“Alex, can I get a beer?” he asked.
“Sure thing,” she said. I was impressed by how well she hid the fact that we had just been talking about him, and not necessarily respectable talk, either.
“What are you doing here?” Shawn asked, as if the bar was only permitted to those of us with useless social skills and zero charisma.
“Having a drink,” Jackson said, nodding a thank you at Alex as she handed him a beer. “Is that okay with everyone?”
“Fine by me,” I said, and sipped my drink. I could feel the buzz go to my head, and for the first time that day some of my anxieties and worries began to fade away.
“It’s whatever,” Shawn said. He adjusted the glasses that were perched on his nose and sighed heavily. It was clearly not just whatever, but Jackson didn’t seem to care one way or the other what Shawn thought of him being there. “I have to go anyway,” he said, digging into his pocket for a wad of crumpled dollar bills. Shawn slapped some on the counter for Alex, gathered up his jacket, and walked out, but not before shooting me a knowing look as he passed. I ignored it because I was still trying to fight the urge to bloody his nose.
“He’s a bit of a douche, isn’t he?” Jackson said as Shawn sulked out the door. I snorted and rolled my eyes.
“He thinks the same thing of you, Tate.”
“Well, yeah, but I know I’m a douche. He’s a douche without realizing he’s a douche, and that makes him even douchier.”
“He’s a good man,” I said, and Jackson didn’t have to know how wonderful Shawn hadn’t just been . . . to any of us.
“He’s a dork.”
“So am I.”
“So are you,” Jackson agreed. “I guess that means you two are perfect for each other.”
“We’re not together. I’ve told you that six thousand and eight times now,” I said. Jackson said nothing to this, but he was still eyeing the door Shawn had disappeared through.
“You’re straight, aren’t you?” he asked finally. “I mean, I know Alex prefers tacos to hot dogs but is that the case with you, too?”
“You are such a dick,” I said, and Alex flipped him the bird. “It is funny you bring that up, though, because just recently I figured it was about time you returned the wingman favor to me.” The truth was, I hadn’t been thinking about it . . . not even a little bit. But any chance to make Jackson uncomfortable for a turn and I’d take it and run.
“What?” he said. Apparently, I wasn’t speaking his language anymore. A man for me? Oh, the horror.
“Well, I mean, come on. You didn’t think I’d be the only one finding a piece of ass for you, now did you? I’m a human being. I have needs, too,” I said.
“Oh, is that what you are? A human being?” Jackson sipped at his beer. “I wasn’t sure there for a while.”
“Shut up.” I punched him in the arm and turned in my seat to check out what kind of options I might have tonight. Unlike Jackson, I had standards, and none of these guys were doing it for me.
“Have you picked someone yet?” Jackson asked after a few minutes. “Preferably before my ass fuses to this seat?” He turned to scope out the bar with me, and the scent of aftershave and spicy cologne wafted in my direction. From the corner of my eye, I saw his arm muscles contract as he laced his hands behind his head and leaned back against the counter. Despite my sudden yearning to reach out and run my fingers up and down his arm, I cleared my throat and tried to focus on something—anything—else.
“I’m trying exceedingly hard not to slap you right now,” I said. “Stop asking for it.”
“What about him?” Jackson asked, and pointed to a dorky looking guy with braces and chronic acne. I glared at Jackson, doing my best stink eye. At least, I tried to give him the stink eye, but it wasn’t working in my favor.
“What’s wrong with your face?” Jackson asked, so I elbowed him instead. “Why are you always beating me up?” he whined, rubbing the sore spot.
“How about that guy?” Alex said. She leaned between us and pointed to a boyishly cute, athletic blond who was reading a book and sipping a drink.
“I could be okay with that,” I said. Jackson raised his eyebrows, looking anything but impressed.
“Loser,” he said.
“Why is he a loser?” I demanded. “Because he’s cute? He looks sweet? Because he knows how to read and you don’t? What could it possibly be?”
