Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Jennifer
My legs are wooden as I walk in a daze toward my car.
That’s it.
I’m done.
No longer a student here.
When I looked at my future as a teenager, I never expected to enter my twenties like a damaged and failed student whose issues have issues, but here we are.
And it happened today of all days.
As it stands, I already felt like my insides had been scooped out, so I feel no emptier than I did before. But it’s the lack of direction now that’s leaving me feeling adrift.
I don’t know why, since my father already has me pointed in the direction he wants me to go.
“Jennifer!”
I’m startled out of my depressing thoughts and spin around to see Marni and Jersey approaching. Smiles are stretched across their faces, not a hint of a blemish on their wonderfully perfect lives.
Envy slaps me across the face. I can’t help it.
They’ve always been safely covered under an umbrella while the storm of my life rages on, soaking me through.
And still, I miss them. Crave our old friendship. Feel the painful absence of their existence.
“Hey, girl.” Jersey leans in to kiss my cheek. She’s learned. “Are you going home?”
“Yeah, I was just going to make one stop first.”
Marni twirls a set of keys around her finger. “You should come to the BBQ our friend Charli is having.”
I try to mask my surprise that Marni is inviting me somewhere since it’s usually Jersey who does, if at all. The sad thing is, I can’t tell if she was sincere in asking or if she expected me to say no like I have in the past.
“Yes, you should.” Jersey bumps her elbow with mine. “We were just going to grab a few things from the store before going.”
I hike my purse higher, shifting on my feet.
“Come on, it’s been forever.”
My eyes flicker between my two old friends, thinking this might be a nice distraction for today. Maybe we’ll be able to catch up properly and rekindle some of our lost friendship.
“Okay, sure. I’ll come.”
An hour later, we’re pulling up to a single-story corner house on a tree-lined block.
The trip to the store was slightly awkward with the girls talking to each other about all the things in their lives that I have no idea about anymore.
And even though Matt and Jersey are still dating, both girls are just as boy crazy and love to talk about sex. I’m still working on being alone with a man, so dating and sex are not even a thought in my mind.
But I pasted on a smile and pretended none of it bothered me.
This is my doing after all—the distance, the fact that they know nothing about my struggles.
Or maybe it’s just that they don’t care.
We follow the path down the side of the house to the backyard, carrying bags of food and drinks.
It’s a seasonably warm day, though I think the sweat that’s causing my loose tank-top to cling to my body has more to do with this situation.
I knew it was likely that I wouldn’t know anyone here, but it doesn’t stop the anxiety rising to my skin in the form of more sweat when we spill into the backyard, and I’m met with a group of unfamiliar faces that turn to look at me while ending all conversations.
Their piercing gazes scan over me, stripping me bare as if they already know me and see the hidden filth below. They whisper things like, “Isn’t that the girl who was raped?”
Damaged. Dirty.
Jersey grabs the bag from my hand, pulling my eyes to her. “Go get a plate of food and find a seat. All the meat is already cooked.”
I turn back, seeing that no one is looking in my direction at all. Just a figment of my mentally unstable mind.
Shaking my thoughts away, I do as she says, only taking a small portion since I’m not sure how much I’ll even be able to eat.
The back of my neck prickles and the moment I turn around, whatever hopes I had of being able to swallow any food vanishes when I come face-to-face with Dylan, who appears to have just arrived.
Besides the few random encounters at Dad’s office over the past couple of years, we haven’t been in a social setting together since that one Halloween.
A familiar smug smirk sits on his arrogant face, his dull blue eyes making a bored sweep over me. There’s always something in his expression that gives off the impression that he knows something no one else does. At least, to me it does.
“So, you do still have a social life.”
Why, oh why, do I have to see him today of all days?
“What’s it to you?” I try scooting around him, but he steps in my path, his smile widening.
I fling my panicked gaze to Jersey and Marni, but they forgot about my existence the moment we arrived. Not that it would matter anyway, because Dylan is still their friend, and they would have no reason to think I’m distressed while talking to him.
The thing is, I don’t even know why I feel this way in his presence.
“It’s nothing to me, really, but I’ve spent a lot of time with the girls, and you’re never there.” He turns to look at them as well. “Do they even know what day it is?”
I blink up at him, but he doesn’t bother returning my gaze.
He wouldn’t know, would he? None of my friends and family seem to ever remember the date. It’s been two years exactly since that night.
“The day Jennifer Lapmor dropped out of college,” he says. Oh. “How the mighty have fallen. Just think, now that you’ll be working for your dad, we’ll be working in closer proximity.” His lips quirk up again as he turns my way. “It’s possible you could even be my assistant.”
I know for a fact that I’m not working with or near him, but with the way my skin bristles at just the thought of it, you’d think my body never got the memo.
“Oh, you haven’t told them yet, have you?” He takes the expression on my face as meaning I’m worried about telling the girls rather than the possibility of working with him that’s making me feel sick.
I push past him rather than answer him and find a seat between two male strangers, even though it makes me feel uneasy. No way in hell I’d let Dylan sit next to me.
And why does it seem like he’s happy to watch my life fall apart around me?
The girls still haven’t looked in my direction, nor did they introduce me to any of the other people here. I resign myself to the fact that we are not anything like the friends we used to be and that this won’t be any type of catch-up like I’d imagined.
Why did I think it was a good idea to come in the first place?
Despite my inner turmoil, I force myself to talk to the people sitting next to me, even accepting a red solo cup with shaking, numb fingers. I have no idea what was in it because I didn’t drink it, but I held on to it, trying hard to seem like my old normal self.
I’m not sure if it worked.
When Jersey drops me back at my car that evening, all I feel is depleted, empty, and alone.