Track 15
JAKE
IT’S BEEN A long few days. I’ve tried to put my last encounter with Alana behind me, but it’s burned into my memory, branded onto my heart.
The twisted way she’s learned to think about herself has me clawing at the edges of my mind on how to make it right.
How to make her see how absolutely perfect she actually is. Never mind how beautiful she looked.
Every time I replay the conversation in my head, all I hear are the things she didn’t say—that she wants me exactly as I want her. That her mind wanders to the same shameful places mine does. That she doesn’t want this to be the end, but she thinks it has to be.
There’s nothing I can do about any of it.
“What up, what up!” Nate yells, tossing me out of my thoughts.
He leans against the colorfully-lit bar in his Santa hat, which reminds me that it’s Donn’s Christmas party tonight.
Strands of tinsel hang from various areas, and frilly gold garland drapes most of the banisters, accompanied by thick round Christmas lights.
Donn’s is going for the 60’s Christmas vibes, and it’s safe to say it’s met the theme.
“What’s up, man?” I grab his hand across the bar, leaning in briefly before I dab the next three guys walking in behind him—Vince, Gerry, and my boy, Brian.
Brian gets his own greeting. I haven’t seen him since he left for the internship we had lined up in Seattle. I heard it led him to his dream job, which couldn’t make me happier for him.
“What’s up, Bri?” I say excitedly as he leans over the bar and brings me in for a full brotherly hug.
“Jake, you look great, man. How’s everything going?
” He steps back and pats my shoulder. “You were a little bit of a mess last time I saw you. I’m glad to see you smiling.
” He almost laughs lightheartedly, clearly pleased I didn’t jump off the bridge I was once on the edge of. The one I feel myself returning to.
“I’m good, brother,” I lie.
“Jakey Cakes?” Nate interjects. “He’s always smilin’ now,” he sings.
“Is that right?” Brian says with a lift of his brow. I grab the four of them beers, lining them up while ignoring Nate and popping an extra one open for myself.
“Oh, yeah,” Nate continues with a teasing tone. “Jake’s in love—”
“No way.” Brian covers his mouth, wide-eyed in mock horror.
“Yup. With Hot Friend.” Nate takes a slug of his beer, and I scowl at him. He doesn’t know it but now is clearly not the time.
“Don’t listen to him. She’s just a friend.” And she’s trying not to be, I don’t add.
“A fucking friend,” Nate says. The four of them laugh, and I force a smirk so I don’t seem uptight about the subject, though I couldn’t hate this conversation more.
“We’re not hooking up,” is all I say. “Drop it.”
Nate does air quotes while rolling his eyes. Brian shoves his shoulder while Gerry laughs, but Vince… He pays close attention.
“But, she does hook up, though, right?” Vince leans into the bar.
“Just not with you? So, like, any one of us can try. Since y’all are just friends and all.
” A jealous fury rages deep in my gut at the cut of his tongue.
I give him a cold stare, warning him to back the fuck off.
He gives me a smug smirk in response that screams challenge accepted.
Nate and his asshole friends.
“Whatever, man. Friends, not friends. I’m happy you’re happy, dude.
” Brian raises his bottle to cheers, and I do the same, doing my best to ignore how far from happy I currently am.
“Anyway, listen,” Brian continues as the rest of the group falls away.
“There’s an opening coming up in my division.
Some guy’s getting promoted so his position’s up for grabs.
It’s entry level, but it’s Stratford, so you know it’s just a matter of time before you make your way up the ladder.
They like to hire from within so it’s hard to get an outsider in there, but I was thinking of dropping your name in the hat. Think you’d be interested?”
“In Seattle?”
“Yeah. You into it?”
I take a long swig of my beer, thinking about timing and how inconvenient this all is. Or maybe it’s for the best since Alana wants nothing to do with me. I nod agreeably. Even though I have zero interest in moving right now. Maybe a change would be good.
“Cool. I’ll put in a good word, then. You know what would be good, too? A letter of recommendation from a professor. Or your advisor or something.”
I do a quick mental recap of how horribly I sabotaged my last semester, followed by my current semester where I’ve done the absolute least just to get by in Stanley’s class.
Neither are good representations of my work ethic, and it’s not like I can say I was going through a tough time and beg for a good rec, anyway.
Whatever. I guess I screwed myself more than I thought I did.
“I’ll think of something.”
