by Randi Rigby
I should’ve been cramming stuff into my suitcase, Jack would be here any minute, but I sat on the bed, a pile of clothes in my arms, and listened to every beautiful word he sang. “Have I told you lately that I love you, Drew Jarrod?” I said with a wobbly smile when the last note faded.
“Every time you look at me. Come here.” He buried my head in his chest. “Go. Be beautiful and smile pretty for the camera, Kel. I’ll be right here when you get back.”
The doorbell rang.
“That’ll be Jack.” I wiped my eyes on my sleeve. “I still need to change. Will you tell him I’ll be out in ten?”
Quickly, I finished packing and changed out of my grass-stained clothes into an outfit I could sleep in but still walk off a plane the next morning looking ready to go. I’d fix my hair in the airport.
“That’s it?” Jack said with a raised eyebrow when I wheeled out my carry-on and tote. “No homework this trip?”
“Not this time. I’m actually caught up for once.” Mostly because I’d planned on spending every free moment I had with Drew over the holiday weekend.
“Great. We might actually make weight for once.” He took my case from me and left so Drew and I could say good-bye.
“Drew.”
“Yeah, I know. Me too.”
I kissed him and handed him a hastily scrawled note. “For your mom. Tell her I’m sorry about dinner?”
“I will. Be safe, Chicago. Text me when you land.”
It was very quiet in the car. Jack wasn’t talking as he steered us toward the airport. After a bit I finally said, “So, did you get to eat enough of your mom’s turkey?”
“Don’t.”
I looked over at him in surprise. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t feel guilty. Don’t apologize.”
I rested my head against the passenger window and reluctantly smiled. “You mean don’t be me?”
“Exactly.”
“Are you mad at me, Jack?”
He sighed. “Did you hear anything I just said?”
For the first time since we’d flown together, Jack drank. “Hydrating,” he said when he ordered his third whiskey. “You should try it sometime, Kel.” And he downed the entire contents and grimaced. The flight attendant was still smiling at him. Maybe this wasn’t unusual after all.
“Just water for me, please.”
“She really likes water,” Jack grinned.
He followed me off the plane at JFK where we were catching our connecting flight. While we were waiting to board he flirted with an Australian woman with big, brown eyes and a broad smile. Jack was a surfer. Who knew? “We should get a picture of this, right Kel?” He pulled me out of my book. “She’s a model,” he said to his new friend.
“Hi, I’m Kel.” I waved awkwardly. I didn’t know what else to do.
“Donna. Nice to meet you.”
“Is this your first trip to Italy, Donna?” I asked.
Jack was hanging his head in his hands. “No. I’ve been there a few times,” she said. “You?”
“It’s my first time. I’ve heard it’s incredible. I’m excited to see it for myself.”
“She’s a model,” Jack reasserted.
“A model?” Donna said politely since this was obviously the direction Jack wanted the conversation to go. “What’s that like then?”
I hesitated. Breezy answer or truth? I doubted I’d ever meet her again. I took a deep breath and smiled. “You said you love to surf, Donna? I’m sorry, I was eavesdropping earlier. Did you always know you wanted to surf?”
“Yeah. I grew up on the Gold Coast. It’s kind of a way of life there. I’ve been surfing for as long as I can remember, maybe as soon as I could walk. It’s just what we do.”
“Sounds amazing. I grew up in Chicago—big lake, no ocean. No one I knew surfed. Wanting to surf never even crossed my mind. Modeling is kind of like that for me. The fact that I’m here, sitting in an airport, ready to fly to Milan because someone thinks my long legs and face work for their look still feels so unexpected and strange.”
Jack chuckled. “You should see her in a swimsuit.”
Donna stared at him and then me with obvious confusion. I ignored him and smiled at her. “What’s the Gold Coast like? I’ve always wanted to go to Australia.”
By the time our zone was called and I got Jack settled in his seat on the plane I was genuinely worried for him. He’d wandered off to the bar just across from our gate while Donna and I were chatting. He was moving a little slower and sloppier now and his speech was starting to slur.
