“I don’t know if I want to be with him,” I say, my voice soft. Almost as if it doesn’t exist.
That’s how I feel when it comes to him. Online, on the phone, whatever, I exist. I’m in his world. In reality? Face to face? He runs. Avoids. Or says something shitty to make me run and avoid.
It sucks.
“Then maybe you shouldn’t respond to him at all,” Hayden says. “Maybe Gracie is right. You should ignore him.”
“I don’t know what I want,” I admit with a sigh.
My phone buzzes again and I glance down at it to find another text from Jackson.
I’ll be there. I want to talk to you.
“Oh. My God!” Gracie squeals when she sees it. “Maybe something will happen between you two tonight.”
“Do not get my hopes up,” I warn her.
“Yeah, G. You know how he is,” Hayden adds.
Ouch.
Oh well, it’s true.
“Tell him you’ll be there with your new friend and leave it at that,” Gracie encourages as I tap out my response.
Me: Hey! Yes, I’ll be there with my new friend. Can’t wait to see you.
I read the reply out loud before sending it.
“Get rid of the last part,” Gracie says.
I erase it and send this instead: Hey, yes, I’ll be there with my friend.
“Better,” Hayden says with a nod.
“He’s already typing,” I tell them, staring at the screen. That little gray bubble sits there forever, driving me mad with curiosity. Gracie resumes choosing Hayden’s outfit for the night as they discuss Franz the German and how much Gracie hopes he’s down for a make-out sesh.
Jackson: Hopefully you’ll get a chance to talk to me. I miss you.
I read his words out loud.
“Do not tell him you miss him! Don’t do it!” Hayden is practically screaming.
“I won’t, I promise.” I tap at the phone. Erase letters. Rewrite my sentence. God, it’s the worst.
Me: See you later!
That’s all I say.
And I think that’s enough.
The party is in full swing by the time Carson shows up, and we’re only about an hour in. I run to him the moment I spot him, the two friends he brought with him looking at me with shock on their faces. I don’t know what their deal is, but I give Carson a big hug, and he very carefully wraps his arms around me before they spring away from my body.
“I’m so glad you made it,” I say with way too much enthusiasm.
I might’ve had a couple of White Claws. So I’m buzzin’.
“We almost didn’t show,” Carson admits with an embarrassed smile. “These two didn’t want to come.” He jerks his thumb toward his friends standing behind him.
“What are your names?” I ask them, swaying a little bit on my feet. I need to keep my stuff together. Not act like a drunken fool.
“I’m Jonah,” one of them says.
“Danny,” says the other.
“Jonah and Danny, don’t crush your friend’s spirit,” I tell them, wagging my finger in their direction. “Let’s go find drinks for you guys.”
I lead them into the throng of people crowding the living room, making our way to the kitchen where all the alcohol is. Once we’re in there, the crowd lightens up a bit, and I find Tony sitting at the counter on a barstool, Hayden standing in between his spread legs with her arms around his neck.
“You two are cozy,” I say with a sly smile.
Hayden checks out the three dudes following me. “Hey, Snow White. Who are your friends?”
I laugh. “Carson, Jonah and Danny.”
They smile uncomfortably and nod toward Tony and Hayden. I can tell they’re not the partying type. Kind of nerdy.
Kind of adorable. Especially Carson.
“Let’s get you guys some beer,” I tell them. “You want cans? Or there’s a keg out back.”
“It’s almost out,” Tony says. “Give them cans.”
I dole out the beers and they all say thank you like the polite boys their mamas raised. I spot Caleb in the far corner of the kitchen, leaning against the sliding glass door and talking intently to Baylee. She’s waving her arms every once in a while, like she’s mad at him, and I wonder what they’re up to.
They’ve been off and on since high school. I once predicted they’d get married, but I don’t know…
Gracie bursts into the kitchen from the patio, leading a tall, pale, blond guy by the hand. She sends a disgusted glance in Caleb and Baylee’s direction before she spots me. “E-dog!”
I frown. “E-dog?”
“Just go with it,” Hayden whispers as Gracie drags her blond boy with her toward us.
