“It’s complicated.” I opened the door all the way since he seemed calmer.
“Whatever, you’re right. It’s not my business, but I care about you.”
“Jaxon, if you’re trying to get in my pants, now is not the time.”
“Are you saying that I don’t care about you?” He stepped toward me. His scent washed over me. Even after a night of drunken brawling and sleeping on the couch, he smelled delicious. I took half a step back and looked up at him.
“I don’t know what you feel. I’m not in your head.”
He looked into my eyes and reached forward, gently bringing me closer. His mouth found mine and his breath became my breath. His hands pressed my back and pulled me forward, my soft breasts meeting the hard wall of his muscular chest. My body flushed with warmth as I sank into his embrace. He worked his mouth against mine passionately, but softly. His tongue reached out and it wasn’t like any kiss I’d ever had. It was more. It was even more than the first kiss we shared.
He pulled back but kept his arms wound around me. I had just enough room to look into his eyes. “Toots, by now you should realize that I care about you.”
What was I doing? Why didn’t I stop him? After everything I had seen him do. I lusted for him.
“Jaxon, I —”
“I want a date. If that cornhusk gets a date, I want one.”
“What about Shannon?”
“Who?” He flashed his gorgeous smile.
He looked and smelled amazing for having a long night of drinking. His arms felt tailor-made for my body. I wanted to stay there, but it was not a good idea. I broke the embrace and turned away.
“I can’t, Jaxon.”
I felt the room get colder.
“Last night you were kicked out of a bar for fighting. You were surrounded by beer bottles when I got home today.” I turned to look at him. He narrowed his eyes and gave me a cold stare. “I have promises to keep. I can’t spend my entire time at college drinking, screwing, and skipping class. I wouldn’t want to anyway.”
“So that’s what you think of me?”
“What do you want me to say? Do you want me to say that you’re the hottest guy I’ve ever met? Do you want me say that I dream about you, and I can hardly get through a day without thinking about your lips, your eyes, your body? I’ll say it, but it doesn’t matter.”
“I think you’ve said all you need to say, Elana.” He walked out of the room and down the hall to the living room.
I sat on the bed, trying to put everything out of my mind, tapping my feet, and biting my nails. That wasn’t how I wanted that to go. I wanted us to be friends, but anything more was impossible. I walked to the living room.
He was lying on the couch with his arm flung over his eyes. “Jaxon, we’re really good at being friends. I care about you, but I — “
“Elana,” he roared, sitting up. “I don’t need this shit from you, okay? I’m not one of those guys who wants the fucking friends speech. I thought there was something. There isn’t. Let’s move the fuck on. You think I’m trash; I get it.”
“You’re overreacting. I never said trash.”
“You basically called me a bar fighting, alcoholic slut,” he shouted.
“I didn’t. We just have different ideas of what college should be. I’m paying for this myself. I don’t have the luxury of screwing around.”
“Who the fuck do you think pays for my shit? Do you think I have a fucking fairy godmother?” He was off the couch and his muscular frame seemed to expand to fill the room. I took a step back, estimating the distance between me and the bedroom door.
“I don’t know, Jaxon. It’s not like you sit around telling me about your life and your feelings. I know what I see and I know what I’ve heard.”
“What you’ve heard? What the fuck are you even talking about?”
“I don’t think we need to keep yelling and swearing.”
“Really? Because I think yelling and swearing fits this bullshit conversation quite well.”
“You’re right. I don’t know your business, but you don’t share it either. Regardless of your situation, mine is this: I have to pay my own way through school. I have to succeed. I have nobody to help me.”
“Well, I’m sure Tiffany would be thrilled to hear you have no help. Probably as thrilled as I am. Because if someone gave me a free damn apartment and gave up his fucking bed for me, I’d feel like that was help.”
“You’re twisting my words.”
“No, Elana, I’m telling you what you’re saying to me. You just don’t like hearing it, because it makes you sound like an ungrateful bitch. And, you know what, you kind of are right now.”
“I’m trying to talk to you while you’re here. It’s kind of hard when you disappear every other day. We shared that first kiss and then I never saw you. What was I supposed to think? That’s not really a sign that we’re headed for some great romance or have some deep connection.”
“That couldn’t be helped,” he said in a calmer tone.
“Yeah, I’ve heard all about her. Amber read your text messages. She told me all about your girlfriend back home.”
“She what?!” The yelling was back. “She had no fucking right! And you! Why believe her?!” He grabbed his keys and wallet.
“Where are you going? We’re in the middle of a conversation.”
“No, Elana, we’re not. You’re in the middle of hurling accusations and I’m in the middle of leaving.”
“Big surprise.”
“Fuck you.”
The door shut and I heard his loud footsteps going down the stairs. I ran to the bedroom and buried my face in the pillows and tears streamed down my face. I cried until my eyes burned and my throat ached. Everything was a mess. I was exhausted, and didn’t understand how everything got so messed up. I wished we could have redid the entire conversation and not yell. Be reasonable and explain things. His temper didn’t allow that and it was wishful thinking that it could have gone differently. After laying and thinking about what had gone down I drifted asleep on the damp pillows.
