36. I Love It When It Rains #2
“She didn’t know if you were there, so she asked if you could see us, and when I didn’t answer, Sienna told me to ‘play nice’ if I didn’t want anything to happen to you.”
Now, that has me drawing up short.
All Jase can do is stare down into his bottle. “Looking at Sienna at that moment, I knew she wasn’t fucking around. You burn that bitch’s ego, and she’ll set the whole town on fire in retaliation. I’ve seen what she’s capable of. The idea of what she might do to you—” He shakes his head.
The soft patter of rain that had played as a secondary soundtrack this past hour is all but gone, replaced by increasingly high winds and a torrential downpour that hammers against the roof and side of the building.
Neither fazes Jase. He takes a sip of his beer, but the act is almost mechanical, his eyes unfocused and attention drifting elsewhere, lost in a memory he can’t shake.
It’s likely the same expression I’ve been sporting since coming here.
“I thought that Sienna would move on, but she and Trent kept hinting at it, day after day, month after month. And I was too much of a chicken shit to do anything—”
“You were a kid.”
“I was a coward.” His eyes finally meet mine, and the rawness in them drags the air from my lungs.
“All I wanted was you. I wanted to be your friend again, and I wanted to apologize, and I wanted to rewind to the last night we had, and I wanted Trent and Sienna to forget all about you, but I couldn’t bring myself to do anything to fix what I could.
And it was all because I was driven by the fear of what might happen.
And then when she brought my dad into this… ”
“Your dad?” What would Michael Rivers have to do with this?
“The Eastons have dirt on virtually everybody in town, and every politician has at least one skeleton in their closet. I had no idea what my dad could have been involved in, but Sienna insinuated she and Trent knew something.”
When news broke about Mr. Rivers’s arrest three and a half years ago, Jase never returned to school. I didn’t even see him around town before he and his mom abandoned the east coast for surfboards and suntans.
Jase lets out a nearly inaudible laugh, not looking particularly amused. “Do you remember the Friday before everything happened with my dad?”
How could I forget? That day is cemented in my head, though probably for different reasons than his.
It was when Sienna had given me a concussion during gym class. I say as much as he takes another long pull from the beer in his hand, expecting him to fill me in on whatever explosive high school drama took place after I was taken away in the ambulance.
But he doesn’t.
Because, as it turns out, I was the drama.
After Jase takes back his phone to pull up something, he hands it back to me, and I’m met with a video I’ve never seen before.
Sienna, Trent, and Patrick come on screen, all holding bottles of what I can assume are liquor, given their demeanors as everyone laughs and hollers.
The sun is close to setting over the lakefront, and though I don’t recognize the property, it’s a safe bet they’re in someone’s backyard.
Trent and Patrick take turns tossing lumps of charcoal in the air, trying to hit them with a baseball bat.
Both are athletically inclined, so they must be hammered if neither manages to hit anything after six attempts.
The group only laughs harder when Trent manages to clip one piece, sending it flying a whole ten feet.
Flames already rage from the fire pit as the person recording the video reaches into the bag of charcoal beside it and lobs another piece at the guys.
As the camera zooms back out, I can see everyone’s inside a stone gazebo as snow drifts in the background.
I don’t need to ask who’s filming. I had to listen to Olivia’s constant giggling all throughout Biology class, and it’s apparently even worse when she’s drunk.
The sound nearly drowns out the song playing through the portable speaker on the other side of the fire pit.
Only, this time, her giggling is a welcomed reprieve since it also drowns out Trent’s voice as he laughs about having taken the V-card of a certain pastor’s daughter.
In said pastor’s office.
At the church.
Not only is he a sleazeball, but he’s also terribly unoriginal.
The laughing turns to cheerful greetings as Trent announces, “There he is! Finally, the party can begin.”
He puts a cigarette between his lips as he extends the baseball bat to the new arrival.
Jase enters the frame, all too happy to take it, only…
He’s not interested in hitting charcoal. Jase swings the bat towards the fire pit, striking the portable speaker and smashing it into oblivion.
Without the music, everyone’s cursing and screams can be heard perfectly as they all cower back.
“What the fuck, man?” Trent attempts to come across as nothing more than annoyed, but the quiver in his voice gives him away. He’s freaked out, as he should be.