“I don’t know,” Jackson said with a sigh. “He just looks like a jackass.”
“Every girl you’ve ever hooked up with has been some spastic bimbo, and you want to judge the one man in this bar who looks like he has any potential?”
“I’m trying to be a good wingman.”
“You’re trying to waste my time.”
“Fine,” Jackson said. He stood up from the stool and flashed that phony smile at me. “Watch and learn.”
Chapter 22
Jackson
For some reason that I couldn’t quite fathom, the guy was practically jumping out of his seat to hit on Grace, and I had this annoying lump in the bottom of my throat which grew by the second. It had been easy enough snagging him for her, especially after I told him that Grace was my ex-girlfriend and she had simply been too much in the sack for me to handle. Granted, that probably wasn’t the ideal way to land a decent guy for her, but that’s how she wanted it done ... so what else could a decent wingman do?
“She said you looked familiar, so I told her I’d ask for you,” I said. “She can be shy sometimes.”
The guy—Gary Something—was staring across the bar to where Grace was making conversation with Alex. Neither of them were looking at us, and I was impressed by the cool she kept. For the first time tonight, I noticed the outfit she was wearing; a pair of bellbottom jeans paired with a baby blue tank top, a denim jacket over her shoulders, and brown boots on her feet. She looked kind of cute, especially since her hair was down instead of up, cascading down her back and over her shoulders.
“I don’t think I’ve ever met her, but she’s cute,” Gary said, interrupting my silent observation. “I can handle that.”
“I’m sure you can,” I said, and forced a smile that felt phony even to me. Gary looked back over, brushing that preppy-boy blond hair out of one eye. Grace seemed to think that jocks like me were the jerks, but she didn’t know that it was the innocent-looking guys like Gary who were the real culprits.
“You two are ex’s?” he confirmed. “I find that a little bit weird.”
“No need. We’re just friends now, strictly platonic. It was never going to go anywhere; we both knew it.”
“Well then don’t mind me,” Gary said. He took a drink of his beer and winked at me like we’d been best bros forever. “Thanks, dude. I think I can show her a good time.”
Before I could react to that—either by laughing or punching him in the face, I wasn’t sure which—Gary stood up and made his way over to Grace. I watched her smile at him as he leaned up against the bar counter, flashing some stupid, phony smile at her. Part of me hoped she would see what an asshole Gary was and give him the same bitch slap down she always rejected me with, but there was no sign of that as she took the hand offered to her and gathered up her jacket. Gary put down some cash to cover his and her tab, then he snaked his arm around her shoulder, whispering something in her ear. She nodded at him, still smiling politely, and they headed towards the door.
Grace shot me a glance as they passed, but she didn’t say anything. I looked back at Alex, wondering if she would decide that this guy was too much of a tool to let him take Grace anywhere, but she didn’t make any move to stop them.
“Dude,” I said, getting up from the table. “I can’t believe you let her leave with that guy.”
“What are you talking about?” Alex asked. She was ringing up someone’s ticket, not bothering to look at me. “You’re the one who snagged him for her. Wingman style, remember?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t think she’d actually go with him,”
I said, and Alex finally looked up at me.
“Isn’t that the whole point?” she asked. “Besides, he seems fine. And he’s cute.”
“He seems like a grade-A jerk,” I corrected her. “And he’s not cute. He’s a male version of Paris Hilton.”
“Grace can hold her own, Jackson,” Alex said. She slammed the register shut and looked at me. “After all, she’s got plenty of experience at this point dealing with your shit, right?”
“Irrelevant,” I said. “I’m not trying to get into her pants.”
“So, let her be. She’s fine. Grace isn’t a whore, okay? She likes to get to know a guy first before she jumps into bed with him. Unlike someone we know.”
“It’s not Grace’s intentions I’m worried about,” I said. I didn’t like the way this was going. I didn’t like the thought of Grace out there with that guy . . . I didn’t know him, and she sure as hell didn’t know him, so it made me antsy to think of how all of this might end. I almost regretted hooking her up. If this jerk hurt her, it would be my fault, nobody else’s. Should I have refused to be her wingman?
