Chapter 12
twelve
I thought Jake and I would collapse on the couch tonight and veg out, watching an action movie as we internally processed the day.
Instead, I’m obsessing over the arrangement of the hodgepodge refreshments we picked up on the way home because Jake invited a few of our high school friends to catch up at my mom’s house.
We haven’t been in the same place since graduation.
A lifetime ago. I was a completely different person then—we all were.
“I feel so much better after getting the funeral smell off me,” Jake says, strolling into the kitchen wearing a pair of dark jeans and a light gray T-shirt and running his fingers through his wet hair.
“Sorry again for inviting everyone over before checking with you. Catching up with them made me forget about what happened, and I wanted that to continue.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’ll be great to hang out with all of them,” I reply with a small smile, hoping he doesn’t see through my white lie. The truth is, I’d rather be sprawled out on the couch, eating my feelings.
“Thank you for being there for me today. I couldn’t have gotten through the past few days without you. It makes me wonder if my mom made us co-executors because she knew I’d need you,” Jake says, staring deeply into my eyes.
“I feel the same. You’ve been a huge support to me.” I close the distance between us and embrace him with a tight squeeze. “Plus, you know how much our moms love to meddle. I’m ninety-nine percent convinced your mom is effectively meddling in our lives even after her death.”
Jake chuckles and lays his head against my shoulder.
His breath on my neck sends goosebumps flitting across my body.
I inhale sharply, questioning why my body reacts so differently to him now than it did when we were kids.
We’ve hugged thousands of times over the years. None of them felt like this, though.
I take a step back, breaking our embrace as I look into his eyes, trying to understand what’s going on between us.
Is my body trying to warn me about him? Attempting to protect me from getting my heart broken when he leaves?
That’s the only logical explanation for the weird sensations that occur when we’re close. It can’t possibly be anything else.
Jake’s mouth starts to open, like he’s about to say something, when the doorbell rings, snapping us out of whatever trance we’re in. He swallows before stepping out of the room to greet our guests.
I brace my hands against the counter and look out the kitchen window, forcing myself to put on a happy face and play the gracious hostess when I want nothing more than to curl up on the couch. Clearly, the exhaustion and stress of the past week are getting to me.
“Hey, the gang’s all here!” Dylan exclaims, walking into the kitchen, the rest of the group trailing him.
Out of the six of us, Dylan has changed the most. In high school, he was tall and lanky, the picture-perfect definition of a beanpole.
Now, he’s filled out in all the right places, packing muscles where there used to be none.
It doesn’t hurt that he’s finally stopped getting the ridiculous buzzcut he rocked growing up because it “saved him time in the shower.” His tapered fade accentuates the shape of his face, allowing your eye to focus on his chiseled jaw.
It’s no wonder things between him and Hannah went from non-existent to hot and steamy over the past few years.
Dylan harbored a deep crush on Hannah since middle school, but she never saw him as anything more than a friend until a few years ago.
Now they’re inseparable and getting married in a few weeks.
“So…what’s the game plan? Are we shooting the shit, drinking, eating, playing a game? Some combination?” Dylan asks, his gaze bouncing between each of us standing.
Correction: Dylan may have physically changed, but his life-of-the-party attitude hasn’t
“Chill, Dylan. We’re just going to catch up,” Jake replies, squeezing Dylan’s shoulder as he walks past and stands next to me. “Kate and I just wanted to get us all together for the evening. Reminiscence about old times. Find out what everyone’s up to.”
Everyone around the room nods, grabs a drink and a plate of food, and takes a seat.
“Who wants to talk about their life first?” Brandon glances around the table, pointing his beer at each of us like it’s some weird version of spin the bottle, where if he lands on you, then you have to start talking.
“I’m sure we all know what Jake’s been up to, so we can probably skip him,” Brandon teases, leaning back in his chair and popping a couple of pretzels in his mouth.
I choke on my beer, not expecting Brandon to call Jake out on his life choices so quickly.
“How about we start with Kate? I’m sure she has plenty to share given her impressive career and upcoming wedding,” Jake suggests, taking a swig of his beer and glancing in my direction, pushing the spotlight away from him.
I nod and launch into an update on everything that’s happening in my life.
