Jake Me

by Sabrina Stark

Ignoring Anthony, I leaned in close to Steve's ear. "I'm not kidding," I said. "If you don't stop, like now, I'm crawling out that back window." My jaw clenched. "And don't think I won't."

  "Be my guest," Steve said. "But just so you know, the pickup bed's full of shit."

  I twisted around to look. Inside the open cargo area, I saw my two suitcases, along with some motor-looking thingy and a bunch of oversized flexible tubing. "So? I''ll just crawl over that stuff. What's the big deal?"

  "And then what?" Steve said. "You're gonna jump into traffic? Jeez, chill, will ya?"

  "Hey Luna," Anthony said.

  I whirled toward him. "What?"

  "Just so you know, when he says shit, he means shit. For real."

  "Huh?"

  "Yeah," Anthony said. "There's this dive-bar a couple miles from here. Anyway, last night, it had this bigtime sewer backup. I'm talking explosive." He grimaced. "Literally. You don't wanna know."

  I stared at him. He was right. I didn't want to know. But it actually made sense. They were sewer contractors after all. Again, I turned to look at all that stuff in the pickup bed. I frowned. Some of that stuff was mine.

  "Oh my God," I said. "And you threw my suitcases back there?"

  "No room up front," Anthony said. "Sorry."

  Well, this was just great.

  Shuddering, I turned back to Steve. I gave him the look of death. "Pull. Over. Now."

  To my utter amazement, this time, he didn't argue. Instead, he eased off the gas-pedal, and navigated a right turn, onto a side-street that was only slightly less busy.

  I looked around, hoping to find a good parking spot. To our left was a tall, stately hotel, at least a dozen stories high. To our right was a sprawling, active construction site. The site was surrounded by a tall, chain-link fence, topped with razor wire. In front of the fence was a diagonal parking area littered with orange construction cones.

  I pointed to a gap in the cones. "There."

  Steve laughed.

  "What's so funny now?" I asked.

  "You," he said, pulling up where I'd indicated. He shifted the truck into park and turned to face me. "Well? You got what you wanted. Now what?"

  "Um, actually …" I looked around. "I'm not sure yet."

  "You know what you're like?" Steve said. "You're like the dog who finally catches the car. It's like, yeah, you got what you were barking for, but what the hell do you do now?" He leaned forward and said to Anthony. "Am I right?"

  Ignoring Steve's idiotic dog-theory, I twisted in my seat to watch for Jake's car. Almost instantly, I spotted it, rounding the same corner behind us. A moment later, it pulled off to the side, parking maybe five or six spaces away.

  Feeling my heart rate quicken, I squinted at it through the glass. It was definitely Jake behind the wheel. I felt my brow wrinkle. But he wasn't getting out. He wasn't even looking at us. Instead, he was turned sideways, leaning toward something on the passenger's seat.

  "What's he doing?" I asked.

  Steve spoke up. "Hiding his dead hooker?"

  "Hey!" I whirled toward him. "Stop being an ass, alright? He's actually a really nice guy."

  On the other side of me, Anthony snorted. "You mean he's fuckin' nuts."

  I turned to give him an annoyed look. "He is not."

  Anthony held up his hands. "Hey, I'm a fan. Honest. But nice? Get real."

  "You guy stay here," I said. "I'm gonna see what he wants."

  A few seconds later, my feet hit the sidewalk, and I began walking. As I moved, I took deep, steadying breaths, trying to decipher what exactly I was feeling. Happiness that he was here? Anger that he'd followed after us? My steps faltered. Concern that I might smell like crap?

  I stopped in my tracks. Trying to be subtle, I turned my head and sniffed the shoulder of my sweatshirt. It smelled the same as always, like soap and fabric softener. I snuck a quick glance at my suitcases. No way I'd be sniffing those any time soon.

  Pushing the suitcases from my thoughts, I strode forward, keeping an eye on Jake's silhouette as I moved toward him. He was still facing the passenger's seat. He was still looking down. In spite of everything, I almost smiled. In spite of everything, he was still the guy I loved.

  When I reached the front of his car, he finally looked up. Through the glass, our gazes locked, and I almost forgot to breathe. My heart raced forward, but my feet stopped moving.