“Chill out, Jackson,” Alex said. “You underestimate Grace. Leave it alone.”
Unfortunately for me, Alex made it clear that the conversation was over. Nothing more was said as I finished my beer, grabbed my coat, and headed home alone. On the walk back I texted Grace, wondering if she was still with the dude, or if she’d bailed early. Despite how much I tried to think of something other than Grace on her impulsive “date,” I couldn’t clear my mind of every evil intention this guy may have had.
Grace never answered my text, and I knew that because I found myself checking my phone every six and a half minutes to see if she’d replied yet. I was insanely tempted to call her and check in, but I also knew how ridiculous and needy that would be. Why did I care so much? Grace wasn’t my girlfriend. Hell, she was barely a friend, and it wasn’t my business to hear about her shitty date. For all I knew, she and that douche Gary were in the middle of boning under his sheets, and that was something I had no intention of listening to.
My apartment was quiet. No raging party was happening tonight. I laid alone in my bed, staring up at the shadows on the ceiling, willing myself to fall asleep so I wouldn’t miss class in the morning. I knew that Grace’s mom Sidney had left to fly back home earlier that day, and Grace probably wasn’t handling it well. Was I responsible if this guy truly was a jerk and took advantage of her at her most vulnerable? Alex didn’t seem to think so, but it was difficult not to wonder if I’d gotten her into a mess with this guy.
I rolled over in my bed, making a mental note to wash my sheets and pillow cases. So many women had been through my bedroom in the last few weeks that it didn’t even smell familiar anymore. As I allowed my thoughts to wander, something inside of me was thinking about Grace again, how she always smelled so peculiar, a spicy vanilla mix. As I thought about it, I fell asleep imagining her scent on my pillow.
Chapter 23
Grace
Amazing, isn’t it, how quickly a date can go to shit? I knew it from the moment Gary came over and introduced himself the night would be a disaster, but I went along with it anyway, mostly because I had no interest in showing Jackson what a loser I was when it came to dating. He was so good at flaunting his one-night-stands in my face, and everyone else’s face, that I had no problem putting on my best smile and walking out the door with this kid. Although I had no intention of taking my pants off for this guy, he for some reason had different plans.
“Your ex-boyfriend says you’re a wildcat in bed,” Gary said as we walked across the campus lawn. It was dark. The sky was lit only by the moon and streetlamps around us. He’d asked me to his place earlier, but I’d turned him down, making some excuse that I wanted to see the night sky. I knew his intentions, though, and I was counting down the moments until this stupid “date” was over.
“That’s wildly inappropriate,” I said, clearing my throat. Gary laughed, but I wasn’t trying to be funny.
“Well?” he asked. “Are you?”
“Am I what?”
“A wildcat in bed.”
“You may never know,” I said, and flashed my warmest smile at him. As if on cue, Gary’s arm dropped from around my shoulder. He tried to make it seem like he was checking his phone, but I knew he was completely turned off. It felt good this time because for once, turning a guy off had been my intention and not just a freak accident.
“Let me guess,” I said, as he slowed his gait drastically. “You have an emergency to get to, and we need to cut the night short.”
“Oh, I um . . .” Gary cleared his throat and pretended to look carefully at his phone. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “My mom needs me. I’ll call you, yeah?”
“Preferably not,” I said, but there was a good chance he didn’t hear me as he turned and hurried away, leaving me standing by myself in the middle of the barren football field. I stood there for a moment and watched him go, both relieved and a little bit angry that Jackson had been right about what a jerk Gary would turn out to be. A loser, as he had said. And of course, he’d proved me right. Not that he had to know that.
As I walked by myself back to the house to turn in for the night, I checked my phone and found a text from Jackson asking me how the date was. I was tempted to reply, then thought better of it and slipped my phone back into my pocket. Let him wonder, I thought. It wasn’t his business.
