by Ali Dean
Jace shrugs, like he didn’t even notice there were girls here. “Don’t know.”
My gaze lingers on the tall girl by the keg. She looks familiar, and when her eyes dart our way again between pours, I realize she was one of the girls with Clayton when he came to the Tavern the other night. That must explain why she won’t stop staring at me. And Jace, it doesn’t escape my notice. Though she’s not the only girl doing this.
The number of people around the fire pit rapidly increases. Jace is eventually crowded by other guys – teammates or other athletes, most of them congratulating him on the game and offering him a drink. He introduces me to everyone, letting them know I’m his girlfriend, but I feel out of place. This is Jace’s time to shine and I feel like a burden. Would he be having more fun without me? The girls won’t stop ogling him, and their interest in me turns hostile as Jace continues to ignore them. But Jace keeps tugging me closer and offering brief kisses on my head, reassuring me that he prefers me at his side. Holding me to him like an anchor. And I sigh into that thought, trying to let go of the negative doubts that infiltrate whenever he’s on display like this. Will I ever get used to it?
“Pepper!” Someone calls my name and I glance around before finding Kayla Chambers waving enthusiastically from the front porch of a house. “Hey! Hi guys!” she continues shouting as she makes her way toward us. Heads swing in her direction and I get the feeling she’s purposefully attracting attention.
When she leans in to give Jace a hug, I realize she’s the only girl who’s approached him all night, despite how many have lurked at our periphery. Interesting. Maybe I look more intimidating than I feel.
Kayla and Jace hung out on a regular basis throughout high school, and I know they’ve shared memories with mutual friends that I wasn’t a part of. I’m okay with that. What bothers me is that Kayla also shares intimate memories with him. Jace was with a lot of girls before me, and I know none of them were serious. But still, the jealousy is there. And it’s worse that she probably slept with him, and, well, we haven’t done that together yet.
Kayla hugs me, too, but it doesn’t escape my notice that she went straight for Jace. I don’t suspect she’s trying to pull a move on him or anything, she knows us well enough to know we’re in a serious relationship, but I’m not stupid. Hugging Jace Wilder just elevated her social status to a whole new level. She’s not just a hot freshman sorority girl anymore. Now she’s one with power.
Before Jace and I got together, Kayla annoyed me like you might expect the most popular girl in her grade who’s buddies with my crush would annoy me. But once I got to know her, she was cooler than I expected. And she had my back when Madeline Brescoll tried to get between me and Jace. Despite that, my guard is up right now. She’s pledging with a sorority and as a freshman she’s got something to prove. It’s not like she’s got her status established at the top of the food chain like she did at Brockton Public.
Warily, I hug her back, but I’m sure my face shows my suspicions because she looks away from me, back to Jace, smiling broadly. Jace isn’t stupid either, and I feel his arm tighten around me.
“What’s up, Kayla?” he asks in a tone that indicates his question is more than casual.
“You gu-uys!” she sing-songs. “You aren’t having enough fun! So serious. Why don’t you come on into the house and I can show you around?”
“We’re good out here,” Jace says. I glance at the house I hadn’t paid attention to before, realizing this must be the home of Theta Kapp.
“You sure? We’ve got something that will ensure a really good night,” she says, lowering her voice and wiggling her eyebrows knowingly.
She should know better. I glare at her. “Seriously, Kayla?”
I’ve never done drugs before and Jace hasn’t in nearly a year. Not to get all self-righteous here, but Jace definitely can’t afford that kind of partying with the spotlight on him. Not to mention all the other reasons.
Kayla straightens up, and I notice her pupils are dilated. “Chill, Pepper. We’re discreet.” Her voice is condescending, and I don’t like it. “Besides, Jace wouldn’t be the only one on his team letting loose after a great game.”
“That’s not very discreet, now, is it?” Jace’s voice is low with suppressed anger.
“Jeez, Jace, you used to be so much fun,” she huffs and then her eyes widen when she takes in our expressions. She’s gone too far. And she knows it.
“What are you trying to say?” I’m not afraid to stand up for myself anymore. If she wants to hash this out, I’m game.
