Chapter 8: Chapter 8

Before Jesse, the time I spent alone with my thoughts usually ended up being productive. That was, if wondering what I most wanted to eat or trying to figure out if a flashing light in the sky was a star or an airplane was even considered being productive.

And yet, even though the thought of Jesse made me more annoyed than slow internet, there I was, seated at the kitchen table, using a fork to bring pieces of my dad’s pecan pie to my mouth as I went over the reasons why Jesse struck so many nerves in me.

It might have been the fact that he was good looking. With the black hair, the blue eyes, and the face looking as though it was carved from stone, even I couldn’t deny it. And maybe, if he weren’t such an arrogant little shit, I probably wouldn’t even find it in me to deny the simple pleasure of having a crush on him.

But, of course, guys like him took advantage of the jeans they carried.

And I hated that.

“Carson.” I paused, the fork in my hands midway to my mouth. I looked up to see my father entering the kitchen. With narrowed eyes directed at me, he grabbed a fork similar to mine and sat beside me at the table, sticking it into the pie. “You know better than anyone not to start a party without me.”

I smiled. “Rest assured, Dad. It won’t happen again.”

He returned my smile and was quiet for a moment as he ate the dessert. But then, after a minute, he asked, “What’s on your mind, kid?”

“What makes you think there’s anything on mind?”

“Because, daughter of mine.” He tapped at my plate. “You hate pecan pie.”

I stopped chewing.

And then when I actually started to taste the food in my mouth, I dropped my fork. “Oh, my God, you’re right,” I squeaked, pressing a hand to my mouth as I swallowed the piece of pie.

“So, what is it?” my dad asked once I composed myself. “Fight with Katrina? Get a bad grade? I’ll sign the sheet so your mom won’t beat you with the iron crowbar we have out back.”

“No, none of that. It’s just…” I sighed. “This guy at school.”

My dad’s eyebrows shot up, and he shifted in his seat. “Dear God. Maybe I should get your mother—Reanne! Honey—”

“No, no!” I shot my hands up to ward him off. “It’s nothing like that, I swear.”

My dad’s panicked stricken face morphed into seriousness, and he scooted closer to me. “Then what? Is he picking on you? The little prick. Just let me call Darren back from college and we’ll fry the bastard—”

“No! Dad!” I slapped his phone away the moment he yanked it out of his pocket. It was easy to see which parent I’d inherited my brash actions from. “It’s not any of that, it’s…well, it kind of is but not really. He acts like he likes me and I know he doesn’t.”

My dad pursed his lips. “Are you sure you don’t want me to call your mother?”

“No, because that would be implying that I like him. And I don’t.”

“Okay, then. Well…how do you know he doesn’t actually like you?”

“Because he doesn’t really like anyone. Not in that way, at least. It’s just who he is.”

“And why don’t you like him?”

“Because of who he is.”

My dad chuckled. “Who is he, then?”

“He’s…” I ran a hand through my hair. “He’s just this…idiot.” My dad looked at me funny. I sighed again and organized my words better. “He’s just bad. Like, not Darth Vader bad, but—you know. And, I mean, I’m no prize piece myself. I go to sleep an hour after I’m supposed to and almost never do any chores around here. I’m in no position to act like I’m better than him, but—” I ran out of words to describe it, so I just raised both of my hands, formed them to look as if I were clawing at something, and just sat that way. “He’s just this big pain in the ass, you know?”

My dad took another bite out the dessert in front of us as he processed my words. “So basically…you don’t like him. You’re sure he doesn’t like you—”

“In the way he acts like he does,” I cut in. “And we can’t be friends because I already plotted his death fifteen different ways.”

Another long pause. My dad was growing confused and I couldn’t even blame him. “I don’t know what to tell you, kid.” He drummed his fingers along the counter. “They never show these kinds of things on Law & Order.”

I smiled then, not being able to help it. “Well, thanks for trying,” I said, getting up from my chair and tossing the fork I’d used into the sink. “But I’m sure it doesn’t even matter, though. It’ll probably blow over if I wait long enough.”

I just hope I was right.

