“Like I didn’t save your ass right back, you asshole,” she says, bitingly.
“Exactly. That’s what you and I do. We save each other from our stupid ass selves. It’s your turn.”
“Fine, what do you want me to do?”
“Call her. Take her out for a drink. Offer her a place to stay.”
“What? I don’t even know this girl and you want me to offer up my spare bedroom?”
“You’ll like her, Violet. She’s cool; a total badass just like yourself. You two will hit it off swimmingly. I’ll send you cash to cover the rent for the next few months.”
“I’ll call her, Paxton, but I’m not promising anything. If she’s some nut ball then I’m not taking her crazy ass in. If I end up in some kind of mess because of this then just remember, you’re up next. And my next favor will be a doozie Paxton, I promise you, I’ll make it huge.”
“Got it.”
She lets out a low whistle then says, “Give it up, what’s the poor girl’s number?”
I give it to her feeling a little bit better that Jessa will be in Violet’s hands. If Jessa needed me, if she needed anyone, if shit was going down in her life, she wouldn’t ask for help. But Violet will let me know. If Jessa finds a new fuck buddy/ potential boyfriend, Violet can tell me that too. If I have to intervene, she’ll let me know.
“Santos,” I yell when I catch him heading out the sliding glass door with his angel girl. “Call me and let me know how it goes,” I tell Vi.
“That’s it? You’re hanging up on me?”
“You got my number now, call me whenever you want but I gotta go. I’ll talk to you soon, Vi.”
“You’re lucky I love you, asshole,” she tells me before the line goes dead.
I put my phone in my back pocket and head back up to the deck. “Can we get the hell out of here now?” I ask, running my eyes over the girl who looks like she just got worked over.
“You gotta chill the hell out, cuz. You’ve been one high-strung asshole since you came back.” He takes his arm off the girl, turns her around and spanks her ass. She takes the hint and walks away. Santos slaps my back, then pulls me into a hug. He always was a touchy bastard. “I still can’t believe you’re home. And you never have to go back to that bitch ever again.”
I give Santos a tight smile, wishing the kid didn’t know so much about me. About her. I never talk about any of that shit with him, but Gabriel gets on his tangents.
“Seriously… relax – it’s just Malibu. That ocean you’re staring at is the same one you were surfing in this morning. It’s all good, man. No more cows or McMansions for you. Only the sun and the waves. It’s the only way to live. I don’t know how you were livin’ any other way but you’re here now, so relax.”
“I wasn’t, man, I wasn’t living. My life’s just been on pause up until now.”
“That’s a shame,” he tells me, slapping me on the back. “But now that you’re finally home we’re going to start living like we always knew we would, right?”
“Yeah. I’m ready.”
“Things never seemed right when you were gone. I hated watching you go at the end of the summer. I mean, shit, everything good that ever happened to me happened while I was with you. Hell, we lost our virginity in the same damn room. Can’t get much closer than that,” Santos pauses to laugh his ass off and slap me on the back again. “And now, me and you cuz, it’s permanent.”
“Hell, yeah,” I say as reality starts to hit me, washing away all the other shit running through my head. Santos is like my brother and runnin’ free with him is second nature. It’s in my blood and this is the only place my blood has ever been part of me. This is my family. This is my home. This is where I was meant to be. I need to let my past and everything in it go so I can finally start living.
Chapter 3 - Jessa
The break up with Dylan was less than stellar. Paxton’s words had me feeling like the hypocrite I was trying not to be. Just hearing his voice and listening to him set me straight had me all pumped up. So I literally sprinted on into the dorm and told Dylan straight up that I was done. That I was bored and that I couldn’t stand his lips on mine anymore. It was brutal. I should have taken a second to breathe before I walked into that dorm and humiliated him in front of his ‘bros’.
The only upside to that tactic is that he was so shocked and pissed that it didn’t even occur to him to grovel or plead with me. In order to save face, he basically had no choice but to tell me to get my ass out of his room. Which I did. Happily.
