I walk away and push through the crowd to get to the front door. As soon as I step outside, the chilly January air nips at my skin. It dawns on me that Carter drove us here, but I'd rather get frostbite from walking than wait for him so we can leave.
Just as I start heading toward campus, the door opens behind me.
"Jace," Paige calls.
I tuck my hands in my pockets and keep going, but it doesn't look like she plans on giving up any time soon.
"Jace!"
Stopping in my tracks, I don't turn around, but apparently she doesn't need me to. I can hear her walk up behind me, but she stops just before she gets too close. Even so, I can smell her from here. The same perfume she's always worn, infiltrating my senses and making it hard to think straight.
"Talk to me. Please?"
A dry laugh bubbles out of me as I spin to face her. "Oh, so now you want to talk? It's a little late for that."
"That's fair," she says, nodding. "But we've known each other for how long? You really want to throw all that away?"
"I didn't throw anything away, Paige. That was all you."
"I'm sorry." Her tone is a pleading one, but it gets no sympathy from me. "You can't hate me forever."
Smiling deviously, I stand firm. "That sounds a lot like a challenge."
She looks down as a single tear escapes and wraps her arms around herself, shivering from the cold.
I raise a single brow. "Wow. I didn't think you got cold. I mean, being such a frigid bitch and all, I thought you'd be used to it."
That one brings out the Paige I remember. The one that would hit someone for saying something like that to her. Man, she was ruthless and took no mercy, but something is different about her. Unfortunately for her, I don't care to figure out what it is.
Confident that she isn't going to follow me again, I turn back around and continue my trek back to campus.
"You're just going to walk away?"
I hold up a single middle finger. "You taught me how."
I storm back into the party, pushing people out of my way with a little more force than necessary. A dozen dirty looks are tossed my way, but I don't care. The only thing I can focus on is getting the hell out of here.
The second he sees me digging through the pile of coats in the corner, Carter comes rushing over. He tries to grab my arm, only for me to rip it away.
"Stop!" I shout. "You were wrong! You were fucking wrong, Carter!"
He shakes his head. "No, I swear I wasn't."
Looking at him in disbelief, I start to throw my jacket on. "You weren't? How can you even say that? He all but told me he wishes I was dead. I hurt him, Carter. He doesn't want to talk to me!"
"He needs to, though!" he argues back. "Just keep trying. He's bound to crack eventually."
Crack? He wants to talk about cracking? My entire life is hanging by a thread, and the last thing I need is to be dealing with Jace breaking my heart for sport every chance he gets. Sure, maybe I deserve a bit of it. After all, I must have hurt him more than I thought, if he's still holding this strong of a grudge, but there's only so much I can take.
"I can't. I'm sorry."
Just as I go to leave, Carter steps in front of me with a look of desperation in his eyes. "Please," he begs. "He really needs this."
Just the look on his face is enough to make my stomach churn, but I can't give him an answer right now. "I'll text you. I have to get out of here."
He nods and moves out of my way without another word.
THE WHOLE NIGHT IS spent tossing and turning. I can't count the number of times I have run everything through my mind. The good times, the bad, the argument we had tonight. It's all on a constant loop, and my brain just can't seem to shut off enough for me to get a wink of sleep.
By the time the sun comes up, I don't even try anymore. I throw on a pair of sweats and mentally thank God that it's Saturday, and I don't have to attempt to sit through a bunch of lectures. Not that I would be able to focus then either. I damn near walk into a wall because apparently, nothing seems to matter right now that isn't Jace.
I make my way downstairs to find my mom in the living room, folding laundry. It's an odd sight to see, if I'm honest. While I was growing up, we always had staff that would take care of the housework. The laundry. The dishes. The cooking. The cleaning. It was never something we needed to do ourselves. After my dad got sick, however, my parents decided it would be best to let all the staff go. For one, there are doctors and nurses that come in and out throughout the day, making sure he's as comfortable as possible. My dad was adamant about my mom not doing anything for him that would change their relationship as husband and wife. And for another, he didn't want an audience watching him die. He just wants to spend his final days with those most important around him. So, my mom folds the laundry.
"Do you even know how to do that?" I tease.
She looks up at me, as if she's surprised I'm awake, and then sticks her tongue out. "It's folding laundry, Paige, not sewing clothes from scratch."
I walk around the couch and take a seat across from her. I'm sure I don't have to help, but it doesn't hurt to get it done a little sooner. Maybe then she can spend some more time with Dad. Or maybe she uses this as a distraction, and Lord knows I could use one of those.
"How was the party last night?"
I shrug. "It was all right, I guess. How was Dad?"
Before I left, I almost decided not to go. My dad was having one of his coughing fits that just wouldn't stop, and my mom needed to call the doctor to get him to bring something over for it. Instead of staying home, though, my mom insisted that getting out of the house during that was the best thing for me, and I can't say I disagree.
"Oh, the doctor came over and fixed him right up," she answers, smiling—but it's not genuine.
I drop what's in my hands. "Mom, you don't need to do that."
"Do what?"
"Pretend everything is fine. I'm not a little girl anymore."
