Chapter 10 #3
“What did you give her?” I asked as we stepped inside the ballroom two minutes later. Most guests were congregated on the dance floor next to where a live band was performing.
“Just a little something to help pay for the honeymoon,” JJ answered as he scanned the room, presumably searching for food. “I planned on leaving it at the gift table, but since the bride was right there—Oh, look! There’s a cupcake tower.”
“You brought a gift?”
“It was a check, but yeah,” he said, making a beeline for what looked like a dessert buffet. “It’s basic wedding etiquette.”
“But we weren’t invited,” I said, trailing after him.
“That’s no reason to be rude,” he replied as we stopped in front of a long table covered in treats.
Besides the cupcakes, there were trays of cookies, brownie pops, a rainbow of macarons, chocolate-covered strawberries, and even a soft-serve ice cream machine.
“I think I’ve died and gone to sugar heaven. ”
Smiling, I watched as JJ piled one of everything onto a plate. “Well, I’m pretty sure you made her day.”
“Good. That’s my favorite part of the job.” He stuffed an entire snickerdoodle into his mouth and let out a moan. “Oh my God,” he said, spraying crumbs. “This is amazing. You want one?”
I shook my head, then asked, “More than the music?”
JJ swallowed and nodded. “The whole point of making music is to connect with other people, which is exactly what I just did. Knowing a stranger appreciates something I helped create? That’s humbling.”
Okay, wow. Stella had some major explaining to do. For starters, why hadn’t she mentioned how sweet JJ could be? This was exactly why the Heartbreakers were so successful. The boys went out of their way to interact with fans and genuinely cared about us regardless of their fame.
“I think I’m in love,” I teased, poking him in the ribs.
“Glad you’ve finally admitted it.” Plate full, JJ placed his free hand on the small of my back and guided me toward the nearest vacant table. “I hope you know that when we get married, there will be a zero balloon arch policy.”
“Oh, really?” I deadpanned. “And what crime have ballon arches committed against you that you feel so strongly?”
“They’re tacky. Dessert buffets on the other hand? I need one of those.”
I laughed as the band transitioned into another song, and it took me less than a second to recognize the opening notes of “Cupid Shuffle.” Everyone started lining up on the dance floor, and I caught a glimpse of Drew and Maisie among the crowd.
“Weddings are fun, but I don’t think I’ll ever get married.” The words slipped out before I could stop them, and I winced. Those were the kinds of thoughts I usually kept to myself.
“Why not?”
“Oh, well…” I trailed off, already wishing I hadn’t opened my mouth.
Most people got uncomfortable when I talked about death so I’d gotten good at editing myself, but JJ’s unfettered, devil-may-care approach to life was clearly rubbing off on me.
“Not to be a pessimist, but I doubt I’ll be around long enough to make it down the aisle. ”
JJ jerked and nearly dropped his plate. “Jesus, Cara. Why are you so convinced you’re going to die?”
“Hmm, let’s think,” I said, not bothering to check my sarcasm. “Maybe it’s the childhood cancer?”
“But you beat it.” An emotion that looked a lot like worry flickered in his eyes. “You’re in remission.”
I shrugged. “For now.”
“Ah, now I see why she’s so upset.”
“Who are you talking about?”
“Your sister,” JJ said, pulling out a chair for me before taking a spot at my side.
“Back in January, Stella wouldn’t stop talking about the scholarships she’d been looking into for you.
Apparently you spat the efforts back in her face?
” He glanced at me, expression serious but not unkind.
“All she wants is for you to move on—school, work, something to feel normal again. But you’re scared it won’t last, aren’t you? That you’ll get sick again?”
My entire body tensed.
Was it really that hard for Stella to keep her mouth shut? I didn’t need her airing our dirty laundry to the entire band. First Oliver, now JJ. At this rate, I half-expected Xander and Alec to show up next week with a PowerPoint on career planning and personal responsibility.
Saying nothing, I crossed my arms and looked away.
“And if that’s the case,” he said, continuing his conjecture, “why waste whatever time you have left, right?”
“Exactly!” I slapped a hand against the table. “To her, it’s all or nothing. Either I live her version of life or I’m doing it wrong.”
Which only made me dig my heels in further. I was determined to live on my own terms, however long that turned out to be.
“Cara.” When I didn’t respond, he placed a hand on my shoulder. “Cara, look at me.”
“What?” I snapped.
“I agree with you.” His eyes were soft, and I instantly felt guilty.
“You do?”
“Not the part where you talk like you’re on borrowed time,” he said, his gaze steady.
“That’s hard to hear. But I believe there’s more than one way to live a good life.
Some paths are traditional. School, marriage, two point five kids.
Others aren’t. Take me, for example. I skipped college, and I’m doing fine. ”
“JJ…” I shook my head, not sure whether to be annoyed or amused. “I’m not sure you can compare our situations.”
“Why not? The reasons might not line up, but the choice does. You’re living outside the script on purpose. Isn’t that exactly what your bucket list is about?”
Admittedly, he had a point. “I guess so, but Stella won’t understand.”
JJ shrugged. “Then that’s her problem. Do you, and don’t worry about anyone else. I think that’s the quickest path to happiness.”
Several emotions coursed through me at his words—surprise, relief, gratitude.
But nothing compared to the validation I felt.
It was an open secret that my family agreed with Stella.
Mom and Dad walked on eggshells around me, like one wrong word would trigger my downward spiral, yet the pair always whispered about me behind closed doors.
Drew’s approach was entirely different. He preferred to act like nothing was wrong by treating me as he always had, except that every so often, I could tell how concerned he was just from the pained gaze he cast in my direction. All of it was exhausting.
“I—wow.” I sucked in a shaky breath. “You don’t know how much I needed to hear that. Thank you, JJ.”
“No need to thank me. It’s the truth.”
Not knowing how to respond, I let our conversation lapse. Two tables over, an elderly couple smiled and clapped as a little redhead twirled around, showing off her flower girl dress. We watched them for a moment before JJ broke the silence with a question.
“Can I ask you something personal?”
“I suppose you’ve earned the right,” I said, bumping my shoulder against his, “but you have to pay a question tax.” With a smirk, I snatched a yellow macaron off his plate and popped it in my mouth before he could protest. Expecting lemon or maybe banana, I was pleasantly surprised as the sweet, earthy flavor of honey melted against my tongue.
JJ didn’t seem to care. He was staring out across the room, his gaze unfocused. “If your doctor called tomorrow and said you only had a year left to live, how would you spend it?”
Something inside me went very still, like my body recognized the danger before my brain caught up.
“I know it’s a stock answer, but if I hadn’t already traveled the world, I think I’d do that,” JJ mused out loud as my pulse jumped. “There’s so much to see.”
I’d heard versions of this question before, asked it of myself in the dark at three in the morning, so why did it land like a blow coming from him?
“Or maybe,” he continued, “I’d go wild and do something off-the-wall, like BASE jumping or bull riding.”
The single macaron churned as it hit my stomach.
JJ kept talking, throwing out increasingly dangerous recreational activities he wanted to try, but I ignored him as my pulse continued to climb.
The space around me closed in, tight and airless, and suddenly all I could hear was my heartbeat—loud, erratic, and impossible to ignore.