As much as I’d tried to convince myself I didn’t care one way or the other, I couldn’t stop thinking about what Shawn and Alex had said about mine and Jackson’s newfound friendship; if you could even call it that. It was bothering me because let’s face it: lots of things bothered me, and that’s why I was such a control-freak basket case. I kept on wondering why Jackson never invited me out with his friends. Granted, I’d been to his one party, but the moment his Tyler friend had come up to us, Jackson had seemed almost desperate to make sure I was well on my way to leaving. I didn’t understand it . . . or maybe I did understand it and simply didn’t want to face it. Although Jackson claimed he liked my company, he didn’t like it enough to be around me when his jock friends trailed him like a pack of wild dogs, and I wasn’t sure what to think about that. Honestly, I shouldn’t have been thinking about it at all. After all, who cared? Really? Apparently, I did.
During my break between classes, I found myself on the quad hovering over a textbook and going over my write-up of the football team’s final game. It was a warm day in Seattle, a rare event, and although I did adore the rain, the sunshine on my skin felt nice. While I made some edits on my rough draft game report, a group of students passed by the table. One of them spotted me and held out a sheet of pink paper.
“Movie on the Quad tonight,” she said, flashing me a smile. “Tell your friends. The weather is supposed to be great.”
“Thanks,” I said, scanning my eyes over the paper as the students continued on. I knew that even if Alex didn’t work tonight, a movie on the quad wouldn’t be her thing. Since I had already forced her to go to one of the football games with me, I had to give it some time before I made her do some other tacky, school spirit thing. I considered asking Shawn if he’d like to go, but then I remembered the last time we’d gone to a movie he’d yelled profanities at the screen the whole two hours. As appealing as that sounded, I couldn’t bring myself to endure that again. I crumpled the paper up into a ball and set it aside to throw it out later. It was all right; I had homework anyway.
“So she lives,” someone said behind me. Before I could react, Jackson plopped down on the bench across from me, flopping his bag down on the picnic table between us. “You never texted me back,” he said. He ran a hand through his light brown hair. It was growing a bit long for my taste, but before I could tease him about it, he kept on rambling.
“Did you guys screw?” he asked. I glowered at him, pushing his book bag out of my face.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but no, we didn’t screw.
” I looked away from him, wishing we had done it so I could gloat about something to Jackson. “But it was still nice. We had a nice, enlightening conversation.”
“That’s good,” Jackson said. He folded his arms over his chest and leaned back a bit. “I thought for sure I had him pinned as an asshole, and I had very real doubts about his ability to hold an intelligent conversation.” He was staring intently at me, just waiting for me to crack. I looked away from him, trying to avoid his gaze at all costs. A minute passed by, and when neither of us said anything, I knew I had to look at him again.
“He was a jerk,” I said finally. “He was arrogant and self-involved, and when he got the impression I didn’t want to have sex with him, he bailed.”
I expected Jackson to laugh, tease me, but he didn’t. Instead, he scoffed, looking anything but amused.
“Part of that could be my fault,” he said. “I told him you were too much for me in bed.”
“Yeah, he mentioned that. I’m so glad I have you as my wingman.”
“Hey, don’t blame me just because you’re attracted to nerdy guys who have never seen bare breasts before,” Jackson said. “You’re the one who wanted me to try, remember?”
“I remember,” I said with a sigh. “It’s fine, though. No skin off my back. Just another jerk to check off the list.”
“I have to go,” Jackson said, checking the time. “And no, it’s not because you won’t give it up to me. I have class.”
“See ya,” I said. As Jackson stood up to leave, my eyes caught sight of the crumpled-up piece of paper sitting next to my elbow. “Hey,” I called, stopping him in his tracks. “They’re playing a film on the quad tonight,” I said. “Some old movie. Wanna go?”
“You mean . . . as a date?” The doubt in Jackson’s voice was painfully obvious. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to compose myself.
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