She sighs and reaches over to run a hand over my cheek. "I know you're not, baby. But you're still my little girl, and I worry about what all this is doing to your mental health."
I shake my head. "It sucks. I'm not going to say it doesn't. But you don't need to take everything on by yourself. I'm here. I'm right here."
"Paige."
"No. You need to stop looking at me like this fragile little thing."
She stays still for a moment, before finally nodding. "You're right. I'm sorry."
My shoulders sag in relief. "So, how is Dad? For real this time."
"It took a while to get it to stop, and his oxygen dropped dangerously low," she explains. "But the doctor got it to stop. It went back up quickly, and he said that there shouldn't be any neurological deficits. He left more of the medicine with me, but if it happens again, he might need to be intubated."
"He's in hospice. Would they even do that?"
She looks down and subtly shakes her head. "I don't think so. His medical directive is very clear when it comes to machines. He doesn't want to be kept alive if he's suffering, and that includes intubation."
I'm not going to lie; this is all hard to hear. And maybe I shouldn't have asked for her to be so candid with me, but I'm not about to take it back now. My parents have been in love for as long as they can remember, and when the day comes where my dad leaves this earth, it's my mom who is going to be the most broken. And it will be me who keeps her whole.
"Well, one of these days, you are going to take a break, and I'll take over for a bit." It's not a request, but more of a demand.
She snickers through her obvious despair. "That would be great, sweetie. Thank you."
OKAY, SO MAYBE I underestimated the amount of time it would take to fold four loads of laundry. And maybe my mom waited way too long to do this laundry in the first place, because I've never seen so much in my life. I feel like we've been folding forever, when it's probably only an hour in reality, but my God.
My phone start
s to ring underneath a pile of clothes, and my mom shrieks as I almost topple our piles while trying to find it. In all actuality, I probably should have just kept it lost, because seeing Carter's name on the screen doesn't bring any happy feelings.
I press answer and put it on speaker. Mistake number one.
"Hey, Carter."
He sounds like he just woke up. "Well, if it isn't my favorite Haven Grace Prep cheerleader."
I roll my eyes. "You're confusing me and Savannah."
"Okay, fair," he laughs. "But in my defense, she didn't graduate as a cheerleader, so she doesn't count."
"Oh, so you admit she's your favorite? Great. Call her."
I hang up the phone, and my mom chuckles under her breath. In true Carter fashion, it rings again.
"Why do I not just send you to voicemail?" I ask.
"Because I'm secretly your best friend." The confidence in his tone is alarming.
I hum. "Becca would probably have something to say about that."
"I'm her best friend, too."
"No, no," I argue. "That position is taken, thank you very much."
He murmurs something to someone in the background, and then comes back to me. "Okay, fine. Listen, I don't have long to talk, but I just wanted to let you know that Jace is going to be home alone all day."
My brows furrow. "Uh, did I become his keeper without my knowledge?"
"No, but if you wanted another chance to talk to him, there doesn't get one better than that."
"I don't know," I say, which is a lie. I do know—I don’t want another round with Jace’s vicious mouth.
He sighs. "Listen, just think about it. I'll leave my key with the front desk so you can get in without him needing to open the door."
"Carter, I don't think—"
"I know," he cuts me off. "But please. I'm not kidding when I say he needs you. He really does. He just doesn't know it right now. And I'd feel a lot better knowing someone was checking on him."
Without giving me the chance to respond, he hangs up. I toss the phone back into my lap and go back to folding laundry, while my mom just stares at me.
"What?"
"Well?" She looks way too intrigued. "Are you going to go?"
"No," I answer, as if it's obvious. "It's not a good idea. Carter might think it is, but it's not."
I go to grab another towel to fold when a throw pillow hits me over the head. I look up in disbelief.
"What was that for?" I gasp.
She crosses her arms over her chest. "Go help Jace."
There is a part of me that wants to, there really is. But I can't. He obviously doesn't want me anywhere near him, and while Carter thinks he knows best, he might not with this. Jace has never been the kind of person who shies away from saying what's on his mind. If he wanted to be around me, he would be. Hell, it's not like I've been trying to avoid him.
"I can't, Mom," I tell her. "There's a lot that happened between us. A lot you don't know."
She stares at me like I'm an idiot. "You mean how you two were hooking up for half your senior year and the whole summer after?"
My eyes widen, and my jaw drops just slightly, but I can't find the words to answer her.
"You're not as sly as you think you are." She goes back to folding like she didn't just admit to knowing her precious daughter was having sex with one of her best friends for months. "So you two had a bad breakup. It happens. You just need to get past it."
"It's just not that simple. That's all."
I try to let the topic die, but as I go to grab another thing out of the basket, she slaps the top of my hand. I yank it away and rub off the sting of her touch.
"Go help Jace."
Okay, so much for being an adult and making my own choices.
SURE ENOUGH, CARTER LEFT his key with the front desk, like he was positive I'd end up here no matter what I said. They hand it over, and I make my way up the stairs until I finally reach the top floor. A part of me thought their dorms would be a lot fancier. After all, they lived in a penthouse together while they were in Florida. Seeing them living like regular college students feels weird, and so unlike them.
