she moved away.

“Ring in the New Year with me,” he said. “Brenna.”

He pulled me close to him, his hands sliding along the silk of my dress. He pulled me into his arms and put his lips on mine. And for a moment I felt them tremble with his uncertainty. That was sexier by far than any of his aggression or cocky assuredness. If he was always like that…well, I should be glad he wasn’t, because it would just complicate everything all over again. We kissed, softly, fully. I heard him make a noise between a grunt and a moan deep in his throat.

“Brenna,” he said again, then pulled away and smiled. He looked like he wanted to say something but didn’t know if he should or not. He opened his mouth again. “Happy New Year, Blix.”

I was positive that wasn’t what he wanted to say.

I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Happy New Year, Saxon. Shall we dance?”

We danced amid the still-cheering, laughing, kissing crowds, just two screw-ups, arms entwined, moving to a music no one else seemed to hear.

Chapter Ten

New Year’s Day was another holiday, so we didn’t really have much on our schedules. The entire floor was silent, everyone sleeping in after a late New Year’s Eve, and for some, sleeping off the inevitable hangover from too much celebrating. I was the lone exception to either scenario.

France is six hours ahead of New Jersey. Which meant that at six in the morning, Jake would be ringing in his New Year. In a few short days I managed to unravel everything good between the two of us, but I had learned some things, too. I wanted…I wanted him to know. Maybe I just wanted to hear his voice. I told myself over and over that he wasn’t going to just forgive me and ask me back, but a big part of me was hoping for exactly that.

At five thirty I was up, my eyes open and staring at the white, cracked ceiling above my bed. My stomach churned noisily, a combination of my intestines processing the cheese and champagne from last night and true, fretful nerves. The worst he could do was hang up on me. I tried to tell myself that it wouldn’t be that bad if he did, but I had an awful feeling that I would be crying in a little while.

I only had a few minutes to psych myself out. I wanted to call him before the official ball drop, just in case he had plans. To kiss. Someone else.

I sternly reminded myself that that was exactly what I had done the night before. I had no reason to play the hurt innocent. He could do whatever he wanted now. We were not a couple.

Because of me.

I dialed Jake, and another, worse possibility came to mind. What if he just never picked up? I was so desperate to talk to him that I was ten times more prepared for a confrontation than just nothing.

But he did pick up.

My voice stuck hard in my throat.

“Jake?” I finally burst out.

“Brenna.” He said my name evenly, his low, deep voice so good in my ears.

“I was calling to wish you a happy New Year.” My voice wobbled.

He blew out a long breath. “So you call to dump me a few days ago, and now you’re calling to wish me a happy New Year? There are a few choice things I’d like to say to you, but I’ll stop myself.”

“Don’t,” I rushed. “I deserve it, Jake. I deserve to hear whatever it is you have to say. Tell me.”

He sighed. “There’s no point, Bren. You and I are done. What is there to say?”

“Do you, um, regret that we’re broken up?” My nerves made my tongue thick and clumsy.

“How can I regret it, Bren? It wasn’t my decision.” He sounded irritated, and his prickly tone was so unexpected, I felt my eyes well up again. I hated that he was talking to me that way. He used to choose his tone so carefully when he said something to me. “How’s Saxon?” he asked, his voice thick with accusation.

“He’s alright.” I swallowed a wave of tears. “We’re not a couple.”

“Did you really think that would work out for you?” he sneered. “I can’t believe that. I know for a fact that you’re brilliant. That’s why this whole thing is so frigging confusing.”

I grabbed on to the one little compliment, the one glimmer that he was still interested in having me in his life. Plus being confused was good. It meant he didn’t know. It meant he was thinking with a big ‘maybe’ in his mind. “I’m coming home tomorrow.”

My statement hung in the air between us.

“I hope you have a safe flight.” His voice was perfectly serious because Jake was a perfect gentleman, and he would never, ever be nasty or vindictive the way so many guys would be. “I hope you had a nice New Year’s.” His voice was so cold I almost believed he could see my kiss with Saxon. “Bren, I have to go.”

