Текст книги "Double Clutch"

Автор книги: Лиз Реинхардт

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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

“Let me help.” Saxon stubbed his cigarette out under his boot sole.

Jake didn’t look like he had the energy to protest. His hair was plastered to his head with sweat, his shoulders sagged, and his eyes were red rimmed.

He and Saxon pushed the bike back up the dirt ramp and into the bed of the truck.

“Good job, man,” Saxon said.

Jake squinted at him. “Thanks.”

They stood in awkward silence.

“I’ll see you guys around.” Saxon turned on his heel and stalked away, hands in his pockets.

I watched Saxon walk away while Jake kept his eyes on his bike. “He bet on you.”

He swung his head to look at me. “What did he bet?”

“A thousand dollars. Or he won a thousand dollars. Maybe you should bet on yourself sometime,” I suggested.

Jake looked at me hard. “He told you that?”

“Yeah, when we were in the stands. He explained about the race. I didn’t realize how much I didn’t know.” I looked at his face, trying to gauge if he was angry, but it didn’t look that way. Mostly he just looked tired.

“Do you mind going to my place so I can shower?” he asked finally, dropping the whole issue.

“No problem.” I pulled him to me and kissed him again. “I’m really proud of you. You did great out there.”

“Thanks.” He wrapped me in a bone-crushing hug for a few long seconds.

We drove to his house, Jake singing along to the classic rock station at the top of his lungs. I laughed hard and joined him.

I was totally curious to see his house. We pulled into the lake and drove for a few minutes, winding down a few different roads until we came to a neat, boring white house. It was clean and maintained, but it was completely bland. There was no landscaping, no ornamentation, no decoration. It was just a little white box.

He parked and came around to open my door.

“Am I going to meet your dad?” I asked.

He shook his head. “He bowls all day Saturday, then watches ESPN with the guys all night.”

“He went bowling instead of going to your race?” I linked my hand in Jake’s.

His eyes looked hot and angry, and I wished I had kept my big, direct mouth shut for once.

“Yeah.” He opened his front door and led me in. We stood in a small, depressingly plain living room. The walls were stark white. The carpet was brown. There were two old LazyBoy recliners and a plaid couch. I followed Jake to the kitchen, white with dark cabinets and a dingy yellow laminate countertop.

There was a small dining alcove with a dark wood table and four straight-back chairs.

“You want something to drink?” Jake asked. “All we have is soda.”

“I drink soda sometimes.” I smiled and looked around, taking in all the boring nothing in Jake’s house. “I’ll have one.”

It was the store brand, but I wasn’t brand picky when it came to soda. It all tasted like sweet bubbles to me. He led me to his bedroom.

There was a twin bed with a dark blue cover. There was a scratched desk with a lamp and a plain chair. A dresser in the corner supported a fairly old TV with an Xbox and a banged up PS3. A few motocross posters were tacked neatly on the wall, and Jake had printed the picture of me at the movie theater and taped it neatly right next to his bed.

“I know.” He smiled apologetically. “It’s pretty boring.”

“It is,” I agreed. “We could redo it sometime, if you wanted. If your dad was cool with it.”

He shrugged. “I mostly just sleep in here. My father never ever comes in here, so it wouldn’t matter to him either way.” I sat on his bed and he sat next to me. Then he pulled me back and we bounced against the mattress and laughed. He started to kiss me, but I, for once, held back. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I’m sorry. You’re getting dirt all over me.” The dirt on his gear was drying and crumbling.

“I’ll fix that.” He jumped off the bed and stripped off his clothes, right down to his boxers.

“You’re pretty comfortable getting undressed in front of me.” I had a hard time taking my eyes off of him.

“You’re always figuring out some way to get me out of my clothes,” he accused. He put his stuff neatly in the hamper and smelled his own armpit.

“Jake!” I yelled. “That’s gross.”

