Chapter 25
Zoe
Sometimes I wish that I had never stopped writing you notes.
—Zoe
My heart races, and my chest is moving at an alarming rate from breathing so fast. There’s a smile on my face as I straighten up, and then I almost freak out as I see someone just a few steps away.
Jase.
“God, don’t scare me like that!” I shout and take out the earbuds while my heart pounds hard against my ribs.
His gaze is serious, and something in his eyes triggers a frantic fluttering in my stomach. “I’m sorry, I thought you heard me.”
I shake my head. I didn’t hear anything. Just the music. “What are you doing here?”
“Same as you, I guess.” He takes a step toward me, then stops right in front of me and just stares.
“You’ve been watching me,” I say. Maybe, probably, certainly the thought should worry me, but it’s Jase that’s standing here in front of me.
He shrugs, but there’s no apology in his eyes. “I couldn’t look away.”
His words hit me right where it hurts. Right in the heart.
“Why?”
A sound that’s something between incredulous laughter and a frustrated sigh escapes him. “Because you’re you, Zoe.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, and my voice is soft and all at once a little hoarse.
It doesn’t sound like me at all. But he’s so damn close to me and is saying things he shouldn’t, and I want to hear all of it.
Whispered secrets that are even more intense than written secrets on crumpled pieces of paper.
“If I knew that, I’d have one less problem.” His voice resonates with a tone of desperation, and my heart tightens.
“So now I’m a problem for you?” It’s a rhetorical question; I know it’s true. I’m a miserable dance partner, but Jase is making it sound like it’s more than that. And if it’s not that, then what?
Jase shakes his head so firmly that a few strands of hair fall over his forehead. I want to brush them away, to know how they feel between my fingers. I bite my bottom lip, because this is all wrong. I can’t feel this way. Not for Jase, and not at all. I shouldn’t. Am I even allowed to?
But then he stares at my lips, and even though the whole room is dark, I can see his pupils dilate. His eyes look darker, and the fluttering in my stomach turns into something different, warmer, more urgent.
“You cause problems, Pixie, but you’re not a problem yourself. Because you’re you.” He moves a little closer, and all at once I can’t breathe. My throat is getting tight, and my heart is beating way too fast.
His fingertips graze my hand, and an electrifying tingling runs up my arm to my chest, a warm flicker that becomes too strong, too fast.
Why do you want me to kiss you, Pixie?
Because you’re you, and I’m me. And I believe that together, we can be everything.
All at once, I can hear our voices, what we said over a year ago. The questions and secrets, the goose bumps all over my body. And then the kiss. A single, short kiss that was simultaneously everything and nothing. Too much and too little.
“I can’t stop thinking about that kiss.”
At first, I think it’s me who’s spoken, because the memory of Jase’s lips on mine feels very real right now.
But it’s his voice, huskier than it was before, and I grow warm as his fingers interlace with mine, all by themselves.
He tugs gently at my hand, almost carefully, and I let it happen.
There’s no way I could stop myself even if I wanted to. And I don’t want to. Definitely not.
“Why not?” I ask, waiting for him to repeat my words from back then.
“Because I want to do it again,” he says softly instead. This answer is almost better, because I want him to do it again too.
I’ve wanted it from the first time that we stood in front of the mirror together and he ran his hands over my arms and shoulders. I’ve wanted it since he asked me the first time how it felt to be touched by him, and my answer was far too simple.
“Then do it.” The words slip out before I can stop them. Before I realize that it’s a terrible idea, because I don’t know if my body will behave or if I’ll panic. Jase is the first and only boy I’ve ever kissed, but maybe that’s why it’s exactly the right thing to do. Maybe I just need to be brave.
His hand tightens a little on mine. He looks like he’s about to shake his head, and he looks so torn, which is exactly how I feel. He looks into my eyes and then at my mouth, and then I’m the one who decides. I close the space between us and put my lips on his.
In the first second, he doesn’t react, and I panic.
It’s a different kind of panic, not as bad, but a panic that maybe I shouldn’t have done it at all.
He said he wanted to, but maybe he didn’t really mean it, and— My thoughts stop in their tracks when he lets go of my hand and strokes my face.
His skin is soft and warm, like his lips.
He kisses me gently and carefully. But that’s not what I want. I want all of him.