I heard a voice in the background. Distinctly feminine.

Oh no.

“Okay. Goodbye Jake.”

He paused and covered the phone while he answered whoever it was. Then he breathed into the receiver. “Have a nice morning, Brenna. Happy New Year.”

The connection was broken and my mind went racing, reading into every little thing Jake said and left unsaid. He said I was brilliant, he said he wanted me to have a safe flight and a happy New Year’s. And I know he meant those things.

But he hadn’t said that he missed me. He hadn’t said that he wanted us to get back together. He had acted a little bit like my call was annoying him.

And that was fair. I was, in fact, just an ex-girlfriend calling for no real reason. He might even have had a date for New Year’s. I thought about the condom wrapper picture. Could Jake have already hooked up with someone as more than just revenge sex? Could he have another girlfriend?

That question was ridiculous. Jake was so gorgeous and sweet and a little bad, there was no reason to wonder whether or not girls would be lining up for a mile. I knew without a doubt that the ball was completely in his court. If he wanted a girlfriend, he could have his pick.

I paced the room a little, and realized that my body was telling me what my mind didn’t have a handle on; I needed to run. It was only a little after six, no one would be up for hours. I put on my running clothes and shoes, left a note for my mother, and started, my pace so crazy it would have made my cross country coach turn cartwheels. I ran past the rivers and parks and buildings of one of the most beautiful cities in the world, but all my eyes wanted to see was a gray-eyed boy with a crooked smile.

As I ran, I cried and didn’t bother to wipe away the tears or the gross amounts of snot that poured out along with those tears. I ran because if I didn’t expend some energy fast, I was going to go crazy.

My sad little heart thumped happily, pumping blood through my body in mad, crashing waves. My lungs worked like a bellows, and I got lightheaded from all the air I gulped in too fast. Coach Dunn had taught me all the techniques to maximize my energy and breathing and control my heart rate, and I knew I should double clutch now before I lost it entirely, but I couldn’t care less. I just wanted to run this aggression off. I made a wild circuit, and when I felt like I was running out of steam, I looked for the giant trees in the park Saxon and I walked through holding hands on our first night in Paris.

I just made it to a bench when I felt my muscles bunch and my breath slice in and out of my lungs, and I had to stop and double over. I couldn’t catch my breath.

I startled when I felt a large hand on my back. “There, there, Blix.” Saxon rubbed my back comfortingly despite the cheerfully mocking tone of his words. “You’ll be okay. Here, have some.”

It was bottled water. I chugged it, then looked at him with my puffy, red eyes and snot still under my nose and chapped lips. “How did you know I’d be here?”

“Because at six this morning it was New Year’s in New Jersey. Plus, this is the only park in Paris you know, so I figured your run would bring you through here eventually.” He wore dark aviator sunglasses, so I couldn’t see his eyes, but would’ve bet they were laughing at me, even if his mouth was serious. Saxon sat next to me and stretched his arm behind my back. “You call him?”

I nodded and felt very close to tears again.

“Blix, I told you he would take you back,” he snapped. “Stop looking so damn weepy. It’s a shitty look for you.”

His callous reaction was actually exactly what I needed. I laughed and punched his arm playfully. “Fuck you, Saxon.”

“Nice if you would,” he drawled, then helped me up. He took the sleeve of his hoodie and pulled it down, long and loose, then wiped at my face gently, sopping up the tears and even the snot. It was one of the most intimately kind things anyone had ever done for me. “It will all be different when we get back. Trust me.”

I put my arm around his waist and he put his around my shoulders, and I realized that as much as I hated having Jake out of my life, I loved the freedom to be with Saxon however I needed to without feeling any guilt. I leaned my head on his shoulder as we walked back, matching my breathing and eventually my heart rate to his. He had been there when I needed him, and that gave my mind a chance for real peace.