Her stuttering is interrupted by Gage Fitzgerald, who throws his arm around Kayla. “Kayla bear!” he greets her jovially. “Let’s not forget we have an audience,” he says quietly in her ear before looking pointedly at me and then Jace.
An audience doesn’t bother me. We’re not saying anything I’m uncomfortable with others overhearing. But Kayla blanches under Gage’s arm.
Speaking loudly now, Gage says to Jace, “Hey man, ran into your pal Wes the other day.”
I’m back on alert, not liking the way he said pal. That was weeks ago. Where is he going with this?
Jace remains silent, refusing to encourage Gage.
“He was at the creek with your girl, here.” Gage nods at me. He’s testing Jace for a reaction, and fortunately Jace doesn’t give him one. He’s better at reining it in than he used to be. Besides, I already told Jace about that excursion. He didn’t seem thrilled, and I didn’t feel right about it either, so I’ve tried to avoid one-on-one hanging out with Wes since.
“Are you trying to imply something?” Jace sounds threatening, and I’m happy he’s forced Gage to get right to the point. He doesn’t do well at pretending to be nice. Or oblivious for that matter. Gage wants something, and he might as well let us know what it is.
Frankie has joined us, and when I glance at him it registers that he’s protective of me and Jace. Or maybe just Jace, and me by association. It’s reassuring, and even though I don’t know him very well, I trust him for some reason. He looks like a bodyguard standing there, legs wide, arms crossed, buzz cut and serious expression aimed at Gage.
I almost let out a giggle, but instead I just smile and nod at Frankie, who lets down his warrior attitude for a moment to wink at me.
Gage has backed off a little from his cocky tone. He raises his hands in a “take it easy” gesture. “I’m not implying anything, Wilder. If you’re cool with Pepper here sunbathing in a string bikini with another guy, or a whole bunch of other guys as it turned out, then…”
He doesn’t get to finish his sentence. Jace lets go of me so fast I almost lose my balance. But before he can throw a punch, Frankie is there, holding him back and telling him to think about what he’s doing.
“You heard what the fucker said,” Jace says through clenched teeth.
“Yeah, and it’ll be all over the Internet in an hour if you don’t back off,” Frankie reasons.
Other guys from the football team have joined us, and Gage seems to recognize he’s screwed up.
“Look man, I’m not trying to be an asshole. Just looking out for you,” Gage takes a step back as he says this, bringing Kayla with him. She’s clearly not entirely with it, though, because her eyes are darting around unfocused and she’s unsteady on her feet. High or drunk or both, I don’t really care.
“Don’t,” Jace tells him harshly.
“Wes is around here somewhere.” Gage gestures in a circle. “I’m sure he can clear up any misunderstanding.”
Jace’s jaw clenches and I reach for him, unsure how close he is to losing it.
“Frankie, where’s the keg?” Jace asks, without taking his eyes off Gage, who keeps backing away until he’s swallowed by the crowd.
Before Frankie responds, someone has handed Jace a red solo cup full to the brim, which he immediately chugs. Jace’s grasp on my hand is tight and I expect him to lead me away from the party, but instead he leads me to a chair by the fire and pulls me on
to his lap.
“What’s his problem?” I ask, unable to restrain my curiosity, even if Jace is better off being distracted right now. “Last I knew he was sucking up to you.”
Jace rubs his forehead. “It’s complicated.”
“Secrets aren’t cool,” I remind him. I’m confused, because most of the ugly in Jace’s life comes from his past.
“We will have to get cozier if we want to keep this private.” He squeezes my hips and smirks, and some of the tension I’m carrying lifts. He hasn’t closed himself off.
“Like this?” I tease, straddling and facing him in front piggy-back style. Now it’s just the two of us, our faces inches apart. I don’t care if everyone is staring. Being Jace Wilder’s girlfriend has made me bolder. Stronger. I have to be able to handle the ugly in his life.