  At the sight of me standing there, Jake became eerily still. I stood, frozen, watching him watch me through the front windshield. Suddenly, all of my conflicting emotions meshed into one solid sensation – utter relief.

  He was here. And so was I.

  It didn't guarantee anything, but it was a start, right?

  Throwing caution to the wind, I dashed forward, making for the driver's side window. The glass slid down, leaving us face-to-face. His dark gaze met mine, and I felt that familiar tug of whatever it was that made me so damn crazy about him.

  He was so rugged. And so beautiful. And so crazy sometimes that I could almost strangle him. But now, all I wanted to do was crawl through the car-window and wipe away the darkness that was haunting his features.

  I summoned up a shaky smile. "Long time, no see, huh?"

  His eyes looked hollow, and his mouth was tight. He didn't smile back.

  But could I really blame him? I tried to put myself in his shoes. How would I feel if he had run off, leaving nothing but a note?

  I knew exactly how I'd feel.

  Like crap.

  Finally, he spoke. "Luna—"

  "Wait," I said. "Let me go first, okay?" He'd done the driving. The least I could do was meet him halfway.

  "Listen," I said in a rush, "I am so sorry. About the thing this morning, you were right. It was a crappy thing to do." I rolled my eyes in self-mockery. "Jeez. I mean, who leaves a note? Dear Jake?" I forced out a shaky laugh. "Good thing your name's not John, huh?"

  As I spoke, Jake had no reaction. No smile. No twitch. No sign that he was hearing me at all. If it weren't for his eyes, trained so eerily on my own, I might have felt invisible.

  I cleared my throat. "You know? John? Like a 'Dear John' letter?" I waved away my lame attempt at humor. "Never mind. Stupid joke. Really, I just want you to know something."

  His voice was a dull monotone. "What's that?'

  I stared into his eyes, trying to make him understand. "Earlier, at your place, that wasn't a kiss-off." My voice softened. "I didn't plan on being gone forever."

  Still sitting in the driver's seat, Jake turned his head to gaze out the front windshield. He said nothing.

  Confused, I looked toward front of his car, trying to see what he was seeing. Ahead of us, inside the construction area, I spotted a dump truck rumbling along just inside the fence. As it drove past, Jake had no reaction. Was he seeing anything? Was he hearing anything?

  I tried again. "Just so you know, the thing with my brothers, it wasn't like I'd been planning it all weekend or anything."

  He stared straight ahead. "Don't worry about it."

  "I'm not worried. I just want you to understand." I took a deep breath. "By some weird chance, I learned Steve and Anthony were in town. One thing led to another, and I figured I'd crash with them a while. Get some space, you know?"

  "Yeah. I know."

  I studied him in profile, wondering what exactly was going through his head. Whatever it was, it was making me nervous.

  At last, he turned to face me. "Luna?"

  Something about his expression filled me with dread. "What?"

  "I'm sorry."

  "For what?"

  "For not stopping you."

  Something tugged at my heartstrings. "From leaving?"

  "No," he said. "From talking."

  Chapter 7

  I drew back. "What's that supposed to mean?"

  He shrugged.

  "Tell me." My face was flaming now. "What exactly are you getting at?"

  "Nothing." He looked away. "I'm an asshole."

  "O
h shut up," I said. "You are not."

  "I know what I am."

  "So why'd you follow us?" Suddenly, I felt like a giant fool. "To spy on me? To embarrass me?" My voice rose. "To see if I'd make an idiot of myself? I guess it worked, huh? Well, goodie for you."

  His tone was softer now. "Luna…"

  "Don't Luna me," I said. "I hate that name." Yes, I was being childish, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. "Tomorrow, I'm gonna pick a new one. Something nice and normal."

  "Don't."

  "Why not?"

  "Because your name's perfect." On his face, I saw the whisper of a smile that didn't quite meet his eyes. "Like you."

  "Thanks for the flattery," I said. "But next time, do me a favor, alright? Just tell me to shut up from the get-go."

  "I should've. But I couldn’t."

  "Why?" My tone grew snotty. "Because you're too polite?"

  "The truth?" He shook his head. "Because I wanted to hear your voice."

  My anger fizzled like flat ginger-ale. "Really?"

  "—which makes me a selfish bastard."