“What?” he balked. “I stink. I was doing it out of consideration for you.” He pounced on me and pinned me to the bed. “I was just going to tell you I need to get in the shower before I overpower you with my pit stink. I’m a pretty nice boyfriend, aren’t I?”

I pretended to gag. “I can’t think. You smell too disgusting.”

He kissed me all over my face, and I giggled because his good mood was contagious. He jumped up and headed out of the room. “Five minutes. Try not to get in any trouble.”

The minute I heard the shower come on, I started to conduct a thorough search of his room, and I didn’t feel the least bit guilty about it. It was my right as Jake’s girlfriend to spy.

It was fairly disappointing.

His closet was disgustingly neat and tidy. He had barely any clothes, and they were all clean, hung up, and neat. The drawers of his desk held fairly normal things; a Swiss army knife, thumbtacks, scissors, a razor knife, a ruler, some glue and rubber cement. Next to his bed was a small nightstand. I was not surprised to find a bottle of lotion and a box of tissues. There was one little box under his bed. That was the only thing that made me feel at all guilty, but I looked in it anyway.

It had some Boy Scout patches, an old Spiderman action figure, a little first place MiniMotocross ribbon, and some pictures. They were mostly Polaroids, and mostly blurry. One was a woman with long brown hair wearing a tube top and big sunglasses. She was smiling and there was a baby on her lap. He looked like he could be Jake, but I couldn’t be sure. Babies mostly looked the same to me. There were a few more pictures of little Jake, some really cute school pictures and a Halloween picture where he was dressed as Dracula. There was one where Jake was probably six or seven. A dark eyed boy with spiky black hair had his arm around Jake. Saxon?

In the bottom of the box there was a little folded note. When I opened it up, I felt a warm, sweet heat flow through me. It was the note I’d written him in class, the one where he invited me to the race. He had kept it tucked in the box where he kept all his most valuable possessions. I ran my fingers over the creased edges.

I heard Jake come out of the bathroom and shoved the box back under the bed, then sat very still on his mattress, wearing my best innocent face.

“Were you snooping?” Jake asked, a good-natured smile on his face.

I opened my mouth to deny it, then shut my mouth. No more lying.

“Just a little. I was curious.”

“That’s okay.” He waved his hand at the little bland room. “Sorry I don’t have much to snoop through.”

“It was fun, anyway.” I sat on his bed and leaned back on my elbows.

He had his towel wrapped around his waist and nothing else on. His eyes looked me over hungrily. “I saw you in the stands the whole time.” He came to sit next to me on the bed.

His skin was still warm and damp, and it smelled so good, with that soapy-shower scent clinging to it. The gel had been washed out of his hair, so it fell messily, almost in his gray eyes. I caught a whiff of mint from his toothpaste, and when he smiled, that twisted eyetooth made my heart thud.

“I watched you the whole time. And I was brave. There were many scantily clad girls who were not happy to know you were taken.”

He pulled me over and kissed me. “Definitely taken,” he said, his voice deep. He kissed me until I was lying back, my hands on his nearly naked body, running over the relaxed muscles. He was already hard.

“I know where your lotion is,” I whispered.

He laughed. “Shameless hussy,” he said and kissed me again.

I took over then, and when I had satisfied him, he returned the favor, and then we lay in each other’s arms, staring at his too white ceiling.

“It’s kind of weird that I’m still completely dressed and you’re completely naked,” I said in the comfortable silence.

“That’s the kind of manipulative girl you are. Somehow you always convince me to get naked, whether I want to or not.” He kissed my nose. “But, speaking of my nudity, I need to get dressed if we’re going to get to the show on time.”

I sat up to watch him. His body was so muscled and lean he could have been a Greek statue. I had never watched a guy get dressed before. He didn’t even have to look at his clothes. Everything he owned was bland, and it all matched everything else. He could pull the first shirt off of the first hanger and it matched every pair of pants he owned. He had two pairs of work boots. One pair was dirty with a frayed pair of laces. The other pair was dirtier with masking tape on the toe. He chose the dirty pair.