“You look so good,” she says, crushing me in a hug and whispering in my ear at the same time. “Which one is yours?”
“Gracie, this is Carson,” I tell her once she’s released me. She crushes him in a hug too. “And his friends, Jonah and Danny.”
“Well, aren’t you two cute as a button,” Gracie drawls to the friends, who both turn red cheeked. She swivels her head in my direction. “This is Franz.”
“Franz. I’ve heard so much about you,” I tell him as he reaches out his hand and I shake it.
“Nice to meet you, E-dog,” he says with the utmost sincerity in his German accent, making me laugh.
“It’s Ellie,” I correct.
We chat and drink, and the conversation flows easily. Franz is nice. Quiet. Polite. So are Jonah and Danny. A couple of girls I don’t recognize stop to talk to our group, the two of them sidling up to the boys and engaging them in more one-on-one conversation.
“Looks like they’ve made friends,” I tell Carson.
“Good. They were both so reluctant to come with me,” he says, rolling his eyes. “They’re both total homebodies.”
“Are you a homebody?” I ask him.
“Yeah, kind of,” he admits, sounding bashful. “But I really wanted to see you tonight. Couldn’t believe you invited me to your party.”
My heart pitter patters in my chest. “What do you mean? Why can’t you believe it?”
“Well, look at you.” He waves a hand in my direction, his cheeks ruddy. “You’re—hot.”
“You think I’m hot?” I’m stunned. No one has ever, in my entire life, called me hot.
“Don’t act like you don’t know it,” he says, taking a step closer.
I smile at him, appreciating his nearness. His compliment. He’s taller than me, but probably not six foot. More like five-nine maybe? But that’s okay. I don’t need some towering giant like all the rest of the guys I know.
Like Jackson.
I shove him out of my mind and smile at Carson, who smiles at me in return.
“I don’t hear that word much to describe me,” I admit. When he frowns, I clarify, “Hot.”
“Oh. Well, that was probably rude of me to say.” His cheeks turn even redder, poor guy. “You’re pretty. And nice. I like your smile.”
“Aw, thank you. I like your eyes,” I say.
“Even with the glasses?” He touches the rims, and I can tell he’s self-conscious of them.
“Especially with the glasses. You look cute in them,” I say, my voice flirtatious.
See? I can do this. I can flirt with another boy. A stranger. I can have fun at a party and wear a tank top that’s a little too small. I can have a couple of drinks and not make a fool of myself for a guy who doesn’t give a shit about me.
Carson likes me. I can see it in his eyes. Read it in his body language. He’s leaning toward me, and I know if I asked him to take it slow, he’d take it slow. He’d respect my wishes. He’d respect me.
He’s definitely more my speed. Not as risky.
Jackson just takes. He’d crash into me and demand whatever he could. My time, my adoration, my utter devotion. I gave it to him willingly, I always did, but I was blind to his selfishness. Always believing he would eventually return my feelings. How could he not? What
we shared was amazing. We were connected. I’m realizing I was too dazzled by his aura, his face, his stupid voice to see what was really going on.
That he was just using me. I was a convenient crutch. The girl he could always count on being there for him. The girl he could never see beyond as a friend.
I was so blind.
“Thanks,” Carson says, tipping his head toward mine. “Maybe we could, uh, get together sometime? Go to a movie?”
Giddiness rises inside of me and I tell myself to remain calm. He’s asking me on a date. I’m definitely going to say yes. For sure. I need to give him a chance. Remind myself I don’t need to be starstruck in order to get with a guy. There are perfectly average, attractive guys out here in the real world waiting for me, eager to spend time with me. Like this one.
I part my lips, ready to say yes, when I spot him.
Jackson. Entering the kitchen. Alone. No girl hanging on his arm. His expression determined, his gaze sliding to mine.
I freeze, the words sticking in my throat. His eyes seem to almost bug out of his head as he makes his way toward us, staring only at me.
Oh. Shit.
Nine
Jackson
What the hell did Ellie do to herself?
