Chapter 15 #2
I pushed past them, past the weight of my mother’s words, past my brother's fury, past the way Jamie wouldn’t even look at me, and past Kayla’s confusion. “Let’s just go,” I said.
The drive to the party was quiet. A nervous, suffocating void of sound, the kind of silence that felt like the last ten minutes of a horror movie, the sensation of holding your breath until the suspense was over.
Kayla sat in the passenger seat, legs crossed, her fingers anxiously trying to break the noiselessness with blaring music, flicking through the radio stations as if she could erase the tension with the right song.
Lucas drove, his grip on the wheel tight, his jaw clenched. He was still pissed at me. Rightfully so. I was an ass, I’m aware.
And Jamie—Jamie was next to me, elbow resting on the door, fingers tapping against his knee. He hadn’t looked at me since we left the house.
I stared straight ahead, trying to ignore the way my skin still burned with an odd mix of anger, regret, and humiliation.
He heard everything.
My mother’s words, the comparison, the finality in her voice.
I stole a glance at him from the corner of my eye, but he was looking out the window, his face unreadable.
Lucas's voice cut through the music's obnoxiously loud bass. “You didn’t have to yell at Monica like that.”
I stiffened, fingernails curling into the fabric of my jeans. “I didn’t yell.”
He let out a sharp laugh. “Right. Sure.”
I glared at him in the review mirror. “I was just—”
“Just what?” He turned slightly, just enough to shoot me a look. “Being a spoiled brat and acting as if you know everything?”
My stomach twisted. I opened my mouth, ready to fire back, but Kayla cut in.
“Chill, Lucas.” She shot him a warning look. “Just because Alex was being a bitch doesn’t mean you can be a dick.”
Lucas turned his attention back to the road. “Whatever.”
I glanced at Jamie again, but he was still staring out at the dark road and passing trees.
I hated this. Hated the tension. Hated the way my mother’s voice kept looping in my head.
Hated the fact that Jamie wouldn’t even acknowledge me.
So, I pushed him.
“You know, you don’t have to ignore me,” I said, turning toward him.
For the first time since we got in the car, he looked at me: just a flicker, just a second. But I caught it.
“I’m not ignoring you,” he said.
Yes, you are! I wanted to scream. “Fine.”
Kayla shifted in her seat, tossing me a look that I knew meant fix this.
But how could I?
The night was already ruined before it even began.
The bonfire crackled, sparks flying up into the dark sky.
The lake stretched out beyond it, calm and still.
People milled around, talking, laughing, moving in and out of the fire’s glow.
The scent of burning wood mixed with the salt from the lake, and somewhere in the distance, someone had a speaker blasting music.
I should have been having fun, laughing with Kayla, who was chatting with a girl from our English class.
Instead, I found myself sitting on a half-rotted log, gazing at the flames as if they held the answers to all my mistakes.
It felt as if I didn’t look up, I might disappear.
Honestly, it seemed like my plan was working, since Jamie was pretending I didn’t exist.
Across the fire, he stood with Lucas, a beer can dangling from his fingers. He wasn’t drinking it; he was holding it, rolling the can between his palms. His expression was unreadable, as always. His black hair swooped slightly over his eyes as he stared into the drink.
“Are you gonna sit here and pout all night?” Kayla dropped onto the log beside me, nudging my knee with hers.
“I’m not pouting,” I muttered.
“Uh-huh.” She tilted her head, studying me, and then turned her gaze to where Jamie stood. “God, you two are exhausting.”
I frowned at her. “We are not.” Now I was pouting.
“You are,” she said, taking a sip from a plastic cup. “The whole brooding, longing stares, not admitting you want each other—it’s getting tragic.”
I rolled my eyes. “Well, tragic sounds about right.”
Kayla groaned. “You make things so hard for yourself.”
Truth. But why? Why did I always find myself in disasters of my own making? Before I could unload my cringeworthy feelings on Kayla about my daddy issues and abandonment problems for a much-needed best friend therapy session, Lucas walked up. Unfortunately, he wasn’t alone.
