by Amy Sparling
Amy Sparling
Copyright © 2016 Amy Sparling
All rights reserved.
First Edition April 2016
Cover image from BigStockPhoto.com
Typography from FontSquirrel.com
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems -except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews-without permission in writing from the author at [email protected].
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, events, and places portrayed in this book are products of the author’s imagination and are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 1
Shopping on a weekday is the greatest thing ever. Especially at one in the afternoon when most people are at work. The lines are short and the stores have great sales. It’s Tuesday and the mall is nearly empty so Jett and I have circled around it twice already. Each time I find something new to try on, play with, or buy.
I glance over at my boyfriend as we walk toward The Gap.
Okay, I might be going a little overboard. The poor guy is holding six shopping bags in one hand and a big yellow pillow with an emoji face on it in the other hand. Jett wanted to get the poop emoji pillow. I mean, really? I shot down that idea and bought the obvious choice: the two hearts for eyes emoji pillow. It’s adorable and snuggly and it was on sale for five bucks so I had to have it.
Of course, Jett whined about the poop emoji so much that I kind of want to sneak back up here and buy it for him one day. I don’t exactly have a car though, so I can only go places with Jett or Becca. It’s too bad his birthday isn’t until December because I’ll probably forget about the stupid pillow by then.
“I’m hungry,” Jett says, bumping into me with his shoulder. “Does the crazy shop-a-holic want to take a break and get some cheese fries?”
I roll my eyes. “I am so not a shop-a-holic. This is well deserved! Your mom even said so.”
Hell, she’d given me fifty bucks this morning when I told her we were going shopping for clothes. I believe her exact words were, “Honey, you need some clothes. I love you and all, but yeah.”
I’ve been officially living in Lawson for two? Months now and most of those months involved me living out of a suitcase, getting by with hand-me-downs from Becca and stolen shirts from Jett.
Of course, Jett’s shirts are my favorite. But I still need my own stuff. Hence, the epic shopping trip. I’ve got two months of pay from working at The Track saved up and I’m blowing at least half of it today. Who cares about frivolity? It’s fun!
A sparkly tank top catches my attention from the mannequin in front of Forever 21. “Ooh!” I say, wandering over to it.
Jett leans over and whispers into my ear. “Cheese fries.” He draws out the words so he sounds like some kind of cheese fry-addicted ghost.
I laugh. “Okay, okay, fatty. Let’s go get you fed.”
“Mmmmm, food.” Jett pats his stomach as if it’s a hell of a lot fatter than it really is. In reality he’s got a sexy six-pack that he works every single day to maintain. (Sometimes it’s annoying how much time he spends in the gym, but I don’t tell him that.) We order two large trays of the best thing in the food court: Extreme Fries. They’re curly fries covered in melted cheese, ranch dressing, bacon bits and jalapenos. I let Jett eat all of the jalapenos because I’m not a fan of spicy things.
“I’m not sure this counts as a real meal,” I say, stabbing into a cheesy fry with a plastic fork. “I can totally hear your dad now, talking about how you need to eat balanced meals to become a pro racer.”
Jett licks cheese off his fingers and leans in, giving me a quick kiss. He gestures toward the trays of fries. “This is totally a complete meal. We have potatoes, which are a vegetable. Bacon bits, that’s totally protein, and it’s a really good protein because of healthy fats . . .” He gives me a wink and continues, “And cheese. That’s dairy. Dairy is good for you. Strong bones and all of that.”
I laugh and stab into another fry. Unlike Jett’s grab-it-with-your-fingers approach, I like to keep a little dignity while eating in public. “I should probably stop eating so much junk with you. I’ll get fat. I can’t believe I had to buy a bigger size pair of jeans today.”
I crinkle my nose. Jett pokes me in the arm with a fry, that luckily doesn’t have cheese on the end of it. “Babe you’re totally hot. You’re even hotter now.” He takes a bite of the fry and his eyes travel down my body. “You were a little too thin when I first met you. So whatever you’re doing is working.”
I snort as an uneasy feeling settles over me. “You mean eating normal food? That’s what I’m doing now.”
