Текст книги "Crash"

Автор книги: Nicole Williams

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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“Your ice cream’s melting,” Sawyer said, looking down at the bowl between us.

I slipped my toes deeper in the sand, wrapping my arms around my legs. “I told you inside, I’m not in the mood for ice cream.”

“Something so bad ice cream can’t fix it?” he said, tossing a rock into the lake. “Okay, let’s talk.”

“Not in the mood.”

“Of course you’re not,” he said. “That’s why you need to. Once you get it out of your system, you’ll feel better.”

“I doubt it.” Talking wouldn’t change what I’d seen.

“Let’s give it a shot. I’ll even get the conversation ball rolling.” He slid his sunglasses on top of his head and took a deep breath. “I’m guessing this has something to do with Jude and Holly?”

Hearing their names together was ten times worse than just hearing her name. “Is this the part where you sneer I told you so at me?” I snapped. “Because I’ll save you the trouble.” I looked over at him. “Yeah, you were right. You told me so. Jude’s still with Holly.” That lump in my throat returned. I was so sick of it I wanted to reach down my throat and manually remove it.

Sawyer sighed, shaking his head. “How did you find out?”

“I followed the bastard to her trailer park last night. She has a baby, Sawyer,” I said, grabbing a rock and hurling it into the lake. “They have a baby together and he didn’t feel the need to mention any of this to me.” My voice was breaking, about to snap, and the tears were finally flowing. “They have a cute, teething, precious little baby and he didn’t tell me.” Each word was its own sentence since I was doing the sobbing while trying to talk thing.

“Ah, hell, Lucy.” Sawyer draped his arm over me. “I’m sorry. This is exactly the reason I tried to tell you early on about her, before you and Jude got too involved. I knew it would tear you up when you found out.”

“I trusted him, Sawyer,” I cried. “I trusted him. And he lied to me. What kind of screwed up is that?”

He slid my wet, matted hair behind my ear. “Some people just thrive off manipulating others, you know? We search for some deeper, honorable explanation, but some people are just messed up.”

Even as he said the words I knew should be true, some piece of me couldn’t buy into them. Jude wasn’t the cruel type, he’d lied to me for some deeper reason, but I couldn’t invest the time necessary to uncover it. I was officially burnt out on all things Jude. I had no other choice but to cut him loose. And I’d never wanted to take back a decision more.

“Well, you were right. And I was wrong. And Jude and I are finished,” I said, getting a hold of myself. “That’s a chapter in my life I want to close the book on and never open again.”

“Sounds like you need a fresh start,” he said, dropping his arm now that the only effect of the hysterics was a red, puffy face.

“I’ll take two,” I said, wiping the mascara likely smeared beneath my eyes.

“I know this might seem sudden, but hear me out,” he began, turning in the sand to face me. “The Sadie Hawkins dance is next weekend, and I’ve already told three girls no because I lied and said I was already going with another girl.”

He was right, this was about a hundred miles per hour too fast. “Sawyer,” I warned, about to stand up.

“Wait,” he said, grabbing my knee. “Just hear me out on this before you say anything.”

I sat back down and waited.

“So now I’m in a jam because if I don’t show up, these three poor girls will know I gave them the brush off, and if I show up with some other girl, they’re going to know I lied.”

“Wait,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “Who exactly did you tell them you were going with?”

I already knew the answer. “You,” he said, having the decency to look ashamed.

“Sawyer,” I groaned, rocking in the sand. “My life is complicated enough without you making it more so.”

“I know and I’m sorry, but here’s part two of you hearing me out.” He took in a breath and squared his shoulders. “I like you, Lucy. More than I should and a hell of a lot more than you like me. I’ve been biding my time, waiting for you to wake up and smell the Jude heartache, and now that you have, I know at least half a dozen guys are going to be standing in line at your locker tomorrow morning.” He paused, judging me for my reaction, but I still wasn’t sure how to react. “Would you do me a favor and just give me a shot? One shot, and go to Sadie Hawkins with me. I swear I’ll behave like we are nothing more than friends and maybe, if you feel the same way, we could figure this thing out together.”

Every acceptable response escaped me.

“For me, Lucy? Just this one thing, and if you still feel the way you do now, I promise I’ll leave you alone.” For the first time, Sawyer’s bronzy skin didn’t look so golden. He looked pale, and scared, and vulnerable. “I don’t want to live my life with regrets, and I know I would regret it every damn day of my life if we didn’t at least give us a chance.”