“Wow,” he said, dropping onto the log beside me, Jamie lurking behind. “You look almost as bad as I feel.”
I sighed. “Did you come over here just to insult me?”
“No,” he said, stretching his legs out, eyes flicking between me and Kayla. “I came to see if you’d stopped being dramatic yet.”
I shoved him. “Hey, if you're trying to make amends, you're not doing so hot.”
Lucas grinned, but then his expression shifted more serious. “I’m sorry. It was wrong of me to get in the middle.”
“No, actually, it wasn’t,” I confessed. “I was the one in the wrong. Your dad has always been there for me.” A trembling breath filled my lungs. “But to admit that means I would also have to acknowledge that my dad didn’t care to be there, which stings more than I thought it would.”
My brother took my hand. “Hey, his decisions don’t have anything to do with you and everything to do with himself. Don’t take on his baggage. Let him carry it.”
“Thanks,” I whispered back.
Kayla darted behind Lucas and me, then scooped all four of us—even Jamie—into a massive hug, pulling Jamie down to the ground in the process. “Aww, you guys, you're going to make me cry! I love it when you two are sappy!”
She was squishing my shoulder into Lucas's. “Well, then I'm about to fill your quota of sap.” I poked my brother's knee. “Wasn't there something you wanted to ask Kayla Lucas?”
Two weeks ago, I overheard Lucas practicing how to ask Kayla to the dance in the bathroom mirror. Two whole weeks had passed, and he had chickened out at every opportunity, so I figured he needed me to throw him into the deep end of this prom proposal.
He glared at me: a sprinkle of frustration, a pinch of anger, and a dash of terror swimming in his corneas.
Kayla smiled, utterly oblivious to him. “Sure, Lucas, shoot, what's up?”
His palm tightened around his leg. “Umm. Do you have a date for the prom?” He mumbled
Kayla blinked. “Uh … yeah?” Her voice came out as a question, like she wasn’t sure where this was going.
Lucas's shoulders hunched forward as if he had been kicked in the chest. “Oh, cool. Good for you.”
I frowned, glancing between them. “Wait, what? Who? Why didn't you tell me?”
Kayla stood to her feet. “I didn't think it was a big deal. It's our junior prom; I figured we would all be going with dates.”
Lucas stood up, too, meaning that I also had to abandon the damp log I was sitting on to join them. Lucas, still tense, turned to Jamie. “What about you?”
“What about me?” Jamie asked.
“Are you going to prom with someone?”
“Why? You asking me out?” Jamie teased.
Lucas shrugged him off. “Come on, man, I'm serious. Don't tell me I’m the last dude to get a date.”
Jamie hesitated. It was quick. Barely there, but long enough for my breath to stop.
And in that half-second pause, I knew.
I knew before he even said it.
“Kind of, yeah,” he finally said. “I, uh … I have a date.”
The world around me began to blur. The fire, the voices, the music—everything faded into a white noise.
I could barely make out Lucas’s frustrated, “Damn,” and Kayla’s incredulous, “Seriously?” All I could hear was the rush of blood pulsing in my ears.
Then, in a voice that didn’t sound like my own, I heard myself ask, “With who?”
Jamie's eyes darted away from mine, and his legs shifted uncomfortably from where he stood. “Actually … um, you know Bethany?”
No … No! I was going to kill him if he said what I knew he was going to. “The bitch who butchered my hair? How could I forget?”
Jamie sucked in a breath. “That was a long time ago.”
“Demons can't change their scales,” I snapped back.
“I think you mean tigers can’t change their stripes.”
“Nope.”
Jamie bit the inside of his mouth. “She and Emmett broke up because she caught him making out with the new girl. To get back at him, she asked me to the prom. When I used to hang out with the Donahues, I keyed his car, and he has held a grudge against me ever since. She thought I would be a good way to get revenge.”
My head and heart ached as if my body had fallen from the Empire State Building and landed on silver spikes.
