by Rachel Jonas
I know he’s talking about himself, know he’s referring to how his lifestyle ultimately proved to be the death of us.
Without much thought going into the action, I place my hand on top of his, where it rests on my stomach.
“You always know what to say. Why is that?”
He chuckles softly and his breath moves strands of my hair across my neck, and then comes the spinetingling chill.
“Just saying what’s true,” he concludes.
I consider that, whether his words are true universally, or just from his perspective. I’ve never considered myself to be ‘one of the good ones’, mostly because I don’t exactly come from good stock.
An apple never falls far from the tree, right?
“Get some sleep,” he says quietly, easing my phone from where it’s locked in my fingers.
His weight covers me for a moment when he reaches across to place it on the nightstand and everything about him sends my mind into nostalgia overdrive. His scent, the feel of him.
We were good together once and I can’t make myself forget that, even with all the effort I’ve put forth.
He settles behind me again and I feel something I’ve lacked for a while now. Since Mom bailed, since Hunter was taken away.
Peace.
And … I missed this.
“Sleep,” he says again, just before yawning.
I lift my head when his arm replaces my pillow, and I already feel myself relaxing. Guess I needed this, needed him.
“Thank you for showing up,” I breathe against his skin. “Not many people do that for me.”
A soft kiss to the back of my shoulder comes before words, a declaration I would’ve known even if he never said it.
“I’ll always show up for you.”
Chapter 2
WEST
Something told me not to let Joss pick the music, but I fucking did it anyway. Should’ve gone with my gut.
When the hell did sad-girls-on-acoustic-guitars become a music genre, anyway? A montage of weak-ass breakup songs is the last thing I want to hear right now.
She’s been over at our place practically all day. After the bus brought us back to the school parking lot early this morning, she only went home long enough to drop off her things and check in with her parents. Then, half an hour later, security phoned to announce she was on her way up.
But in hindsight, if I’d known I’d be forced to listen to this shit at some point in the day, I would’ve removed her ass from our list of authorized visitors without hesitation. Friend or not.
Mostly, she hung with Dane, either in his room listening to music, or in the theater room binging bad reality TV. But when she got bored, she’d wander into Sterling’s space or mine to check in. She never pressed for conversation, though, which was a good thing because I had none.
My notifications had gone off nonstop from the time the game ended yesterday until a few hours ago, when I finally silenced them. The sudden explosion of interest had nothing to do with the team being one step closer to the championship. The vultures were hitting me up to be a part of the shitshow, to get the details everyone’s after. And their main question?
Why’d I post the video?
“Ready to talk?”
Joss’s voice drags me from my thoughts as I hit a left half a second after the light turns red.
“If I wanted to talk, I wouldn’t have left to get away from everyone,” I grumble, thinking of how she insisted on tagging along when I announced I’d be heading out for a drive.
“Didn’t get away from me,” she quips.
“Yeah, I noticed that.”
Hopefully, she hasn’t taken anything I’ve said in the last thirty-plus hours to heart. She knows I’m kind of an ass when I’m pissed. Well, more of an ass than usual.
“Fuck.”
Joss peers over when the word leaves my mouth, purely out of frustration.
“You know,” she says way too calmly, “I have her number if you want to call.”
My heart leaps when she offers, and I hate that it does. Still, I give nothing away. Instead, I press the button to crack my window a bit. Like it isn’t only forty-something degrees outside. It helps when anger suddenly makes my temp spike, though.
I fucked up. No one knows that better than me. Directly, indirectly, however you look at it, everything that happened is on me. Still, even with the bull that’s taken place since the video went live, my biggest regret right now has nothing to do with that. It’s got to do with those three stupid words I last spoke to Southside—‘You should go.’
Basically, I’m a dick who can’t seem to deviate from dick behavior.
“So … you want the number or not?”
A few seconds pass and I say nothing. But in true Joss-form, she grabs my phone, unlocks it because her nosey ass seems to always know my codes, then she puts Southside’s info in herself.
“There,” she huffs. “Now you have it for whenever you get your head out of your ass and man up to call this girl. And you better have some sort of monumental apology ready, because what the fuck, West? Have you lost your mind?” she scolds. “Not only is this about the sickest power play I’ve ever seen, but even if you don’t care about her, what about football? The state championship? Next year? The coaches at NCU are definitely gonna hear about it because everyone’s passing it around. There won’t be any hiding from this.”
“You don’t think I know that?” I snap, gripping the steering wheel tighter.
Her accusation, and the subsequent warning, make my jaw tick with rage but I hold my tongue from saying more. For fear of saying too much.
“Then why risk it? Just to continue whatever ridiculous game you have going with this girl?” Joss pauses to shake her head, radiating judgement from her seat. “I should’ve called you on your shit when this all started. Lord knows no one else has the balls to do it. If I had, instead of ignoring it, maybe you wouldn’t have possibly set your entire future on fire.”