“Has the flight attendant come by with drinks yet?” He wanted to know.
“I think you’ve had enough.”
“Cutting me off, Kel?”
“I am. You’ll thank me tomorrow. Try and get some sleep, Jack. We’ve got a full day ahead of us.”
He reached out and grabbed my wrist. “Don’t leave me,” he mumbled. His fingers sought out the solidness of my arm, just like I did to him in the hotel that night in New York. And suddenly I realized as he drifted off to sleep that he was hurting and lonely. And I was clueless.
13
“Girls just want to have fun”
Cyndi Lauper
“Who is Ava Caffrey?” Becca demanded Tuesday morning as she pushed into chemistry and dropped her books with a loud thud onto the countertop of our station. “She’s after your boyfriend.”
I was jet-lagged and nursing a pounding headache. “Take it down a notch,” I begged. “And don’t be ridiculous. Her mom is dating my dad. Of course she knows Drew.”
Becca climbed onto her stool and blinked at me. “You’re wearing glasses.”
“My eyes were too dry for contacts this morning.”
“Can you still see in those things?”
“Of course I can.”
“Really? Because I think you might be blind. Did you see her Instagram posts from Drew’s tournament over the weekend?”
“Okay. She likes him. Happy now?”
“Are you?”
“I’m not worried if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Where were you when she was taking all these selfies with Drew? You didn’t answer any of my texts.”
I took a restorative swig from my water bottle. “I was on a plane. Coming back from Milan.”
“Seriously?” Becca’s eyes widened. “When did that happen? You didn’t say a word about a trip to Italy before the break.”
“It was very last minute. I had to work. They don’t celebrate Thanksgiving in Italy.”
Mr. Franz walked in just as the second bell rang. “I need details,” Becca whispered, reaching for her safety goggles.
So did Kirstie. I was weighing the opportunity to legitimately wriggle out of Tony’s grasp against having to sit in the same room with Jack for any extended period of time when she told me she expected to see me in her office promptly at 4:30.
Fueled by the green vegetable power smoothie Becca humanely brought me after school and several doses of ibuprofen I slunk into Adderson’s wishing I could just curl up on one of those overstuffed white chairs and hibernate. “Rough trip?” Rosie said sympathetically, handing me a glass of ice water.
“You have no idea. Thanks Rosie, you’re a lifesaver.”
Jack walked in looking damaged and wearing dark sunglasses, even his scruff was bedraggled. He winced noticeably when Rosie greeted him with her usual loud enthusiasm. “Sorry. Wow. You guys look awful.” You could always count on Rosie for the unblemished truth. That was something we used to laugh about.
He slowly removed his glasses and took a seat across from me. “Kel.”
Now we were talking? I crossed my legs and folded my arms. “Jack.”
“There’s my power couple. Come on in you two,” Kirstie beamed. “Sit down. I know, those transatlantic flights are the worst. So, tell me all about it. I want to hear everything.”
I moistened my lips and avoided looking at Jack. “I think it went well. The Bentha people see
med really happy with my work. They even invited Jack and me to their afterparty. And it was pretty exclusive.”
“Good. I hope you got some great footage.”
Jack cleared his throat. But before he was able to make a full confession I interrupted him. “We did.” I handed her my tablet. “I couldn’t sleep on the flight home so I got a head start putting it together. I’m sure it’ll be much better after Jack’s final edit but I think you can get a fairly good idea of where we were going with it.”
Jack stared at me as Kirstie watched the series of videos I’d filmed of my trip while he was out being a total jackass. “This is great. How soon can we have it up?” she asked Jack as she handed me back my tablet.
“I can have it online tonight,” he finally replied.
“Good. Sounds like the trip was a resounding success.”
“I think it was. We learned a lot, didn’t we Jack?”
He silently nodded. The moment we were outside of Adderson’s I handed him my tablet. He already had my password. “I’m sorry, Kel,” he said.
“Good. You should be. I didn’t deserve that, Jack. Don’t do it again.”