My life had officially just become a daytime soap opera.

 Because Sawyer was a friend, and had had my back from the very beginning despite me going off on him on numerous occasions, and because I felt indebted to him, I said, “Fine. We’ll go to Sadie’s together.”

The color poured back into his face. “We’ll have a blast, I promise,” he said. “And I can assure you, I don’t have any love children I’m keeping a secret.”

I leveled him with my glare.

“Sorry,” he said, “that was in bad taste.”

“Exceptionally.”

He grabbed my hand, his fingers weaving through mine. “Let’s give this thing a shot, Lucy. Nice and slow and see what happens.”

“Nice. And. Slow,” I reiterated because I knew Sawyer had it all on paper. He was what drove women to cat fight and to drink and to swoon. He had it all: looks, money, personality, but he didn’t have one thing yet. And that was my heart.

“We’ll walk before we run,” he said, squeezing my hand. “We’ll walk before we run.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

Sawyer and I walked right through Sadie Hawkins. Were still walking into November and pushing a twelve minute mile jog by December. By Sawyer’s standards, I was fairly certain he was ready to run, maybe even go the distance, but I wasn’t anywhere close to that.

Sawyer wouldn’t be my first, but I also knew I didn’t want him to be my last, so then, what was the point? I didn’t get into bed with a guy just because we’d reached that stage in our relationship. It had to feel right; I had to be able to see myself with him months or maybe even years down the road.

I might be Sawyer’s girlfriend, but I pictured someone else’s face when he had me pinned against a couch. I saw another face when I looked at him period. Jude skipped a few days of class after our parking lot explosion, then showed up one night at a football game and hadn’t missed a day since.

I saw him every day in the halls and a couple of times around town, but he didn’t see me. He hadn’t spared one look my way since that day, and I never knew that kind of rejection could hurt the way it did. I reminded myself every morning what he’d lied about, what he’d failed to mention, and every night I wound up thinking about the way his eyes would lighten right before he kissed me.

Jude Ryder took up residence in my soul and I couldn’t find a way to evict him.

The song on the radio came to an end, that damn song the DJs overplayed on purpose because someone down at the station knew it made me all nostalgic and longing for Jude when they played it.

“I’ll fix you,” I said, looking down to punch the radio off.

In the space of one detoured glance, a piece of scrap wood bounced off the back of some ramshackle truck, landing in my lane. Without any time to respond, the Mazda smashed over the shard of wood, and almost immediately I felt it.

“Damn it,” I cursed, not able to understand how an arm’s length sliver of wood could bring down a two ton moving piece of metal. Nature was fighting back against industry, one tire at a time.

And then a familiar rubber flopping against metal sound echoed through the cab.

“Double damn,” I said, knowing I had a spare in the back, but that was all I knew about changing a tire. That’s why god invented man—so women wouldn’t have to get grease under their manicures.

Pulling onto the shoulder, I scanned up and down the road, looking for some kind of auto anything shop. Someone must have been smiling down on me because not even fifty feet away was a sign that read Premier Auto Repair in front of a blue and gray painted building with three open bays.

“Thank. You,” I offered up to whoever was listening.

I coaxed the Mazda forward, cringing as the flop-flop-flopping got louder. I really hoped my entire wheel wasn’t going to fly off, but if it was, at least the professionals were close by.

A man in his mid-twenties, sporting a bowling shirt, walked out of one of the bays. More of his face was covered in grease than not. Waving his hand, he motioned me over, pointing at the empty first bay.

A nearby auto shop and a helpful employee. I’d just gotten a call from the miracle network.

Once the Mazda was inside, I got out, wanting to inspect the damage.

“Let me guess,” the guy said, wiping his hands off with a cloth. It didn’t look like it did any good. “The other guy won.” Crouching down to take a look at my wheel, he shook him head.

“Sharp projectiles hurling themselves into soft, manmade materials generally do,” I replied, kneeling beside him.

“Words to live by,” he said, slapping the tire and standing up. “Let’s get this taken care of for ya, honey.”

“Thank you,” I said, standing. “No rush, but any idea how long this might take?” I’d been on my way to the dance studio, hoping to get a full Saturday of dancing in, but it looked as if my plans might be changing.

“You’ll be in and out in a jiff, hon,” he said, motioning to someone inside the office area. “I’m going to put my best man on it.”

And then, inexplicably, goose bumps rose over my arms, and everything around me got warm and bright.

“Hey, Jude,” the guy hollered, “get your ass out here and help this cute little thing out.”