By the time I made it back to my own dorm, good old Will had already called Taylor and shared his feelings about how awful it was and how sorry he felt for Dylan. Needless to say, it’s been icy in Taylor’s and my shared box. But there is an upside to that too because the schnapps sipping parties have moved a few doors down.
And now I’m blissfully alone. In fact, I’m avoided like the plague. I guess I deserve it because I was awful to him, so… yay for him - he came here because of me and now he’s running the place and I’m a leper. Figures. Relationships. They are so damn messy and pointless.
As I walk to my room I see a note on the message board attached to mine and Taylor’s door. The words read, ‘Burn In Hell SLUT!’ I stutter a laugh. Um… okay. I didn’t know breaking up with your boyfriend was a big enough sin to warrant eternal damnation, but clearly we don’t have any religious studies majors on this floor. I run the sleeve of my leather jacket across the words but they don’t wipe away. Permanent marker. Genius.
When I open the door Taylor is, of course, not here. She’s been sleeping elsewhere ever since the Big Breakup of 2014 went down. I throw my messenger bag on the bed and sit down, staring at the wall. After class I went to the library to get all my work done and then found some dive diner that, miraculously, I had never been taken to on a date. It’s seven o’clock. I have nothing to do.
My phone rings and when I look at it it’s a local area code, which can’t be good. “Hello,” I say with some attitude because I don’t have any friends in Chicago- only people who want me to die a long, hot death.
“Is this Jessa?” a sweet, feminine voice asks me. Probably one of Taylor or Dylan’s minions.
“Who’s this?” I mutter.
The girl lets out a long breath. “This is Violet. I’m a friend of Paxton’s. He asked me to call you.”
“Oh, shit. Sorry about the attitude, I was expecting someone else.”
“Not a problem. Paxton said you’re having a rough time at the dorms and thought you might like to make some new friends. You want to come out tonight?”
“I didn’t think he was serious when he told me he was going to send someone to help me out.” I think out loud.
“Well, he was. Are you in or what?”
“Yeah. I’m in.”
#
A crappy, old Jetta pulls up in front of the dorm, which I guess is my new friend Violet. I’m kind of feeling like a charity case but a friend of Paxton’s is better than the nonexistent friends of mine.
I open the door and see a dainty little thing with big dimples and a fall of purple, green and blue hair sitting behind the wheel. “Get in,” she tells me.
I do, with a smile. This girl is refreshing already. With no introductions made, Violet turns up the volume of her car stereo and The Go Go’s, We’ve Got the Beat, comes blaring out of the speakers. Violet starts bopping around and singing at the top of her lungs and I start laughing. Probably the most enjoyable seconds of my college life thus far.
By the time we roll down Western Avenue and pull to a stop I’m yelling out the lyrics to Johnny Are You Queer? along with Violet.
“Gotta let go with my girls before I can party properly,” she tells me. “I’m Violet.” She smiles and offers me her hand.
“Jessa. Nice to meet you.”
“You too,” she says, stepping out of the car.
We walk into the dive bar and my skin prickles as it comes to life. I breathe in the non-sterilized ro
om and feel myself grinning like a total fledgling idiot as I follow Violet who is making her way towards the bar like she owns the place. The girl can’t be more than 5’3 but her demeanor is that of a hulking badass. The bartender calls her by name and asks what she wants. She orders a gin and tonic, then looks to me. “I’ll have a vodka cranberry,” I say, trying to sound confident.
“Can I see your i.d.?” the guy asks with furrowed eyebrows.
“She’s a friend of Paxton’s,” Violet tells him.
The guy narrows his eyes at me. “I’ve never seen her.”
“She’s from Minnesota, from that town his mom sent him off to.”
He smiles then. “How’s that asshole doing? Is he in town?”
“Good,” I tell him, wondering… what the hell? “He’s in California, with his dad.”
“Yeah? Good for him.” He turns away to go make our drinks.
I turn my questioning eyes to Violet. “He’s gonna serve me… just because I know Paxton?”
“He didn’t tell you a whole hell of a lot, did he?”