I stick the key in the lock and open the door quietly, but there's no need. Jace is sitting on the couch with his back facing the door, but he doesn't even need to turn around to know who it is.
"You just don't quit, do you?" he asks.
Swallowing down my nerves, I tell myself that this is the time I hold my ground. "Nope."
"Get out, Paige."
I slam the door behind me, but I'm not going anywhere. He turns around to see if I've left, only to find me standing there looking back at him.
He rolls his eyes and gets up. "Fine, then; I'll leave."
Before he can walk out the door, I press myself against it. He looks me up and down, but it's not at all the way he used to. This version of him is angry. I don't think there is a single ounce of the guy I remember.
"Move," he demands.
I hold my head high to meet his gaze. "No."
In an instant, he slams his hand against the wood and gets in my face. I flinch for a second at the sudden movement, but I'm not going to let him win. Not this time. Besides, it's not like Carter will leave me alone until I actually get him to talk to me.
"What the hell are you trying to pull, huh?" he sneers. "Why don't you just go back to wherever you fucked off before?"
The question itself stings, because he has no idea how much I wish I could do exactly that. How much I wish that the circumstances that brought me back to North Haven weren't a thing happening in my life.
"Sit down, Jace."
He snorts, as if I just made a joke. "You're not my mother."
A smirk makes its way to my face. "Maybe not, but I do remember how much your mom loved me. How about I call her? Let her know I'm here and that we should all get together. Wouldn't that be nice?"
My determination catches him off guard, and he backs away just enough for me to breathe my own air again. "You wouldn't."
"Try me." I cross my arms over my chest. "Sit down, Jace."
With a huff, he turns around and goes back over to the couch. "Fine, but don't expect me to talk. You want to sit here in silence all damn day, suit yourself. I don't want to hear a word come out of your mouth."
Okay, so maybe it's not exactly a win, but it's something. And besides, Carter wanted someone to keep an eye on him. If that's the most I accomplish while being here, so be it.
"Davi, calm down!" I call, but that only pisses her off.
"Calm down?" she balks. "You want me to calm down? You didn't hear what he said to me back there!"
Pinching the bridge of my nose between my thumb and index finger, I take a deep breath. "So why don't you tell me instead of screaming at me like I'm the one who pissed you off?"
"No, because you'll just make excuses for him. He's your best friend."
"I won't."
She looks me in the eyes, and I watch some of the tension drain as her shoulders settle. Taking a step forward, she grips the bottom of my T-shirt and bites her lip.
"I should just leave him," she whispers. "Then the two of us could be together. We could be so happy."
The way she's staring up at me is like she's begging to be kissed. Her plump lips are right there, and so much of me wants to press my own against them, but I can't. Reluctantly, I grab her wrists and remove her hold.
"You know that can't happen," I tell her softly and tuck a stray hair behind her ear. "I can't do that to him."
It happens so fast I don't even have a chance to stop it. Her brows knit together and her jaw locks as she winds up and slaps me right across the face.
I jolt awake to the stinging pain in my cheek, only to realize that it was a dream. However, instead of her hand hitting me in the face, it was a ball—thrown by my douche of a best friend. Granted, it was a nerf ball, so it's not causing any serious damage, but there are nicer ways to wake up.
Carter stands in the doorway with
his arms crossed against his chest and a shit-eating grin on his face. I sit up, running my fingers through my hair.
"Really asshole?" I grumble. "A simple “Wake up, Jace” would have sufficed."
He chuckles and shakes his head. "You told me not to come in your room anymore, so I had to figure out how to wake you up from here."
Okay, so maybe I said that, but that's only because his tendency to go through my shit is getting irritating. If he would learn to keep his hands to himself and not dig through my stuff, we would have no problems.
I flip him the bird and pull a t-shirt on. Carter only steps out of my way so I can leave the room, but he's clearly not going to leave me alone this morning. I head for the coffee pot, the only salvation I'm going to find after not falling asleep until sometime after three. My insomnia just would not let me rest. It's like it needed me to stay awake or the whole damn world would end.
"So, you must have had a fun day yesterday," he murmurs. "I have to say, I was pretty surprised to see Paige asleep on our couch when I got home."
Chuckling sarcastically, I roll my eyes. "No you weren't. You and I both know you sent her here to babysit my ass."
His jaw drops and he clutches his metaphorical pearls. "Moi? I did no such thing."
"She had a key, asswipe."
It's not that having her here was the worst thing in the world, even though the two of us literally didn't say a single word to each other. It was honestly kind of nice, not being alone all day like I expected. However, there's no chance in hell I'm admitting that to him. He'll think that his meddling in my life is okay. It's not, and neither is Paige's.
I pour the steaming hot coffee into the cup and blow on it as I walk toward the bathroom to shower. Just as I get to the door though, Carter snickers.
"I may have had something to do with her being here, but I don't think that blanket magically floated out of our closet and covered her on its own."
My jaw clenches, and it takes everything in me not to react as I shake my head and step into the bathroom.
Change My Game: An Emotional Second Chance Romance (North Haven University Book 2) Page 5