13. Waverly
13
WAVERLY
I curled on my bed with the pillow clutch to my stomach, slightly stunned. What just happened? In my hand, my father rambled on about how proud he was to have a daughter who attended Rippton U.
Guilt tugged at the corner of my heart, but it was only a tiny tug.
Because for the first time I was kind of proud of me, too.
Proud that I hadn't run. That somebody saw me for who I was and understood me as well.
A single tear trickled down my cheek. I brushed it away, absently nodding at whatever Dad said even though he couldn't see my face – thankfully, this time – and returned to clutching at my pillow.
“– just think, one day, a picture of my little girl will be on the cover of–”
I didn't hear the rest of that sentence either, thinking about the cover of a very different article, not the scientific journal that I’d always dreamed of since I was a little girl hoping to win a Nobel prize.
No, this one would be on the cover of a local rockstar’s single. Album cover. Whatever. I didn't even know how to say it properly. Xoan Kennedy. Even saying his name felt like a dream.
Celia had shown me the cover art, squealing and jumping around while I tried to make heads and tails of it all. She’d screenshotted it and had been playing the music all morning long. Kennedy’s lullaby wasn’t going anywhere, and had stayed sticky in the top ten throughout the day.
With a song that beautiful, I didn't doubt that it would be there for a while yet.
Along with my face – and my ass – gracing the cover.
Dad would probably never see it. He listened to country and nothing else. My brother, on the other hand…
I shrugged off the uncomfortable shroud that weighed over my joints. No. This was something I was proud of. It was a piece of me, and I love being part of the art Jax made. The first time I felt loved and protected by someone outside of my family, my home.
The first time I felt like me .
Dad kept talking, and I kept saying yes and nodding even though he still couldn't see me. I got dressed in a pair of short denim overalls and a rainbow-colored t-shirt I had to dig to the back of my drawers to find from where I’d thrown them the last time Celia dragged them out. Back then, I hid them away, too uncomfortable with the thought of exposed skin. But Jax painted me, let the world see me and…nothing happened.
Now, I didn’t want to have to hide anymore. A pair of Vincent’s old motorcycle boots from before he left home almost fit me if I wore two pairs of socks. I signed off with Dad and grabbed my backpack. That was almost too heavy now. I removed a few inches of books and threw it back on, much lighter than before.
When I stepped out of my bedroom Celia stared at me with wide eyes.
“Wow.” Her mouth dropped open. “W-ow. What did he do to you?”
I blinked her. “What do you mean?”
“I did wonder where the real Waverly was under all those clothes and books and those glasses and all the–” She flapped her hands at me. “This. Here you are. And wow .”
I glanced down at myself and saw pale, freckled legs that hadn’t met sunlight for a while, and scuffed motorcycle boots that definitely didn't go with the time-faded denim. I'd probably worn those last when I was sixteen and still fit into them thankfully. The t-shirt was slightly bobbled because I loved it so much but hadn't worn it in awhile either.
I gave it an experiment sniff. “Is spray required?”
Celia spun around on the spot, her face framed with her hands. “Don't move. Do not move. I will be right back.” She disappeared into her room and returned to spritz me with two different sorts of fruity spray and slathered lip gloss on. Fluffy rainbow kitten ears on a headband were her final addition, and I was proclaimed ready to go.
I risked a look in the mirror and smiled. That grin got as Celia squealed and cuddled me. “You are the cutest thing ever.”
“Yeah, I kinda love it.” I grinned back, a little giddy with the change. Panic hadn’t set in, and I wondered if it would the moment I set foot outside my door but instead all I experienced was that my back straightened and I stood a little taller.
She wiggled her shoulders at me. "You know what? Jax is going to as well.”
I stared at her, knowing they’d talked about me, either before or after the itching powder incident, I wasn’t certain, but the roommate/boyfriend protective talk had happened. I also knew he wasn’t her favorite person, though the wall art appeared to have earned him some redemption points.
I bit my lip. “If you say so.” My head tilted down until I stared at my boots.
She tsked at me, pressing a knuckle under my chin. “No way. No. Way.” She lifted my chin with no small dose of defiance. “Right here. This is where the action is, baby. You've arrived and I'm not letting you hide any more. You're beautiful. You are gorgeous. You're stunning in all the ways and I love you to pieces. Do not retreat, Waverly . There is no going back. Is this clear?” she demanded with all the command and respect demanded of a military sergeant at arms.
I managed a smile. “Yes ma'am.”
She smacked my ass. “That's what I like to hear.” Her arm linked through mine. “What's our first class?”
