Chapter 14
BEFORE
October, Thirteen Years Ago
The restaurant was filled with a bunch of their extended family that I had never met before.
Phil had two brothers, Marie had three sisters, and there were too many nieces and nephews for me to keep track of.
Marie and Phil were both the youngest in their families, so all their siblings’ kids were significantly older than Sam, Julie, and Jackson.
Some of Jackson’s cousins were already married with kids of their own.
I had never been surrounded by so many Italians before. It was awesome.
Jackson and I were wearing matching Peeta and Katniss costumes from The Hunger Games—a movie Julie had taken us to see earlier this year.
She and Jackson had massive crushes on Jennifer Lawrence, and I’d admitted that I had been obsessed with Josh Hutcherson since I saw the movie Bridge to Terabithia.
Jackson and I looked nothing like the characters, with his hair so dark it was basically black, and my hair as light as snow, but Julie braided my hair for me so I had a perfect Katniss braid.
Jackson brought me an old plastic bow and arrow toy set he had from when he was younger—it was lime green and bright orange, and the child-size quiver barely fit on my shoulder, but it got the costume across.
Jackson was carrying around a bread roll from the kitchen, and half his family didn’t get his costume, which just made it a million times funnier than it had to be.
Marie and Phil were dressed as a zombie bride and groom, with fake blood painted on their faces.
Julie was wearing a lime-green shirt with a sparkly silver skirt and an alien antenna headband, her long brown hair crimped down her back.
Sam was dressed as Clark Kent, in an unbuttoned suit with sunglasses, and a red S on his undershirt.
There were bottles of wine at every booth, and someone had filled a punch bowl with a bright-orange mixed drink, which sat on the hostess stand. Jackson was sneaking us cups throughout the night, but I didn’t have enough to get drunk—unlike Jackson, who had a steady buzz going.
Julie was somewhere in the dining room with her cousins playing a game of Twister, and Phil and Marie were still doing their rounds, playing host and saying hi to family while Jackson and I hid in the kitchen, drinking more of the orange mixed drink and eating slices of pizza.
Halloween music was playing in the background, and even with the kitchen doors closed, I could hear the laughter and loud talking of his relatives out in the dining room, speaking a mixture of English and Italian.
“You have a really big family,” I told Jackson as we swung our legs back and forth from where we sat on the countertop. “Your uncle Tony scared the shit out of me; he told me some story that I’m almost positive was about his time in the mafia.”
Jackson let out a low laugh. “Don’t worry, you’re Italian, too. You’re safe. But yeah, my family is huge. Half of them forget my name most of the time.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah, or they accidentally call me Sam.” He rolled his eyes as he shoved the rest of his pizza in his mouth. “Do you have a big Italian family, too?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never met any of my relatives.”
Jackson stared at me with sad eyes before looking away and studying the food containers on the wall. I was desperate to change the subject—I didn’t want him to pity me. He had no idea how much fun I was having here tonight.
“I can’t believe your parents have been married for thirty years. That’s a really long time,” I said.
Jackson nodded. I tried to do the math in my head. Sam was somewhere around Peter’s age, so he was probably twenty-four or twenty-five. I squinted my eyes for a second, realizing I had no idea how old Marie and Phil were.
“Wait, how old are your parents?”
Jackson squinted his own eyes, and I watched his lips move as he figured it out. “Well, my mom had me when she was forty, so she’s like fifty-six or something.”
I had to hold my lips together to keep my jaw from dropping. His parents were in their mid-fifties? I didn’t think they looked a day over forty-five. My own mom was more than ten years younger than his parents. She was only twenty when she had Peter, and twenty-eight when she had me.
“Oh, that makes sense now; why you’re so much younger than your other cousins, I mean,” I said.
Jackson made a sound from the back of his throat before chugging the rest of his drink.
“I’m so much younger because I was an accident,” Jackson said.
An accident? “What do you mean?”
Jackson looked up at me. “An accident. Like, a mistake. My parents didn’t plan on having more children after Julie.”
I furrowed my eyebrows as my eyes traveled over his face. I refused to believe that was true. His parents loved him—he was their baby. “Why would you say that, Jackson?”
He looked me dead in the eyes. “I’m serious. My dad got a vasectomy after they had Julie. They didn’t want another baby. But somehow, they ended up with me.” He started playing with the zipper of his costume so he didn’t have to look at me anymore.
“What’s a vasectomy?”
Jackson started laughing, placing his hands over his face as he shook from his chuckles.
“You really are sheltered. Did you not pay attention in health class?” he asked with a goofy grin.
I felt my cheeks grow warm. “I’m not taking health until next trimester.” It was my turn to avoid eye contact. I spun the ladles and spatulas around on their hangers behind me, refusing to meet Jackson’s gaze.
“It’s a surgery guys get so they’re like, infertile. They can still come and stuff, but there’s no sperm in it to get a girl pregnant.”
I was sure my entire body flushed red. I didn’t understand how Jackson could just talk about this stuff so freely without being embarrassed.
“Oh, I see,” I said quietly.
“Yep,” he said. “So that’s why my parents didn’t expect me. Sam and Julie used to tease me about it all the time when I was younger.”
It hurt my heart to see Jackson act like he was a mistake in his family, or like they didn’t want him. He was such an essential part of his family, and such an essential part of my life. I couldn’t imagine him not being around.
“Well, if it makes you feel better, I was a mistake, too. I was the product of a one-night stand. My mom cheated on Peter’s dad. That’s why Peter hates me so much; I destroyed their family by being born,” I said.
Jackson’s nostrils flared as he met my eyes. I thought the statement would make him feel like we had a mutual connection, but he was looking at me with anger now.
“Why would that make me feel better?” he asked with an expression that read, Are you an idiot?
“I—” He held up a hand to stop me before I could say more.
“You’re not a mistake. Don’t ever say that about yourself. And don’t say you destroyed a family by being born. Your mom cheated, not you,” Jackson said adamantly.
My heart was slapping against the inside of my chest. I didn’t know how to respond.
It wasn’t like he was making some grand statement, but after being made to feel like an inconvenience by Peter my entire life, it felt so, so good to have someone like Jackson tell me that my situation wasn’t my fault.
I chewed on the inside of my lip. “Thanks, Jackson,” I said quietly. “Don’t say you’re a mistake, either.”
I could feel him staring at me, then he tapped a finger against my kneecap. “Come on, let’s get back to the party. I think they’re playing bingo in a few.”
I followed Jackson back into the dining room, and we sat at a booth with his family and got ready to play bingo. Throughout the rest of the party, I kept catching Jackson watching me, looking at me like I mattered.
I kept staring back, hoping he knew my look was telling him that he mattered, too.