56. Margot
56
margot
The arcade bar is fun. I mean, it’s loud and packed, and it would probably be a lot more fun if I didn’t keep seeing Jackson in people who are definitely not Jackson. But I’m okay. I’m doing better than I thought I would.
I’m stable.
Coasting.
Along for the ride.
We only got here a little while ago, and Matt and Rae already started bickering about who could beat the other at Skee-Ball. Rae may have no interest in video games, but she has a competitive streak. She and Matt are now side by side, ready to face off, while Braden and I hang back to see how this unfolds.
“Who’s your money on?” Braden leans in a little closer to be heard over the loud music and overlapping game sounds.
I give him my best smile. “Rae. Always Rae.”
He puts his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels. “I don’t know.” He drags out the words. “I’m pretty sure Matt’s chivalry dies as soon as someone keeps score. And this has points.” He shakes his head. “Forget it. ”
I narrow my eyes at him. “And you don’t think Rae can win on skill alone?”
Braden sucks in air through his teeth. “Matt plays lacrosse. If Rae beats him at this, he may need to hang it up.”
My lips twist. “We’ll see, I guess.” I turn my attention back to our friends, but Braden leans in again.
“I heard what happened. I’m sorry.”
My chest tightens. Giving him a quick glance, I offer a tight-lipped smile. “Thanks.”
“Are you okay?”
My mouth opens, and I’m on the verge of creating some bullshit response, but when my eyes meet his, something shifts. There’s something about the way he’s looking at me that makes me feel like he really cares. He isn’t asking to be polite or because it’s the right thing to do. He’s asking because he genuinely wants to know if I’m okay. I force a laugh that tastes bitter on my tongue and shake my head. “No.”
He nods. “Breakups suck.”
I blow out a breath. “Yes, they do.” With a tilt of my head, I ask, “What was your longest relationship?”
Braden’s eyebrows shoot up, and I’m not sure if he’s surprised by my question or surprised that I’m initiating more conversation with him. While I was with Jackson, I always felt so guilty talking to Braden, especially when I started to suspect he might have feelings for me.
But I guess now it doesn’t matter.
“Almost four years,” he finally says, and I blink.
“ Four years? ”
He lets out a light laugh. “Almost.”
“What happened?”
Braden rubs his palm over his chest like he’s soothing an old wound. “Nothing really. We dated for three years in high school. Tried to make it work in college, but we got accepted to different schools.” He shrugs. “The distance eventually caught up with us.”
“I’m sorry.” I look at him, seeing him in a different light. “Distance is such a bitch.”
“Yeah.” He lets out a laugh. “Yeah, she is.” The song changes, and he leans a little closer. “It’s okay, though. Time heals all wounds.”
“I hope so.”
His eyes meet mine. “It does.”
I have to fight the urge to tear my eyes away, but luckily Rae bounds up to me. “I won,” she says with a smug look.
Matt walks up to Braden with a cheesy grin. “I let her win.”
“Oh, no you didn’t. You are such a liar.” She gives Braden a serious look. “He’s lying.”
Braden chuckles. “I know he is.” Then he nods to one of the high-tops nearby. “Let’s get a table. I should be able to get us some drinks if my friend Anthony is working tonight.”
“Nice!” Matt walks backward toward the table and points to Rae. “What will it be?”
Rae tilts her head, considering his question as she gets onto the barstool. “I’ll take a cider if they have one.”
Braden looks over at me. “And for you?”
His question has me feeling like we’re on a double date, and the air around me is suddenly harder to breathe. “I can get it.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “You know Anthony, too?”
“Oh, right.” Having him bring back a drink for me feels like too much. “Um, I’m okay.”
Braden frowns. “Are you sure? I’ll buy.”
If only he knew how much worse that made it. I can’t let him buy me a drink. Then it’s way too much like a date. Heat creeps up my neck, and I shake my head again. “I’m okay.”
His shoulders sag, and as if he can see what I’m thinking, he softens. “It’s just a drink, Margot. It doesn’t mean anything.”
My eyes search his. I already have guilt weighing on me from initiating the breakup with Jackson. I don’t need more piled on for giving Braden the wrong impression. He doesn’t look like he’s trying to flirt with me, though. He looks sincere. He is sincere. Forcing a breath, I nod. “Sure. Okay. A cider sounds good.”
He smiles, but I can see the sympathy behind it. I hate that he can see how broken I am. Then again, maybe it’s better this way. On the off chance he actually does have a crush on me, it will be a clear indicator that I am still very much unavailable.
I watch as the guys leave us and head toward the bar, and by the time I sense Rae’s eyes on me it’s too late. She caught me staring.
“Braden is a great guy,” she says, watching for my reaction.