“But if you have a problem with me going with her—”
“Take her.”
Why did I say that?
“Really?”
Stop talking, Alex!
“Yeah. Why not?” I paused, hoping he would stop me from pushing him into the arms of another girl. “Unless there's a reason you don’t want to go with her…?” Here it was, my only attempt at giving him a ‘get out of jail free card.’
He nodded his head as if there was a side conversation chattering in the hollow space between his ears. “… well then you’d be all alone.”
The fuck I would! Screw him! Did he think I was so pathetic that I couldn’t get a date?
“Emmett Thompson asked me out.” My mouth blurted this out before my better judgment could stop me.
It was technically accurate. The previous week, Emmett made a distasteful pass at me, joking about taking my fine ass to the prom.
Disgusting, I know. I smacked him, which only seemed to turn him on more.
It would take some serious groveling, but I was sure that if I explained the situation of Jamie and Bethany being together, he would want just as much retribution as I did.
“Emmett? Bethany’s Emmett?”
“Yup, that would be the one.” I snarked back.
His nostrils flared as he let out a deep sigh, and his eyes narrowed with seething anger. “Wow, you're so jealous of Bethany that you'd go out with Emmett just to spite her?”
Did he just call me jealous?
I clenched my fists, feeling a surge of heat flush my body from my head to my toes. “You know what? You kissed me.” I slowed it down for him. “You. Kissed. Me.”
I must have said that really loud because Lucas and Kayla stopped whatever conversation they were having to watch my next move.
“You’ve kissed me not once. Not twice. But three times.” My tone escalated. “And then you pretend like they never happened!” I pushed his chest with both my hands, setting him three inches back. “Why! Why would you do that!”
Jamie’s eyes went from anger to pleading as he placed his hand on my shoulders,
“Alex—”
I threw his hand off me. “No, Jamie, tell me!” My voice was shaking. “Tell me why I’m good enough to kiss but not to date?” I needed an answer; any answer would be better than this aching uncertainty.
His face was frozen. “I don’t—I don’t know how to answer that.”
Somehow, that answer was worse.
“Wow,” I took a step back. “She was right.” I had no words. Nothing to say except: “You’re just like my dad.” It came out like a whispered confession.
Jamie said nothing for a complete second. It was surprising how long a second could feel. “You're right.”
Police sirens filled the air before I could comprehend what Jamie said.
Panic set the bonfire ablaze. Bodies scrambled, moving in every direction.
Someone threw their drink into the fire, sending embers shooting into the dark sky.
The speaker that had been blasting music moments ago was suddenly silent, replaced by the unmistakable sound of tires crunching over gravel.
I barely had time to process what was happening before Kayla grabbed my wrist.
“Alex, we gotta go. Now.”
But my feet wouldn’t move.
Kayla tugged harder. “Alex!”
Somewhere behind me, Lucas was shouting something, probably trying to round up the group—but my head was still spinning, my heart still raw.
The blue and red lights flashed against the trees, too close, too fast.
That was enough to snap me out of it.
The adrenaline hit my system all at once, sharp and electric, sending me weaving through bodies, through panicked voices, and slamming car doors. I turned on my heel and ran.
“Come on, come on,” Kayla muttered under her breath.
Lucas was ahead of us, yanking open the driver’s side door, with Kayla right behind him, sliding into the passenger seat. They barely made it in before a cop’s voice cut through the chaos: “Nobody move!”
“Go!” Jamie yelled at Lucas. “Drive.”
As they sped off, tires digging up the ground, a blinding flashlight rushed at me and Jamie.
My chest was heaving, and the cold night air was burning my lungs. Jamie cursed under his breath, lifting his hands like he was already surrendering. He turned to look straight at me.
Something passed between us, something sharp, something desperate.
Then, the officer stepped forward, and the moment shattered.
“All right,” he said, voice firm. “The party is over.”
That night, my heart was broken, and my hands were cuffed. Yet, that was just the beginning of the prom madness.