As I settle onto his lap, Jace’s eyes close and his head tilts back. I inhale sharply, his handsome features striking me as they have millions of times before, and I wonder if it will ever stop. Light flickers from the fire over his sharp jawline and cheekbones, and I study the curve of his lips, tracing my finger along them.
“Wes used to sell to Gage,” Jace begins, reminding me why I’ve positioned myself this way. I remain expressionless. He doesn’t know that Wes already told me this. “I didn’t like it. I knew Gage was bad news. He’s powerful. Did you know his grandfather was a senator?”
I shake my head. No. But I’m not surprised.
“Even though we dealt to a lot of UC guys, we tried to keep a low profile. There wasn’t a lot of competition for what we were selling,” he pauses and cringes, “so we could afford to be selective about who we distributed to. Anyway, Wes got to know the Sig Beta frat and was convinced Gage was an arrogant prick but would be a good customer. I told him not to, but…” Jace shrugs.
“He did anyway,” I finish. Wes is one of the few people who can get away with pissing off Jace without losing his trust or friendship. “So, then what?” I still don’t get how this leads to what just happened.
“I’m sure Gage knew or suspected Wes and I worked together or whatever, but Wes can be smart about some shit, at least, and he recently confirmed that Gage was prodding about me but Wes didn’t tell him shit.”
Jace glances up and Frankie is holding two bottles of beer. Jace grins and takes them. “Thanks man.”
“Anytime,” Frankie says, and I know they are talking about more than the beer.
Jace offers me one but I shake my head. He puts them both down on the ground and tugs me closer.
“So Gage was a real dick to Wes when he stopped dealing. It was fucking weird. You wouldn’t think that anyone would take losing a drug dealer personally, but Gage treated it like a breakup. I don’t think the dude even uses himself, but it’s like he got off on selling to his frat brothers or something. He also liked being buddies with Wes, I think. Who knows?” Jace’s eyes drift from mine, and I can tell that question makes him think about his own reasons for doing what he did.
But Jace never self-contemplates for long. “Anyway, we hadn’t heard anything from him until he started kissing my ass when preseason started. I’d actually never officially met the guy before that day in the parking lot. They help everyone on the team with moving, but shit like that has kept happening. He’s always inviting me to events he says are exclusive, like I should be honored to get to go. Eventually he wouldn’t go away so I had to be a little bit of an asshole,” Jace explains, like, what the hell else was I supposed to do?
“And he didn’t take it well?”
“Apparently not.” Jace reaches down to take a long pull from a beer.
“So, no motive in taunting you like he did? Just being immature about getting his feelings hurt because you didn’t want to be his friend?” The fact that Gage tried really hard to be Jace’s buddy isn’t odd. I’m sure most of the fraternity presidents suck up to him. Who wouldn’t want Jace Wilder at their parties?
“I don’t know. Maybe.” Jace frowns, unsure. “He’s brought up Wes a few times and I got the feeling he was trying to prod me somehow. This was the first time he’s brought you up, but I guess he’s been saving that dig for the right moment. Not sure why tonight was it.”
“I think he was fucked up. Did you see Kayla? Maybe they were both on something and just acting stupid,” I suggest.
“Can’t we just hide away and avoid all this drama?” Jace asks.
“What fun would that be?” I joke. We both know that’s impossible. And besides, Jace likes being around people, being a leader. It’s who he is. He didn’t want to go back to the dorm tonight because the people around us rejuvenate him – mostly – and fill him with a sense of purpose. I’ve accepted that about him, but now he needs to accept it about himself.
Chapter 9
I spend the night in Jace’s dorm for the first time. Between classes and morning workouts, I’ve tried to make it a habit to go home and sleep in my own bed. I don’t think Gran would disapprove so that’s not an issue. It’s that Jace’s dorm bed is tiny and it’s always noisy. We both need to stay focused and we can’t afford a bad night’s sleep. But I wake this morning to Jace’s hand on my tummy, his body curled around me. I love being the little spoon.