I look back at the bar. Braden is a great guy. He’s responsible, dependable, attractive, and he makes some of the best food I’ve ever eaten. But that’s all he is. Nothing about him sets my soul on fire. Part of me wishes I had the capacity to fall for someone like Braden, but I don’t think I do. Maybe one day when the wounds aren’t so fresh. “Yeah,” I agree. “He is.”
I look back at her, and she adds, “But so is Jackson.”
Hearing his name has my heart skipping a beat. The corners of my lips lift, but that’s as close to a smile as I can manage. “Yeah.” I glance at the bar to make sure the guys aren’t coming back before saying, “I’m surprised Matt doesn’t hate me.”
Her eyebrows crease. “Why would he?”
“For breaking up with his best friend? If he dumped you, I’d feel a certain way about it.”
Rae laughs. “Look, Matt and I talked about that as soon as you and Jackson got together. We’re all friends. It might be weird for a little while, but it will balance out. ”
I try to imagine being Jackson’s friend. Will I ever be able to be in the same room as him without the air feeling charged? What about when he moves on? Will I be able to be around his future girlfriend? Just imagining him sitting on a couch somewhere with his arm around another girl has me feeling sick. And kissing her? And I’ll know they’re sleeping together.
A wave of nausea hits me. What if he’s sleeping with other girls now? I mean, he’s single. He can do what he wants . . . as a rockstar . . . in a successful band.
Oh god.
Rae’s eyebrows pinch. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” I force a swallow because my mouth has gone dry. “I could just really use that drink.”
She eyes me warily. “Remember, if it gets to be too much, we can go.”
I shake my head, forcing myself to breathe through my nose. “It’s not too much.” I can’t be this fragile. I can’t let my self-sabotaging thoughts get to me.
Rae points over her shoulder. “I’m going to get you some water. I’ll be right back.”
I don’t even argue with her. I’m a wreck. I don’t have any business being out. I’m still in the wallowing phase. I should be somewhere that lets me wallow. Everything in me wants to unblock the American Thieves on social media so I can see what he’s been up to, but I know I shouldn’t. There’s a very real possibility that I could be faced with more pictures like the ones that started this in the first place, and I don’t have the stomach for it right now.
The song in the bar changes, and I stop breathing. I’d know that familiar tempo anywhere. It’s one of American Thieves’ most popular songs—usually the second to last song they play on tour. Dave’s voice comes through the speakers, and the familiar sound makes me homesick. Not for a place, but for a time, for what could have been, for a feeling. Remembering how it felt to stand at the side of the stage or in the front row while the band played hits me with a force so strong, my fingers grip the table edge in front of me like I might be blown away.
I’ve never heard their music played out in public before. Are they being played on radio stations now? Is the bar listening to them on a Spotify playlist? Either way, it’s a big deal. Between this and the headlining tour, I have to say something. Not congratulating him on something so big feels . . . wrong.
Before Rae can come back and talk me out of it, I pull out my phone and tap on Jackson’s name. My hands shake as I type out my message.
Margot:
The bar I’m in is playing one of your songs right now. This is huge, Jackson. Congratulations.
Explanation points felt weird, so I leave the message as is and press send.
I take a steadying breath, and my nerves immediately settle. Congratulating him was the right thing to do. I know it in my gut. And having that severed connection partially restored has the world feeling more balanced again, like it’s been off its axis, but now it’s shifting in the right direction.
“Here’s a water,” Rae says, setting a cup in front of me.
“And a cider,” Braden adds as he sets a glass on my other side.
I glance between the two of them with a light smile. “Thanks.”
Everyone takes their seats, and I take a sip of my water. Matt and Braden start talking about all the games they want to play while they’re here, and when Matt mentions Donkey Kong, I look over at Rae and laugh.
My phone lights up on the table, and my heart jumps into my throat. Jackson’s name appears on the lock screen, and I can read the whole message without opening my phone.
Jackson:
Thanks. That means a lot.
Something in me sinks. I should have known, right? I should have known he wouldn’t have more to say.
I deserve it.
And it’s probably for the best.
But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.
I take another deep breath and turn my phone over. That’s that, I guess. My cider suddenly sounds a lot more appealing than water, so I take a few not so delicate gulps.
My phone buzzes on the table again, and part of me doesn’t want to know. It’s probably a random notification, and I’ll just be disappointed. I leave it and try to focus on the conversation at the table in front of me.
Rae catches my eye and mouths, “You okay?” She points up, and follows it with, “The song.”
I nod and give her my best smile. “Thanks again for the water.”
My eyes wander to my phone again, my fingers tapping against the glass bottle covered in cool condensation. Temptation gets the best of me, and I quickly flip my phone back over to see Jackson’s first message, followed by a second. And as soon as I read it, I breathe a little easier.
Jackson:
How have you been?