His socks had holes in them and his boxers were threadbare.

“Jake,” I suggested. “Maybe you should use your prize money to buy some socks without holes.”

Jake shook his head. “Can’t. If I buy my own socks, my dad has nothing to get me for Christmas.”

“Like in your stocking?” I felt a little babyish, but I wanted to know. I was spoiled, being an only child, and my stocking was always stuffed full of magazines, makeup, candy, and funny gag gifts. I also got a ton of stuff under the tree, all thoughtful, wonderful gifts Mom and Thorsten picked up and stored away all year long.

“No, like under the tree. I always get two bags of socks, a flashlight and fifty dollars.” Jake said it matter-of-factly.

“That’s all you get?” I tried to wrap my head around such boring, repetitive gifts. “Every year?”

“Yeah. It’s kind of weird that I get a flashlight every year, since they last. My father buys really good quality flash lights.” Jake opened his closet door and pointed to the top shelf. There was a collection of flashlights, all black and industrial looking.

“That’s so thoughtless and depressing,” I griped, disliking Jake’s father even more.

“I do get fifty bucks, Bren,” he pointed out. “So I can go buy myself something I like. Don’t feel bad for me.” He put his arm around me. “We have a tree and Dad buys turkey TV dinners. We even watch It’s a Wonderful Life together. I get to do Christmas stuff.”

I shook my head. Jake’s entire home life seemed so bland and depressing. How could someone so creative and passionate and loving have sprung to life in this soulless place? It didn’t seem possible. “It just seems…”

“Depressing?” he finished. “Only if you’re expecting something else. I’m not. I promise, it’s alright.”

It was just one of the many topics concerning Jake that it was better to avoid. It seemed to bother me more than it bothered him, so why argue about it? I forced myself to let it go. “Hey, I got you something for tonight.” I was happy to change the subject completely. His worn t-shirt made me remember. I grabbed my purse and pulled out a rolled shirt. “It’s one of the designs they’re selling tonight, but I did some extra stuff to it.”

“Thanks, babe.” He put it on right away. “What do you think?”

“Sexy.” It was a good fit. I had never seen him in anything but the boring neutrals, the blue button down (which was the fanciest clothing in his wardrobe), and his motocross outfit.

We got preoccupied with kissing for a while, and I almost didn’t want to leave. Despite the general sterility of his house, it was the most alone and relaxed we’d been able to be together. But he was intent that we get to the Folly show early.

“It’s your big night, Bren.” He pushed up off the bed and crooked his finger at me.

“It’s actually Folly’s big night,” I pointed out, still sprawled lazily, my head nestled in his pillows.

“Made even bigger by the fact that everyone will be wearing your shirts and it will be super cool. So let’s go.”

I groaned as he pulled me up off the bed, and laughed when he threw me over his shoulder. It looks thrilling in the movies, but it’s actually pretty uncomfortable.

“Ow!” I whined. “Your bony shoulder is digging into my gut.”

“Then you should have gotten your lazy ass up,” Jake said, still bumping me along, out the door and up the driveway. He flipped me into his arms like a baby and put me down in the car. “Oof. I’m glad I lift my dirt bike so much. You’re heavier than you look.”

I jabbed his arm. “You’re just weak. Maybe you should do a sport. You’re becoming a big lazy driver.”

“I don’t have time for sports.” He pulled my seatbelt across my lap and clipped the buckle. “Unless you consider pumpkin chucking a sport.”

“How did I wind up with such a hick for a boyfriend?” I griped happily. Jake laughed as he started the engine and we passed a few minutes with the only sound the constantly changing radio station, since I couldn’t find anything I liked. When Jake spoke next, he brought up what I knew had been bothering him all day.

“So, did Saxon bug you at the track?” His mouth was a tight, hard line.

“No.” I thought about Saxon walking away from the track after waiting for Jake to acknowledge him somehow. “Jake, I know he’s been crazy, but he really does care about you.”

