“We’ll get to hang out even more tomorrow night. At the movies,” he reminds me, his smile a little bolder than mine.
“Right.” I nod, wishing he made me feel all giddy and nervous and excited for our date. I mean, I’m excited about my date with Carson tomorrow. I like him. A lot.
But if Jackson never came into my life, becoming such a major presence, it would’ve been so easy to be completely dazzled by Carson. He’s the type of boy I would’ve crushed on hard when I was in high school my freshman and sophomore year. Sweet and cute and a little nerdy. Smart. Shy. Boys like that don’t intimidate me as much.
And then I met Jackson Rivers.
That bastard ruined everything.
Eleven
Jackson
I’m chilling at Tony and Caleb’s condo, playing video games by myself. Tony is coming back soon with lunch for us. Caleb is still in class. Eli is too. We’ll all meet up at practice later.
Right now, I’m just kicking it here, when there’s a knock on the door.
Pausing the game, I rise to my feet and go to the door, peeking through the peephole. Shock courses through me when I see who’s standing there, and I unlock and throw open the door as quickly as possible.
Ellie turns, her eyes widening when she sees me. “What are you doing here?”
“What are you doing here?” I toss back at her.
She presses her lips together, glancing around. As if she doesn’t want to look me in the eyes. What the hell? “Is Tony home?”
“No,” I say carefully. “I’m the only one home.” I don’t bother telling her he should be back in a few minutes.
“You don’t even live here,” she says, her tone accusatory as she brushes a few sweaty hair strands away from her face.
“I may as well, since we’re always hanging out together,” I say, leaning against the doorjamb and crossing my arms. I watch her, noting her messy hair, her shiny face. Her T-shirt looks damp around the neck and I frown. “You okay? You look a little…overheated.”
“I, uh…oh God, this is so embarrassing.” She finally meets my gaze, wincing. “I ran out of gas.”
My mouth drops open. “No shit?”
She nods, her expression miserable. “I walked almost a mile to get here.”
“What the fuck, Ellie? That’s dangerous.” The street Tony and Caleb live off of is busy. Cars always speed down the straightaway, and a lot of accidents happen out there. “Where’s your car?”
“On the side of the road, parked in front of another apartment complex.” She wipes at her forehead. “It’s so hot outside.”
“Come in,” I tell her absently, opening the door wide before I head back into the house so I can turn off the TV and grab my wallet.
“Thank you. It’s so nice and cool in here.” Ellie wanders into the apartment, lifting her hair off the back of her neck. “Think I could grab a water?”
“Go for it,” I tell her. “And then we’ll head out.”
She walks into the kitchen and opens the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water. “Head out where?”
“To the gas station. Well, we’ll need to stop off and buy a gas can first,” I say.
“Wait a minute.” She pauses in the doorway of the kitchen, watching me very, very carefully. “You’re going to help me?”
“I’m definitely going to help you,” I tell her, my voice firm. “You ready to go?”
“Uh, okay.” She frowns, not moving an inch. “You sure you don’t mind?”
“Ellie. Of course I don’t mind.” I pull my phone out and send a quick text to Tony, telling him I have to leave and help Ellie with her car. He responds fast, letting me know he’ll be home in less than three minutes, so I can go ahead and leave the door unlocked. “Let’s do this.”
We walk out to the parking lot, me going straight to my Mercedes, Ellie trailing behind. I hit the key fob and unlock the doors, making my way to the passenger side first, so I can open the door for her.
I’m a gentleman, even if she doesn’t think I am.
“Thank you,” she murmurs before she slips inside my car. Breathing deep, I inhale her sweet scent, trying to catch it as I shut the door for her.
Damn, she smells good. How could I forget that?
I jog around the front of the car and settle into the driver’s seat, hitting the button to start the car. “You lucked out that I was here. Both Tony and Caleb aren’t around.”
“Yeah. Really lucky,” she says, her voice laced with sarcasm.