Hours later, my phone buzzed and pulled me out of a deep sleep. My eyes were swollen from crying, but I could see through the blur that it was Cole calling.
“Hello?”
“Hey, babe. It’s Cole.”
“Hi.” I cleared my throat and tried to sound awake.
“Do you want to go out tonight? I have an idea for something fun.”
“I’m not sure, Cole. I’m kinda wiped out from last night.”
“Trust me, it’ll be worth it. Tiffany and Lance are already planning to meet us.”
“I’d have to get cleaned up. I’m a mess.”
“I’m sure you’re not but take as much time as you need. We’re not going until a few hours so text me when you want me come pick you up.”
“Ok. See you soon.”
I slammed my face on my pillow. I hoped that the three of them could get me out of my Jaxon funk. The good thing was, my day couldn’t get much worse.
Chapter 20
I was too upset to care about my outfit, so it didn’t take me long to get ready. I pulled on a loose, gray cotton tank dress and a pair of sandals. I didn’t have time for a long shower, so I hopped in and rinsed off without washing my hair. Pulling it into a low ponytail, I went to meet Cole in the parking lot.
He kissed me on the cheek as I got in the car. “You look great.”
“Well, not as great as last night.”
“Even better. You look like you tonight, comfortable.”
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”
“You’ll see. Sit back and relax. We’ll be there in a few minutes. It isn’t far.”
We drove down the street toward the club, but we turned before reaching it. We pulled up in front of a place called O’Reilly’s Irish Pub.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“It’s a place. You’ll see.”
“Just tell me.”
; “Nope, let’s go,” he said, getting out. I got out and followed him across the road. When we went inside Tiffany and Lance were already there. The lighting was very dim, making it hard to get a feel for the place. Round tables surrounded by chairs filled the main room. There were some booths towards the back, but almost everyone was sitting at the tables. Their chairs were positioned so they faced a small stage where a man was setting up a karaoke machine.
“You hate karaoke,” I said to Cole.
“But you love it,” he replied, kissing me softly.
Tiffany ran over and dragged me to the table. “Are you excited? We haven’t had time to come since you got here.”
“I haven’t been singing much since I got here. I don’t know if I can hit a note at this point.”
“Elana, the only voice I’ve ever heard that could compete with yours was your mother’s.”
She meant to make me feel better, but the words fell into the sinkhole where my heart used to be. My mother and I always sang together. My dad would take us both to karaoke night at a local restaurant every Wednesday until she was too sick to go. She could sing anything and make it sound beautiful.
“Well, I guess there’s nothing to lose,” I said.
She turned and seemed to notice my face for the first time. “Boys, we’re doing a girls’ trip to the ladies’ room. Try not to get into any trouble while we’re gone.” She took hold of my elbow and guided me to the back, past the booths, into the restroom. She locked the door and looked me up and down.
“You can’t hide tear stains from me, Elana. What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing. I’m having a great time with Cole. Great.”
“But?”
“Jaxon and I had a fight.”
“A fight? Did he hurt you? I’ll kill him!”
“No, not a physical fight. He asked me out and then things went downhill.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Later? Let’s just enjoy ourselves. I’m too tired to go into it tonight.”
“Okay,” she said, hugging me.
We walked back to the table and found Cole and Lance discussing cars. Cole had ordered me a ginger ale, and he had the karaoke song list ready for me.
“You guys are really going to make me do this?”
“I understand. This is a democracy, so let’s all vote. Who here wants to hear Elana sing?” Tiffany asked. All three of them raised their hands.
“Okay, okay. I get it. I’m singing. Let me pick something.”
The list had all kinds of pop favorites, but I wanted something special that wasn’t on it. I walked over to talk to the man running the karaoke machine.
“Sir?”
“It’s Tom.”
“Hi Tom, I’m Elana. I want to sing, but I’m looking for something that isn’t on the list. It’s old, but it’s got sentimental value.”
“Well, Miss Elana, I’ll do what I can to help. But you don’t look old enough for an old sentimental song.” He smiled. He looked like he was in his fifties and had a well-trimmed, white beard. He reminded me of an old friend of the family that would come over to work on the car with my dad.
“I’m looking for Danny’s Song by Anne Murray.”
“Even though we ain’t got money, I’m so in love with you honey,” he sang. “I’ve got that one, Miss Elana. I’ll put it in the cue for you.”
“Thanks, Tom.”
While other people performed, we laughed about old times, filling Lance in on the details. He was a good sport about it. He sat back slightly and watched Tiffany laughing. That was enough for him. He didn’t care if he knew the stories or not. He seemed to enjoy anything that made her happy. Cole was enjoying himself, too. He kept putting his arm on the back of my chair, reaching out to touch me every so often.
I tried to focus on the fun, but I was nervous about performing. It was karaoke at some little bar off campus, but I hadn’t tried to sing anywhere other than the shower in months. Everyone clapped when the last guy before me got off stage. He was terrible—missing half the words and never hitting a note—but they cheered his effort.