The rest of the day rushed by. It was mostly filled with Mom lamenting all the things we hadn’t been able to do and see, including the Eiffel Tower and Notre Dame. I was relieved that we had a reason to come back. Much as I had learned being here, I wanted the chance to experience Paris without the drama of Jake and Saxon looming over my head. And it would be great to see Paris in the spring or summer, when things were in bloom. When I pointed that out to Mom, she calmed down and we had a fairly peaceful night.

Mom turned in early, to better ready herself for a long plane flight and to take extreme precaution against jet lag. I was ready to be home, much as I dreaded what I might have to face when I got there. I was done packing, had my travel outfit out and ready and was about to crack into Raskolnikov’s story again when I heard a light knock at my door. I looked at the shut door for a minute, considering. I knew it was Saxon, but I wondered what he wanted.

There was no way I could just wonder for long.

“Come in!” I called.

He stepped into my room and looked around. I know they’re just dorms, but mine definitely had something his lacked. First of all, mine didn’t stink of smoke. It was neat and bright, the windows opened, the bed nicely made, my possessions contained. He dropped on the mattress next to me.

“You don’t hate me, Blix, do you? I mean, after all of this drama, we’re still cool, right?” His voice was low and uncaring, but I knew that he was covering.

I took his hand in mine. “I don’t hate you, Saxon. I thought I could, once, but it didn’t really work. No matter how much of an asshole you are, there’s something likable about you.”

He tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “I thought I could do it,” he said quietly.

“What?” I turned my face up and looked into his.

He swallowed and I watched the tendons in his throat constrict. “I thought I could make you fall in love with me. I thought with you in Paris with me, and Jake so far away, it would all just fall into place. Man, I was wrong, huh?”

“I did kind of fall for you, Saxon,” I said, my eyes and our hands locked together. “You wouldn’t want me as a girlfriend anyway.”

He smiled. “If I had any chance of ever having a girlfriend, it would have been you, Brenna.”

“So you’re doomed to be permanently alone?” I felt the pressure of his hand as he squeezed mine.

“Maybe. Lose the long face. I’m going to have so much incredible casual sex, it will be unbelievable.” He kissed my cheek, then pulled back and took a deep breath. “But that’s not what I’m here for.”

“What do you want then?” Fear mingled with anticipation when I imagined what he might ask for and how I would possibly be able to say no to him.

“I want to help you,” he said, then fell back on the bed, his arms splayed out, his tattoos slightly visible from the place where his shirt sleeves curled up.

I turned and looked at his long, prone figure. “I don’t need any help from you.”

“Yes, you do.” He shut his eyes. “I drove you to this whole thing. I know you never wanted it.”

That irritated me. It was pretty much the reaction Jake had when I told him about me and Saxon. Why was it so inconceivable that I could make a decision to change something in my own life? Why did every decision I made get taken from me as if I were some infant who could only react to what others did?

I was the one, on the roof, who had pulled Saxon in and demanded we do something! I was the one who had initiated the whole thing! Part of me wanted to chicken out and hide behind Saxon again, but I was getting tired of living according to other peoples’ rules and expectations, no matter how good their intentions for me were. And no matter how huge and messy my own mistakes were.

“I did what Iwanted.”

“Yeah, I know, you’re your own person, blah, blah, blah.”

“So what big help are you offering me?” I asked through gritted teeth.

“I’m going to get you back with Jake.” He clapped his hands together like a genie granting a wish.

I felt my heart leap a little. “Jake?” I said. Just his name felt so good. “Saxon, what Jake and I had is gone. No more. Even if he agreed to date me again, it wouldn’t wind up working out.” Plus that, I didn’t like the idea of Saxon involved with any plan that also had to do with Jake.

“That’s because he doesn’t know the whole story.” Saxon looked up at me from under long, long eyelashes.

“What are you talking about?” I narrowed my eyes at what I felt in my bones was going to be a colossally bad idea.

“I’m going to make a story that works.” He shrugged like it was the easiest, most obvious idea in the world.

“What do you mean ‘works’?” Real dread poured over me.

“The truth is so fucking lame it’s not even worth telling. I’m going to figure something out that will make Jake blame me.”