Brian slaps my shoulder, proud and excited, and I sip my beer, pretending I’m actually invested in what it is he’s offering—a career. A new life. Again.
“You gonna stay and hang out after?” he asks.
“Nah, I’ll probably head out.”
“Come on. I’m only here for two nights. You can spare some time to have a couple beers with your boy.” My eyes bounce from the guys, then back to Brian. “Hour, tops.” He holds a hand up. “Scout’s honor.”
I scoff. “You grew up in Brooklyn.”
“Yeah.” He smirks. “Scouts of Bone Thugs and Harmony.”
That one gets a laugh out of me.
The chatter moves into regular talk as I work to prep the bar before opening—basic catch ups, who has what final next week, post break plans, opinions on this season's football stats. It’s enough to keep my mind somewhat level.
The bar fills up quickly. Before I realize it, I’m moving from one end to the other and back again, serving drink after drink to every salivating patron. Donn’s is more of a beer and shots kind of joint, but tonight’s festivities have brought in more than the usual crowd.
Including Macey Bromwell, who is now standing in front of me, undressing me with her piercing green eyes. Long black locks flow down her back and over her shoulder in bouncy, layered waves. Her lips spread into a seductive smile, her shining white teeth curtained by the dark red painted on them.
“Jake Cooper,” she sings. “What a pleasant surprise.”
“Macey.” I nod, giving her just enough eye contact to avoid being rude, but not enough to misunderstand my lack of interest. When she realizes how little attention I’m planning on giving her, she reaches into her hat of tricks.
“Notice anything different about me?” she asks.
“No,” I say coldly without looking up.
“Come on.” She sways closer. “Take another look.”
I step back as if I need the space for a better view, breaking my gaze from her as I open the beer bottle in my hand and wipe it dry before passing it along, my skin itching the entire time.
There’s something painfully uncomfortable about being in the presence of someone you’ve slept with that you wish you didn’t.
It’s regret mixed with nauseating guilt and shame, every glance a reminder of the mistake your body made before your mind could catch up.
It’s enough to make you want to scrub yourself raw, to boil your skin and start over as a new version of yourself.
Unfortunately, we don’t get to take back our mistakes. We just have to live with them. Like gnawing ghosts that reside in the corner of our minds.
“What can I get you?” I ask, trying to move the conversation along. If she’s wounded by my avoidance, she doesn’t show it.
“I’ll take a white Russian, and a shot of Jameson.”
I nod in acknowledgment of her request, grabbing the glasses I’ll need and setting them before her.
She leans in, her cleavage spilling out onto the bar. I focus on my own hands and make sure not to notice. “It’s the same thing I had the night we hooked up. Maybe it’s my lucky charm.”
My stern gaze finds hers in an effort to quietly shut her down, but I know well enough that Macey never takes the first no for an answer. Or any of the ones after that.
As promised, when my shift ends, I go to join Brian, Nate, and the others on the other side of the bar. When I notice they’re huddled with a group of girls, Macey being one of them, I immediately try to backtrack. Nate spots me before I get a chance.
“Finally!” he yells, passing me a beer. “The caveman has exited the safety of his confines.” I give him a guarded grin in response. “Cheers, Jakey Cakes!”
Brian laughs with him as they tap their bottles to mine. I suck half of my beer down in an instant.
Brian starts talking about some big merger his branch is overseeing at Stratford, and I try to stay interested, but my brain starts to zone out, thoughts of Alana flooding my mind.
Wishing she were here. Hating and loving the way my body knows her absence.
The way my eyes search for hers and my ears wait to hear her laugh.
The way I’m so royally fucked when it comes to her.
I peer around the group as I finish my first beer and reach for a second. Everyone in the circle is glassy-eyed and buzzed, laughing loudly over the music and enjoying their night without a care in the world.
When my eyes land on Macey, she drags her gaze over my body, like a tigress awaiting its perfect moment to pounce. It makes my skin crawl.
I move around the table and out of her view. When a tray of shots arrives, I down two quickly. Maybe if I can catch a buzz, being here won’t feel like scratching my eyes out with a dull knife.
Even though I know Alana won’t set foot in here tonight, or likely ever again, I keep checking for the door, hoping she’ll be the next one to walk through it.
I know she would be here if things were good between us.
I hate that they’re not, and I hate that I don’t have a single clue of how to make them right again.
I hate that I let the one good thing I had going in my life slip away before I even had a grasp on it.
“Here, man.”