20. Just Another Song
JUST ANOTHER SONG
With an earbud in, I listen to the Lord of the Rings’s original score as I continue dipping my toes into the mist sprinkling off from the falls.
I needed something a little more calming than the bubblegum pop that I’ve been playing throughout the entire morning.
Yep, I’m that person. The moonstruck, hearts-in-her-eyes, giddy-to-the-brink-of-nausea girl.
I can’t help it. Not when I woke up this morning to a text from Jase telling me to meet him in here, accompanied by a video of our kiss on the pier with Jason Derulo’s “The Other Side” playing over it.
I’m not sure who captured the footage, but it was probably Rebecca since she was recording throughout the evening.
Having evidence that last night wasn’t some fever dream had me practically skipping all the way here.
Usually, I’d be enjoying my time alone, but I can’t stop stealing glances at my watch. Where is he? We were supposed to meet at eleven o’clock, and it’s now three minutes past noon. Has something happened? I shoot off my third text to him, waiting and waiting and waiting for a reply.
At a quarter after, I’m officially freaking out.
Any time Jase knows he’ll be running late, even by only a few minutes, he’s always texted to let me know.
Being an hour and fifteen minutes behind schedule and not bothering to reach out isn’t remotely like him.
Seriously, did something happen to Jase?
Sliding my dampened feet into my flip-flops, I grab my things and rush out of the cave.
I yelp as I lose my step climbing up the hillside, catching myself on a small ash tree.
I know I should’ve wiped my feet off first, but with my heart jackhammering in my chest, I’m not exactly using rational thinking.
My sandals continue slipping off in the foliage, and I eventually yank them off and make my way up to the road barefoot.
With my shoes dangling in my fingers, I run through the different neighborhoods across town until I eventually arrive in front of the three-story house at the end of a particular cul-de-sac.
I take out my singular earbud as I approach the front door, hearing loud laughter from inside. An inexplicable knot forms in my stomach, urging me to leave, but I knock on the front door all the same. The random chatter quiets down as I hear footsteps heading into the foyer.
I actually stagger back a step as the door opens, seeing Trent Easton on the other side of the threshold.
What the hell? Everyone else had already returned from the Italy trip, but Jase said the Untouchables had made a detour in New York and weren’t supposed to be in town for another week.
He was evidently wrong, considering Trent’s eyes now rake over me like I’m an orphan from Oliver Twist asking for porridge, making him simultaneously scoff and laugh. “Can I help you?”
“Um…yeah, I was just wondering if Jase was here,” I mutter.
“Hey, Jase, there’s a girl here for you…I think,” Trent calls over his shoulder before looking back at me. “You are a chick, right?”
“Who is it?” The feminine voice who answers instead has my feet backpedaling several steps.
Sure enough, Sienna Hawthorne saunters up next to Trent, appearing to be wearing nothing but a man’s shirt.
Perhaps her shorts are just that small that I can’t see them, but I know one thing for certain.
The shirt isn’t hers or Trent’s. The only teenager I’ve ever seen wearing an Allman Brothers concert tee is the one who lives here, and there’s a very distinct hole near the collar.
One I’m currently staring at on Sienna. Miss Queen Bee herself takes the same opportunity to appraise me, resulting in a laugh of her own.
The sound makes me bristle.
“Seriously, you have a bigger chest than she does,” Sienna says to Trent.
Sadly, she’s not wrong. Trent doesn’t have an ounce of fat on him, but good God, he’s muscular.
Honestly, was he held back a year (or three) when he was really little?
Because he’s far bigger than a fifteen-going-on-sixteen-year-old boy has any right to be.
I can’t remember being this close to him since second grade, and I’m failing to understand why all the girls at school have a crush on him.
It doesn’t matter how attractive he is. His overall presence is just…
scary. Trent doesn’t just stand there. He looms, looking down at me like I’m a bug he can literally squash.
Seeing the size of his hands, I wouldn’t doubt it.
He could probably snap my spine in half like a folding chair.
I can hear Olivia and Patrick in the family room, the siblings arguing about something I can’t focus on at the moment. It’s not just the size of Trent’s hands that catches my attention—it’s what he’s holding in one of them.
Jase’s phone.