* * *

When I awoke the next day, I remained in bed for a few minutes as I contemplated the idea of skipping school. It was tempting, but not enough. With a groan, I climbed out from under my comforter to get dressed. In fifteen minutes time, I clambered down the stairs, my head lolling back as I fought off the remaining embers of lethargy still in my system.

In the kitchen, I found my mother drinking a clear glass of orange juice and reading her thick Cosmo magazine at the table. My father was leaning against the counter using his phone, and from the sound effects the device was making and the look of frustration on his face I could tell he was playing on an app.

Dropping my bag onto the table, I stole a sip of my mother’s juice when she set it down. I had been in the process of making my way toward my dad to steal his toast when a noise outside brought me to a brief pause. A second later, I realized it was the sound of a car pulling up in front of the house.

Reaching over to grab a piece of bread off my father’s plate, I brought the food to my mouth as I peered out the small window in the kitchen.

And then the toast slipped from my fingers and onto the counter.

“Whoa—hey! Did you just—” my dad started, but then cut himself off when he saw my face. “Are you alright?”

The noise outside suddenly died down, and my father noticed it. He shifted backward from where he stood and glanced through the window, and his mouth parted and his eyebrows rose at what he saw.

“What? Is it the mailman?” my mother asked. She dropped her magazine and raised her hands to pat her head. “How’s my hair?”

My dad turned to give her an amused look. “Your boyfriend isn’t here—but I think someone else’s is…”

His eyes swiveled to me, and I could see in them that he was remembering the conversation we’d had the night before. I opened my mouth to say something—anything—but just as the words began to tumble out, my mom was suddenly there, pushing past my dad and I to press her face against the window.

“Ooh,” she let out.

My dad’s attention shifted away, and I didn’t waste any time. At the sound of a door slamming, I sprung into action by wringing my arm through my bag and sprinting to the front door at what I felt was lightening speed. Skidding to a halt on the porch, I was greeted with the sight of Jesse walking up the path to my house with his car parked just behind him. He stopped when he saw me, a sly smile gracing his lips.

“Stalking is illegal.”

He rolled his eyes. “Stalking is a bit extreme, isn’t it?”

I spared a second from responding to glance to the side where the kitchen window was, and then bit hard into my lip when I saw the curtains shifting from where my parents were spying. The anxiety creeping up on me was going to make me reply to Jesse in a nasty tone, but then at the last second, a thought crossed my mind.

I’d lied to him. I remember I had taken the initiative the day before and told him I lived in a different house when he’d dropped me off. Why was he—

And then I saw it. Zack, true to his word, had parked my car in the driveway.

“Son of a bitch,” I muttered under my breath.

Jesse followed my gaze to where my car was and gave me a disapproving look. “Lying isn’t a nice quality, Carson.”

“Oh, you’re one to talk,” I shot back at him. “You said if I let you give me a ride home you wouldn’t bother me anymore.”

“I say a lot of things,” Jesse said.

“Of course you do.”

“And besides, I had my fingers crossed.”

“You little shi—”

Whatever I had been about to say faded off and into the wind when I heard the front door of my house open and close behind me. And then I felt my body relax and my confidence shoot up when I looked over and saw my dad standing beside me.

I smiled and crossed my arms, relishing in the backup.

“What’s your name?” my dad asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously at the boy in front of us.

I was only a little surprised when Jesse dropped the smug smile he’d had on display for me and became a whole different person altogether in the presence of the much older, male version of me. “I’m Jesse,” he said in a charming tone. He even went so far as to extend out of his hand. I stared at the contact he made with my father with wide eyes.

When their hands dropped, my panic began to rise when I saw that my father’s shoulders weren’t as tense as they were just a moment before. He gestured to the car parked on the side of road. “Camaro, huh?”

Jesse nodded.

“What year?”

“‘69. Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” my father chuckled. “Have you had it for long?”

“I’ve just had for a year now. But it’s been in the family for a while. It was my dad’s before it was mine.”

My father had that excited gleam in his eyes. I cut in before he could dare ask if he could take it for a ride. “I’m going to be late for school. You should go back inside”—I turned to Jesse—“and you should leave.”