“How many times do you think that will actually work, Saxon? Jake’s not an idiot.”

“When it comes to you, that’s exactly what he is.” He put a hand on my knee and ran it up to my inner thigh. I smacked at him and he did it again. “You’re so easy to piss off.”

“Only when I’m around you,” I snapped. “I told you we’d bring out the worst in each other.”

“Speak for yourself.” He drummed his fingers on my knee. “This is the best behaved I’ve been in a long time.”

“Are you kidding me?” I snorted. “You’ve been a complete jerkoff.”

He frowned. “Blix, there were several times I was pretty much a gentleman.”

“Really? Like when?”

“Like when you were in my room the other night, and I could have gotten you all hot and wet, but I didn’t,” he said, and he was only half joking. “I could have pressed the issue, and I bet you and I would have had a lot more fun than we wound up having.”

“Nothing with you has been fun.” I couldn’t help feeling a twinge of sadness, because that was the truth. When I had been unobtainable, he had been enticing but nerve-wracking. And once I fell into his arms, he was high maintenance and unpredictable. I just thought the whole thing had so much more promise for…I don’t really know what I expected.

Maybe it was like when people heard I had lived in Denmark for a year. They just couldn’t help but imagine this sophisticated European experience, when in reality it was just fifteen lonely months on an old chicken farm. Not that it hadn’t had its moments, but it wasn’t all baguettes and berets.

Was I getting my European metaphors mixed up?

“What’s wrong?” he demanded, like he knew I was thinking something uncharitable about him.

“I was just thinking that I thought it would be more fun. Between us.”

He smiled a little. “If it had worked out, would you have been thinking about Jake so much?”

I took a few deep breaths and tried to phrase it correctly. Then I just gave up and said what I felt, no matter how husslike it made me look. “I don’t know. I didn’t really anticipate a certain outcome. I just needed to do it, so I would know. And now I do.”

“Know part of it,” Saxon corrected.

“I gave it a fair chance,” I argued.

“You pined for Jake.” Saxon rolled on his elbow and looked at me. “I don’t think you realize how much you like him, Brenna. I think it’s ridiculous and irritating, especially considering what you could have right here, but I’m not judging.”

“Listen, it doesn’t matter what I think or want. Jake isn’t going to go along with this or any other stupid scheme you come up with, so drop it.” I pulled my knees up under my chin and held my legs tight to my chest.

“Can’t.” Saxon flicked my foot. “If you won’t have me, then it’s my mission to throw you into the arms of my half-brother. I like to keep it in the family.”

I ignored the more obvious attempt to aggravate me. “Why don’t you tell him that you’re brothers?”

“Why don’t you beat a dead horse? You’re good at that.” His tone was clipped again. “Drop it, Bren.”

“Take your own advice, Saxon.” I poked him with my toe. “Let me figure it out myself, okay? Thanks anyway.”

“Fine.” He smiled so wide his teeth gleamed.

Saxon finally got up and left the room, which felt much bigger without his overwhelming presence. It would be the last time we were together in this little semi-permanent room of mine. I snapped a few pictures, to help remember. And possibly, maybe, to help tell Jake the whole story. Someday. It was weird to think about going back to the States, where life was going to be basically the same as when we left. Oh, except that I no longer had my adoring/adorable boyfriend.

I thought about him on the plane ride, and it seemed like every mile we got closer to home, I wanted him more and regretted what I had done. More and more, Saxon’s idiotic idea seemed like it could work.

There was just one problem, and it weighed on me just as much as the initial problem of my attraction to Saxon; why had I ever even considered leaving Jake?

He was perfect in so many ways. Jake was kind and attentive. He believed in me and respected me. I was totally physically attracted to him. Sure, Mom didn’t approve, but she was basically fanatical when it came to anything that had to do with me. I couldn’t imagine a single guy who would meet her criteria. So what had happened? How had I been begging Jake to stay overnight and two days later been pressing myself against Saxon? My head started to pound.