I’m not complaining. Hell no. She looks…gorgeous. Sexy. All I see is skin. Her shoulders, her arms. Jesus, her tits. There’s a lot of her on display tonight, and I like it.
Eli and I showed up late, because that’s how we roll. He was on the phone with Ava for God knows how long. Probably jerking off to the sound of her voice, but whatever. I get it. He misses her something fierce and she misses him, and when he came out of the bedroom after their call, he told me he didn’t want to go to the party.
“Fuck that, you need to go,” I stressed when I saw the hangdog expression on his face.
I finally got him to agree. And now we’re here. The moment he walked through the door, Diego snagged him up and they’re neck deep in conversation. I let him go, knowing he’s also stressed about the game tomorrow.
I’ll probably only play the second half, if I get any field time at all. Meaning I’m a little nervous about tomorrow’s game, but not as much as Eli is. What’s funny is I didn’t pre-party like I originally planned. I pulled out the weed and the baggie of pills earlier, when I was still in my room. I even took a couple of pills out and held them in the palm of my hand.
Then I tossed them back into the bag and shoved it, along with the weed, into my bedside table drawer, irritated with myself. No alcohol is currently coursing through my veins either. I realized I’m tired of doing the same ol’ thing, day in and day out.
For the first time in a long while, I’m stone-cold sober.
Look at me. Acting like a grownup and shit.
I make my way to where Ellie is, only realizing at the last second that she’s with a guy. Who’s currently looking at her as if she created the moon and the stars just for him.
Considering what she’s wearing, and how gorgeous she looks, I can’t blame the dude.
“Hey.” I stop directly in between them, looking from her face to his. I thrust my hand toward him. “Jackson.”
“Carson,” he says, giving me a quick shake. “Nice to meet you.”
“How do you know Ellie?” I ask with a frown.
She sends me a look. One that says, get the hell out of here.
I return my own look, and it says, not a chance, babe.
I need to know who this guy is. Size him up. Is she interested in him? I hope to hell not. I don’t have a claim on her but damn…
Can she move on from me that fast?
Check your ego, Rivers. It’s a little out of control.
“We have two classes together,” Ellie answers for him, her gaze cold. “What do you want, Jackson?”
“Whoa, so unfriendly.” I send a cajoling smile in Carson’s direction and he smiles back, appearing confused. Poor dude. He has no clue. “Just wanted to say hi. You’re looking extra—good tonight.”
Her cheeks turn pink. “Thanks,” she bites out.
“You do something different to your hair?”
She immediately touches it. “I got it cut.”
“I like it, El. You’re looking fine, for sure.” I nod and smile, like I’m an easily agreeable, straight-up homie.
I’m not though. I can tell she wants to get rid of me, and I know why. She’s probably interested in this dude. I can tell he’s definitely interested in her, by the way he’s looking at her right fucking now.
I don’t like it. Not one bit. I bet she only just met this guy, and I can’t help feeling overprotective of her.
“Your friends are outside,” she tells me.
“Really?” I glance around, spotting almost every single one of them. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”
“Maybe you should go find them.” She tilts her head to the side.
“Unfortunately, they’re all engaged in other conversation. Tony’s currently lip-locked with Hayden. Caleb is getting his ass handed to him by Baylee. Diego and Eli are talking about tomorrow’s game. Jocelyn is with Gracie and some giant blond guy with a huge Adam’s apple. And…I think that’s everyone.”
Ellie scowls at me. Carson is completely unfazed. Just keeps sipping from his can of beer, never taking his gaze off of her.
Probably can’t believe this fine ass chick is talking to him tonight. I understand where he’s coming from. He seems young—probably only a year younger than me, but sometimes I feel like I’ve aged about ten years in the last twelve months—and kind of dorky looking. Pale. Like he doesn’t get much sun because he’s inside all the time. I bet he’s a smart motherfucker who’s majoring in business and is really good with numbers.
Meaning, he’s the complete opposite of me.
“You’re talking about Franz,” Ellie says with an exasperated sigh.
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“The giant blond guy with the Adam’s apple,” she says. “His name is Franz.”