What the fuck?
Putting the car into reverse, I back out of the parking spot quickly, my tires squealing when I shift into drive and punch the gas. Ellie grips the handle on the inside of the passenger door, sending me a glare.
“Show off,” she mutters.
Who is this stranger and what did she do with my Ellie?
“You’re the one who’s being kind of rude,” I mutter under my breath as I pull into the drive, coming to a stop. “Left or right?”
“What?” she snaps.
“Which way is your car? Left or right?” I say the words slowly, as if she might not get it.
In other words, I’m being a complete prick.
She glares. “Left.”
I hit the blinker, check both ways for traffic, and when it’s finally clear, I pull out onto the street, hitting the gas hard, the tires squealing again. Even my car’s back end gets a little squirrely.
“You’re driving like an asshole,” she accuses me.
“You’re kind of acting like an asshole.” I let those words sink in for only a few seconds before I continue. “Not cool, considering I’m helping you.”
“I didn’t ask for your help.”
“As if I’m going to tell you no, El. If you need help, I’m going to help,” I say, my voice a little gentler.
She turns her head, staring out the window as we drive. Not saying a word. Which only makes me angrier. What the hell is her problem? Why is she being so hostile toward me? I thought we were cool yesterday. After I played part of my new song for her. She seemed to like it. She was supportive, which was what I needed yesterday. I was feeling a little low, but talking to Ellie always picks me up.
Always.
Until now.
I send her a quick glance, staring at the back of her head, willing her to look my way, but she doesn’t. A loud, long sigh leaves me, but I get nothing.
“Tell me when you see your car,” I say.
Her head moves. The most subtle of nods.
What the fuck ever.
We drive for a few minutes, hitting every single red light along the way. We’re approaching a major intersection when Ellie sits up straight, pointing to the right. “There it is!”
On the opposite side of the road, of course.
I check the roads and, at the last second, swing an illegal U-turn, so I’m on the other side of the street, parking so our cars are nose to nose.
A car speeds past us, making my Mercedes rattle, the driver’s hand thrust out his window, giving me the finger as he honks repeatedly.
“Jackson, oh my God,” Ellie says, sounding frazzled. “That was crazy.”
“I took my shot when I could,” I say with a shrug.
And if those words don’t accurately describe me, I don’t know what else does.
“I thought we were going to get a gas tank first,” she says.
“I wanted to check out the car, see what’s up.”
Her head swivels in my direction, her dark eyes meeting mine. She’s mad. Frustrated. I’m guessing it all has to do with her car situation, but maybe she’s mad at me too. For what, I don’t know. I’m her knight in shining armor right now. Maybe she’d prefer it was her precious little nerd boy, Carson?
Nah, I can’t take my frustration out on him. He seemed perfectly fine.
Perfectly boring, but yeah. A decent human being. Ellie’s type, I’m sure.
A decent human being, I am not.
“You don’t believe me?” Ellie asks, pulli
ng me from my thoughts.
“Believe you about what?”
“That I ran out of gas,” she says tightly. “I know that’s what happened. I feel really stupid right now, trust me, but I was trying to stretch it out as long as possible. Gas prices have gone up so high lately, and I don’t get paid until tomorrow…”
She clamps her lips shut. I immediately feel like shit. I don’t struggle for money, thanks to my dad. I’m not as rich as the Callahans or even the Bennetts, but my dad does really well at his job. The fancy ass car I’m currently driving used to belong to him. He got tired of it after only two years and gave it to me.
Must be nice.
If I stay on my rock star path and actually get a record deal, I could afford a hundred of these cars for my closest and dearest friends. I could buy Ellie a lifetime supply of gas for her car. She’d never run out of gas again. If I hit it big, I could end up with the world at my feet, and I could do whatever the hell I wanted, whenever I wanted to. I would be set for life—if my over-the-top dreams come true.
