Chapter 34
THIRTY-FOUR
jade
“We’re taking a field trip today.”
I open one eye lazily to see Reeve standing over me. “What’s that, like a sex act?” I ask groggily.
“Only if you want it to be.” He squeezes my thigh, jolting my ticklish nerves awake. “No, I told you we’d work on your Spanish today, and we will, but we’re going to take it outside.”
“Forget Spanish, I shouldn’t have even asked. You just got back in town, and I’m sure you’re tired. Let’s have a lazy Sunday.”
“I’m not tired. I feel amazing.” He’s fresh off another great game, and it shows. Last night, when he came over straight from the airport, it felt like the stress of the last few weeks had been lifted from his shoulders. “Besides, you’re the one who’s going to work hard today, not me.”
Our field trip takes us directly south of campus, onto a short stretch of highway, and then into a busy section of town lined with bodegas, barbers, pawn shops, and tiny restaurants.
It’s a gorgeous and bright late-October day, the kind that could make even a football hater love fall.
Reeve pulls onto a residential street, and then another where small, boxy houses sit on treeless lots.
He slows to a stop and leans over me to point at the house out my window. “That one’s mine.”
The house is a sun-bleached shade of teal that gives it a cheerful look despite the peeling paint, the overgrown grass, and the weeds sprouting thigh-high around the crumbling path leading to the front door. “This is your house? Where you grew up?”
“A real palace, ain’t she?”
“It’s cute,” I say as he pulls into the empty driveway and turns off the car. “Is your mom here? Because I’m really not dressed to meet parents.”
“Yeah, right. My mom lost this place years ago. She’s living with her sister an hour away from here; this month, anyway.”
“Oh.” I’m relieved and then disappointed.
Reeve sees my expression and shakes his head. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“Do what?”
“Introduce you to my mom. Believe me, I’m doing you a favor.”
We get out of the car and Reeve looks at the house, his arms crossed. “You know how much I don’t miss this place?” He holds out his hand for me. “Come on, let’s look around back.”
I hesitate. “You’re really taking a leap of faith that this homeowner isn’t also a gun owner.”
“Nobody lives here. Let’s go.”
The backyard is overgrown and littered with the skeletal remains of old furniture and plastic toys. Reeve shades his eyes and looks into a window. “Holy shit. My Batman wallpaper’s still up.”
I stand on tiptoe to peek in beside him. “This was your room?”
“Uh-huh. I loved that wallpaper so much. One of my mom’s boyfriends put it up for me, but we could only afford to cover that one wall. God, I hated that dude.”
“He sounds nice to decorate your room like that.”
“He wasn’t. Believe me.” He takes my hand again and we circle the house. Reeve looks in a few more windows, but they don’t hold his attention. By the time we come back around to the front, his jaw is set with tension. “So is this the kind of place you imagined me growing up?”
“If you hadn’t told me anything about your life, I would have imagined you growing up in some grand house on a sunny street with a big backyard perfect for throwing a football.”
“I did. That’s Cam’s house.” He glances at the front door and then turns his back to it. “Thank god I got out of here. I would never have made it if I stayed.”
“I don’t know about that. There’s a willful side to you I’d be scared to mess with.”
“No, I mean it. I actually have a future to live for, and it’s only because I left.” His eyes are extra blue as a faraway look comes over them, and I know he’s picturing that future a million miles from here. I have to turn away from him.
“Well, I love your little house but I’m not seeing how this is going to improve my Spanish.”
Reeve focuses on something in the distance, then breaks into a smile. “Hold on. You’re about to.” He waves and calls out, “Hey! Mateo!”
I turn around to find a young guy walking our way, shielding his eyes from the sun. “What up, man? ?Bienvenido a la cuadra!”
Reeve and Mateo hug and clap each other on the back; then they’re off and running with a conversation in Spanish that goes completely over my head, save for a few words.
“Mateo and I grew up in the neighborhood together,” Reeve tells me after a minute. “His mom used to babysit me when I was a kid, and we played together all through elementary school. Stop me if you want me to translate.”
Mateo looks from Reeve to me. “Oh, sorry, you only speak English?”
“No te preocupes. She needs to learn.” Reeve pulls me close. “Mateo, ella es Jade, mi novia.”
Mateo takes my hand. “Encantado de conocerte, Jade.”
“Mucho gusto, Mateo,” I say automatically, my heart fluttering inside my chest because I just realized what Reeve said.