Unfortunately, I’m going to have to make my way to the shared bathrooms. Swinging my legs around and standing up, I grab hold of the dresser as the weight sends shooting pain through my legs, searing my shins in particular. They’ve ached in the mornings on occasion – okay, maybe every morning for the past few weeks, if I’m honest – but the pain is so intense in this moment I can barely walk. My left one in particular feels like a knife is slicing through it. Sucking in a breath, I sit back down on the bed and begin to gently massage the tendons running along my shins. They finally loosen up enough to allow me to hobble to the bathroom. When I limp back to bed, Jace cracks an eyelid.
“You okay, Pep?” he mumbles from the pillow.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “Just achy from the race yesterday. Go back to sleep.”
He pulls me in next to him. “Sounds like you could use a massage.”
“I bet you could too.” I squeeze his biceps playfully.
Jace tenderly rubs his hands over my legs and begins to mold my muscles, gently at first before adding pressure. It’s the sweetest way to wake up. If only I hadn’t attempted to walk first. Maybe I could have continued to deny what’s happening to my shins. Maybe I still will.
By the time we’re through with a thorough exchange of massages, we’re starved. We’d normally walk to Hal’s, our favorite greasy spoon diner, but we’re too famished, so we take Jace’s Jeep instead. One perk to the athletes’ dorm is that they have their own parking lot. Despite the massage loosening up my muscles a bit, my shins still hurt and I probably look like an old granny with arthritis as I hobble to the passenger side.
Jace often has aches and pains after games, but he knows this is unusual for me. I try to brush it off because I can’t handle his concern. Denial is the best approach right now. Sometimes people run through these things. My friend who graduated with Jace’s class, and my former co-captain, Claire Padilla, once had hip pain early in the season. I don’t remember her taking any time off and it just went away on its own. As long as I keep weight training I’ll get strong enough to push through this.
Jace takes pity on me and drops me off right in front of the diner before finding parking farther down the street. As he pulls away and I turn to the door, relieved there isn’t any sign of people waiting for a table, the front door swings open. When I see it’s Ryan Harding, I immediately try to walk normally, praying he didn’t catch me limping a moment earlier. I don’t want a lecture.
Even worse, he’s with his dad, the coach of the UC team, the team I want to be on next year.
“Hi Ryan.” I raise my hand in a wave and nod at his dad. “Hi, Mr. Harding.”
“Pepper! How are you? And you know it’s Mark.” He gives me a brief hug, which prompts Ryan to do the same. I haven’t seen him si
nce that day outside the gym, right after he broke up with Lisa. And I never did return his phone call.
I’ve seen Ryan’s parents at enough races to feel fairly comfortable with them. But Mark is still the head coach of the team I plan to be on, and I’m always a little nervous around him, wanting to make a good impression. Ryan’s younger brother, Kevin, is a freshman at Brockton Public this year, and he’s already one of the fastest runners on the varsity team. They congratulate me on the race yesterday and we talk about how Kevin’s first high school race went – good, neutral territory. I’m about to ask Ryan about his training when I feel Jace behind me.
This might be the most awkward introduction ever. “Mr. Harding, this is Jace Wilder, the guy I dumped your son for.” I don’t actually say that, but I don’t need to. Judging by the way Mark is sizing up Jace, he knows exactly who he is. But they surprise me, greeting each other with handshakes, having met before. I often forget that Ryan and Jace hung out with the same group of friends. It dawns on me that they may have even spent time together this fall at UC. Weird.
After rehashing the football game with Jace, we say our goodbyes. I can feel Ryan watching me as we walk into the diner and I hope he doesn’t notice the stiffness in my gait.
We order our usual $4.99 special, with Jace getting coffee and me orange juice.
“You know he’s still got it bad for you, right?” Jace asks.
My eyes dart to his. “You heard what Lisa is saying about why they broke up?” I ask, knowing it’s not just that. Ryan once told me he could tell Jace felt more than friendship toward me, and I wonder if Jace has the same ability to read other guys. Ryan’s certainly more transparent than Jace is about his feelings.
Jace’s lips curve into a smile and he laughs softly, shaking his head. He blows on his coffee before taking a sip. “No, Pep. I mean, yeah, I hear what people say about that, but it was obvious before they broke up.”