Just like I put so many expectations on him, I don’t want him to put a bunch on me either. The pressure would be too much. Being responsible for his future is a lot. Watching him give up on something he’s worked toward these last few years isn’t what I want for him.
Not even close.
“You’re not. I’ve come to realize I’m just not that good,” he says, his voice light. As if it’s no big deal. But it is. This is a huge deal. And I don’t believe him. I think he’s just trying to convince himself. “I don’t necessarily fit a certain mold. I’m just doing my own thing, and I don’t think I’m marketable.”
“You had other record labels wanting to sign you,” I remind him. “They thought you were marketable. Because you’re unique. You’re not the same old pop star. You have a little more edge.”
“You’re just saying that because you’re my biggest fan,” he says with a smile. “And did they really believe I’m marketable? Or were they momentarily caught up in the hype?” He shrugs, pulling his hand away from mine. “Maybe I’m already a ‘has been’ at nineteen.”
“Jackson…” I start, but he shakes his head.
“I still need to process this,” he says, his voice firm. “And I really don’t want to talk about it anymore. Okay?”
I slowly nod, trying not to frown. I can tell he’s upset, and I don’t want to make it worse. He’s struggled the last year with all of this. The sudden local fame, and how fast it grew. The attention from social media, and the record companies. How he turned them all down when his friends—including me—thought he was crazy. Why not jump on the opportunity when it’s being presented? He should’ve.
He’d never say it out loud, but I think he’s almost—scared of fame. Scared of the responsibilities. The expectations. The pressure. He’s not one who deals well with pressure. Not at all.
And maybe now he’s regretting his life choices, and I wonder if that includes me.
No, not me, I think as he watches me, his eyes full of emotion, his perfect lips curled into this knowing half-smile. I can’t help but smile in return, the both of us barely looking away from each other as the server arrives with our meals. He’s happy with me.
I can tell.
Twenty-Nine
Jackson
“I don’t want her going back to school,” Eli says to me as we watch Ava and Ellie sitting together outside at Ava’s parents’ house. We were all invited to the Callahans’ home Saturday afternoon for a barbecue and it feels like everyone is here, except Jake and his girl and Autumn and Asher Davis.
Ash went pro. Autumn is the newest Instagram sensation, gathering lots of followers as she documents her new life as the fiancée of a future quarterback superstar. Jake is too busy kicking ass on the USC football team. Hannah is in art school, doing what she loves.
I’m jealous of all four of them. I can admit it. They’re doing exactly what they want, and enjoying every minute of it. While I’m stuck in between two worlds, not sure where I fit in. I love football, but I’m not getting the chance to play. I love making music, but I’m starting to realize I was a damn fool for thinking I could actually be successful at it.
It was a mistake, not agreeing to one of those contracts when they were offered. Now I’ve got nothing.
Well, I’ve got my friends. And Ellie.
Ellie.
My gaze lingers on her, how she throws her head back and laughs at something Ava says. Jocelyn is sitting with them, as well as Baylee, who Caleb brought with him. For whatever reason, they’re all getting along perfectly well, which is shocking considering Baylee’s association with the awful Cami Lockhart. That girl destroyed more relationships than she actually had herself during her time in high school.
Wonder where she’s at now?
Best if I don’t ask, especially Eli, who had his own run-in with her. Multiple times.
“I don’t blame you,” I finally say to him, glancing over at him. His expression is grim, his jaw tight, his lips thin. He doesn’t look happy, when he should be soaking up these last hours with his girlfriend. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Long distance relationships are bullshit,” he mutters fiercely. “Having her here this weekend is reminding me why I hate them. I don’t want to let her go.”
“Yeah.” I sip from my water bottle. I’m glad the Callahan family invited us to their house, and I’m having a good time, but we’re keeping it clean. Ava’s parents don’t let us drink in front of them, not like my dad, who would provide me with plenty of alcohol and weed any time I asked for it. He’d leave me a stash of both, since he was always working or out of town. This is why I was always partying in high school. Kind of fucked-up, but back then, I thought it was great.
We all did.
“You and Ellie for real now?” he asks me out of nowhere.
I shrug. “We haven’t actually talked about it and made it official, but I think so.”
“She can’t quit looking over here at you,” he observes.
“I’m doing the same thing to her,” I say, smiling at her when our gazes lock. She returns the smile with a shy one of her own before she resumes her conversation with her friends.
“You’ve got it so bad,” Eli says, shaking his head. “Finally.”
“I shouldn’t have led her on like I did for so long,” I admit, suddenly feeling down on myself. An emotion I’ve been battling with all weekend.
The disappointing meeting with Rick and his people won’t leave me, and it’s colored my mood. Even having Ellie all to myself for the entire weekend since she took the time off for Ava’s visit hasn’t completely lifted my spirits, though it’s been the perfect distraction. Just the one I needed.
I’m happy with her, I really am. We can’t get enough of each other, and she’s surprisingly wild in bed. Girl does not hold back, and I appreciate that.
A lot.
But I’d hoped to not only be having the time of my life with her, I’d fully expected to have something lined up with Evergreen. My future, solidified.
