Chasing Wild (Wild Bluffs #4)

Chapter 1

Chapter one

Izzy

High School

There is nothing worse than human anatomy. The class that is. Not that I’m particularly fond of the other kind either.

“If you’re mature enough to have sex, then you’re mature enough to talk about sexual reproduction in this class,” Mr. DeMarco says from the back of the classroom as the video in front of us shows a live-action shot of sperm racing toward their goal.

I want to ask him if I can be excused if I’m not, in fact, having sex, but I decide to let that one go. This has to be one of the top ten worst days of Mr. DeMarco’s year, and, forcing me to watch a video about erections and ejaculation aside, I actually like the guy.

Instead, I turn my attention to the screen, the sad tale of the sperm and their unfulfilling quest for glory still playing.

Poor guys. I scribble in my notebook before leaning to the side so Jaxon can read it.

When I don’t hear his telltale chuckle, I peek over my shoulder to find empty space behind me.

Right. Jaxon isn’t here yet.

Which is really unfortunate for him. The donut I got him for his birthday is not going to survive in my backpack much longer. We both know I’ll be hungry by the third period and will have no choice but to eat the tasty carbs in my bag—even if it’s supposed to be for his birthday.

Maybe I’ll give him my notes from this video as a gift instead.

Chuckling internally at the idea, I grab my pen, turning my notes into a script of what I imagine the sperm are saying to each other as they race toward their goal.

“Do you know where Jaxon is?” I ask Tiana as we walk out of class thirty-five minutes later.

Tugging her backpack strap over her shoulder, she shrugs. “No idea.”

I hum, slipping my phone out of my pocket and shooting Jaxon a quick text as I head to my locker to grab my Spanish book.

Me

Where are you? If you’re not here by history class, I’m eating the birthday present I got you.

I stare at my phone for a few seconds, but when no reply comes through, I flip it shut and stick it in the front pocket of my backpack.

The day passes in a slow slog. Turns out, the schedule Jax and I spent hours on to make sure our senior year is fantastic is only perfect when we’re both here. I should fake being sick tomorrow just to make him suffer like I am, but unfortunately, I have volleyball practice I can’t miss.

As the final bell rings, I pull out my cell phone again, annoyed at the same blank screen still haunting me.

Me

Hello? Are you dead?

I need a better plan.

“Hey, Becca, can you do me a favor?” I ask my friend as she walks by me in the hall.

“Sure. What’s up?”

“Can you message me? I think my phone might not be getting texts.”

“Yeah.” She flips open her navy-blue phone and presses a few buttons. “There you go.”

My phone lets out a buzz as her message comes through.

“Huh. Guess it’s not me, then,” I say, throwing my bag over my shoulder and following her into the locker room. “Wonder what’s going on with Jaxon.”

“You’d be the one to know,” she says.

“I know! That’s what makes it so odd. Last time he was sick, he texted me over a hundred times. My parents were pissed when my phone bill came in that month. Luckily, we’re finally on an unlimited text plan.”

“Maybe it’s a stomach bug, and he doesn’t want to involve you in his grossness,” Becca offers as she shimmies into a pair of spandex shorts.

“If only. Last time he gave me play-by-plays from the point of view of his burning butthole,” I say, quickly changing into my workout clothes as well.

Her face tightens in disgust. “Gross.”

“You’re telling me.”

“Next time someone asks me if you two really aren’t dating, I’m going to tell them this story,” Becca says as we walk into the gym. “No one will think there is anything romantic going on after hearing that.”

Rolling my eyes, I let out a sigh. “I have about a thousand similar stories. Unfortunately, people see a guy and a girl hanging out, and all they can think is: dating. It’s pretty sad, actually.”

Becca raises her hands defensively. “I know there isn’t anything going on between you two…but are you sure there isn’t something going on? You just have…chemistry or something.”

As I do not, ever, think about that one time my sophomore year I had a bit of a crush on him—truly just a tiny one—I say instead, “Yeah, the kind of chemistry you get from spending your entire life with someone—best friend chemistry.”

“Hey!” Becca bumps into me playfully as we grab volleyballs from the basket and start warming up. “I thought I was your best friend.”

“I mean, we’re good friends, but are we share-fiery-anus-stories kind of friends?”

She considers it. “I did catch your vomit that one time you threw up in my mom’s car on the way back from Denver.”

“True. We shall just have to accept that I’m cool enough to need two best friends,” I say, giving her a sassy wink.

She spikes the ball at my face, and I’m laughing so hard, I barely get my hands up in time to volley it back.

***

“Hi, Mrs. Macky,” I say, as I walk into the school office at the start of lunch the next day. “Do you know where Jaxon is?”

“Sorry, Isabel,” the secretary replies, tilting her head so she can see me around the computer. “You know I can’t tell you that.”

“But there isn’t anything wrong with him, right?” I ask, my voice pitching higher than I’d like. “It’s just that he hasn’t texted me back in over a day now.”

I’m starting to really worry about him. And he’s supposed to be driving me to my interview tomorrow. Not that I can’t get there without him. I just want his company—he helps me calm down rather than stressing me out.

I know it’s ridiculous, but the only reasons I can think of that he wouldn’t text me back are bad reasons. Really bad reasons.

“You kids and your phones,” she says, shaking her head. “Did you try calling him?”

“Yes.”

Why do all adults act like anyone under the age of twenty-five doesn’t understand how phones work?