And here Ellie struggles, driving on fumes, crossing her fingers that she won’t have to fill up her tank until she gets paid.
While I live on my daddy’s dime, able to fill up my gas tank, no problem.
“You’re not stupid,” I say gently, glancing over at her to find she’s already watching me. “I just wanted to make sure there’s not some other problem with your car before we go get a gas can and fill it up.”
She nibbles on her full bottom lip, her eyes wide. Trusting. She shouldn’t trust me. I don’t know jack shit about cars, but I want to help her. She’s helped me so much over the last couple of years, and I give her nothing in return.
This is the least I can do.
“Okay,” she says, nodding, her teeth still working her lip.
“Can I have the key?” I hold my hand out.
She reaches inside her purse and pulls out the keychain, handing it over to me. “Here you go.”
“Why don’t you get out of the car while I do this,” I suggest.
She frowns. “Why?”
“It’s not safe to sit on the side of the road in a car. Someone could smash into it—and you,” I explain.
“Isn’t it just as unsafe to stand on the side of the road?” she asks.
“At least you’d be on the other side of the car, and not in it,” I say with a shrug. This was advice my father gave me when I was first learning to drive.
Guess it stuck.
“Okay,” she says with a sigh, reaching for the door.
I go to her car while she finds some shade under a tree, watching me as I settle behind the steering wheel of her old Saturn. This car is ancient, at least fifteen years, maybe older? It’s definitely seen better days. Nice and clean inside though. Of course it is. This is Ellie we’re talking about, after all.
She takes care of her shit.
I stick the key in the ignition and try to start it. It doesn’t even try and turn over. Just makes a clicking sound. I try again, but nothing.
And I’ve got nothing either. Sure, this could be a simple run out of gas situation. But maybe it’s something else. Ellie bought the car the summer before her senior year for cheap. It already had over one hundred thousand miles on it. But it ran and she only paid around fifteen hundred bucks, which was a lot of money for her. I always worried about her driving around in this car. Figured it close to falling apart at any time.
I climb out of the car and make my way over to her, standing beneath the tree. It’s as hot as a bitch outside, and I see she’s sweating despite being in the shade.
“How old is the car again? 2005?”
“2003,” she admits.
I frown. “It’s eighteen years old.”
She nods.
“The same age as you,” I say, as if she needs the reminder.
I’m sure she doesn’t.
She rolls her eyes. “Ooookay.”
“Weren’t you born in ‘03?”
“Stop.” She shoves my shoulder, but I don’t really move. “Do you think it’s just out of gas? Or something worse?”
“Has it been acting up?”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know—engine stalling? Having trouble starting? Lights flickering? When was the last time you replaced your battery?” I’m throwing questions at her and she looks overwhelmed. And I don’t even know if I’m asking the right questions.
“I haven’t replaced the battery since I bought it,” she admits.
She’s only owned it a year, so that’s not too big an issue. I suppose I could look under the hood. Don’t batteries have a purchase date on them?
Feeling like a macho asshole who secretly doesn’t know what he’s doing, I pop the hood and check the battery, squinting at the faded letters and numbers engraved on top of it. Ellie watches me from her spot under the tree, her brows furrowed, as if she’s confused by what I’m doing.
I get it. I don’t know shit about cars. I’m not dressed for what I’m doing either, clad in black basketball shorts and a torn, faded Tame Impala T-shirt with Nike slides on my feet.
“It might be your battery,” I tell her once I slam the hood down. “Do you have an emergency tow service? Triple A?”
She slowly shakes her head.
I get pissed. Why wouldn’t her parents give her something like that? She’s all alone down here, driving a shitty car, working at a restaurant until late at night. She needs some extra protection.
“I have Triple A,” I tell her. “I could have them tow it to a mechanic.”
“I don’t know,” she says warily. “How about we test the gas theory first?”
We drive to a Pep Boys close by and I buy a gas tank for her. She insists on paying, but I won’t let her, which irritates her.