“No.”
She grabs our drinks off the bar and proceeds to a small booth in the back corner. She runs her eyes over me with a smirk on her face. “So what’s the deal with the two of you?” she asks me.
“What does that mean? Are you asking if we hooked up?” I presume, based on the look she’s giving me.
“Yep.”
“No.”
She raises her eyebrows at me like she doesn’t quite believe me.
“What? We didn’t. What have you done with him?”
Her mouth pops open like she’s shocked. “Ha! Me and Paxton. No, no, no. Let me explain something- Paxton is a man whore and I do not screw man whores. You’d do best to stay away too because screwing Paxton is the kiss of death. He won’t speak to you ever again.”
A disbelieving laugh bursts out of my mouth. “Seriously? That’s what he was about?”
She cocks her head and narrows her eyes at my response. “Yes, that’s what he’s about. I think at some point he was less of a womanizer. But I’m pretty sure that kid is long forgotten.”
“Wow. I mean, I get the very vivid impression that he’s gotten his share of women since he left River Bluff, but when he was there I don’t think he touched anyone.”
“Please, you are full of shit,” she laughs.
“I’m serious. In fact, for a while he was in a contrived relationship with my best friend in order to avoid women all together.”
“He slept with her.”
“He did not.”
Her eyebrows are up again.
“Trust me. Emily was in love with someone else. Like, you know… the love of her life and all that good stuff.” I can’t help the way my face contorts into disgust.
Violet laughs. “You are a cynical romantic.”
“Cynical for sure. I don’t know about the romantic part. So how do you know Paxton and why did the bartender serve me because I know him?”
“What has he told you about his life pre – refugee?”
I shrug, not wanting to admit how little I actually know about him, especially since Violet clearly knows him very well. “He hates his mom and his stepdad and was excited to go live with his dad in California. He did something so shittastic that his mom felt the need to move him to Minnesota and pay him to stay away from Chicago.”
Violet looks at me like she’s waiting for me to go on. “That’s it?” she finally asks.
I shrug my shoulders. “He loves music and playing his guitar?”
“Well, in that case I’m gonna let you ask Paxton about the bartender. As far as he and I go, I used to date a friend of his. And when that friend screwed both of us over like the professional asshole he is, we helped each other deal and we’ve been friends ever since.”
“That sounds like Paxton. He’s pretty good at helping people out.”
“Yeah, he can be. Not many people know that though. Around here Paxton is a legend for many reasons- his temper and his willingness to kick the shit out of anyone who looks at him sideways is definitely one of them.”
I cock my head at her. Clearly the Paxton she knows and the Paxton I know are two different people.
“Oh my god… what? No fighting in Minnesota either?” She throws her hands up in the air like this is a bad thing. “Tell me about this boy who visited your town. This virginal pacifist.”
I roll my eyes at her. “It was obvious that he’s not a virginal pacifist, but he had decided before he got there that he wasn’t getting attached to anything or anyone in our town. That’s not the way it all worked out- he became really good friends with a lot of us- but apparently he managed to keep part of himself detached because I suddenly feel like I never really knew him at all.”
She gives me a tight smile like she’s just got so much juicy information in her mouth and she’s doing her damndest to hold it all in.
“It’s fine. I don’t need to know. Hopefully he’ll trust me enough to tell me one day,” I tell her but I’m annoyed and a little pissed. From the small amount I’ve gleamed from his current life in California I was already feeling like Paxton is not the guy I thought he was. Violet is making it very clear that that is correct. Not wanting to talk about your past is one thing, but acting like someone you’re not is different.
“All you really need to know is that Paxton cares about you. I mean, he called me up and told me I had to offer you the spare room in my apartment in order to get you out of the dorm. That’s not something he would do for just anyone.”
“Ha,” I laugh at her. “I’m sorry, that’s ridiculous. What did he think you were going to say, ‘yes, send the girl over and I’ll get her all set up’?”
“Well, I did. I mean, you can come stay with me if you want to.”