She’s staring at the side of my face, full of anger she didn’t let show at the penthouse. There, she’d been neutral, probably feeling outnumbered with Dane and Sterling around, but there was no trace of her being reserved now. Guess I don’t have to wonder why she volunteered to join me for the ride. She wanted her chance to rip me a new one in private.
A heavy sigh leaves her mouth and she finally faces forward, but she’s still worked up.
“You’ve done some twisted shit before, West, but this is next level,” she continues. “And to think, I encouraged Blue to talk to you the other night! Because, silly me, I thought I knew you, thought you were decent. Never in a million years would I have imagined you could be so monumentally cruel! You’re—”
“Damn it, Joss! It wasn’t me!”
My voice reverberates in the car a moment after I yell the words. Then, we’re both unnaturally silent. No sound other than the wind that rushes in through the partially open window.
“Fuck!”
I’m not sure if I’m relieved or terrified having admitted it out loud. Maybe a little of both. I was supposed to keep my mouth shut. Swore I would, actually, but I feel myself unraveling more by the minute, knowing what everyone thinks of me. Knowing what Southside thinks of me.
“You’re telling the truth?”
“What the fu…” I catch myself when my temper flares again. “Yes, Josslyn Grace Francois, I’m telling you the fucking truth.”
In my peripheral, I see her point a finger when her head tilts.
“Nope, don’t do it,” she warns. “Don’t you dare ‘full-name’ me right now, West Xavier Golden! I’m not the one in hot water here!”
Dear, God. Deliver me from Joss. I don’t want the guilt of dumping her on the side of the road. So please, please, please let me find a safe, well-lit bus stop to ditch her before my patience runs out.
As if she just heard my thoughts, she rolls her eyes so dramatically I don’t have to look over to see it.
“Now,” she huff
s, “if it wasn’t you, who was it?”
“Don’t ask me that.”
“Are you kidding me? You have to tell someone! You can’t take the wrap for this.”
Staring at the road in the headlights, I zone out thinking of how this whole thing started from one careless decision made roughly a year and a half ago. That single incident gave the one responsible for the leak just enough leverage to keep me quiet.
“Why wouldn’t you want to clear your name? You have too much to lose if you don’t speak up, West.”
Joss is staring when I sigh and come to a grave realization, speaking it out loud. “I’ve got too much to lose if I do.”
The last human being on Earth I trust with my future has it right in the palm of her evil little hand, and there ain’t shit I can do about it.
I feel Joss staring again. “What aren’t you telling me?” she asks. “I mean, besides who’s behind this.”
My chest burns with rage, knowing I’m holding a secret for someone I hate. Not only aware of what it could cost me down the road, but … sure as shit of what it’s cost me already.
Who it’s cost me already.
No matter how hard I fight it, no matter how I try convincing myself it doesn’t matter, all I see when I close my eyes is Southside on the back of Ricky’s bike. Thanks to Pandora’s cronies stalking everyone like undercover paparazzi, none of us miss much of what others are up to. And in my case, I’m hyper-focused on Southside’s whereabouts.
If anyone knows I don’t have the right to feel a damn thing about where she is or what her next move is, it’s me. But still, I think about it. It’s kind of all I can think about.
Where’d he take her?
Did he touch her?
Would she fuck him to ease the pain I caused?
…Shit.
I can’t even remember how many times I’ve gone over the details of the other night. The argument that turned into the two of us naked, taking our frustration out on one another, desperate to see where we’d end up when the dust settled. But then, after my head clears and her lingering scent leaves me, after the feel of her skin wears off on my fingertips, I think of what I said when we were done.
I think of those words I wish I could take back.
What kind of fuck-up puts a girl out on her ass after she finally lets her guard down? Well, me on many occasions, but … never someone like her.
Never someone who matters.
This revelation—that she’s someone who matters to me—has me feeling sick to my stomach and raging with denial. All because it’s become clear why I shot myself in the damn foot when it was over. Mostly, it’s because I’m my father’s son and I’m cursed with a condition called asshole-ism. But it’s more than that.
While you’d think it would be Vin’s warning about her that had me screwed up in the head, it was actually my own words that did me in. When Southside showed up that night, I made a bold statement. I told her the only way people like us find the truth is in bed. And … let’s just say I found it. In fact, the truth spoke so loud and clear as I peered up at her, the emptiness in the center of my chest began to fade. It was at this exact moment that I sabotaged any chance I had by pushing her away.
Because I’m a self-destructive ass, just like my father.
His claim about Southside using me to hurt him is never far from my mind, but after what I experienced with her, when the walls between us came down, I believe whatever hidden agenda she may have had is null and void.
That is, if it ever existed at all.
A heavy sigh leaves me. With it, an acknowledgement of how thoroughly I’ve screwed things up. Leave it to me to finally convince the girl to show me her heart … and then crush it.
“West,” Joss says a bit more calmly this time, reminding me I have yet to respond. “What aren’t you telling me?” she repeats.