We sauntered through campus – okay, Celia sauntered. My ass had life of its own and intended to wiggle while I kept an eye out for Jax. But I didn't see him anywhere matter how hard I looked. I struggled to concentrate on class while Celia made it her personal vendetta to hush as many of the whispers around us. Which worked for the first half of the day. Kinda. Right up until after lunch when we no longer shared a class.
The contingents of whispers grew with each class like a giant party game until finally my bio lecturer slammed his precious box of chalk down on the table – he always refused to use markers or upgrade to a SmartBoard – and glared at the class.
“Do we need to get this out here, now?” he bellowed over pages of complex molecules “Because if you haven't seen Miss Alloway’s silk covered behind displayed in the courtyard, you can all go and see it right now. Otherwise can we please concentrate on page one hundred and eleven of your texts for the time being, and then you can fill your celebrity needs?”
I tried to slink into my seat a little, my face overheating as snickers filled the room around us, but it didn’t prevent the heads that turned and smirked at me.
Determined not to fail on my first day emerging into the world I pushed my spine a little straighter and, taking a leaf out of Celia’s book, I tossed my hair.
Eyes widened and heads turned back the way they had come.
Holy shit. This stuff actually works.
I had to remember to thank Celia later. Maybe this was how I would survive the next two years at Rippton. All these months I’d spent facing forward the entire time. Maybe I should’ve been doing this earlier.
Letting out a much more relaxed breath, I focused on the text in front of me and managed to finish the lab without another interruption.
My next stop after class to check on my neglected bees. I knelt in the dirt on my knees, uncaring how filthy I got and sent out a message to Jax, leaving my phone open beside me as I checked my hives one at a time taking care not to disturb the occupants or over smoke them.
The colony was happy, buzzing around me as I traced their patterns, understanding a little more of their parts and making connections in their flight. I threw myself into bumblebee hell just to really get myself out of my comfort zone– I mean, why not? – and checked my phone again, but Jax hadn't replied at all.
I frowned, and tried to shuck the negative off, but deep down that hurt. I knew that the reality was that he was probably busy or lost in his art. berating myself as an overbearing stalker, I finished up, heading back to my empty room apartment.
Humming Xoan’s lullaby that I knew would be forever stuck in my head now, I jotted down the rest of my notes and fresh observations from the hives, collecting the extra pages that I didn't need to use from the twins and tossing them into the bin. It was only my own things that I needed to do.
That gave me pause for half a second and I laughed, breaking out of the song stuck on repeat in my head. I had my study done by the time the sun began to set. Placing my pencil carefully on my desk, I stared at my hands, realizing they wouldn't cramp tonight.
For the first time in so long I had nothing to fill my spare hours with. Spare. Hours. What a concept. I was free. I could sleep. I could go out, even had fifteen dollars in my purse that I could use to eat something that wasn’t noodles.
For the first time in months I had no idea what to do with myself. I flipped my phone over, eager to talk to Celia and Jax, all too ready to send another message off.
Busy? I’m not, thanks to you…
No, it didn’t sound right. I erased the words and replaced it with a heart emoji.
Thank you for this morning.
I mulled over that for a little while and then sent the message anyway, and then I spiraled in free fall.
Nothing came back.
So I spiraled some more, tapping my finger on my phone. Getting changed was a no brainer–back into the same silky short set I wore with Jax the night before. Just last night? To quote Celia…wow.
I blew my cheeks up, and flicked through my books after I changed, bored. A new feeling, and one I hated. Being busy meant being productive. This one....
Leaning back on my bed, I pulled up the real version of Xoan Kennedy's Lullaby and flicked through the pictures Celia had taken of the painting and Jax kissing me earlier.
The reel finished with the one of us staring at each other, me with my head tipped back, him looking down at me with hooded eyes in a way that still stole my breath.
Sinking back on my bed I remembered, sliding my hand between my legs beneath the silky shorts Jax painted me wearing.
My breath came shorter with each touch, less illicit and more yearning, needing him. I flipped my phone over with my free hand, sliding my fingers through slicked flesh but he still hasn't replied to my earlier messages.
Groaning, I dropped my head back onto my pillow and ripped an orgasm from my needy flesh like I imagined he would, leaving myself hot and sweating and completely unsatisfied.
I needed Jax. I wanted him.
I wished he’d stayed last night so I could wake up next to him this morning and tell him I’d fallen for the bad boy just like I shouldn’t have.
Instead, I lay there panting, alone, and ached.