“You need a translation yet?” Reeve asks. His eyes burn bright with mischievousness.
I squeeze his hand and shake my head. He just introduced me as his girlfriend.
I don’t stop smiling for the next half hour, not even when I stumble through my Spanish with Mateo, or when Mateo’s mom, who joins us on the sidewalk, asks whether I’m sure I wouldn’t rather her speak English, because even though her English isn’t perfect, my Spanish is far worse.
I don’t stop holding Reeve’s hand, either, even though I’m sure I look like some sort of vapid, desperate clinger. The educational aspect of this so-called field trip is lost on me because my brain is too clouded with exhilaration to absorb any Spanish.
After we say goodbye to Mateo and his mom, we walk through his neighborhood, and he introduces me to the other neighbors we run into. They all know him and greet him like family, though no one seems surprised to see him. I wonder how often he comes back here.
When we’re finally alone, he pries his hand from mine and drapes his arm over my shoulder so I’m tucked up close against his body.
“Was that okay?” he asks.
“It was great. Your neighbors are so sweet.”
“I mean the other thing.” He searches my eyes. “We never talked about that.”
“The girlfriend thing? It was better than okay.” Suddenly I feel a little shy. “Now that you’ve said it to your friends, will you say it to me?” I stop walking and turn to him.
Reeve smiles and rakes his hand through his hair.
“I swear to god, Jade Kelly, you’re the only girl on earth who can make me nervous.
” His smile wavers. “I’ve wanted to say those words for a long time.
I know we said no relationships, but even if you refused to be my girlfriend, you’d still be my girl, you know that?
Because you’re all I think about, and there’s no room for anyone else.
You’re everything I swore I never wanted, but that was only because I was afraid of having something I was scared to lose.
” He exhales. “I guess that’s my long-winded way of saying you make me happy. ”
Joy, pure and warm, floods my chest. I reach for his hand, which is fidgeting at his side, his fingers nervously flexing. “Happy? Like winning-the-biggest-stuffed-animal-at-the-carnival happy?”
“More like throwing the pass that wins the national championship. And winning the lottery. And having sex with the most beautiful girl on earth.” He reaches for my hand.
I laugh softly, but my throat feels thick with emotion. I lace my fingers through his and squeeze. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”
“You don’t have to say it better. Just say it.”
“Say what?”
“How you feel. Have you ever noticed I turn into a walking rain cloud of feelings around you? Meanwhile, you’re the Sahara. So tell me something.”
I open my mouth, struggling to find the words that could possibly match the feeling inside me. “I feel the same way you do. Happy.”
His eyes are trained on my face. “That’s all I get?”
“Well, it’s probably the same happiness you feel, but since I’ve never thrown a pass or won the lottery or had sex with a girl—”
“Jade,” he says solemnly.
I swallow as sweat beads at my lower back.
For the first time, I admit it to myself: I love him.
I’ve known it since that night at Lorenzo’s lake house, but I didn’t let myself believe it.
So what I want to say to Reeve is, Fuck it all, that I’m ready to give up Spain and everything else in my life for him, and I want nothing in return except his love, but that’s next level compared to him calling me his girlfriend.
Still, the worry in his eyes assures me the only thing worse than embarrassing myself by opening up would be hurting him by not.
I squeeze his hand again, hoping to absorb some of his strength.
The words are all there in my head, but they feel impossible to say out loud.
Why is it so hard to say I love you when, for the first time, I know it’s true?
“I feel like I don’t deserve you,” I finally say.
“I never even hoped for something this good because I never imagined I could get it. You just—you make things possible.” I look out at the car driving down the street, willing myself to not ask him whether he’d give up just as much for me.
“You make me question whether the future I planned is really the one I want.”
All the worry leaves his eyes, and he places a kiss on my forehead. “You’re wrong, Jade, you do deserve me. We deserve each other.”
And for now those words are enough.
“So what are the odds I get to see your childhood home one of these days?” Reeve asks when we’re back in the car.
“You mean Norman Rockwell world? Pretty slim, unless you plan to visit without me.”
“You don’t like going home? Bad memories?”
“Yes and no. I have good memories of being a kid, but that was when I was too little to see what was really happening.”
“What was happening?”
“My mom being miserable in her marriage because she couldn’t accept he wasn’t in love with her anymore. It was not a nice wake-up call.”
“Are they still like that?”