“You’re getting sucked in again, Bren,” Jake warned. “Don’t fall for his shit. How many times does he have to screw you over before you believe that it really is all an act?”

I nodded. “You’re right,” I said, even though I didn’t think that at all. “It’s just, he was really concerned about you at the race.”

“He was probably praying I broke my neck on every jump so he could steal you away from me and have his wicked way with you.” He looked at me and wiggled his eyebrows like an evil villain in a bad play.

“Whatever,” I sighed. “I was there. I saw him.”

“Saw him putting on a convincing concerned-friend act. Trust me, he doesn’t give a shit about me. He was the one who gave me my first cigarette when I was ten.”

“You smoked?”

“Yeah, like a chimney, right up til I stopped hanging out with Saxon. He poured me my first shot, hooked me up with the first older girl I was…uh…with.” He blushed a little. “Just because he’s interested in hanging around you to get close to me doesn’t mean he really gives a crap, okay? He’s sneaky, but you’re smart. Don’t let him trip you up.”

Jake was being really understanding concerning the night before and my humiliating confessions. I had to drop it, even if I felt like there was something that just didn’t make sense.

The Folly concert was being held at a local bar called the Red Pony. It was a pretty sad bar, but it had a stage and it was available. By the time Jake and I pulled up, there was already a nearly full parking lot.

And everywhere you looked, people were wearing my shirts!

I saw Kelsie working a table with a set of cardboard boxes marked “S,” “M,” “L,” and “XL.” I dragged Jake with me and we looked at the piles of my designs.

“That’s cool.” Jake picked one up and held it in front of him. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re wearing that shirt, you adorable fool,” I said cheerfully.

He kissed me. “You are both an entrepreneur and a sweet, sweet woman.”

“That’s me.” I kissed him back.

“Brenna, these are selling like crazy!” Kelsie called. “We only have five medium shirts left!”

“How many did we start with?” I ran my hand over the piles of t-shirts that were being snatched up right in front of my eyes.

“Seventy!” she called back.

Wow. Kelsie got preoccupied, and Jake and I made our way to the Red Pony’s entrance when my cell beeped. I checked the text and held Jake up. “It’s my friend Devon.” We went to the parking lot where Devon was getting dropped off by his mother, who was still yelling cautions after him as he walked towards us. I waved, and she stopped yelling, then waved back. Maybe it relaxed her, because she pulled out and left.

“Hey Devon!” I gave him a quick, awkward hug. “How are you?”

“Good.” His smile was a little strained.

“This is Jake, my boyfriend,” I introduced.

“Hey, man.” Jake stuck his hand out. They shook.

“Wow, Brenna, everyone’s got one of your shirts on.” Devon craned his neck and looked around.

“Cool, right?” Jake squeezed me around the waist. “Do you guys want to go in?”

“Let me call Mom first.” Devon’s crazy mother had reminded me of my own sweet, sane one waiting back at home. I called and told her about the shirts, and she was excited for me and told me to have fun and call later. I fully appreciated my mother’s coolness, especially after I witnessed Devon’s mom’s relative insanity.

We headed to the door, paid our five dollar covers, got our red wristbands and headed in. If you were old enough to drink, you got a green wristband, but Folly’s fan base was relatively young, so those were few and far between. In the handful of minutes I left Jake to go and say hello to Kelsie, who had just been relieved from sales duty, a pretty brunette with a green wristband found him and was flirting outrageously.

Kelsie shook her head. “Jake is one serious girl magnet.” Jake was pointedly ignoring the girl and trying to talk to Devon. “Is that Devon Conner?” Kelsie asked.

“Yeah.” I watched them talk, and it looked like Devon was loosening up. Maybe. A little.

“He’s such a nice guy. He helped me with my algebra worksheet the other day in lunch.”

“Yeah, he’s cool.” I smiled when I heard Devon’s donkey bray of a laugh and saw Jake join in laughing with him.

“Chris is so excited,” she gushed. “Ooh, you’re wearing my necklace! It goes perfectly with your eyes. You look so cute!”