Molten heat surges through me. I open my lips, and Jase accepts the invitation without hesitating. He groans a little as our tongues touch, and a tremor runs through his body. Then all at once, nothing is gentle or careful anymore.
It’s just us, his lips on mine, his tongue in my mouth, his hands on my face, my neck, my fingers in his hair.
Soft moans. Jase pulls me closer, and I press myself against him, soaking up his warmth, the kiss, his breath.
His erection presses against my stomach, and it’s all too much and nowhere near enough.
My pulse is racing. I can feel it in my whole body—my fingertips, my stomach, even my toes and between my legs. It throbs and throbs. There’s nothing but pure desire, and I feel like crying because I didn’t know it was still possible for me to feel this way.
But it is, and I want more.
As I lean against him, Jase abruptly backs away. His face has become an expressionless mask, and all at once, I’m freezing cold.
“Jase—” I say, but he turns on his heel without a word and leaves me standing there.
* * *
I’m confused when I finally crawl into my bed. Confused, tired, and hurt. Even if I would never admit it. I’m hurt because he just left. He made me feel things that I haven’t felt for far too long. And then he just stopped. It feels like he’s taken something away from me.
Once more, I can’t fall asleep, even though it’s almost four AM.
I desperately need to sleep, but I can’t.
Despite Jase’s rejection, I can’t stop thinking about the kiss, and when I think about the kiss, my whole body starts to tingle.
I can feel his lips on mine again. I can feel him moaning in my mouth . . .
My eyelids flutter shut.
His body pressed against mine, his hardness against my stomach.
His hands on my skin. I heat up, my heart starts to race, and my fingers take off on their own, wandering under my pajama shorts and into my underwear.
I don’t think about what I’m doing. I just do it, let it happen, because I want to know if I can.
If it still works. I want to be able to feel my body again. I want my control back.
I imagine that they’re his hands, despite everything. Because it can only be his fingers touching me. I sigh softly as I realize how wet I am.
His fingers, my fingers. Everything throbs, pushes, wants more, and then .
. . everything inside me tenses up. I go cold, and my body fights me.
I can’t hold on to the feeling, and the ghost of his lips disappears.
Tears fill my eyes because I’m broken and nothing, absolutely nothing, works the way it should.
Because Jase wants to kiss me, but he doesn’t want me, and I don’t even know if I want him at all.
But of course I’m lying to myself again.
I pull the covers up over my head and cry until I eventually fall asleep.
Before
Zoe
One year earlier
June 25, 10:32 PM
Jase’s lips are indescribably soft. He moans, a soft, barely audible sound, and my heart staggers out of rhythm. I instinctively nestle against him, his body presses against mine, and we fit perfectly. It’s a slow, gentle kiss, new but somehow familiar.
I never want this to stop.
The thought pops into my head so unexpectedly that I lose my balance for a second. Jase catches me and lets me go, and I see a mixture of hope and pain in his eyes. I want to ask him what’s wrong, but as soon as I open my mouth to speak, he kisses me again, and all thinking stops.
“What the hell?” A familiar voice startles us, and we jump apart. Caleb is a few feet away, staring at us in shock. It takes me a few seconds to recognize the anger in his eyes, and my stomach tightens.
Shit, shit, shit!
I should have told him about Jase, about the notes, and everything else.
“Caleb—” Jase says, but my brother silences him with a cutting gesture.
“My little sister? Are you serious?” His voice rings with annoyance, and I want to explain, but there’s nothing I can say.
Caleb turns away and stomps toward the house. I can’t help it; I have to follow him.
Jase grabs my wrist, stopping me. When I look into his eyes this time, all the hope has disappeared, and there’s nothing but fear there.
“I have to talk to him!” I say, trying to get away from him. His grasp tightens almost imperceptibly before he finally lets me go and nods.
“Let me . . .” His voice breaks, and he clears his throat, and my heart breaks a little for him. “Let me talk to him.”
I shake my head. “No, he wouldn’t listen to you. Trust me.”
Jase hesitates and then gives in. “Do you want to meet later in the treehouse?”
I nod quickly and run after my brother. I want to explain everything so he understands what’s going on between me and Jase.
As I walk into the house to look for Caleb, the music blares in my ears. But I don’t see him anywhere. I find Reed and Tristan playing beer pong at the dining room table.