  "Jake—"

  "Whatever you're gonna say, don't. I don't deserve it." He reached over to the passenger's seat. From somewhere near the floor mat, he grabbed something that I instantly recognized – my favorite purse, my only purse now, actually.

  "Here." He held it out the car-window. "You forgot this."

  I looked down at the thing. "Oh." With a shaky hand, I reached out to take it. "Thanks. I, uh, thought I had it already."

  "No. It was in the car."

  "This car?" I said. "But we took the other one last."

  "Yeah. We did."

  At the recollection, I almost wanted to look away. Fueled by raw lust, I'd been in a massive hurry to get Jake alone. At the time, I might've forgotten my own name. Suddenly, that seemed like another lifetime.

  Desperate to keep the conversation going, I asked, "So that's where you found it? In the other car?"

  "Does it matter?" he asked.

  "No. I was just wondering. That's all."

  He said nothing, and the sounds of traffic grated on my already shaky nerves. I wanted to climb into his car and shut out the world – the cars, the horns, the lost sensation that was growing with every minute.

  Stalling for time, I reached into the front pocket of my oversized sweatshirt and felt around for my phone. Sure enough, it was still there. The phone was my lifeline. My purse – filled with almost no money and one useless debit card – was mostly dead weight. Lust aside, no wonder I'd forgotten the thing.

  Still, I should feel thrilled to have it back, if only for my driver's license. Except I didn't feel thrilled. Clutching the purse, I tried to ignore the sinking sensation in my stomach. "So this was the reason you followed us?"

  I held my breath. Was it the only reason?

  Jake flicked his head toward the purse. "You wanna check, make sure everything's there?"

  "I don't know." I tried to smile. "Did you steal anything?"

  "No."

  "Then I don't need to look, do I?"

  "Yeah. You do." He glanced toward the passenger's side floor. "It slid off the seat. Some stuff fell out. I think I got it all, but…" He gave a small shrug. "If something's missing, now is the time to get it."

  Now? As in now or never? With my mind running on overdrive, I opened the purse and gave a half-hearted look. I spotted my hairbrush, my wallet, and a few other incidentals.

  "Yeah," I said. "It's all here."

  Was that true? I had no idea.

  "Good." Jake looked away and reached for the key in the ignition.

  "Listen," I said, "about this morning—"

  "Forget it."

  I gave him a pleading look. "What if I don't want to forget it?"

  "Too late for that," he said.

  "Why?"

  "Because you were right." He glanced away. "Better to get it over with."

  I shook my head. "It?"

  "This. The goodbye."

  "So this is goodbye?" I blinked hard. "You don't mean for good?"

  "Good?" He made a scoffing sound. "There's nothing good about this."

  "Just stop it," I said. "What is it? You think you're doing me some kind of favor?"

  His jaw clenched. "I know damn well I haven't done you any favors."

  "That's not true."

  In front of me, Jake's gaze shifted to something past my right hip. Whatever he saw, he obviously didn't like it.

  I turned around and stifled a groan. Parked on the other side of the busy street was a familiar beat-up yellow sports car. And in the driver's seat was the car's owner – Maddie, my skank of a former roommate.

  Worse, she was looking straight at us.

  Chapter 8

  As I watched, Maddie jumped out of her car and slammed the door. She balled her fists, took one step toward us, and nearly got squashed by a red pizza-delivery truck. Turning to lift her arms high and wide, Maddie flipped the truck the double-bird and yelled out after it, "Deliver this, asshole!"

  On the sidewalk in front of the hotel, a couple of businessmen stopped to gawk at her. As if sensing their gazes, Maddie whirled toward them and hollered out, "What are you lookin' at, baldy?"

  The two men exchanged a look. Technically, neither one of them was bald. They glanced around, as if looking for the unknown hairless guy. Spotting no one by that description, they hurried into the hotel and disappeared from sight.

  With a look of triumph, Maddie whirled again to face us. Her face was flushed, and her long red hair was a wild tangle of loose curls. She wore a black spandex micro-skirt, thigh-high black boots, and a tight white T-shirt emblazoned with the name of the city's raunchiest strip club.

  Funny, I had a T-shirt just like it, but only because Maddie had given me the thing a couple weeks earlier, not as a gift, but as a sorry-ass substitute for her portion of the electric bill.