“So, is this the little baby Birdie that won’t leave you alone?” Trent chuckles, waving the phone. The namedrop hits me so hard that it actually takes me a moment to notice the figure coming to stand behind the pair.
His infectious grin always greets me when I see him, but this time, Jase is anything but smiling. The pit in my stomach somehow takes over my entire body as I watch his face drain of color at the sight of me.
Sienna jeers something, but I can’t seem to process it—not when Jase just stands there looking horrified.
I didn’t have any delusions about him bringing me “into the fold” and that everyone would welcome me as a new member of the Untouchables.
I figured he would have his friends, and he would have me.
I figured we could exist as two functioning but separate parts of his life. I didn’t expect…whatever this is.
He’s not introducing us or saying anything .
I just stand, stock-still in place, feeling my insides wrench so hard that I nearly double over. Jase can barely hold his gaze to me, and tears start burning behind my own eyes.
I know that look. My sister used to wear it whenever our dad would make Vanessa take me with her when she’d hang out with her friends. I was just the tagalong, a.k.a. the embarrassing, awkward misfit she couldn’t shake.
Don’t you dare cry.
Sienna snaps her fingers in front of my face when I don’t answer whatever question she’s asked, earning me another mocking laugh. “You slow or something? Why. Are. You. Here?”
Knowing my voice will either catch or outright break, I don’t trust myself to speak, so I just stare at Jase, praying for a lifeline.
His features tighten, a sudden, cold indifference settling over his face. And unlike me, his voice is steady when his eyes lock on mine. “Take the hint already. I’m not interested in what you’re selling.”
And just like that, Jase steps forward and shuts the door in my face. He doesn’t slam it, and somehow, that hurts more. There’s no emotion to his actions, like I’m nothing more than an annoying girl scout trying to peddle thin mints.
All I’m left with is Trent’s laughter from the other side of the door, no doubt directed at Jase. “Seriously, are they letting anyone in this neighborhood now, or did you start running a charity foundation since we left?”
I get as far as the Boynton’s house before tears spill from my eyes, and I make sure to keep my head down.
It’s rather pointless, though, since my entire body now shakes with the sobs I’m struggling to hold inside.
Not like anyone would notice, let alone care.
Blythe was at the house when I left this morning, and I don’t want to risk running into her, so I go to the only other place I can truly be by myself.
Two hours later sitting behind the falls, not much has changed for me.
The rushing water muffles my sobs until they dissolve into sniffles, and a steady stream of tears rolls down my face.
My eyes are raw and puffy, and the constant crying blurs my vision that it takes me several attempts to blink through the bleariness so that I can read the new text message on my phone.
Jase.
I want to throw my cell against the cavern wall but barely refrain, seeing the message read:
“I am so fucking sorry. Please meet me at our spot. I’ll explain everything.”
Is he kidding?
Jase is coming here? To say what? “ I’m too ashamed to be seen with you, so can you settle for being my dirty, dorky little secret?”
Screw that.
No, screw him .
I won’t let him see me like this. I won’t let him know how deep he cut me. I won’t be reduced to some “charity” case in which he feels obligated to keep humoring me in private.
Scrubbing any trace of tears off my face, I pack my blanket into its bag and tuck it away, ready to leave, when a shadow falls over the terrain not far from the entrance.
It moves along and down the slope of the hill until it’s almost directly in front of the cave’s opening.
At this point, I’d prefer it to be a ravening wolf or black bear, but the shape of the figure is undoubtedly human.
No.
No, he can’t already be here.
I prepare to retreat as deep into the cave as I can, praying the limited light will obscure my puffy eyes and beat-red nose…
…when I hear a voice from outside, the words muffled by the rushing water.
And it sure as hell isn’t Jase’s.
It belongs to a female.
The same female who had been wearing his shirt a couple of hours ago.
What the fuck?
What the fuck? What the fuck? What the everliving fuck?
Jase brought Sienna Hawthorne to our spot!
No. No, this can’t be happening. Maybe he’s on the phone with her, and the call is set on speaker mode.
I slink forward to the mouth of the cave and steal a look around the bend to see Jase’s back to me…
And Sienna’s arms drape over his shoulders as she leans into him, her chest pressing against his. Whatever she’s saying still can’t be made out over the sounds of the falls, but she’s smiling, practically purring, as she brings her mouth to his.