Chapter 25
BEFORE
December, Eleven Years Ago
Julie flew back to California the day after Christmas, and I missed her even more than when she left for school that first summer.
I understood why Jackson was so upset over her absence now.
We needed her sunshine in our lives, and when she left, she took it with her.
It started to feel like a black cloud was permanently hovering over us without her around.
On New Year’s Eve, someone named Paul who graduated a couple years ago invited us to his party. He had been part of the stoner circle in high school, and I had a feeling the party would be filled with drugs.
I still had a weird animosity toward New Year’s Eve ever since I watched Jackson kiss someone else for the first time our freshman year, and I’d probably have to watch him kiss Sophie tonight. So, I figured a party where I could get wasted was exactly what I needed.
Sophie was driving the three of us to the party, dressed in a skin-tight black dress that showed off her curves. Jackson was in a button-up black dress shirt and light jeans, while I was in a boring pair of leggings and a plain cream sweater.
On the way to the party, Jackson and I passed a bottle of wine back and forth that he had snagged earlier from the restaurant.
Every time he reached into the backseat to hand it to me, Sophie would make eye contact with me in the mirror, giving me a dirty look.
I was so used to sharing a bottle with Jackson at the restaurant before they were dating that I didn’t realize the reason she was so mad was because our lips were touching the same spot over and over again.
The next time Jackson handed the bottle to me, I declined.
The party was already in full swing when we got there, with multiple different blunt circles going around. I watched someone do a line of coke in the kitchen as I awkwardly reached around them for a beer.
Sophie kissed Jackson’s cheek before saying she had to go to the bathroom, and I watched as Jackson rolled up a dollar bill and sniffed a line of cocaine.
I had never seen him do anything more than drink or smoke weed, and I was taken off-guard by how easily he did it.
He wiped his nose after, and when our eyes met, he put a finger to his lips as a signal to keep it a secret.
I gave him the middle finger before leaving the room.
***
Sophie was hanging off Jackson’s arm all night as he drank beer after beer, and took shot after shot. I never saw him do another line, but I kept my distance, joining different blunt circles and smoking whatever I could get my hands on between beers.
I took a deep inhale of the blunt in my fingers, coughing roughly before handing it to the guy next to me, Charlie. He was a couple years older than us, and was a cousin of Paul’s that had been at some of the same parties as us before.
“What’s up with you and that guy, Jackson?” Charlie asked after he took a hit.
I started coughing even worse into my fist. Charlie raised his eyebrows at me.
“Sorry, what?” I responded, feigning ignorance.
He motioned his head behind me, to where I was sure Jackson and Sophie were. I sneaked a glance behind me, confirming they were on the other side of the room. Jackson was watching me, and I gave a small wave before I turned back around to Charlie.
“We’re just friends. I’ve been working at his family’s restaurant since freshman year.”
Charlie gave me a look that screamed, Bullshit. I happily grabbed the blunt from the rotation, taking another deep hit.
“Does he know that?” Charlie said as he pinched what was left of the paper between his fingers. Was Charlie fucking with me? I felt like I had been caught doing something wrong, again.
“Of course he does, he’s dating Sophie Waters,” I said defensively.
Charlie made a hmmm sound, as if he didn’t believe me, then gave me a wicked grin. “Then why does he keep looking at me like he wants to fucking murder me every time I start talking to you?”
My heart started to race, and it wasn’t from the drugs.
“He’s not,” I argued.
“Watch this.” Charlie leaned forward to whisper in my ear, and I felt his breath against my hair. “I’m pretending to tell you something of importance, now hurry and turn around.”
I stood up so fast I almost toppled over. I couldn’t handle whatever look Jackson might have on his face, and I couldn’t handle this conversation with Charlie anymore. It was making me feel sick.
I left the house and walked outside into the falling snow, letting the cold air settle my nerves.
There were a few people outside smoking cigarettes, huddling close together to stay warm.
I stumbled to the front of the house, walking up and down the block until my toes were so numb I couldn’t feel them anymore.
I wasn’t wearing a hat, and my hair was wet from the snow by the time I finally decided to go back inside.