  "You!" she called out, as she began stalking across the street, heading straight for us.

  I felt my brow wrinkle. Me? Or Jake? I slid my gaze to Jake, trying to gauge his reaction.

  "Get in the car," he told me.

  "Why?" I asked.

  "Just do it."

  I lifted my chin. "I'm not afraid of Maddie."

  "Then move," he said.

  "Where?"

  "Out of the way." He cracked open his car door, nudging it against my hips. "I'm getting out."

  "Oh fine," I muttered, edging back to give him some room. "But just so you know, if she takes off her clothes, it's your fault, not mine."

  The possibility wasn't exactly far-fetched. The last time I'd seen Maddie, she'd been nearly naked as she chased me and Jake out into the parking lot.

  Jake got out of his car and shut the driver's side door behind him. He moved to claim the spot in front of me, acting as a barrier between me and my psychotic former roommate. With a sigh, I edged forward to stand by his side.

  Together, we watched Maddie dodging cars with blind stupidity as she charged toward us. A couple moments later, she stopped within arm's reach, out of traffic, but too close for comfort. "You!" she said again.

  "Uh, me?" I flicked my head toward Jake. "Or him?"

  She looked from me to Jake. Her gaze narrowed. "Both of you."

  Jake spoke in a low, calm voice. "What do you want, Maddie?"

  Her eyes were blazing. "You know damn well what I want."

  If Jake didn't, I did. She wanted him.

  I felt a twinge of guilt when I considered that she and Jake had actually dated, if you could call it that. But all too soon, the guilt evaporated when I recalled the other stuff – the money she still owed me, the awful lies she'd been telling behind my back, and the fact that she'd given me absolutely no warning when she thought that Jake was one of my ex-boyfriends, looking to do me harm.

  "And you." She whirled toward me. "You owe me, sister."

  "I owe you?" I said. "You're kidding, right?"

  "Oh, I never kid about money." It was tru
e. Maddie was a stripper. If the stories were true, she'd once had a guy's arm broken for copping a feel and refusing to pay up.

  Jake stepped forward. "Listen," he told her, "you're done dealing with Luna. If there's a problem, you deal with me, okay?"

  Maddie gave a hard laugh. "Well aren't you the knight in shining armor?"

  I grabbed Jake's elbow. "Jake, I can handle this, alright?" After all, she was my former roommate.

  He turned toward me. "Baby—" Instantly, his lips slammed shut, and his face froze. I knew exactly what he was thinking – the same thing I was thinking. The term of endearment was horribly outdated, given the fact we were done, over, finished.

  Shoving aside the heartache, I turned to Maddie. "You know," I told her, "you've got a lot of nerve asking me for money, since you still owe me like two-hundred bucks."

  "I owe you? Get real." Her tone grew snotty. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

  "Yeah," I said, looking at her wrist. "Apparently, my lucky bracelet."

  It wasn't like the piece was expensive. It was just some chunky red plastic thing that I'd won at the hometown corn festival of all places. But I had wondered when it went missing a few weeks earlier. Come to think of it, my luck had gotten noticeably worse since its disappearance.

  Maddie raised her hands wide. "You want it? Come and get it."

  I gave the bracelet a speculative look. Was it really worth a hair-pulling street-side spectacle? "Nah, you keep it," I said. "Ever since Leon barfed on it…" Shuddering, I made a face. "Well, you know."

  The story wasn't quite as far-fetched as it sounded. Leon, who lived one floor above Maddie, was a notorious barfer, especially on Saturday nights.

  Maddie gave me the squinty eye. "You're just trying to gross me out."

  "Don't blame me," I said. "Blame Leon."

  "Oh yeah?" She tugged the bracelet off her wrist. "Well, blame this, hoochie mama!" She hurled it onto the pavement, where it bounced once and rolled past my feet to settle somewhere under Jake's car.

  "Gee, thanks," I said.

  "Gee," she mocked, "you're not welcome."

  "I uh, pretty much figured that."

  Next to me, Jake spoke. "Maddie—"

  I whirled toward him. "It's fine," I said. "Really. I can handle this."

  Maddie gave a hard laugh and mimicked me, school-kid style. "It's fine. I can handle this."