Although I’ve been back to Southmount numerous times since graduating from high school, it’s never been for long, and I’ve typically avoided spending time with our former friends.
It always felt odd, being around them without Jake.
Like, perhaps they wouldn’t have hung out with me if we weren’t a package deal.
They’ve never given me any reason to believe that, yet it’s been one of my fears, causing me to turn down invitations until they ultimately stopped reaching out.
In some ways, I’m not much better than Jake because I essentially cut them out of my life, too.
The only difference is I would at least respond to them and occasionally check in on their lives.
I only avoided spending time with them in person.
The next few hours are filled with food, drinks, laughter, and way too many stories about Jake and Dylan’s crazy antics in high school.
Everyone seems to be living their best lives.
Brandon is married to a wonderful woman he met through online dating, and they have two kids together.
Shawn married one of our other high school classmates a few years ago, and they’re expecting their first child.
Dylan and Hannah are getting married in a few weeks, insisting I attend their wedding and hoping they’ll get to meet Brian as my plus one.
They’ve even begged Jake to come, assuming he’s still in town.
He gave them a vague answer about trying to make it, but not committing to anything.
Everyone is settling down, except Jake. He’s the only one of us without any romantic entanglements, perfectly content without a significant other, or at least not a serious one.
It’s almost midnight when Brandon, Dylan, Hannah, and Shawn say their goodbyes, making us promise to find time to hang out again before we leave town. The pain was forgotten for a few hours, but it seems to have come roaring back as the door closes and we’re alone again.
“You’re drunk,” I whisper as if we’re back in high school and I’m afraid my mom could hear us. I plop myself on the couch, grabbing a blanket to throw over my legs. Doesn’t matter the time of year or temperature, I always want a cozy blanket.
“Yep. Needed to dull the pain,” he says, dragging a hand down his face before sinking into the couch next to me.
“Talk to me. I know you’re keeping everything bottled up. It’s not healthy.” I turn toward him, tucking my legs underneath.
“It doesn’t matter how I feel. I can’t do anything about the past.” He looks at me for a second before taking a long swig of beer.
“I’m not sure if more alcohol is the wisest choice.”
“Of course you wouldn’t. Your life is practically perfect. You don’t get what I’m going through.”
“Try me.”
“Do you want to know about the shitstorm that is my life? About how much I hate myself for everything that’s happened?” He gazes directly at me with such pain in his eyes that I lose my breath.
“Yes. I want to know all of it.”
“I don’t know where to begin.” He takes another swig before putting the bottle on the coffee table and leaning into the couch with a deep sigh.
“Start at the beginning. How are you feeling?”
“Life fucking sucks. I’ve lost both my parents. I don’t have any siblings. You’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to one,” he says, tension bracketing his mouth. “And we haven’t talked or seen each other in forever.”
“That’s—”
“All my fault. You don’t have to tell me. Everything is my fucking fault.” He hangs his head in his hands.
“What happened to your mom isn’t your fault. You couldn’t have prevented the accident.”
“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about everything else.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’ve been so focused on my career that I haven’t been home in years. I barely spoke to my mom. You and I lost touch forever ago, and I did nothing about it. Now I’m wondering if the career I chased was worth it.”
“You’re too hard on yourself. People change. I’m not the same person I was in high school, and neither are you. No one is, or at least they shouldn't be,” I say, grabbing his hand. “You did the best you could. Your mom knew how much you loved her.”
“But was it enough?” He sighs loudly. “All of our friends from have settled down. You’re getting married to Brian, who is practically a saint, according to your mom.
She might be more in love with him than you are.
” He chuckles and takes another drink. “Meanwhile, my longest relationship lasted a couple of months, and that timeline is generous.”
“Everyone moves at their own speed. It took me a long time to find Brian. Perhaps you’ll have better luck if you date someone closer to your age.”
He laughs and looks at me. “You may not be wrong. But the heart wants what the heart wants.”
“I don’t think it’s your heart that is making those decisions,” I tease.
He lightly punches me on the arm. “You’re not wrong. It’s always had a mind of its own.”
“Tell me about it. I remember the hearts you broke growing up. They’d all come to me, begging to make you give them a second chance.”
“Perhaps it’s time for a change. Losing my mom is making me question everything. I don’t want to be alone forever,” Jake whispers, resting his head on my shoulder.