Drew was waiting for me at home. He had a code to our front door so he could just let himself in. “Hey babe.” He kissed me and took my face in his big hands. “You look exhausted. You sure you don’t want to just crawl into bed and crash?”
“My body is so messed up, Drew. I need you to help me stay up until at least 7:00.”
“Come on.” He threaded his fingers through mine. “I’ve got A Christmas Story ready to go, popcorn made, and all the ice water you could possibly want.”
I curled up on the couch next to him and Charlie, who was always down for popcorn and a movie. “I should be studying for calculus right now,” I sighed. “But I just don’t have the brain cells for it.”
“So, let it go.” He put his arm around me and kissed the top of my head as we settled in amongst the cushions.
My eyes flew open when the alarm system indicated the garage door had opened with a discreet but audible beep. “Well, well, look who’s awake. Hey beautiful,” Drew moved my hair out of my face. I was lying on top of him next to Charlie, who leaned over and promptly licked my now uncovered nose.
Blinking, I found my glasses—which Drew must’ve taken off—and my phone. It was 6:37. “You let me fall asleep?”
“Hey, I tried. Electric shock wouldn’t have kept you up, Kel. You were practically in a coma.”
“Glad you’re still here Drew,” Dad said, walking into the living room from the kitchen already loosening his tie and carrying a plastic bag that was bulging with little white boxes. “I went a little crazy with my Thai order. Can you stay for dinner?”
“Sorry, wish I could—that smells amazing—but my mom has to work the late shift at the hospital tonight. I’m needed at home.”
“You hungry Kel?”
“Not really. But Charlie is.” I got out of his way as I sat up and stretched.
Drew took out his phone and opened his Instagram. “I took a picture of us while you slept. I hope that’s okay. I kind of wanted to make a statement just to keep things crystal clear.”
I looked at the picture he’d posted of me snuggled up against his chest, my long, blonde hair splayed everywhere. When the girl you love falls asleep in your arms it’s a good day. #jetlagged #sleepingbeauty #luckyman
“Where was Charlie?”
“He left for a stretch. UPS delivered a package—they must’ve left it on the front porch. I think he went to investigate.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “So, Milan? You still haven’t told me much about Italy.”
“There’s not much to tell. It was mostly work, hotel, work, airport. Jack and I got invited to a party after the show. He drank too much and chased anything in a skirt. I learned how to say ‘I have a boyfriend’ in Italian. We were a big hit. Sorry about Ava. Was that uncomfortable?”
“Not really. The guys gave me a hard time. You have to walk a thin line with her—nice, but not so nice she gets the wrong idea. I think she just wanted her friends to see she knew a senior from a different school.”
“A hot senior,” I teased.
He grinned. “Well, yeah.”
Tony had his eyes on the prize. With less than two weeks before my Fit shoot and me in New York a couple of times a week now, he was pushing me fiercely every chance he got. Jack no longer came to watch, things between us had settled into brisk professionalism and brief communication. It was almost too bad. He would’ve appreciated this moment.
“Move!” Tony barked. He’d been spitting in my face for almost three hours. My muscles were trembling. I was dehydrated and having difficulty performing at the same proficiency level as fatigue took over. At some point I was at high risk for injury—I was a dancer. I’d had plenty of experience with this. But Tony wasn’t letting up. “Stop being so lazy!” he screamed at me amidst a stream of expletives.
I stopped cold. I’d always imagined my rant, when it finally came, would be much more powerfully delivered. But I could barely catch my breath. “You work for me.”
“What did you say?”
“I said: You. Work. For. Me.” I glared at him, gathering steam. “I am not lazy and I’ve put up with a lot of your crap because Kirstie’s right—you do get results. But here’s a newsflash for you Tony. I would work just as hard—maybe even harder—without all the shouting, cursing, and degrading insults. So either dial it down or I walk. I’m done for today.”