I don’t really care.
We go to a gas station next, and she literally pushes me out of the way at the pump, shoving her debit card into the reader before I can manage to pull out my credit card.
“You shouldn’t use a debit card at the pump,” I tell her as she punches in all her information.
“Why not?” She glances over her shoulder at me.
“People put skimmers on those things. Scam card readers so they can make new cards out of your number and charge it up.”
“They won’t get far. I don’t have a lot of money in my account,” she says, her voice wry.
“Yeah, but they could wipe you out fast and then your bank won’t replace it for a couple of weeks while they investigate it,” I point out.
She turns to face me. “Guess it’s the chance I have to take.”
“You should try and get a credit card,” I say, remaining outwardly calm. Inside, I want to scream at her, why doesn’t anyone explain these things to you? Why doesn’t anyone take care of you?
Like I want to be the one to take care of her, but sometimes I can barely take care of myself.
“I tried. I didn’t get one.” She shrugs. “I don’t make enough. Or they want me to pay two hundred dollars so I can have a four-hundred-dollar credit limit or whatever. I can’t afford to have two hundred dollars just tied up in some weird credit card that feels like a scam.”
I unscrew the top of the gas can before inserting the nozzle inside. “Wait a few months. You can probably get a credit card on campus. The companies always seem to have booths in the quad, trying to get you to sign up. The student offers are pretty good.”
Diego got one and they gave him a fifteen-hundred-dollar credit limit. He couldn’t believe it.
“Yeah. Maybe. I don’t know. Credit cards scare me. What if I run up a balance that I can’t afford?” she asks, frowning.
“Then you make the minimum payment and pay it off,” I explain.
“Right and pay sky high interest on stuff that I don’t need.” She shakes her head.
“Sometimes we need things we can’t afford,” I point out.
“I’m sure you know so much about that.” Her tone is l
aced with faint hostility.
As calmly as I can, I finish filling the plastic can, put the lid back on it and set it carefully in the trunk of my car. If that thing spills, that’ll suck major ass, but like precious Ellie just said, it’s the chance I’ll have to take.
It’s only when we’re finally back in my car do I speak again.
“What exactly did you mean by that?”
“Mean by what?” she asks, sounding genuinely confused.
“When you said I know so much about needing things we can’t afford?” I start the engine and pull away from the gas pumps, turning onto the street and stopping at the intersection, waiting for the light to change.
A sigh escapes her. “Jackson, you never have to wait for anything. You get whatever you want, whenever you want it.”
Not true, I think to myself. But I don’t bother correcting her.
“You don’t know what it’s like to struggle financially. Your dad pays for everything. And I’m not jealous, or mad about it. I’ve been around that sort of thing since Ava and I became such good friends. I’m used to it. I benefit from my friends’ good fortune. But I wasn’t born into a wealthy family. Not even close. I have to work and save and sometimes struggle a little bit. It’s not fun, but I also know my life isn’t so bad. I have a lot of things to be grateful for,” she says, sounding so logical. Downright content, even.
She goes silent for a moment and I absorb her words. I never really thought about Ellie’s financial circumstance before. I mean, it’s obvious. The old Saturn is what finally tipped me off and made me realize she comes from a middle-class family. Nothing wrong with that, of course. Though I wonder if Ellie realizes that.
“So no, I don’t really want you to tow my car to a mechanic shop, because I won’t be able to afford fixing my car. My parents can’t either. I’m praying all it is, is a gas problem and that’s it,” she further explains, sinking into the seat with a soft sigh.
I’m quiet as I drive back to her car, hoping that it’s only a gas problem.
Wishing I could solve all of her problems with a snap of my fingers. A worried, stressed out Ellie worries and stresses me out.
Not that she’ll let me ease her burden. She’s too proud. Too stubborn. I’m sure she’ll think I’ll want something in return. I can admit I’m selfish, but when it comes to Ellie…
The Sophomore Page 9