I could see him through the back windows, his back to the garage, talking on the phone with someone. He hung up the phone and turned around. I’d never before seen a smile disappear so fast. It was a world record, thanks to me.

Then, squaring his shoulders, he marched out of the office, coming around the back of the car.

“What’s the problem, Damon?” Jude asked, staring at the car, refusing to look at me.

“Girl had a run in with a nasty piece of junk,” Damon shouted over, his head hidden in the hood of the truck next to us. “Fix whatever needs done. It’s on the house.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary,” I hollered over at Damon.

Peeking his head out, he looked at me purposefully. “Yeah, it is.”

I would have gone back and forth a few more rounds with him, but when Jude breezed by me without so much as a hello, I knew my fight was needed elsewhere.

“Hey, Jude,” I said, walking a few steps towards where his back was to me, inspecting the tire.

Shoving into a stand, he walked by me, lips sealed shut and eyes dead ahead. He popped the trunk open and pulled the spare free.

“You’ve really got this whole silent thing down,” I called after him. “Good for you, you’ve proved your point that you absolutely disdain me,”—disdain might have been a tad generous for the way Jude ignored me—“but you’re really not going to say hi?”

Pausing at the end of a bay, he grabbed a lever. “Hi,” he said with no inflection. “Now scoot the hell back so I can get your tire fixed and you can be on your way.”

Wow. It was worse than I thought. Jude didn’t disdain me—he hated me. However, I didn’t hate him and I wasn’t going to pretend I did.

“I heard you got a full ride to just about any university of your choice,” I said, hollering over the lift as the Mazda went up.

Watching the car, he responded with a shrug.

“I even heard Coach A mention a few NFL teams are interested.”

Another shrug, this time with the other shoulder.

“The NFL, Jude. Wouldn’t you be, like, one of the first guys to ever be drafted straight out of high school?”

The lift shuddered to a stop, and Jude marched for the flat tire. He glanced over at me where I was leaning against the wall and looked away about as fast. “I’m sure those are just rumors or sensationalized. Besides, even if I did get picked up, I’d wind up on the bench or getting injured playing with guys a hundred pounds larger.”

I couldn’t stop the smile that surfaced. Jude was talking to me again. “Was that just a full sentence directed at me?” I asked, tipping my ear.

Hoisting a tool off a bench, he began ratcheting off the lug nuts. “Actually, that was two.”

“And what have I done to deserve two complete sentences from you?” I didn’t care.

“You’re talking to my good side,” he said, looking over at me and giving me just barely, but enough of a smile.

I never imagined I’d be thankful for a flat tire, but I added it to the list. “I didn’t think you had one.”

“I don’t,” he said, removing the last lug nut. “But damn if one doesn’t try to emerge every blue moon.” Hoisting what was left of the tire and wheel from the axel, he hefted it on the ground.

Damn if he wasn’t the sexiest thing I’d seen in a long time. Maybe ever.

“How have you been?”

“There’s a loaded question,” he said, cocking a brow at me. “How’s Diamond?” he asked as non-emotionally as Jude was capable when he talked about Sawyer.

“Did you just answer a question with a question?”

Rolling the spare around the side, he glanced up at me again. This time for a whole second longer. “I just cancelled out your question with one of my own. You don’t want to answer my question any more than I want to answer yours,” he said. “So we’re square now.”

The man had the most messed up sense of fair and square.

And, because I was the idiot I was, I breeched a topic that I already knew wasn’t going to fly well with him. “Jude,” I began, looking at my hands, “I’m sorry for everything I said and did.”

His body was already tensed as he lifted the spare onto the axel, but it flexed at least fifty percent more. “Can you be any more vague?”

I wasn’t going to get defensive. I wasn’t going to get defensive. “Was that a request or a jab?” I got defensive.

“If you’re thinking about bringing up certain topics,” he began, tightening a lug nut like it had done him a world of wrong, “then it was both.”

Swallow pride. Apologize. My internal dialogue was having to guide me through this. “I’m sorry I followed you that night to Holly’s,” I swallowed, something about that name just didn’t feel right to say, “and I’m sorry I went off on you the next morning.”

“I don’t care about any of that,” he said, clenching his jaw.

“You don’t?” I crossed my arms. “Then why are you still so damn pissed at me you’re about to blow your lid?” Being someone prone to bouts of temper overload, I could spot another’s ticks from ten paces.