“You, too,” I said. “Hey, Jake had some big race today, and he won.”

“Motocross?” Kelsie looked at me with surprise.

“Yeah. It was actually really fun to watch. I didn’t think I’d like it as much as I did.”

“Was it the Vernon Valley Amateur?” Kelsie asked. “Did Jake win a set there?”

“Yeah. You know it?” Kimmy’s eyes were wide. I really wished I knew more about racing. “He was amazing. Is it a big deal?”

“I think so. My little brother said it’s the biggest in the northeast. I don’t think it’s big money or anything, but it’s super competitive.”

I was impressed all over again. “He’s full of surprises.” The group of girls around him was growing. “I think I have to go before he gets mauled.”

I made my way back to Jake and Devon. Devon was talking to a group of kids from Frankford, and Jake looked relieved when he saw me.

“Brenna!” The girls around him scowled and moved aside.

“I was talking to Kelsie.” I elbowed past his admirers and slid next to him. “She said your race was a pretty big thing. Like entire northeast big.”

He smiled. “Maybe a little.”

“You could have explained a little more about it to me.” I narrowed my eyes at him.

“You’re never interested in talking when I have you alone,” he said and kissed me quiet.

“Jake!” It was a whiny, feminine voice. And there was corset girl. Was she impervious to New Jersey’s cold autumn chill? Her deep tan was also strangely at odds with the rest of the pasty-looking crowd. “I saw your win,” she said, ignoring me. “That was a pretty incredible jump in the last leg.”

“Thanks, Shayla.” Jake pushed me forward a little, like he wanted to make sure couldn’t possibly miss me. Or like he was using me as his personal anti-groupie shield. “I really want you to meet my girlfriend, Brenna.”

“Hey,” she said to me with a little eye roll, then immediately looked back at Jake. “So, are you heading to Digman’s for the next set? I guess it’s a little pointless since you already placed at Vernon, but it’s going to be fun and everyone’s excited to see you race again. Me especially.”

Jake shrugged. “Brenna and I will talk about it. Good seeing you, Shay.” And he moved me on towards the stage. “Sorry. Just a girl from my distant past who never seems to go away.”

“It’s alright.” I put on my best tolerant face. “Sussex County must be pretty full of girls from your past.” I smiled for him and he relaxed a little.

That minute, Folly came out on the stage. The crowd went crazy, stomping, cheering and calling out.

The lead guitarist leaned over the microphone. He had a blue Mohawk and enough facial piercings to set off a metal detector from five feet away. “Hey guys. Thanks. We’re Folly, and we just want to say thank you for everyone who came to support us tonight.” The crowd screamed and cheered. “And, we see a lot of Folly t-shirts out there. We want to give a special shout out to Brenna Blixen. Brenna, are you here?”

“Right here!” Jake yelled and pointed to me.

Folly’s lead guitarist smiled a devilish smile. “She is hot,” he said to Chris, and there were hoots and whistles from the crowd. “Thanks for the designs. We sold out, but there will be more at our next show at the Lodge in Vernon next month. Alright, let’s get this started. We’re dedicating this one to our man Devon, a true appreciator of music.” They started to play the opening strains of “Slow Dog,” and the cheers almost drowned out the beginning of the song.

I had never been to a show before, and it was amazing how alive and electric it felt. There were so many people crammed so close in a space that wasn’t designed to be so packed. A lot of the people sang along to the chorus, shouting the lyrics and dancing to the music.

Jake wrapped his arms around me and leaned close to my ear.

“So, the guitar guy likes you,” he said.

I turned towards him, wrapped my arms around his waist and squeezed. “You and I are both hot commodities in Sussex County I guess.”

“In a few years, you and me, we’ll be out of here for good. Just the two of us, no groupies, no mohawked rockers.” He kissed me again, and I felt a shock at his words.