Because Jase doesn’t drop the bat. His knuckles remain white as he practically strangles the grip of it, looking all too ready to start swinging again. Only once he reaches the firelight can I make out his expression, and it’s nothing short of murderous.
And I don’t mean that lightly.
He looks like he may very well begin bashing in someone’s brains. Preferably Sienna’s. “We had a deal. I stay away from her, and you leave her alone.”
“Hey, don’t look at me—”
“You did it in the middle of the goddamn gymnasium, Sienna! What the fuck is wrong with you?”
She rolls her eyes. “It’s not like I hit her. The dork just tripped. What’s the big deal?”
“Ali’s in the goddamn hospital!”
Either she’s too dense or narcissistic to read the room, because Sienna chooses to bat her eyelashes, her voice taking on a quality meant to sound like a purr. “If you can’t handle a girl being that fragile, perhaps you should look for someone a little more durable.”
Every part of Jase goes still, save for his eyes.
He blinks, and blinks, and blinks, as if he’s trying to process what she just said.
His mouth tips up into a smile, but it’s the kind usually reserved for Halloween masks.
“Are you fucking kidding?” He scoffs. “Is that really what all of this is about? Because I won’t fuck you? ”
Patrick and Trent look at her, confused, and for the first time in my life, Sienna Hawthorne actually blushes, refusing to return their stares.
Jase slow-claps, at least as best as he can.
With the bat in one hand, he beats the barrel of it against his other palm, looking more like he’s promising to start swinging it again.
“What does it matter? Everybody at school already believes I’m fucking you.
Congratulations! You won. You got Birdie’s sloppy seconds. ”
The derision and false cheer in his voice leaves Sienna’s jaw clenching, her expression turning venomous.
It only spurs Jase on, to the point that he’s outright taunting her.
“That’s it, isn’t it? That’s the part that kills you, that she got there first. You don’t know if I fucked her, but you know I at least kissed her, and you know my decision had nothing to do with the Dogfight.
And that’s what eats you alive. She got to play with the shiny new toy you’ve always wanted, and not only that, but the toy wants nothing to do with you. ”
“Fuck you,” she seethes, but Jase just keeps smiling, getting right up in her face.
“Do you know why I want nothing to do with you? Because being a vile, repulsive bitch doesn’t count as having a personality, Sienna.
I wouldn’t fuck you if you were the last warm body on the planet.
And if you or one of your minions here goes after Ali again, I’ll be fucking up a lot more than just your sound system, sweetheart. ”
Trent starts to move forward, like he’s actually going to fight Jase, but I notice he only has the cojones to do so when Patrick comes to his side.
He already knows what his buddy will do, so he makes a show of it, raising his fists.
As expected, the second he takes a step, Patrick intervenes, holding Trent back and telling him to calm down.
Only once Jase finally throws the bat aside and stalks back off into the darkness does Trent bother with the smack talk, knowing damn well he’s safely out of earshot.
Olivia lowers the phone so that the only thing visible is the stone patio. Still, the audio remains intact to hear Sienna seething, mainly calling me a certain something that rhymes with Bunt.
“Relax, Si. If that fucker wants a war, he’s going to be disappointed,” Trent says, his voice now eerily calm. “He’s about to get annihilated.”
The video stops, but I can’t put down the phone or look away. “Is that true? That the kiss had nothing to do with the Dogfight?”
“Do you really still believe that it didn’t?”
“Yes… No… It’s—” I just shrug. “You could have just told me, you know?”
“I did what I thought was best at the time. It seemed like the only way no one would get hurt.”
I look over the brim of my drink, the “Are you fucking kidding? ” note practically stamped across my forehead.
“No one outside of the dogfight was ever supposed to know,” he says.
“And it was never about looks. It was just Sienna’s way of targeting any girl who wasn’t a cheerleader or influencer.
She appointed herself as the judge for the contest, and since everyone knew how pissed Sienna was at you regarding the Italy trip, half of the basketball team was planning to make a move on you.
I had noticed you for years, and you had never been anything but nice to everybody.
I couldn’t stomach the idea of some douchebag scamming on you just to rip the rug out from under your feet. ”
“Again, you could have just told me.”