Instead, I feel like I’m floundering more than ever.
“You were blind,” Eli says, as if that’s explanation enough. “You didn’t see what was happening right in front of your eyes. Not like I did with Ava. I took one look at her, and I fucking knew. I had to have her.”
“Yeah, I wasn’t as sure as you were,” I say, thinking back on those days. When I would host parties out at my uncle’s abandoned cabin by the lake, playing my guitar around the fire and singing songs, with Ellie always by my side. Gazing up at me with those big eyes, looking at me as if I could change her entire life.
God, I was such a dick.
“Just don’t fuck it up,” Eli says, his tone turning serious. “Ellie is a sweet girl. I’d hate to see you hurt her.”
“I don’t plan on hurting her,” I say defensively.
“I know, but you probably could with little effort. You’re kind of an ass sometimes. A little selfish,” he says.
I start to laugh. “That’s pretty funny, coming from you.”
He frowns. “What do you mean?”
“You’re a selfish ass, Eli. You strut around wherever you’re at, thinking you’re king of the goddamn world. It’s the Eli Bennett show and we’re all just living in it,” I say, sounding bitter. Sometimes his cocky attitude makes me angry. Defensive.
It’s an emotion that’s been bubbling just beneath the surface for days.
Eli glares at me, not saying a word. His entire body seems tense.
In fact, he looks pretty fucking…mad.
Shit.
“You really think that?” He sounds offended.
I shrug, most likely needing to back pedal, but not necessarily in the mood for it. Maybe I want to hash it all out with my best friend. Get out my frustration. “Sometimes, yeah.”
“You’re just mad because it’s not always the Jackson Rivers show either. I think it pissed you off that all those girls weren’t just there for you Thursday night. They w
ere also screaming over that boy band. Is that what set you off? Made you act like such a grump? You’re finally getting Ellie’s pussy and look at you. You’re still not happy,” he throws at me.
Anger suffuses me over his comment about Ellie. “Don’t say that about my girl.”
“Why? Does it bother you? Sick of it being the Eli Bennett show? Wish it was the Jackson Rivers show instead?” He stands, his body vibrating from barely restrained anger.
I stand too, my hands clutched into fists.
As the silence continues, the tension mounts between us. I’m tall, but he’s taller. The glower on his face says he means business, and damn it, I mean it, too. He can’t just say those kinds of things about Ellie. And he sure as shit can’t try and get me all riled up over something so fucking stupid.
Yet here I am, all riled up over something really fucking stupid. Worse? I’m the cause of this in the first place.
“Hey!” Ava calls from where she’s sitting.
We both swivel our heads in her direction, matching shitty expressions on our faces.
Ava frowns. So does Ellie.
“Everything okay over there, boys?” Ava calls.
“Sure,” Eli says, cutting a glare in my direction before he returns his attention to his girlfriend. “We’re fucking great, babe. Oops, sorry, Coach.”
“Watch your mouth, Bennett,” Drew Callahan says from where he’s manning the barbecue, his wife Fable right beside him, carefully watching us both.
Great. We’re causing drama and that is the last thing I want.
“Bro,” I tell Eli, giving him a nudge. He glares, not giving an inch. “This is stupid. I don’t want to fight with you.”
“I don’t either. But you’re kind of acting like a dick.”
“And you’re tense as shit over your girlfriend when, like I said, you should be over there sitting with her right now, clutching her tight.” I tilt my head in Ava’s direction. “Go to her. Tell her you love her. Tell her you’ll miss her when she’s gone.”
“I already have,” he says, sounding miserable, the tension slowly leaving him. “I’m a needy little fuck.”
“She likes your sorry ass, so don’t even worry about it. Go.” I gently shove his shoulders, pushing him forward. “And I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to start shit.”
“I’m sorry too. But you need to get out of your funk. Stat,” he says, shooting me a smile before he strides over to where Ava’s sitting. He literally picks her up, making her shriek, before settling on the couch and pulling her onto his lap. She wraps her arms around his neck, delivering a smacking kiss on his lips, and they’re immediately lost in each other.
No one else matters.
That’s all the girls’—including Ellie’s—cue to leave them alone. They all get up from where they were sitting, leaving Eli and Ava alone. I wait, watching Ellie as she approaches me, and I pull her into my arms when she gets close, giving her my own version of a smacking kiss.
Not as much smacking. And with a little tongue.
“You two seemed mad at each other,” she says when the kiss ends.
“We were. I thought we were going to come to blows,” I admit.
Ellie frowns. “What in the world? Why?”
“He’s tense over Ava having to leave tomorrow. And I’m tense about…other stuff,” I say, knowing she won’t let me get away with a vague answer.
“Like what?” Her frown deepens.
“I don’t want to talk about it here.” I drop another kiss on her lips. “We can discuss it later.”
“It’s not anything about us or—me, is it?” She sounds so concerned. I hate that.
“No. Not at all. I’m dealing with my own stupid shit.” I thought I’d be over it by now, but I’m way too much in my head over this Evergreen Records’ thing. I feel like I fucked up my entire musical career, and I have no one to blame but myself.
That sucks. Hard.