Of course, they were probably just words that he said to add to my joke. Was he really thinking that far into the future? It was kind of ridiculous to even obsess about. If I went for the realist’s perspective, I had known Jake for less than a month.

That seemed the most shocking of all, put into such stark fact. Was it possible that just a few weeks ago I had lived an entirely Jake-free existence? My heart ached at the thought. He felt like he had always been somewhere in my life, waiting.

I turned back towards the stage and leaned on Jake. I moved my head to the side and breathed the smell of him in. I loved him. I loved Jake Kelly so much it made my heart thump. I stood in his arms through the next set, then Folly broke for an intermission. Jake offered to get me a soda, and I saw some guys come over and start talking to him. I was so busy spying on Jake, I didn’t notice that someone else had approached. Saxon grabbed my arm and pulled me towards the door.

“C’mon,” he said over his shoulder.

“No way, Saxon. No!” I dragged my feet. “Jake will be looking for me.”

“Five minutes,” Saxon pleaded.

Against my better judgment, I followed him into the cold night. “What do you need?” I still felt drawn to him. Even though he had abused my trust and Jake’s, there was something good at his core that made me want to give him another second chance, every single time I saw him.

“I have a confession, Brenna.” He ran his hands through his hair over and over and breathed hard. I looked at his bruised, scarred face. “I have never told anyone this, but I need to tell someone. I need to get this off of my chest, finally. I need to tell you.” He stopped and grabbed my arm again, and this time he led me even farther away from the din of the Red Pony.

“Saxon, what is it?” I shivered. He moved to pull me into his arms, but I backed away quickly. He kicked at the stones on the drive, grunting with frustration.

“I don’t know why everything has to be so fucked up.” He ran his hands through his hair again until it stuck up at slightly crazy angles. “I fucked up with Jake, I can’t leave you alone, and now I’m going to tell you this.”

I backed away again. “Don’t tell me.” My voice was smaller than I wanted it to be. “Whatever it is, I don’t need to know.”

“I have to. It’s more than I can stand.” He walked over to me and grabbed my shoulders hard. “When I see the look on your face when you see me, I want to break something, Brenna. But you might understand this whole shitty situation better if you just know this one thing.”

I wanted to bolt, but there was something in his black eyes that was desperate. He fumbled in his back pocket and pulled out his old leather wallet. He took out a faded, frayed-edged picture and handed it to me wordlessly.

It was the spiky haired boy from Jake’s Polaroid. So that was Saxon. There was a woman with his black hair and eyes and his wicked-sexy smile. And there was a man.

Who looked exactly like Jake would look in a few years.

The lights and sounds and cold of the night all faded away. Jake’s father was in a family picture with Saxon? Had there been an affair? What did this mean?

“Who is in this picture?” I traced my finger over the three faces lightly.

“You tell me,” he ordered, his voice hard.

“The kid is you,” I identified. He nodded. “The woman is your mother.” He nodded again. “The man is Jake’s father.”

Saxon’s eyes were pain ravaged. He just shook his head. “Not exactly.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. “Who is he? Jake’s uncle?”

Saxon let out a shaky breath. “That asshole in the picture is my father, Brenna. And he had an affair with Jake’s mother. Jake doesn’t know.”

I held the picture tighter. “The man who Jake lives with is not Jake’s father?”

“No.” Saxon shoved his hands into his pockets. “My father got Jake’s mom pregnant and she married someone else, and pretended that the baby was that guy’s.”

“That means you and Jake…”

“Are half-brothers.” Saxon finished my sentence and hung his head. “I’ve known for years. I swear, I tried to be a good brother to him. My father never acknowledged him. When he split, he told me to look out for Jake. I just wound up screwing it up, though.”

I looked at Saxon, not sure what to say. It explained the undefined thing I saw when Saxon looked at Jake. It was love.

“Are you going to tell Jake?” I looked down at the picture again.

Saxon shook his head. “No. I’m telling you. That’s it. And I don’t really want you telling Jake. This stays between us.”

