Chapter 39
Sam
It’s been a week since Jameson called me upset. We talked again that night, and he told me the whole story, everything that’s been going on with his mother. I’d picked up pieces from being around, but I hadn’t realized how bad things had actually gotten.
Today when we got to his house, after he picked me up from school, we found his mother sitting at the kitchen table.
She looked brighter than I’ve seen her since everything happened.
A bit of life to her that wasn’t there before.
Just the fact that she was out of her room, dressed, and eating is a huge step.
One that I know Jameson will never take credit for.
Every time he gives her pills, it breaks another little piece of him. I know his mother sees it, but she keeps asking. Keeps taking.
Still, things are getting better. They’re not good, but they’re also not as bad as they were a week ago.
And that’s something, I guess.
“Baby?”
“Hmm?” I ask, looking up from my calculus book.
Jameson hovers over where I’m sitting on his bed. “I said, do you want a burger? I’m gonna run by Matty’s.”
“Oh.” I smile. “Yeah, thanks.”
He leans down and quickly kisses me before starting for the door.
“Don’t forget—”
“No tomato,” he finishes. “I know.”
“Thank you,” I tell him as he steps into the hallway.
I focus back on the worksheet in front of me, trying to cram for a test on Monday. There are about a million other ways I’d rather be spending my Friday night, but since I’ll be working all weekend, this is the only time I have to study.
It’s nights like these, when the numbers in front of me start to blur together, that I think about dropping out. My promise to Johnny, sometimes it’s the only thing that keeps me going.
My eyes automatically snap up when I hear a laugh from the doorway, startling when I see Jameson.
Has it been that long already?
He motions to the book in front of me. “You look like you wanna murder the thing.” He drops his gaze, lingering on the pencil I’m biting.
“You would be, too, if you were trying to solve this shit,” I whine. “I’ve been on the same problem since you left.”
“Good thing you’ll never use calculus a day in your life,” he says, leaning against the doorframe.
“Tell that to Newton,” I mutter.
“Huh?”
I shake my head. “Issac Newton, he invented calculus. Well, him and this other guy, Leibniz.”
He snorts. “Why the fuck do you know that?”
I shrug. “I don’t know.”
“You’re such a nerd.”
“I am not,” I say, standing.
“Just ’cause you don’t look like one”—he drags his eyes up my body, slowing on the cleavage my crossed arms are pushing up—“doesn’t mean you aren’t one. You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met.” He takes a step forward. “Only makes you hotter.”
I tilt my head as he closes the distance between us. “You like me for my brain then, huh?”
He drops his voice as he slides his hands up under my shirt, causing my arms to fall, then drags his fingers along the band of my bra. “Among other things.”
“Hmm,” I breathe. “And what other things do you like about me?”
His hands continue to explore as he presses his body closer to mine. “I’ll show you later,” he answers before stepping back.
I sag forward, instantly missing his touch. “Later?”
He motions to the door. “Food’s gonna get cold.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“What? You can be patient, can’t you?”
“You’re such a fucking tease.”
“Gotta pay you back for all the times you’ve done it to me.”
“I’m not a tease,” I shoot back.
He raises an eyebrow.
“What?”
“You ever seen yourself?”
I stare back at him.
“Everything you do is … Let’s just say I’ve already had a lot of practice being patient.”
I pull my bottom lip between my teeth, making his eyes drop to my mouth again.
He jerks his chin in my direction. “Case in fucking point.”
“Well,” I murmur, stepping toward him, “you better make it worth the wait.”
“You know I always do.”
“That’s a lot of big talk,” I say, inching forward.
He smirks. “Not like I can’t back it up.”
“We’ll see,” I breathe.
He pulls away from me again, starting for the door. “Let’s go,” he says, his voice even, as if the last five minutes didn’t even happen.
I scowl, pushing past him. “You’re gonna pay for this.”
He comes up behind me, shutting his door with a click. “Can’t wait.”
Jameson’s mother is already at the table when we walk into the kitchen, three plates laid out and the bag from Matty’s in front of her.
I slide into a chair, Jameson taking the one next to me. He looks over at his mother’s empty plate.
“You didn’t have to wait for us.”
She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I wanted to.”
He watches her for a moment then nods, a spark of hope in his eyes before he blinks and it’s gone.
I take the burger he passes me, offering a quiet thanks, and unwrap it as he hands out the rest of the food. He eyes the fries I’ve dumped onto my plate and mutters, “Almost forgot.”
He stands, and a minute later, he’s back, placing a chocolate milkshake in front me.