I haven’t even carried this secret long and, already, it’s wearing on me. Never one to care much what others think of my actions, this time is different. While most of the assholes who reached out through text or DM are giving me props for the stunt they think I pulled, they’re nonfactors. What does piss me off is that this whole thing has caused those who actually count to see me in a different light. My brothers, Joss, my mom.
Don’t even get me started on that conversation. There are just some things a mother should never know about her son, certain things she should never witness her son doing. So, I think it’s safe to say I probably won’t be able to look her in the eyes again until my kids graduate.
“West?” Joss says again, using that scolding tone Dane loves and thinks of as foreplay.
Me? Not so fond of it.
“If I tell you, and you breathe a word of it to anyone, Joss, I’m ruined. Not only will my life crumble, but … someone else’s, too.”
I feel her studying me, but my eyes never leave the road.
“Okay,” she says solemnly. “You have my word.”
Breathing deep and second-guessing the hell out of what I’m about to do, I just go for it.
“It was Parker,” I confess, feeling my heart race twice as fast.
Joss stares, taking several deep breaths. That usually means she’s trying desperately to hold her tongue.
“She sent a vague text before we left for regionals. Then another after we got to the hotel.”
“Didn’t she get the hint when you ended things at the Monster Bash?” Joss asks.
“This is Parker we’re talking about,” I answer with a sigh.
“Oh, right. Facts.”
“At first, she did only want to talk about us, but when I didn’t say what she wanted to hear, and when I pressed her to tell me what was up with the cryptic text she sent, she finally got to her point.”
“Which was?”
I glance over at Joss before answering her question as simply as I can. “She wanted to know what happened with Casey.”
Hearing me speak that name, Joss’s brow quirks just as I glance her way. It isn’t a name we say out loud often because it’s one of those things best left in the past where it belongs.
“How on Earth would Parker, of all people, find out something like that? Only me, Dane, and Sterling even know about it, right? I mean, aside from Casey herself, but she sure as hell wouldn’t tell anyone.”
When I don’t have a rebuttal to that, Joss reaches her own conclusion.
“Wait… Casey told?” she asks, sitting forward in her seat to shoot me a look.
I draw in a breath, ignoring how my chest tightens.
“They ran into each other recently. At least that’s the story Parker’s sticking to. She says Casey had a little too much to drink and told her everything.”
Joss falls back against her seat again, then says something unexpected.
“The party.”
I peer over. “What Party?”
“Casey’s nineteenth. The one I came back early from vacation to make it to,” she reminds me. “A bunch of the girls from the CP dance squad were invited. Also, most of Casey’s former squad-mates from Everly Prep, plus some of her college friends.”
The pieces are beginning to fall together.
“I didn’t even think anything of it at the time, but she and Parker were hanging pretty tight that night. And there was definitely tons of alcohol, so…”
I’m at a loss for words. Not that I had all that much to say before this conversation.
“I’m so sorry, West.” Joss’s hand lands on mine and she squeezes. “I know this is, like, a worst-case scenario for you.”
Everything I’d done until now had been to prevent fallout from a mistake I made so long ago. But with this info now in Parker’s hands, that may have all been for nothing. I can’t remember a time I’ve been more on edge.
I worked twice as hard on the field to create a safety net, hoping to secure my spot at NCU even if the truth about me and Casey one day came to light. More specifically, I wanted to keep it from getting to anyone on NCU’s athletic st
aff, because if that happens, I lose everything.
Me and all parties involved.
But the video of me and Southside’s out there now, which means it might all go up in smoke anyway.
“Why go through all this trouble?” Joss’s question has me revisiting the conversation from a couple nights ago and anger follows.
“The short answer? Because Parker’s a bitter-ass bitch,” I grumble.
There’s a stormy past between us, a ‘relationship’ with a foundation built on empty sex and empty words. Words void of feeling and sincerity on my part. The lack of an actual connection made it easy to miss that she’d fallen for me. Made it easy to ignore how using her, and then disregarding her completely, eventually broke her. She was never ‘good’ by any means, but Parker Holiday had definitely gone from bad to worse on my watch. I can own up to that.
“I still don’t understand,” Joss speaks up.
“What’s not to get? Parker has me by the fucking balls. End of story.”
“I know you’re telling the truth, so don’t take this the wrong way, but things still don’t add up,” Joss points out. “Like, how the hell did she end up with video footage of you and Blue? Was she planning that the whole time? Then again, I guess that doesn’t make sense, because you didn’t even know Blue was coming to your room.”
Joss is mostly rambling to herself now, trying to make sense of things. But lucky for her, Parker’s cocky ass answered most of these questions for me last night. Without hesitation, actually. Seemed she wanted to rub in the fact that she somehow managed to pull this whole thing off, and that there isn’t shit I can do about it.
“She screen-recorded a fucking video call,” I grumble, finally answering. “She stopped at the dresser on her way out of the room while I was busy talking to Southside. She set us up without me even realizing.”
Just thinking about how simple it all was, I’m pissed all over again. A few small tweaks to how things went down that night and I wouldn’t even be in this mess.
If only I’d thought to keep an eye on Parker while she got her shit out of my room.