On stage, I leaned toward the microphone and started my song. Tiffany, Lance and Cole were silent and, after the first verse, the rest of the people were just as quiet. I closed my eyes slightly. My mother sang this song all the time to my father. She would sing it in the kitchen while she made dinner, in the car on our way to a race, in their bedroom as he drifted off to sleep. It was their song, but it always felt like mine, too. I could almost see her singing it to him after a race, smiling, wearing a summery dress. Only the sun could ever hope to be as bright as her smile.
I finished the song and came back to reality. Everyone was clapping and whistling. I’d forgotten how satisfying it was to be good at something. For months, my goal had been to get out of Iowa and survive freshman year. It was still early in the semester, but for the first time, I felt like I might be able to thrive here.
“What’d I tell you?” Tiffany said to Lance. “Beautiful, right?”
“Gorgeous, babe,” Cole said as he hugged me.
“Impressive, Elana,” Lance added. “I had no idea.”
“Thanks, guys. It’s been a while.”
“Nobody could tell.”
“What’s your next number?” Cole asked.
“Let me ease back into it. I’m not ready to just sing all night.”
“That is fine Elana,” Tiffany said, smiling.
“I think I need a minute.”
“Are you okay? Need to talk?”
“No, I’ll be fine Tiff.”
I went to the ladies’ room and splashed cold water on my face. The joy of success faded slightly when I saw my reflection. Sometimes it was a great comfort to see my mother’s face looking back at me, but sometimes my reflection made me miss her more. I know that it never helped my father. He could see her when he looked at me. There were some differences, but not many. As time went on, I seemed to develop her mannerisms too, as if how she held her fork or brush her hair out of her eyes was genetic. I could feel it as I wiped my face with one of the rough, newspaper towels in the bathroom. I’d watched her remove her makeup and get ready so many times that every gesture was indelibly imprinted in my memory. I could feel her hands on my face.
Taking a deep breath and opening my eyes wide, I stifled some rogue tears. This was a good night. There was no reason to cry. I’m a freaking crybaby.
On my way back to the table, Tom approached me. He was smiling and reached out to shake my hand.
“Well, well, Miss Elana, you didn’t mention that you were a certifiable superstar.”
“Hardly, Tom, more like a lucky bar patron.”
“You go to school at the university?”
“Yes, I started in September.”
“Find yourself a job yet? Or is daddy paying for everything?” He smiled at his own joke, but he stopped when he saw my reaction. “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”
“No, really, it’s nothing and no, no job yet. Everyone around here seems to have all the staff they need.”
“Well, I don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Have all the staff I need. I could sure use some help on nights like this, keeping people entertained and all.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“A couple of things, but for starters it would be great if someone else could host this karaoke night. The place is always packed, but nobody wants to watch an old guy with a gray beard running the show. I could use someone that could sing a song or two during any lulls and knows how to run the machine. You think you could handle that?”
“Are you serious? Yes! Yes, I can handle that.”
“Well, there’s more, but you’ve got your friends here. Why don’t you come by one afternoon when you’re done with classes? We can talk about it. Settle the details.”
“Oh my god, thank you! You won’t regret it.”
“You might,” he joked. “I could
be a terrible boss.”
“Even that would be better than no job,” I said.
“Ok, go have fun. I’ll see you soon.”
I made my way back to the table and when I sat down, they barely noticed I was gone. They were all laughing about some new thing. I thought about telling them what Tom said, but I decided to keep it for myself for a little while.
“Am I the only one getting hungry?” I asked.
“Nope, I’m starved,” Lance said.
“Pizza all around?” Cole offered.
“Yeah, but not here. It’s awful. Let’s head over to Mario’s,” Tiffany said. She always knew the best place to get a slice. It was one of her many talents and one of the many reasons I was so lucky to have her as my best friend.
I was exhausted from a long, eventful day. When we were done eating, I asked Cole if we could go home. He understood and asked me to go back to the hotel with him. I wasn’t looking forward to going back to Jaxon’s after our fight, so I quickly accepted.
As always, Cole was a gentleman. He kissed me as we sat on the couch in the hotel room, but he didn’t push things. He felt like home, but something was different in the kiss. When Jaxon kissed me, the universe shifted. When Cole kissed me, we stayed rooted to a motionless couch. It was like going home.
Everything back home was awful though.
While he slept, I watched him again. My mother always told me to push myself. Don’t get so comfortable that you forget to take risks, she would say. It was odd advice from a woman that married her high school sweetheart. I know she loved my father like fish love the sea, but she worried that she’d missed out on things.
During one of our last conversations in the hospital, she made me promise that I would go to college and try everything life had to offer, except, she said, no boys, no drama. It wasn’t that I should avoid boys altogether. She was never like that. She knew kids grew up and had sex and went to parties. But she wanted me to focus on things beyond what was right in front of me.
She died right before I started high school. She knew that meant boys and drama and rebellion and all of those things were right around the corner, but she wouldn’t be there to guide me. She tried to distill all of her advice into one small mantra.
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