“Have you seen Caleb?” I ask.
Tristan shakes his head, but Reed grins at me. “He just went upstairs. I think he was looking for the bathroom.”
“Thanks!” I blow him a kiss and push my way through the crowd to the stairs and past a couple who are making out on the bottom steps.
Most of the doors are locked, but I know exactly which bathroom Caleb is in, and I’m pretty sure he didn’t go in there to use the toilet.
It’s the last door on the left, the guest suite where I always sleep when I spend the night at Charlotte’s.
When I open the door, Caleb is there on the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands buried in his dark hair.
He looks up when he hears me, and I gasp in surprise as I realize that my brother is crying.
“Caleb? What—” the rest of the question sticks in my throat.
“I’m such an idiot,” he says desperately, wiping the tears off his face.
“Why? What’s wrong?” I close the door behind me and walk over to him. An uneasy feeling hits my stomach.
“What’s going on with you and Jase?” His voice breaks as he says Jase’s name, and the uneasy feeling turns into a dark foreboding.
No, no, please not this.
“I . . . We . . .” I fall silent, and he laughs. It sounds infinitely sad.
“Are you in love with him?”
There’s no point in denying it. I can’t lie to Caleb. “Yes. But you don’t have to worry. Honestly. This is . . . different. You—”
“I’m not worried,” he says, interrupting me. And now angry tears pour down his face again, and I understand what he wants to tell me but can’t say.
“So you are too,” I whisper. This has to be a bad joke. There’s no way Caleb and I could have both fallen in love with the same boy. With his best friend.
Caleb nods, and my heart breaks.
He already told me weeks ago that he’s gay, and I know he only told Mom and Dad about it a few days ago. I also know he hasn’t come out to Jase and his other friends yet. He says he wants to wait because high school sucks and teenagers can be cruel.
But he didn’t tell me that he was in love, and I didn’t ask because I was sure that he would tell me if he was. I didn’t want to push him.
I don’t care who he falls in love with as long as it’s someone who treats him well and makes him happy.
Now I wish I’d asked him.
“Shit, I’m sorry, Zoe. I should just shut up. Forget what I said—I’m drunk!” he blurts out when I don’t answer. My mind has gone completely blank. Ten minutes ago, everything was fine. Ten minutes ago, I was the only one who was in love with Jase. I kissed him. He kissed me. It was perfect.
And now . . . how could so much go wrong so fast?
Caleb covers his face with his hands again. “How could I be so stupid? I knew that he wasn’t into me. I knew it. Why couldn’t I just keep my mouth shut? Why did I have to fall in love with him?” His shoulders begin to shake, and he’s crying again. My heart breaks along with his, a little bit more.
“I—” I stop. Words start to form in my mind, but I can’t say them.
Because it’s much too easy to fall in love with Jase. I want to be with him. I want to do everything with him.
But everything just got a lot more complicated. Caleb is in love with Jase, and clearly it’s not just a crush. This is the kind of love that really hurts when it’s not returned.
I’m still at a loss for words, and there’s nothing I can say that would make him feel any better.
Instead, I put my arms around my brother and let him cry.
I cry with him because everything sucks, and I hate it.
I hate that he’s hurting, I hate that he’s sad, and I hate that I would hurt him even more if I kissed Jase again. If we were really a couple.
I never thought Caleb and I would break each other’s hearts. But here we are, both crying over the same boy. At some point, after we’ve calmed down enough that it at least doesn’t hurt to breathe anymore, we leave the guest room and return to the party. Our eyes are red from crying.
My friends and Caleb’s are waiting for us in the kitchen, looking worried. They only have to look at our tearstained faces to know that something has gone seriously wrong.
Tristan hands Caleb a drink, and Amber gives one to me.
We look each other in the eyes, clink our glasses, and swallow them down.
I ignore the fact that Jase is waiting for me in the treehouse and will be worried when I don’t show up.
I know I should talk to him, but I have no idea what I’d say.
I can’t be with him without hurting Caleb.
Caleb is my brother and my best friend. I can’t be so egotistical.
That’s the last clear memory I have of the evening. Then . . . everything falls apart.
My life. My body. All that’s left of my heart.
Everything that makes me who I am.