Chapter Sixteen #2
I scoop up the clothes. “Those are dirty.” I shove them in my closet.
“And the ones on your floor aren’t?”
“No. The ones in my closet are.”
He eyes me like he’s trying to decipher a new language.
“Right.” He kicks off his shoes and jumps onto my bed with his legs extended.
“It’s birthday movie night. What should we watch first?
I was thinking Stand by Me. Then move into Labyrinth.
And finish with Top Gun. Or should we end with Labyrinth? Bowie’s pretty epic.”
I move to shut the door and plug in the fairy lights strung like a canopy above my bed.
“Door stays open,” Collin tells me. “That was the deal. Don’t get me kicked out now that I’ve broken them down.”
“Can I shut off the hall light? It’s annoyingly bright.” I’m not fully myself, preferring to hide under my covers. Collin’s a jolt of caffeine to my emotional hangover.
“I guess. We didn’t get into the specifics about the lighting.
We did negotiate on space between us.” He stacks two pillows along one side of his body.
“You get the messier side of the room. Now, don’t try to take advantage of me.
I may have to resort to pelting you with a pillow to defend my honor. ”
I laugh. It feels strange. Like a bubble bursting in my chest.
He pulls something out of the bag and straps a rubber pig nose to his face. “And we have to wear these the entire time.” He tosses me one that I clumsily catch. “That’s nonnegotiable.”
I smile at him. “Thanks for being here.”
“Where else would I be?” He smiles back.
Jonathan is waiting for me when I step onto my porch Monday morning. His jet-black hair is wet and wavy, and he’s leaning against his truck with his arms and feet crossed, like he’s posing for a jeans commercial. He takes my breath away; I can’t help it.
He pushes off the truck to stand upright and smiles tentatively, like he’s not sure he’s allowed to be here. “Hi.”
“Hi,” I reply, hugging my lunch pack to my chest, probably crushing everything inside.
“Thought I’d offer you a ride to school.” He opens the passenger door. “If you’ll let me.”
I swallow, unable to disconnect from the dark, mournful eyes begging for forgiveness. He looks so vulnerable; it’s breaking my heart.
I nod.
I climb up into his truck, and he hesitates before closing the door, like he wants to say something. But he shuts it instead.
Jonathan’s quiet almost the entire ride to school. As much as I’m dying to fill the silence, I can’t. I promised myself he’d be the first to say something. And I’m determined to make that happen even if it takes him forever. Well… not forever, but these past ten minutes feel like forever.
“I’m sorry,” Jonathan finally says. “I wish I could say something better than that. But I am… sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin your birthday weekend.”
“Is that what you’re sorry about? Ruining my birthday? Not hitting Oren?”
He glances at me, dumbfounded. “He shoved you to the ground. You expected me not to do something?”
“Yes,” I reply, but not nearly as strong as I wish it were.
“I mean, you promised you’d never hurt someone because of me again after the fight in sixth grade that got you suspended for a week.
” There were a few other times I questioned if the fights he got into had something to do with me, but he or Collin always provided a different explanation.
And I was never there to witness them, not until last night.
Jonathan nods slowly while staring out the windshield, obviously not agreeing with me.
“There has to be another way—other than fighting,” I try to explain calmly, though still with a hint of desperation. I loathe violence. Or any tension really. He knows this.
“Of course there is, but not with a drunk guy who has no problem laying his hands on a girl! Especially my girl.”
The passion in his voice makes all argument leave me. I have nothing. Not that I love being a possession, but still… I’m his girl. And now I’m a gooey mess of patheticness.
“Are you still mad?” He glances at me sheepishly.
I lift a shoulder. “I just wish… it hadn’t happened like it did.”
“Me too.” Jonathan pulls into his assigned parking spot and puts the truck in park. He shifts to face me. “That was the first time you’ve seen me…”
I know what he’s asking. I nod. “It scared me. Seeing you that angry. That… out of control.”
“I wasn’t… I mean, I was a bit. I’m sorry. The last thing I want is for you to be afraid of me.”
“Not of you,” I correct vehemently. “For you.”
His eyes narrow, not understanding.
I try to explain. “That—that much anger lives inside you. That you can get so upset the only way to let it out is to hurt someone.”
He swallows.
My words hurt him. His silence and avoiding gaze make me think that’s not how he sees himself. I do what I can to salvage the situation and clutch his face and pull his mouth to mine. He responds instantly, the relief flowing over him as he pulls me to him, lifting me onto his lap.
I’m so lost in the heat of his kiss that I forget where we are. Whistles and hollers interrupt the words I was trying to say with our kiss. I shift off him immediately, my face in flames.
When we enter the school, hands clutched, we’re assaulted with the buzz.
About the party. About the after-party. About how loaded my family is.
Never like hearing that one, no matter how many times it circulates.
But one comment stutters my steps: “Did you hear? Oren may not play in the playoff game this weekend. Guess he got so drunk, he gave himself a concussion.”
I glance at Jonathan. His focus is straight ahead, like he doesn’t hear any of it.
At the end of the hall, Danika is standing with her arms crossed, glaring at us. She connects with me and shakes her head, a look of disgust on her face. Whipping around, she stomps off. My heart sinks.
Jonathan squeezes my hand, the only indication that he saw her.
“Got our tickets,” Collin announces out of nowhere, flopping an arm around my shoulders and holding up the homecoming tickets. “I’m wearing a powder-blue suit, so make sure we don’t clash.”
“What?” Jonathan looks over at him.
Collin grins wildly. “Homecoming.”
“What about it?”
“I’m going with Sadie.” His response is so matter-of-fact. Like he’s reminding Jonathan of something he should already know. Or that this is the most obvious answer.
Jonathan looks between us, his hand loosening in mine. “You are?”
I give him a tight smile, not sure how to react to his shocked expression. “Um… yeah. You don’t do dances, and Collin asked, so…”
Collin looks at him funny. “I told you.”
“You didn’t.” His hand is no longer holding mine. “I need to talk to Coach about using the pool before school.”
He turns around and heads back the way we came. Collin still has an arm around me. “What’s his deal?”
I let out a slow breath and shrug. I really don’t understand him.
Did I ever?