Jude exhaled, leaning his forehead into the tire. “Damn it all to hell,” he muttered, banging his socket wrench on the metal cart behind him. “Because,” he began, shifting his eyes over at me, “because you took his word over mine.”

That rendered me speechless. In all my midnight over analyzations, I’d never arrived at this conclusion. “And I was wrong to?” I said slowly. “Because it turned out Sawyer was right.”

“He was right about what?” Jude said in a tone that was scarily controlled.

“You and Holly.” Man, I hated saying that name. I was done. She would now be referred to as the tramp that shall not be named.

“Me and Holly, eh?” He fastened another lug nut into place. “So you didn’t think to ask me about her before you decided to stage a stake out? You didn’t choose to trust me over him?”

“Jude,” I sighed in frustration. He wasn’t getting it, or I wasn’t getting it. One of us was definitely not getting it and neither of us was speaking the same language. “It turns out I had no reason to trust you.”

“And you know this for a fact because?” he asked, fastening the last nut into place. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye; being near him and arguing was better than passing by him and being ignored.

“Because I saw you, Jude,” I said, wondering how much I needed to spell out for him to get it. “I saw you with Holly and . . .” I swallowed, “and the baby. I saw it all.”

“You saw me with Holly and the baby,” he repeated, nodding his head with each word. “And that’s why you can’t trust me?”

This should be more obvious than it was to him. Unless cheating behind one’s back had become a morally accepted practice recently. “I think that pretty much sums it up,” I said, wondering if I was missing something. Something so obvious I was overlooking it.

“Well, there you have it,” he said, striding to the opposite wall. “We’re at an impasse again. Neither one of us trusts the other.” Pressing the lever, the Mazda lowered to the ground.

I didn’t want to go, I wanted to figure out what the hell was going on between us. What gaps we’d been remiss to fill in. “I get you’re still pissed at me and I’m still a little pissed with you too,” I said, following him around the back. “But do you think we can get over it and be friends again?”

He laughed one low note, heaving the flat tire into the trunk.

“I miss you, Jude. I miss having one friend that actually has my back and isn’t throwing daggers at it when I turn around.”

He stopped, keeping his back at me. “Sorry, Lucy. You and I can’t be friends.” Shouldering by me, he went around to the driver’s door and opened it.

“Since when do you call me Lucy?” I asked, feeling a new depth of heartbreak.

“Since we stopped being friends.” He craned his neck to the side, motioning me into the car.

I wouldn’t be herded. I planted my feet and crossed my arms. “You can’t make that choice for the both of us,” I said, glaring at him. “You don’t want to be my friend, fine, that’s real big of you. But you can’t tell me I can’t be your friend. So go screw yourself and deal with it.” Hello, temper, nice to see you raising your ugly head again.

His face didn’t even soften like it used to when I went off on him. “People like you and me cannot be friends, Luce,” he said, staring at me like he used to, “and you know it too.”

“What do I know?” I asked, waiting. And waiting. “Come on,” I said, marching towards him. “What do I know?” Because, for the umpteenth time, I didn’t have a clue.

His lips tightened as he tried to slide aside. I didn’t let him. I blocked his path, shoving him back. “Come on, Ryder. What the hell do I know?”

His eyes blazed, meeting mine. “You can’t be friends with the person you were meant to spend your life with,” he said, his eyes darkening. “So get on with your life and live mine the hell alone.” Nudging by me, he jogged out of the garage and kept going.

And what I regretted most, more than anything I’d screwed up along Jude’s and my journey together, was that I didn’t go after him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Every day of the rest of the school year, I regretted letting him go that day at the garage. I regretted not chasing after him and holding him captive until he explained exactly what the hell he was trying to say. In concise, detailed sentences a woman could decipher.

The months that followed our cryptic conversation left me wishing the silent treatment back because now when Jude passed me in the hall, he was no longer intentionally ignoring me. It was as if I didn’t exist.

I’d gone from something he despised to something he didn’t notice in the space of one conversation that only gave light to more questions.

I turned eighteen last month and was going to graduate next week, and in the fall, I would be a freshman at Juilliard. It was a time to celebrate, to let down my once again long hair and look back at the past with nostalgia and forward to the future with hope.

I was having a tough time implementing that idea and, although I would never allow myself to openly admit the reason why I felt like some lost ship in the night, at the very core of me where things like right and wrong, truth and love existed, I knew why.