I thought back to all the times Jake made me cringe a little, and I was filled with deep, relentless guilt. I hated that he couldn’t read and understand things quickly. I hadn’t even considered emailing him while I was gone, because I knew it would be agony for him to write back. And I hated the culture he had grown up in, the girls who had liked him and the things he had done with them, too young and too much.

What was weird is that I didn’t hate Saxon as much for it. Maybe because Saxon wore it like an ironic badge? Maybe because it wasn’t really Saxon’s birthright.? Saxon was a professor’s son, smart and athletic and socially something closer to me.

My face burned red just thinking what I was thinking. Jake was the best. Better than I deserved.

I could insist that was true all I wanted. The truth was, I had a superiority complex when it came to Jake. That was a seriously bad thing in a relationship.

And then it dawned on me that maybe our breaking up was right. If I couldn’t respect Jake one hundred percent for who he was, maybe I was never the right person to be with him.

My chest felt like it was being crushed by a vice, and I had to squeeze my eyes shut really tight because I didn’t want to cry in front of my mom, even if she was zonked out. Mom had a weird knack for knowing any time I was upset, and I was miserable at hiding it from her. I hadn’t had to sit with Saxon on the ride back. Lylee had been annoying enough that even my polite mother was able to brush her off completely. Anyway, Mom’s anti-jetlag plan involved an eye cover, ear plugs and total sleep on the plane. I couldn’t imagine that Lylee would have paid any attention to Mom’s desire to sleep. The Macleans were as annoying as they were charming.

The plane landed late, and there was Thorsten, a big smile on his face and his arms held out. Mom and I hugged him.

“We missed you, Fa,” I said, using my particular pet name for him.

“I missed you girls. A man only needs so much underwear time. I’m ready to put some clothes on and have my ladies back!”

Mom tucked herself into the crook of Thorsten’s shoulder and nuzzled against him. My heart bucked. Just then I felt a familiar presence. Thorsten and Mom were gathering our luggage on a cart to leave.

“It’ll work out, Blix,” Saxon whispered in my ear. “I’m on it.”

“That’s not reassuring.”

He took my hand and kissed it softly. “I know I’m kind of a dick, but I really like you.” His black eyes glowed gold. “It puts a halt to my natural assholishness and makes me a sometimes nice guy.”

I put a hand to his cheek and brushed the soft skin with my thumb. “So you’re saying you’re half the ass you usually are just for my benefit?”

But Saxon was serious. “I’m saying that I care about you. Even if I do some fucked up stuff, I would never want to see you hurt. That’s all I’m saying.”

My laugh caught in my throat. This was the other part of the complication with Jake. Jake hated Saxon. He wouldn’t approve of my spending any time with him. I didn’t want to irritate Jake. But I wanted to be near Saxon.

As much as I was whining about ruining things with Jake, there was a huge part of me that felt free. I was glad that I could let Saxon kiss my hand and tell me he cared about me without feeling that obligatory stab of guilt that I felt when I was Jake’s girlfriend. Maybe being someone’s girlfriend just wasn’t the right thing for me.

“I care about you, too,” I said, and I meant it with my whole heart. “And I think you should keep your distance from Jake when we get back. I can’t force you to do anything. It’s just advice.”

Mom and Thorsten looked over at me, and I wanted to just get home and collapse. I put my arms around Saxon and hugged him hard. “Thanks for everything, Saxon.”

He buried his face in my hair and sighed. “God, I wish you were thanking me for so much more.”

Then I went to Mom and Thorsten, and Saxon went to do who knows what. He had probably driven himself to the airport. Lylee could be flitting off anywhere. He said he liked his freedom, but, at that moment, the cocoon of love from my parents was feeling really good.

Chapter Eleven

Mom and Thorsten chatted and caught up, and I was able to close my eyes and try to make peace with my crazy life. I wanted to run. So many hours on the plane left me feeling cagey, and so many thoughts in my head made me feel a little like puking.

Finally, we pulled up my street, and I felt so happy and peaceful. I looked at the familiar trees passing out the window and when we came to our driveway, I felt so good, I almost couldn’t contain it. I ran through the door and it just smelled right. It smelled like home, and it was the best smell I could have imagined.

