Chapter 24 #2
I swung one leg over the edge and Jackson jumped forward to catch me. He positioned us until I was piggyback riding him, and then he carried me to the truck. As soon as he set me down, he started walking for the house again instead of sliding into the seat next to me.
“Jackson!” I yelled out the window.
“What was up with the dramatic window escape?” Julie asked as she looked back and forth between me and Jackson.
“Peter. I didn’t want to have to walk by him in the kitchen—he was breaking a ton of shit.”
Julie’s eyes widened, and we both turned toward Jackson just as he opened my front door, bent down, and then turned around with my Converse in his hands.
My jaw dropped, and Jackson slid into the truck, plopping my shoes on my lap like it was no big deal.
“Let’s go,” Jackson said in a low voice.
Julie backed up faster than I was ready for, and my shoulder smacked into Jackson’s as I slid my feet into my shoes. I tucked in my laces, not even attempting to tie them.
“Did you see Peter?” I asked nervously.
Jackson’s jaw was clenched, and he leaned forward to turn up the music.
“I didn’t see anything, Addie. Just grabbed your shoes. I don’t even think he noticed,” Jackson said.
I let out a relieved sigh.
When we got to the restaurant, we parked in the alley and went through the back door, walking through the kitchen and turning on lights.
The three of us sat at the bar in a row, me between the two of them.
Julie picked out a white wine tonight, and we passed the bottle back and forth between us in a pattern.
“So, does Marie still have no idea we treat the wine like a free-for-all?” Julie asked as she slid the bottle past me to give Jackson his turn.
“Rami has been doing inventory on Sundays now to give Marie a break. I think she just assumes the bartender has a heavy hand,” Jackson said.
Julie snickered behind her hand. “Sucker.”
Julie was tipsy now, and got up to use the bathroom. She turned around before opening the bathroom door. “No dry-humping while I’m gone!” She let out an obnoxious laugh before opening the door and flipping the lock.
I covered my face with my hands. The three of us had never once acknowledged the time Julie walked in on Jackson and I in the kitchen our freshman year. We certainly didn’t joke about it, either.
I sneaked a glance at Jackson, but he looked totally unfazed, like he was in his own head.
“Does Peter do stuff like that a lot?” Jackson asked. I reared my head back, taken off-guard by the subject change.
I put my hair behind my ears, remembering the sound of all the loud bangs in the kitchen earlier.
“He hasn’t done something like that in a while.
I think he was fucked up over our mom telling him not to come for Christmas.
I don’t know why he still holds out hope she’ll one day magically care about us,” I told him.
Jackson took a long gulp of the wine before rubbing a hand down his mouth. “I’m really sorry that happened. I saw his car in the driveway; I’d just assumed maybe he’d rented a car this year to see her. That was stupid.”
I waved a hand to let him know it was fine.
“I, um . . . I told you I didn’t see anything, and I didn’t. But I heard him. He sounded like he was crying, and he kept saying the name Denise,” Jackson said.
“That’s my mom,” I said quietly. Damn, Peter truly was fucked up over our mom. “It was so weird, Jackson. He was so normal when I got home from your house this morning. He cooked us dinner, and then at the end of it he said I looked like our mom and it just flipped a switch in him.”
Julie came out of the bathroom then, and I gave Jackson a look that said I didn’t want to talk about this in front of her.
We spent the rest of the night listening to Julie’s music—none of the sad, hardcore music that Jackson was into now.
We jumped around the room, dancing on tables like the three of us used to before Julie left for California.
We split some cannoli and chatted until Julie had sobered up enough to drive us home.
They were both reluctant to take me home, but I promised them that Peter would be asleep by now, and that I would even use the front door when I got home.
On the way, Jackson played the song “Sleep Well, Darling” by Secrets, singing along to the words as we drove.
He was sitting in the middle this time, his hip pressed up against mine.
It had been years since the three of us had squeezed into this truck like this.
We were so much more grown now, and I couldn’t even press myself to the door to prevent contact if I wanted to.
His phone vibrated on his lap, and I watched as he ignored a tenth text from Sophie.
At the house, Jackson followed me out of the truck against my wishes. I let him walk me to the front door, but I still wouldn’t let him inside. All the lights were off when I opened the door, and I did a quick scan of the kitchen from where I stood. The mess was apparent, but no Peter in sight.
I turned around, giving him a thumbs up that it was safe. He nodded at me.
“Can’t forget your present.” He reached into his coat pocket and pressed a box into my hands. It was an iPod Nano. “I already loaded a bunch of songs onto it for you.”
A firework burst in my chest; I was sure Jackson could feel it.
I bit my lower lip to stop myself from smiling like an idiot.
“You . . .” I was so focused on holding back the tears that were prickling the corners of my eyes that I didn’t even know how to finish the sentence.
He was still everything to me, and I wanted to tell him how much this meant.
He’s still dating Sophie.
I shook my head at myself. I settled with, “Thank you so much, Jackson.”
He quirked his lips to the side, giving me a nod before reaching out a hand to squeeze my arm. “Thanks for hanging with us, Addie. It wouldn’t have felt like Christmas without you.” My heart went into a sprint.
“Merry Christmas, Jackson,” I said with a nod goodbye. I raised my arm to wave goodbye to Julie in the truck, then I turned around and went inside.
This time I didn’t take off my shoes until I got to my room and locked the door.