“I’m calling time out on your zoning out bouts tonight, Lucy,” Taylor shouted at me over the stereo blasting some song about summer and friends and partying. It was really a terribly cliche song, but I suppose it set the mood for the night. “Tonight is about nothing but having a killer time and being in the moment.”

Sage words coming from a girl that mainly talked about her bright future. “And by that you mean getting smashed and making out with the first piece of ass you see, in the moment?”

Taylor groaned. “And I thought I was a cynic.”

Turning the volume down, I pulled the top of the dress Taylor had stuffed me in up and the bottom of it down. There, now it covered half of my boobs and most of my ass. “Sorry. It just comes so natural when you’ve dressed me like a cheap hooker on her way to work.”

“You’re wearing pearl earrings, for crap’s sake, Lucy,” she said. “Last time I checked, hookers didn’t wear pearls.”

“Fine,” I said, checking my reflection in the mirror for the third time. Could she have added another coat of mascara before my eyelashes snapped in half? “A hooker on her way to church.”

Taylor laughed, staring over at me when we hit a red light. “Jewelry, huh?” she gave me a scandalous look. “Somebody must have been very good, or very naaauw-tie, to get a pair of pearl earrings for a graduation gift.”

“Your depravity never ceases to astound me,” I said, sticking my tongue out. “And the earrings were a graduation gift from my parents, not Sawyer.”

Thank god he hadn’t given me any jewelry yet because I was about three commitment levels below jewelry.

The light flashed green and Taylor gunned her little Volkswagen off the line. “You only have yourself to blame for that. Guys get jewelry for girls as a reward for putting out. It’s a simple fact of life.”

“Again, you are depraved,” I said, rolling down the window. Where I really wanted to be was at the studio, preparing for the next four years of dancing with and against the best. I didn’t want to be crammed in a small car with a high school drama vixen, heading to a graduation party where alcohol would be in endless supply and inhibitions would be in no supply, suctioned into a dress that made a Holly socialite look like a prude.

“Since I’m seeing no diamond pendants or gold bracelets on you, I’m taking it you’re still cock blocking Sawyer into a coma?” The shit this girl came up with. It might have been funny if it wasn’t so sad.

“None of your business.”

“So, no,” she assumed, whipping the car down a gravel road.

“So, hell no,” I edited, since she was going to draw conclusions whether I validated them or not.

“Why not?” she asked as we bumped over the potholes. “You guys have been ‘seeing each other’ since Sadie’s and an official item since Winter Formal. Are you guys taking it slow or some stupid shit like that?”

“I’m taking it slow,” I said as the party grounds came into view. I was familiar with the place, the mansion down on the lake. Sawyer’s parents were out of town at some auto auction, so he decided to throw the most epic graduation party that would go down in the books. His words, not mine. From the end of the road, the Diamonds’ place looked like it was crawling with ants. Drunk ants.

“And Sawyer?” Taylor asked with pointed inflection.

“Sawyer’s a guy. Since when have any of them been for taking things slow in that department?”

“Since never,” she said, answering perhaps the most rhetorical question known to woman.

Finding a vacant spot on the grass, Taylor cut the ignition and dabbed on another coat of lip gloss. The satellites were going to be able to pinpoint those lips if she added another glob of that sparkly, shiny goop.

“Taylor, I’m not really feeling this right now,” I said, grabbing her arm. “Let’s get in and get out. There’s going to be nothing but wasted wannabes in there looking to get laid.”

Peaking her brows at me, she smacked her lips. “Exactly.”

“I feel this is the time I should discuss the correlation between girls with low self-esteem and guys who use this to their advantage,” I said, shoving out of the car and jacking my dress down. The more I pulled it down, the more of my boobs that came popping over the top.

“What’s your point, Debbie Downer?” Taylor said, weaving her elbow through mine.

“Don’t be a statistic,” I said, flashing an overdone smile at her.

“And let me discuss the ramifications between girls who don’t put out for their fine, rich boyfriends heading to college in Southern California in the fall,” she said, pulling me towards the house that rumbled with music.

“This ought to be good,” I muttered.

“They wind up dried up, bitter, old hags with a herd of cats and nothing but cobwebs between their legs.”

Hanging my head back, I groaned. “Add twisted to depraved and I think we’ve got Taylor Donovan pigeon holed.”

We weren’t even on the front lawn and already a cacophony of cat calls and whistles were fog-horning at us. “One hour,” I said, feeling generous, “and we’re out of here.”

“Three hours,” Taylor countered, giving some guy draped over the front stairs a smile that made me blush. “And don’t forget you’re my DD tonight, so no skipping out.”