“He didn’t answer.”

“Ah,” she replies.

I can tell I’m losing Mrs. Macky here. Clearly, whatever she’s working on is more important than a student who may or may not be missing. Or violently ill. Or dead.

“His phone wasn’t dead, though. It rang and rang and rang before going to voicemail.” I bite the cuticle on my right thumb. “You don’t think he’s dead, do you?”

Mrs. Macky lets out a snort. “No. I don’t think he’s dead. Maybe try calling his house phone instead of his cell phone. I’m sure his father will answer. You do have his home phone number, don’t you?”

Jeez. Of course I do. I memorized it before I knew my own. To be fair to five-year-old me, though, why would I need to call my own house? I needed to call my friend.

“Yeah. I do.” I turn to walk away, but am stopped by a sudden thought. “Would you’ve given me his home number if I didn’t have it?”

“Most certainly not,” she says, but she sends a wink after it. “That information is confidential.”

Huh. Maybe she’s more invested in this conversation than I thought. I offer her a smile before hurrying from the office with a wave, heading outside to call the Reid household.

“Hi, John,” I say after a gruff voice picks up. “Is Jaxon available?”

“No.”

I pause, waiting for additional information, but apparently that’s all I’m going to get.

Jax’s dad has always been a man of few words, though my mom told me once that he was a lot more fun before Jaxon’s mom’s lupus flared up.

As we were only four at the time his mom’s heart finally gave out from the related complications, I’ve only known John as a grumpy old man.

I did, however, expect more than just a single-word answer since he’s usually a lot nicer to me than he is to Jaxon.

“Oh, well, do you think he could call me when he becomes available?”

A heavy sigh comes down the line, and my stomach starts to twist. I knew something was wrong. I just knew it. Now he’s going to tell me they found him lying in a ditch or that he’s—

“He left, Izzy. Though it doesn’t surprise me that he was too self-centered to have the courtesy to tell you.”

That knot that was forming in my stomach? Yeah, it just dropped all the way to the ground. “What do you mean?”

“He packed a bag and his guitar and left town.”

That can’t be right. He wouldn’t do that. Or he would do that, but he wouldn’t do it without telling me. Why wouldn’t he tell me?

“Why?” Emotion threatens to close my throat as tears flow into my eyes.

“You know how he is. Impulsive and selfish.”

I just stand in shocked silence. I don’t know that about him.

“I don’t know what else to tell you, Isabel. I don’t think he’s coming back,” John says.

“Oh. Okay,” I whisper, even though that’s not the Jaxon I know. “Did something happen, or…” I trail off, not sure how to ask Jaxon’s dad if they’d had another fight.

“He’ll come home once he realizes he can’t make it as a musician,” he says, his voice growing gruff.

I want to tell him that if anyone can make it as a musician, it’s Jaxon. He has the drive, and there’s no one in the world with a voice like Jaxon Reid. But my head just can’t wrap itself around the fact that Jaxon left without saying goodbye.

“Okay, well…thanks,” I say before hanging up, my whole body numb.

Not sure what to do, I pull up Jaxon’s contact and hit the green button to call him. I let it ring until his voicemail picks up.

“Are you really gone, Jax?” I ask, the tears dripping down my face now. “Why would you leave without saying goodbye? And in the middle of the school year? I just… You tell me everything. Literally everything. Why didn’t you tell me?”

I end the call, wiping my cheek before sending him a text.

Me

Please call me. I just want to make sure you’re okay.

But it was more than that. I needed to know why—how—he could leave me like that. I needed him to know that somewhere inside me, my heart was breaking.

***

One day later.

Me

Please, Jax. Please call me back. Listen to my voicemails. I don’t understand why you won’t talk to me.

I would’ve supported you.

Okay, we both know that’s a lie. I would’ve said you were dumb for even considering leaving before graduation. You have eight months left, and you could’ve at least had a diploma to fall back on.

But I would’ve helped you come up with a better plan. One that ends in you being a famous musician like you’ve always dreamed of.

I miss you.

***

One month later.

Me

The football team sucks without you here to play wide receiver.

I stopped by to see your dad. He admitted you guys got in a big fight before you left. I wish you’d told me.

At least I know you’re alive. Your debit card is still active, so…yay?

***

One month and one day later.

Me

Are you serious right now?! Why would you close your bank account? That was the only way I knew you were okay.

You’re such an asshole.

Me

But I still want to talk to you. Please text me back.

***

Six months later.

Jax,

I’m sending you this letter to your new record label (WHAT?

! honestly, so cool) with the hope that it’ll make its way to you, since you apparently had the phone company cancel your line.

If you’re wondering how I found out about your label, well, it took some sleuthing on my part, but I’ve become very knowledgeable about the Nashville music scene the last few months and saw the announcement.

I’m thinking about becoming a music agent just so I have a use for the knowledge I’ve gained.

Okay. You got me. In typical Wild Bluffs fashion, Janice’s cousin’s best friend’s aunt was in Nashville and thought she recognized you, so I did some searching of the interwebs.

Going by Jaxon Steele is a nice touch. Really twists the knife in my back that you’re not responding to a single one of my millions of texts and voicemails.

It really hurt.

I won’t reach out again unless I hear from you. I can take a hint.

But at least now I know you’re not dead on the side of the road somewhere.

-Iz

P.S. I’m so happy you’re living your dreams.