I grin over at him, popping off the lid and dipping a fry inside. “You’re the best.”
He smiles back at me. “Gotta keep you sweet.”
I lean into him, dropping my voice. “Thought you liked me mean.”
He lets out a low laugh, and I pull away from him, grabbing another fry.
I look up and find his mother watching us, eyeing Jameson curiously. She picks at her burger, only taking a bite when she realizes he noticed she’s barely touched her plate.
She sets the burger down, clearing her throat. “I was wondering if maybe …” She shakes her head, picking it back up and taking a bite as if to silence herself.
“Wondering what?” Jameson asks.
“Never mind. It’s stupid.”
“Wondering what?” he repeats, his voice gentler this time.
“If I could … get my hair done. Maybe my nails.” She drops her eyes to the table. “I want to go out …” She looks back up. “Like we talked about … but I don’t want anyone to see me when I look like this.”
“Like what?”
She motions to herself as if it’s obvious. “Ugly. Old.”
“You’re thirty-six, Ma,” Jameson answers. “And you’re not—”
“Please,” she says quietly. “I need this to feel …” She lets out a breath. “I just need this.”
He watches her silently.
“And I’ve been doing good, right?” she presses. “A lot better.”
He nods.
“Maybe I can even get a job. Help out, you know? I heard what you said about this all being on you—”
A phone ringing cuts her off, all of us looking around until we realize it’s mine.
It’s rare that anyone other than Jameson calls me, so when I pick up, my answer is nervous. “Hello?”
“Where are you?” my sister asks, her tone frantic. I can hear Jace crying in the background.
“Jameson’s. Why?”
“Carson went down during the game.”
“Went down?”
“They rushed him to the hospital. I don’t have all the details, but it’s …” She trails off. “I’m heading there now.”
“Fuck,” I breathe, meeting Jameson’s eyes. “Is he gonna be okay?”
“I don’t know,” she responds. “Can you get here? I might need help with Jace. I don’t know how Dad’s gonna be.”
“Yeah,” I tell her. “Yeah, I’ll leave now.”
Jace’s cries turn to high-pitched screams as she says, “I gotta go.”
The second I hang up, Jameson asks, “What happened?”
“I need you to drive me to the hospital.” I push back my chair. “Carson went down during the game tonight. That’s all I know … but Cathleen sounded …”
In an instant, he’s standing. “I’ll grab my keys.”
He’s back a minute later, and his face pinches when he sees me standing in the same place he left me.
“Hey,” he says softly. “I’m sure he’ll be fine.”
As guilty as it makes me feel, I shake my head. “That’s not what I’m …”
He steps closer to me.
“My dad’s gonna lose it. You don’t understand. If he can’t play …”
He takes my hand. “I’ll stay with you, okay?”
I nod.
He turns to his mother. “You good here?”
She waves him off. “Go, I’m fine.”
Then she turns her focus to me. “I hope everything’s okay.”
“Thank you,” I respond before Jameson leads me to the car.
The hospital doors slide open, a sterile smell and cold air hitting my skin.
We turn into the waiting room, and I tense when I hear my father yelling, “Don’t you fucking tell me to calm down!”
He’s pacing in front of where Cathleen sits, bouncing a crying Jace on her lap.
“Jesus,” he shouts. “Does that kid ever shut up?”
A woman wearing scrubs stands across from him. “Sir,” she says sternly. “You need to sit down or step outside.”
He turns to face her, muttering something I can’t make out before he storms off, walking past me like I’m not even here.
Jameson’s grip on my hand tightens as we walk up to Cathleen.
When Jace sees me, he squirms in her lap, holding out his arms to me. I step forward, dropping Jameson’s hand and reaching for him. “Hi, baby,” I murmur as he tucks his head into the crook of my neck.
Cathleen stands, rolling out her shoulders. “They took him back into surgery a few minutes ago.”
“That quick?” I ask.
“I didn’t understand a lot of what they were saying. I hate when they use all those fancy words, you know?”
I nod.
“But they were saying stuff like trauma and other things that …” She shifts nervously. “I think it might be really bad.”
I look over my shoulder, toward the door our father just exited. “Dad?”
“You saw him,” she says.
“Maybe we should—”
“I’ll go,” she cuts in, dropping her gaze to Jace. “You stay with him.”
“Are you sure? ’Cause I can—”
“I’m sure,” she answers firmly. “I’ll deal with him.” She nods to the chair she was just in. “Sit. I’ll be back.” She looks over at Jameson. “You staying with her?”
He nods.
She watches him for a minute, noting his protective stance beside me. “Good,” she says before starting after our father.