“What? Why would you agree to that? You don’t even know me. That’s insane.”
She shrugs her shoulders. “It’s Paxton. I’d do just about anything for him. Plus, you seem totally normal and… I mean this is not really relevant… but he’s going to pay rent for me.”
All I can do is shake my head at her. Before I can speak there is a man in my seat and one in Violet’s too. My guy immediately wraps his arm around me and when I look up at him I’m not offended. He’s got dark hair and pretty green eyes and a nice smile. “Who’s your friend, Violet?” he asks her.
“This is Jessa. She’s a friend of Paxton’s. I’m looking out for her… for him.”
The guy takes his arm off my shoulder and starts drumming his thumbs against the table. Everyone is suddenly silent and I’m dying to know what the drama, or respect, or whatever happens to people at this place when Paxton’s name is brought up, is about. The guy is leaned forward now, he turns his head and gives me a crooked smile, stopping his thumb drumming and offering me his hand. “I’m Billy.” He pauses and I feel like I should say, ‘Right, Billy. Paxton’s told me all about you.’ But of course I’ve never heard that name come out of Paxton’s mouth.
“He’s a friend of Paxton’s. They know each other from around the bar,” Violet pipes in and Billy gives her a perplexed look to which she shrugs her shoulders. “I don’t know what the hell’s going on. Paxton didn’t talk about his past with her. Obviously, it’s for a reason. I’m not saying shit.”
Billy laughs. “You his girl?” he asks me.
“No. I’m his friend.”
“Right,” he says like that’s completely unbelievable, just like Violet’s reaction. I’m over this conversation. All I really want to do is call Paxton and ream his ass for being such a walled off pussy.
“I need to get out,” I tell Billy.
He steps out and I already have my phone in hand. “She’s pissed,” the other guy in the booth says with a laugh.
Hell yeah, I’m pissed.
I head back through some dark hallway and past the bathrooms while dialing Paxton.
“What’s up, beso?”
“That’s a good fucking question, Paxton.
”
He lets out an amused laugh. “Already… with the mouth. What are you so worked up about, kid?”
“I’m at a bar with Violet… thank you, by the way, for sending her to me… and I’m learning that, apparently, I know not one god damn thing about you. I’ve been here for ten minutes and so far I’ve been served alcohol simply because I know you, I was questioned and doubted by Violet because she just cannot believe that we are not screwing and that you didn’t bang your way through River Bluff. Then some guy named Billy, who is pretty damn good looking, took his arm and his sexy eyes off of me the minute Violet told him I was your friend.”
“That motherfucker better back the hell off of you,” Paxton seethes.
“I’m sorry… am I speaking to Chicago Paxton? I heard he’s notorious for kicking the shit out of people. If you wouldn’t mind putting my friend Minnesota Paxton on the phone I would like him to explain what the hell is happening.”
“Seriously, Jessa, stay the hell away from Billy. You have no idea the depths he will stoop to in order to get laid. I know he’s got those pretty green eyes, but don’t fall for it.”
“Focus, Pax. We are talking about you, not Billy. And, by the way, if I want to get laid by Billy, I will. Or actually, I won’t. Because I have been hit with the label of Paxton’s friend. Which gets me alcohol in bars, yay, but is also a v-block, boo. But that’s beside the point. Before I have to go back to that booth and look like an ignorant little girl, you better give me some info.”
He takes a deep, annoyed, breath but then he says, “The bartender served you because, assuming you are at The Bottle, I used to play there along with Billy and the bartender is a friend of mine. The bit about kicking the shit out of people… I had an anger problem for a few years. It’s a Chicago thing, not something that’s a part of me. Billy stopped groping you because, besides Violet, I don’t have friends that are females so he assumed we have something going on and, despite those eyes, he’s my brother so he’s just respecting what he thinks is mine.”
“That’s lame, Paxton. I know you’re giving me the surface version. I know there’s more than that. Tell me about the, ‘man whore’, as Violet called you. Who’s that kid?”
A Son of Carver (Carver High #2) Page 36