Jesse tilted his head with a look of innocence. “I drove all the way over here to drive you, though.”

I scowled. “You can drive to hel—”

“Just go, kid.” I whirled my head to my father so fast it was a wonder I hadn’t snapped my own neck. He was already looking back at Jesse, oblivious to the I’m-going-to-seriously-hurt-you look I was shooting at him. “So long as you bring her right back after school.”

“Of course,” Jesse said to him.

And that was all it took. My father patted my back and retreated into the house, more than likely running to the kitchen once the door shut to share what he’d learned with my mother at the window.

My eyes shifted back to Jesse. “You sneaky bastard.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You just put on the charm for my dad—and it worked.”

“Oh, come on.” He smiled. “He’s easy to talk to—and he’s cool. If there was charm, it wasn’t on purpose.”

This guy is playing dirty. Maybe I should have accepted the offer last night to call Darren down from school. If anyone was capable of seeing Jesse in his real light, it was him.

Focusing on the matter at hand, I pulled my car keys out from my pocket. “I’m not going with you,” I said.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t even know what you want from me!”

“It’s a bit obvious by now, don’t you think?” I stared at him for a long moment. He laughed. “I didn’t realize it was illegal to want to be friends.”

“I didn’t realize it was a thing to force friendship on other people.”

“Forcing is a bit much,” he said, and I very nearly socked him in the face because of it. “You like me. You just don’t want to admit it yet.”

“You’re delusional.”

“No, just hopeful.”

“And persistent as hell.”

Jesse gave me a look. “How about we continue talking about this on the way to school? You don’t want to be late, do you?”

I didn’t want to be late, but I also didn’t want to get in his car, either. I seriously considered just ignoring him and climbing into mine, but some small part of me kept from deciding to do it. I didn’t know if it was because my parents were watching, or because I felt inclined to accept Jesse’s offer if it meant saving money on gas—but I closed my fist around my car keys either way, and shouldered past Jesse to the passenger side of his car.

On the way to school, I kept my head turned toward the window, but not even my temper could keep me from wanting to marvel at the car I was sitting in. It was a manual, the seats were made of fine leather, and whenever the car sped up it made such beautiful sounds.

I wouldn’t admit as much to Jesse, though. He’d already captured my father’s heart with it, and if he even for a second thought that mine worked the same way, he was in for a rude awakening.

“Can you tell me what you really want from me now?”

I noticed Jesse glance over at me from the corner of my eye, and I turned to him just as he looked back to the road. The smile he had on his lips was a half one. “Let’s not kill the suspense yet,” he said.

“So there’s suspense now. Great.”

I was left to wonder on my own. I seriously doubted friendship was what Jesse wanted. I’d never known him to be associated with girls in any other way. And aside from that, even if he did want to be friends, I’d made it clear enough that I didn’t want that. All I wanted was for him to leave me alone.

And I think that was when it occurred to me.

I was driving to school with Jesse.

Who, need I remind myself, was still with Lauren.

The thought washed over me like a bucket of ice-cold water, and I sat up in my seat, imagining how quickly she’d hear that I had hitched a ride with her boyfriend while she had to get to school on her own. Never mind that, I knew Jesse would park his car toward the front of the school—where crowds of students would see me and spread rumors.

I looked up, and my throat tightened. “Stop the car,” I said.

Jesse glanced at me, confused. “Why?”

“Just do it.”

Still bewildered, he pulled to the side of the road just a block away from the school. Before the car could come to a complete stop though, I was already gathering my bag and opening the door. But before I could escape, I felt Jesse’s hand latch onto my arm. “What are you doing?”

“I can walk the rest of the way from here.”

“Why? I can the drive the rest of the way—”

“I know. I just can’t get off with you.”

His eyebrows rose in disbelief. “What?”

“I can’t have people seeing me with you.”

“You can’t have people seeing you with me?”

I nodded. “Exactly. You’ll understand when you see Lauren.”

That made him let go, and I jumped out of the car and onto the sidewalk before he could compose himself. And then I shut the door and walked the short distance to the school on my own.