“You look tired, sweetheart,” Mom said. “Do you want to go and lie down?”

I told her I did. I hugged and kissed them both twice and opened the door to my room. Oh, my room! I loved the one robin’s-egg wall, the bright poppy bedding, the paper lamps, and glass-fronted bookshelves! I loved it all!

I was feeling so great, it didn’t seem like anything could ruin it. Until I saw my bangles, laid out carefully on my desk. They were the bangles I left at Jake’s house, because he wanted them as a little reminder of me even when I wasn’t there. I felt my throat clamp tight. They were a sign. We were over and he wanted to make it unquestioningly clear to me.

I lay on the soft down of my cover and felt the tears run hot and quick down my face. I burrowed deep under the covers and imagined I could smell him on them. I turned my head into my pillow and cried, long and hard. I muffled my sobs and let my body shake until I felt tattered and worn out, until there wasn’t one more hiccup or hot tear left. Then I slept, and it was a cold, dark, silent sleep.

I woke up and it was late in the morning. Thorsten had come home especially to pick us up, but he was going into the city to make up for lost hours. Mom wanted to head to the college. She had a notebook full of neatly written lists and timetables, and I could see her itching to show them to her boss. Her passion for everything always made me smile.

“You look awful, Bren.” Mom pressed a hand to my forehead. She put a bowl of hot oatmeal in front of me. “Did you get any sleep?”

I shook my head. “I should have slept on the plane. I think I messed myself up.”

“You should go back to bed for a bit. Or do you want me to stay here?” Her eyes were bright with worry.

“Mom, it’s just jetlag. I need to get back on schedule, that’s all. You worry too much.” I gave her a weak smile.

She didn’t look reassured. “I’ll be right at the college.”

“I’ll probably just zonk out.” I spooned the oatmeal obediently into my mouth. “But, you know, I might take a run or a bike ride. I don’t really want to throw my schedule off too much. I have school tomorrow.” We had missed all of winter break, but could start back with everyone else the next day, Monday.

“Baby, if you need to take a day, take it.” Mom’s face was lined with worry. “You push yourself too hard, Bren. Indulge, right? Didn’t we talk about that?”

I suppressed the urge to groan. If only she knew how I had taken her well-meant advice.

“Maybe I will,” I said, noncommittally. “Maybe I’ll ride to Kelsie’s in a little bit.”

“It would be fun for you to see her.” Mom grabbed her purse and keys. “Well, I’m off. Keep your cell on you. And be careful, sweetie. You know I hate the idea of you riding around on your own.” She frowned and kissed my head, then she was gone and I was all alone in my big, empty house.

The last day of winter break. When I had looked forward to it, before I knew about Paris, I imagined all of the things Jake and I would do together. I imagined this last day as a day filled with cuddling and more, goofing off and laughing about all we had done that week. I washed my bowl out in the sink and wondered at how it had all gone so wrong.

I was literally shaky from everything running through my head. I wanted…closure or peace or some kind of reassurance. I took a shower and got dressed in a super soft pink sweater and gray jeans. I was going for soft and pretty and maybe a little innocent. I put on makeup and did my hair and looked super cute. I got my bike out and remembered that this last day of break wouldn’t have been filled with cuddling anyway. Jake always had work on Sunday. He would be at Zinga’s.

It wasn’t far from my house at all. In fact, Zinga’s was closer than Frankford. I headed there without letting myself think about it too much. And when my bike tires crunched on the gravel, I parked and went to look around without letting myself analyze what I was doing.

Then I saw him, and my throat closed up. Maybe it had all been physical for me. Maybe I was just ruled by my traitorous, hussilicious body. Jake wore his typical winter uniform; baseball cap with a skull cap over it, Carhart jacket, faded jeans, beat up work boots. His body was long and lean, but defined with muscle. I knew every muscle, every jutting bone and every smooth and hairy plane of skin. I felt like it was mine, no matter what I had done to ruin our bond.