“No.” I put my foot down. “No more me and you, Saxon. You need to tell Jake. You’re brothers. He needs to know. From you.”

“Why? So he has more people to hate for letting him down. If I’m just his friend, it doesn’t have to rip him up that I suck. But if I’m his brother? And the guy who’s raising him, he’s a cold robot, but he’s around, buying Jake a damn flashlight every Christmas. What about a father who wouldn’t even acknowledge him? It’s better if I keep it between you and me, Brenna.”

“But why me?” I searched his face, his deep black eyes brimming with sadness. “Why not just keep it to yourself?”

“Because I know you’ll understand.” He put his hand out for the picture, but when I offered it, he grabbed my hand instead. He ran his fingers along my skin and closed his eyes while he took a deep breath. He stuffed the picture back in his wallet, hidden from view once more. “I know you see the good in me, even when no one else does. And that’s damn rare. If Jake wasn’t my brother, I’d do everything I could to win you from him. But I’ve screwed him enough. He deserves you. I know you two are good for each other.” Saxon tilted his head back and exhaled a long breath of air. “That doesn’t mean I can accept you hating me. I knew you saw that I cared about him, but I knew you didn’t understand my motives. I just want you to know I’m not a complete fuck up.”

He pulled me close and I let him. His eyes were completely black, deep and bright with despair. “Let me hold you. Just for a minute, Brenna, let me feel like a fucking human.”

I put my arms around him and let him crush me, the air squeezed out of my body by his grip. He rubbed his face on my hair, breathed it in and groaned a little before he broke his hold and held his hands up like he was surrendering. “Go,” he said gruffly. “Go back to him.”

He started to walk away. “Saxon!” He turned. “Where are you going?”

“I need to think.” Then his wicked smile was back. “But I’m not very good at that. So I’ll probably end up drunk and brawling. Just keep your fingers crossed that I get laid, too.”

I held up my hand, middle finger twisted over my index finger.

“You know I love you best when you’re a bitch, Brenna.” He slid into his car and peeled away without a backwards glance.

I watched until the dust died down. I didn’t even notice Jake behind me.

“Jesus, Bren! You scared the hell out of me!” His eyes were worried. He took off his ball cap and ran a hand through his hair. “Tell me before you leave, okay? I’m not even going to tell you what was going through my head.”

I threw myself into Jake’s arms and held him tight. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s alright, Bren.” He tilted my face and kissed me softly. “What were you doing out here?”

I looked at his gray eyes, his crooked eyetooth, his kind smile, and I loved him just the way he was. I didn’t know if I’d be able to keep something so big from him forever, but for this night, I just wanted to be with him and enjoy the moment.

“Just thinking,” I lied.

“What about?”

“How today was such a huge day for both of us. So much has happened so fast, it’s just a lot to take in.” That was true. I was glad to see that he smiled, looking relieved at my confession.

“We’re good together, Bren.” He looked into my eyes. “I think it’s just going to get better.”

“It will,” I said with so much authority I even convinced myself it couldn’t possibly be another lie.

Epilogue

I woke up the morning of October 11th way earlier than I should have. Mostly because Jake was stretched across my bed, his leg draped over my mine heavily. I ran my fingers through his hair, newly cut in preparation for my birthday celebration. Thorsten was taking us all into the city for lunch at a famous Chinese restaurant, and then we were going to the Met, since Mom and I had been dying to go since we got back to the states and Jake had never been. Jake had parked down the road and snuck in to sleep with me, just as a treat, just for my birthday. He had to leave so he could get home and get ready to drive back before my parents came in to wake me.

“Wake up, Jake,” I whispered.

He cracked one eye open. “Hey, pretty girl.” He pulled me into his arms and kissed me all over my face and neck.

“You’ve got to go. It’s dawn.”

“Happy birthday,” he stalled.

“Thanks.” I put my hand over his face, spread my fingers and looked at his features from behind the bars I created. He kissed my palm and fingers, then leaned over the bed and grabbed his pants.