I was all for playing chaperone and DD for my friends to make sure they made it through the night safe and in one piece, but I wished I had pawned Taylor off on someone else tonight because getting through three hours of everyone partying while I felt like the anti-party was going to mean bloodshed.

“It’s about time the party showed up,” Morrison shouted over the music at us, running his eyes down the two of us like he was using his hands.

“It’s officially started now,” Taylor replied, feeling like the belle of the ball from the looks we were getting. I suppose when you showed up to a party with inebriated guys rocking a scrap of fabric and a heap of makeup, oogling was par for the course.

“What’s your poison, ladies?” Morrison asked, weaving towards the bar area set up on Sawyer’s mom’s Italian buffet. She would bust something if she saw what was littered on it right now.

“Make it a screwdriver,” Taylor yelled over at him.

Morrison’s mouth curved up. “I believe I can accommodate that request.”

And I still had to put up with two hours and fifty nine minutes of this hedonism. Looked like someone was going to spend their time down on the hopefully vacant beach.

“Lucy?” Morrison called.

I was smart enough to know you didn’t take an open drink from a guy, most of all someone like Luke Morrison.

“I’m good,” I said, shooting him a thumbs up. Leaning into Taylor, I said, “Be good and call me if anyone tries something. I’m getting some fresh air.”

“Somebody better try something on me,” she replied, putting on a smile as Morrison made his way back to us with a drink in hand.

“Statistics,” I said, heading for the back door. “Don’t become one.”

“Don’t become a cobweb growing old hag!” she shouted after me.

Winding my way through the maze of students in the kitchen, I shoved a couple making out to the side so I could open the refrigerator. One can of pop was stuffed behind all the beer, and that’s what the designated driver snatched.

“Hot dress, Lucy!” someone yelled from somewhere in the kitchen. I didn’t validate it with a response.

“Sawyer’s looking for you. Something tells me he’s going to be a happy man when he finds you!”

I couldn’t get down to the beach fast enough. It was quiet and almost vacant save for a couple doing the nasty in Mrs. Diamond’s lounger. The night was warm and the water was so still it almost seemed like I could walk out on it without falling beneath the surface.

I slipped out of Taylor’s nude peep-toes and walked out to the end of the dock. I was going to have my own little party right here. Just me and Mr. Lemon Lime. I cracked open the can and took a sip. What the hell was wrong with me? When had the girl who used to love being the life of the party become the girl who found a quiet little corner to sulk?

Like most the questions I posed to myself these days, it always came down to the same answer. The same name.

“Not really my scene either.”

I jumped so hard I managed to spill a quarter of lemon lime soda all over Taylor’s very inappropriate dress. It would be the last time she’d lend me something from her wardrobe and that made me rather happy.

“Yeah, me neither,” I said, wiping the beads of pop off the champagne colored shiny material. “Obviously.”

“Nothing’s obvious about you, Lucy Larson.”

So those words, and that voice, very much got my attention now I wasn’t enraptured with pop removal. Even her voice was prettier than mine.

Looking over my shoulder, there was Holly, wearing a dark pair of skinny jeans and a white tee shirt, looking down at me. I didn’t know whether to offer her a seat or bail into the lake and swim for the opposite shore. I didn’t know what she knew, if she knew anything at all about me and Jude, and I sure as hell didn’t want to round robin our relationships with Jude together.

In the end, I decided to be civil. “Hey, Holly,” I said, “pull up a chair.”

She’d obviously sought me out, this wasn’t some happenstance meeting, so she had something she needed to say. I wanted to get this out of the way so I could continue to fail at trying to move on with my life.

She sat down, setting her red plastic cup to the side, and rolled up her jeans. “I thought I’d have a tough time getting you alone,” she said, dipping her feet in the water and scooting closer. “I hear you’ve become Southpointe’s ‘it’ girl this year.”

I didn’t want to think about who she’d heard that from.

“If you mean ‘it’ girl in terms of the one who’s had more rumors and half-truths shot at me than an entire club of strippers, than yeah, I guess I did wear that sash this year.” I was sounding a little more defensive than I wanted, but I was having a conversation with the girl who my ex-boyfriend had a love child with. Defensive wasn’t as bad as it could be.

She nodded, staring out into the lake. “Sorry I didn’t get a chance to hand that crown over personally. My reign ended last year after I dropped out.”

I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t ready to sympathize with her and I should have been able to emphasize, but I was coming up short in that department.