“Your stupid shit is mine too, you know.” She rests her hand on my chest, her fingers curling into my T-shirt. “I want to help you.”
The sincerity in her voice tells me she means every word she says. This girl has always wanted to help me. Support me.
“I know you do.” I kiss the tip of her nose. “I appreciate it. I appreciate you.”
She slings her arms around my shoulders, clinging to me. “This weekend has been the best one I’ve had in a long time.”
“Me too.” I slip my arms around her waist, pulling her in closer. “I’m glad you didn’t have to work.”
“I have to go back tomorrow though.” She mock pouts. It’s cute. “I work all week.”
“We have an away game next Saturday,” I remind her. “Pasadena.”
“Who are you playing?” she asks with a frown.
“UCLA.” I grimace. “Probably going to have our asses handed to us.”
“I don’t know. I’ve heard their season hasn’t been that great,” she says.
I’m surprised. “You keep up with college football? Besides just the Bulldogs?”
“I work at a sports bar. We have ESPN on the big screen TVs at all times. It’s not like I’m purposely keeping up. I can’t help but absorb all of that information when I work there practically full-time,” she explains.
I laugh, squeezing her tight. “I love that you know what’s going on in college football.”
“I like to know what’s going on with all aspects of your life,” she tells me, patting my chest. “Everything,” she stresses.
She wants to ease my burden by taking some of it on herself, but how can I explain to her what’s going on inside my head when I can’t fully figure it out myself? I’m still working through this, and what I need from her right now, more than anything else, is patience.
Lots and lots of it.
We stay at the Callahans’ house long into the night, until we all finally leave in a caravan of vehicles to head back down the hill for Fresno. Ava and Eli ride with us back to our shared apartment, the girls chatting away while us guys interject here and there. We didn’t make it to Caleb’s frat party after all, which Ava points out midway through our drive, but Ellie reassures her that there are plenty of other frat parties for us to go to in the future.
I realize this is what I missed out on when we were in high school. We could’ve double dated with Eli and Ava all the time, and it would’ve been fun.
But I would’ve most likely fucked it up. She would’ve dumped my ass, and been completely out of my life in a flash. Maybe I did the right thing, not getting with her when we were younger.
Maybe there’s a reason we waited.
By the time we arrive at the apartment and we’re all tucked away in our respective bedrooms, I decide to tell Ellie about my earlier thoughts.
“You know, we probably wouldn’t be here right now if we’d gotten together when we were both still in high school,” I say as we lie on my bed in the dark.
“You really believe that?” she asks, her voice soft, her head nestled on my shoulder.
“Yeah. I was thinking about it on the ride home. I would’ve done something stupid, and you would’ve dumped my ass,” I say.
“Probably.”
“And then our friendship would’ve been ruined. We couldn’t get it back. We’d be out of each other’s lives for good.” I turn to her, touching her cheek. “So in a way, I’m glad I was an idiot and took this long to finally realize how I feel about you.”
She laughs. “Nice way to justify your feelings, Jackson.”
“I’m being serious.” Her laughter dies. “I know it sounds like an excuse, but all those ‘what ifs’ are in my brain. High school relationships rarely last.”
“We’re surrounded by high school relationships that are still lasting,” she points out.
“Yeah, but for how much longer?”
Ellie gasps. “Are you saying they’re all going to break up with each other?”
“I don’t know. The chances are high. And maybe…maybe we will b
reak up too.” Fear seizes hold of my heart and I take deep, even breaths, mentally calming myself. I don’t want that. I don’t want to lose Ellie.
She’s quiet for a moment. “I hope not. We only just started this thing. We’re not even officially together.”
Something comes over me at her words. I take another deep breath and say what it is. “I want you to be my girlfriend.”
More silence. It’s unnerving, how quiet she is. Does she really have to think about this? There was no hesitation on my end, but I guess I deserve her momentarily considering my offer. I mean, I’ve been a complete dumbass for the last two years so—
I hear a sniff. Another one. And I realize.
Oh shit.
She’s crying.
“El. Baby.” I pull her into my arms, hating how she cries against my chest, her shoulders shaking. “What the hell? Why are you crying?”
She pulls away, so she can look up at me, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “I’m just s-so h-happy.”
“You don’t act like it,” I say, smoothing her hair away from her face. “You’re killing me right now.”
“You don’t think we’re moving too fast?” she asks, her voice shaky.
“I’m saying I didn’t move fast enough. I could’ve lost you,” I tell her, leaning in to lightly kiss her lips.
She starts to cry harder, too overcome to form words, I guess.
“Ah shit.” Unwanted emotion bubbles up in my chest and I close my eyes, tucking her close to me. “Don’t cry. I’m not worth your tears.”
“See, that’s the thing, Jackson.” She snuggles close, her arms wrapped tightly around me. “You are.”
Thirty
Ellie
I’m at work, busting my tail as I hustle around the restaurant, trying to keep up with cleaning tables among the influx of customers. We’re always super busy on Thursday nights, thanks to NFL football. The game is currently on every TV in the building, and every table in the place is full, bursting with people.
The Sophomore Page 26