“And who the hell is Franz, exactly?” I ask.
“Gracie’s new guy,” she answers. “He’s from Germany.”
Ah. Gracie. Of course she would go out with a guy named Franz.
“I’ve been to Germany,” Carson says with a smile. “Went to Berlin when I was fourteen.”
“What did you think of it?” Ellie asks, her eyes wide. “I’ve always wanted to go.”
“It’s beautiful. I liked the city. Clean. Lots of cool buildings. Modern mixed with old. Most of the city was blown up in World War II,” Carson says.
“I’ve always wanted to go to Europe,” Ellie says to him, reaching out to touch his knee. “Have you been to any other country over there?”
“We went to France too,” Carson says, his gaze dropping to his knee, where Ellie is still touching him.
My gaze is there too. She’s not usually so forward. At least not with me. Seeing her touch this guy, a guy she doesn’t even really know, makes me want to get all caveman and grab her.
Tell this asshole that she’s mine.
Wait a minute. I need to calm the hell down. She’s not mine. She never really was. I can’t make a claim on her. I’m the asshole who pushed her away after we kissed. What she’s doing right now?
I deserve every bit of it.
“That is my ultimate dream, to go to Paris,” Ellie says, her expression dreamy. As if she’s imagining herself standing beneath the Eiffel Tower. “I’ve always wanted to see the Eiffel Tower.”
Called it.
“It’s even nicer than Berlin,” Carson says, clearing his throat. He seems visibly uncomfortable, and I have no idea why.
Ellie gives his knee a squeeze before she drops her hand and glances around. “Oh, I think Diego and Eli want to talk to you, Jackson.”
I glance over my shoulder to see them both staring at me. They make come here gestures with their hands and I scowl before swinging back around to face Ellie and Carson.
I don’t want to leav
e these two alone. They’re too cozy. Something’s happening here, and I don’t want it to. I may have been the one who stupidly friend-zoned Ellie, but I don’t necessarily want to see her with some other guy either.
Meaning, I am one hundred percent a selfish asshole.
“How do you know Ellie?” Carson asks me out of nowhere.
“How do I know her?” I rest my hand against my chest, my gaze going to hers. She’s watching me, her expressive eyes telling me all sorts of things. Like how she much she doesn’t want me here. Chatting with this guy who she is clearly interested in. But is she really? Only a few weeks ago, she was hanging on my every word. “We lived in the same area. Went to rival high schools. Her best friend is dating my best friend.”
“Cool, cool.” Carson nods, his gaze going from Ellie to me. Can he feel the tension brewing between us? Because I sure as hell can.
I hear Eli call my name and I wince, determined to keep talking.
“I’m a musician. A songwriter,” I add, and Carson appears dutifully impressed. “Ellie is one of my biggest fans.”
“I am not,” she retorts.
“Don’t lie, babe.” I smile at her and she scowls in return. “She’s one of the most supportive people I know,” I tell Carson, leaning into him as if I’m sharing a secret.
“Not anymore,” she throws at me.
“Don’t ever piss her off,” I say to Carson. He frowns, his dark brows pulling together. “She holds a mighty big grudge.”
“Oh my God, Jackson. Go away. Now,” she spits out at me, at the same time that Eli calls my name yet again.
“That’s my cue to go.” I offer both of them a smile. “Nice meeting you,” I say to Carson.
“You too.”
I saunter away, and I can literally feel Ellie watching me go. Her gaze is hot. Angry, for sure. But probably something else too. It’s always been there between us, growing and growing, while I maintain my normal ‘in denial’ status.
Awareness. We are always so damn aware of each other. In tune with each other. It’s annoying sometimes. I can’t shake her, even when I want to.
Now is not one of those times.
I head toward Diego and Eli, who immediately pull me into a conversation about tomorrow night’s game. They’re all worked up while I’m as casual as can be. Being on the football team right now is like a freaking vacation compared to touring this past summer. When everything was on my shoulders. They all looked to me for decisions, for directions. If I fucked up, I was solely responsible, and let me tell you, that shit is intimidating.
The Sophomore Page 7