The impulse to text Jack on my way out was practically irresistible. And the fact that I didn’t only made me sad. It was at times like these, when I was out of my depth and floundering, that I really missed my mom and her pithy but compassionate wisdom the most. I think a guy loves me the way I love Drew. How can we still be friends? Because I miss him like crazy. And she would know. Me, I was at a loss.
He was at the Fit shoot. We started the second day at Barton, early, three hours before the first bell was scheduled to ring. Mrs. Gallins, our Head of School, gave her permission for us to shoot into the first hour of class if needed but no more. Talia, the chief photographer, had everything storyboarded. She knew exactly what she wanted and she was efficient with getting it. We wrapped fifteen minutes after the second bell rang.
“So this is Barton.” Jack stayed behind and waited for me to thank everyone, change back into my own clothes, and remove most of my make-up. He was leaning against a row of lockers in a now empty hall—even the crew had picked up all their equipment and left.
“In all its glory.” I was still sorting out my hair.
“I’m glad I saw you here. In your uniform. In this environment.”
“What? High school?”
“Yeah. High school.” He shook his head as he straightened up and pulled on his scruff. “It’s easier to picture you here, hauling around your stack of books.”
“I don’t actually haul them all. That’s what my locker’s for.”
“Right. And I’m keeping you from class. I should probably go before we both get detention.” He smiled at me, the first real smile I’d seen from him in a while. “Have a good day, Kel.”
“You too, Jack.” I watched him leave. He didn’t look back.
I slid into English Lit and ongoing drama. Blake had a girlfriend who just started at Barton. She’d only been here a couple of weeks. Her name was Giulia Altadora and she was tiny and dark and fiercely Italian. Whitney might’ve met her match. I’d already witnessed a couple of screaming matches between them in the parking lot and I was rarely here.
“You’re welcome,” Blake said softly in my ear, smirking as he watched me watching Whitney and crew coldly snub Giulia in class.
“You’re despicable.”
“Maybe I’m in love.”
He said it so seriously it stopped my blistering retort in its heated tracks. Was he?
“Are you?”
Blake’s grin curled. “Of course. Giulia’s a great girl.”
“Y
ou make my skin crawl.”
He laughed. “Works for me, Grace Kelly.”
At lunch I learned Becca’s stepfather was taking them to Bermuda over the Christmas break. “He thinks I should be grateful.” She scowled at her black bean and sweet potato chili and stabbed at it repeatedly with her fork.
“Aren’t you? It sounds amazing.”
“You know my skin only comes in two shades—white and extra crispy.”
“So, wear sunblock. And a big hat.”
“Right. Because every guy wants to hit that.”
I stopped doing my calculus homework. “Are you looking for a vacation romance?”
“Vacation. Gas station. Check-out line. At this point I’ll take whatever I can get.”
“Really, Bec?”
“Not everyone is meant for true love and a happy ending, Kel.”
“You can’t mean that.”
“I do.”
“Because you haven’t had a boyfriend in high school you think it’s going to be like this your whole life?” I shook my head. “Becca, we go to Barton. Our entire student body is less than 250. It’s a private school. This is not a cross-section of real life. The yin to your yang is out there. Don’t give up. And don’t settle. You, Becca Bryson, are meant for happy endings. Don’t you forget it.”
“Yes, mom.”
“I’m being serious.”
“I know you are.” Becca looked at me with real affection. “You’re doing that pointy thing.”
Sheepishly, I put my finger down. “Eat your chili.”
I hadn’t been to Strings in months. The shop was decorated for Christmas with enticing gift giving suggestions on display everywhere. Country Christmas music was playing softly in the background. Jesse was wearing a Santa hat at a jaunty angle on his grizzled, gray head and bent over an acoustic guitar, tuning it, when I walked in. Jesse was a Willie Nelson wanna be, even down to the long braids. He looked up and broke into a wide grin when he saw it was me. “Well, well, well, if it ain’t Ms. Kel McCoy. You’re certainly a sight for sore eyes, young lady. But if you’re looking for that man of yours pretty girl, you just missed him. He left to pick Daisy up from a birthday party about—what? Twenty minutes ago?” He looked at Hardy for confirmation.