I took another shot before sitting on the floor next to someone named Scott. We had Spanish class together, and we started talking about our teacher and how happy we were to not be taking it next trimester.
“Your nose is all red,” he said before handing me a joint, and this time I didn’t cough when I inhaled deeply.
I was forcing myself to be engaged in the conversation, because I could see Sophie and Jackson across the room on the couch in my peripheral vision.
She was sitting on his lap, his hand cupping her ass.
I hated that I kept checking to see if they were still there, because every time I glanced over his eyes were on me, not her.
Before midnight, I watched her grab his hand and lead him upstairs. I had to fight to swallow down the bile that was climbing up my throat.
I stood up with everyone else when there was a minute left until midnight, my arms crossed against my chest while everyone around me counted down.
I couldn’t stop thinking about what Jackson and Sophie were doing upstairs.
I considered going up to see for myself, but when the bile threatened to rise up again, I thought better of it.
Someone handed us red plastic shot glasses, and Scott and I clinked the plastic together when the ball dropped.
As soon as I swallowed, he leaned in to kiss me fast and hard, the smell of weed wafting around us as everyone sparked a celebratory blunt for the new year. These stoners did not mess around.
When he pulled back to look at me, I grabbed his hand and pulled him upstairs.
We found an open bedroom and fumbled into the dark. I imagined he was Jackson. My body was filled with liquor and weed, and my blood felt like it was coursing through me faster than it ever had before.
The darkness around us transported me back to the closet I made out with Jackson in during the game of seven minutes in heaven. All I could think about was Jackson’s hand on my jaw and pulling my hips into his when I pulled Scott against me.
I needed to be touched; I needed someone to make me feel good.
“Will you touch me?” I asked as I fisted Scott’s shirt and pulled him closer until his lips were pressed against mine again.
I felt him nod against me. My hands found his hair, and I moved my fingers back and forth in the strands.
It felt just like Jackson’s, thick and textured.
The perfect length. I could smell the whiskey on his breath as we kissed.
He didn’t try to slip his tongue in my mouth, and I was grateful because my body felt too loose.
I wasn’t sure I’d know how to French kiss properly right now.
I was pressed against the wall and his hands were everywhere, sliding under my shirt and grabbing at any piece of me he could. All I could picture was Jackson’s face, his brown eyes looking at me like he could drown in me, yearning to be able to touch me. I let out a moan.
He started kissing down my stomach, pausing at my waist before sliding my leggings down.
“Are you sure this is okay?” he asked before sliding them to my ankles. His hands were hesitant, but I was impatient. I just needed Jackson to touch me—to give in to the want. I pushed my hips forward.
“Yes, Jackson, it feels good.”
His hands stilled, and he stood up from where he was kneeling.
“Hey,” he said softly, gently grabbing my face with his thumb and pointer finger to make me look him in the eyes. I couldn’t even see his face clearly in the darkness. “My name is Scott.” His voice was gentle, like he was talking to a skittish animal.
My brain was too fuzzy from the alcohol and the weed, and I started to giggle. I knew his name was Scott, but I wanted him to be Jackson so badly. I closed my eyes again, trying to push his head back down.
“I know it is. That’s what I said.” I was a gaslighter now, too, apparently.
He pushed my hand away from his head, holding it away from him. “How drunk are you? I don’t know if we should be doing this.” The one time I try to hook up with someone they have to be a decent guy? I could feel the blood moving through my body, pooling in every area that ached to be touched.
All I could think of was Sophie and Jackson in some room up here, too; how she was able to touch him in all the ways she wanted to, when it was me that should be touching him instead.
“I’m fine, I’m just a little high,” I lied. I was a lot of high. “I don’t want to have sex. I just want to fool around a little.”
He leaned forward and peppered kisses along my neck. I bit my lip, preventing myself from calling him Jackson again.
“If you’re sure,” he reiterated.
I started to rub the outside of his jeans instead of answering, feeling him grow as he groaned against my skin. His fingers slipped into my underwear, rubbing back and forth.