Now that Jett and I are closer, I don’t mind sharing certain parts of my life with him. It had taken a while for me to open up, especially about my shady past with Dawn, but now that I have, it’s like I can’t ever go back. I reach for another fry and feel Jett’s eyes on me. “I hardly ever ate when I was with Dawn.” I punch him in the arm. “But you can’t point out that I’m fat now, Jett! I’m a girl, you can’t do that!”
“I never said you were fat, you dork. You’re hot. You were hot when I met you and you’re hot now. You’re hotter now, because I think you look better with some meat on your bones.”
I let out a long groan. “Babe! You can’t say that!”
He laughs. “Yeah, I realized as soon as I said the word meat that I probably shouldn’t say that to a girl.” He holds up his hands as if in surrender. “Okay, how is this?” He looks me in the eyes with his dark blues and it sends a shiver down my spine. “Keanna, you are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”
I swallow. Whoa.
“Um, thanks,” I mumble, turning my attention back to the food. “Seriously though, I need to stop eating the same crap you do. I do not want to buy another bigger pair of jeans in a month.”
Jett takes a sip of the large soda we’re sharing. “My mom told me something once. We were talking about girlfriends and stuff and she told me about the time she knew that my dad was her soul mate and that she wanted to be with him forever.”
My eyes widen. “Oh yeah? Do tell.” Jett’s parents are the picture perfect example of a flawless marriage. I confidently believe that if every couple on earth loved each other as much as they do, then there would be no war, no divorce or custody battles. There’d be no problems at all.
Jett takes another sip of our drink. “Apparently my mom got fat when she was pregnant with me and she was like freaking out about it.” He points a fry at me. “Much like you’re freaking out now.”
I roll my eyes and he continues. “And I guess my dad had taken her to California to meet my grandparents or something, and she said that at
one point he told her he’d love her no matter what, even if she stayed fat or got fatter.” He shrugs and eats another fry. “Which is kind of silly because you women are all obsessed with what you look like, but whatever. My mom said that and she knew right then that he was her soul mate and that she could be happy with him forever. When she told me that story, I thought it was—well, you know—dumb, but I guess it makes sense.”
“Of course it makes sense,” I say, gazing out at the crowd of mall shoppers.
Jett shakes his head. “What I’m saying here is that I understand what my dad meant now. Nothing you can do, short of cheating on me, or like, becoming a serial killer or something, would make me lo—care about you any less.”
My heart catches in my throat. Was he about to say love? I choke out my reply. “Um, thanks. Same here . . . don’t become a serial killer.”
He grins and nods toward the half-eaten fries. “Be who you are and don’t worry about gaining a few pounds. I mean, who cares? I don’t.”
“Let’s change the subject to something that doesn’t make me feel so self-conscious, okay?”
“You’re so cute,” Jett says with a mouthful of food. “I love everything about you. Even how you think that having serious conversations aren’t fun.”
“Good, because you’re stuck with me,” I say, trying to be all light hearted. In reality, joking around like this terrifies me because I never know if Jett and I will actually be together forever. I just really, really hope we are, but hopes and dreams don’t mean anything in reality.
“No, you’re stuck with me,” Jett says. He leans over and kisses the top of my head and a cloud of his cologne fills my lungs. Even though I spray it on the shirts I steal from his closet to wear to sleep, I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of the intoxicating scent of him.
“So what else should we talk about?” Jett asks, straightening back up in his chair. The cologne smell goes away and I instantly miss it, but I’m not going to crawl into his lap in the middle of the food court. “School is starting in a few weeks.”
I make a gagging sound. “Ugh, no. I don’t want to talk about that.”
He laughs. “Have you registered yet?”
Since I’m pretty much stuck here for the foreseeable future because my mom has moved to a different country and completely abandoned me, the only logical next step is that I finish out my senior year of high school here in Lawson. Becca has been talking about it lately but I’ve been trying to avoid the conversation at all costs.
“The other day, Becca said I could look into homeschooling if I wanted,” I say, recalling our talk at work last week. “Apparently there’s internet programs where you can kind of teach yourself everything.”
Jett’s brows draw together and his lip curls up. “Ew, no. Don’t do that.”
I give him a sideways glance. “Why not?”
“Because then you’ll be home all day instead of at school with me,” he says as if it were obvious.
“You’ll be a junior and I’ll be a senior so we probably won’t see each other.”
He shakes his head. “Not true. Have you seen Lawson High School? There’s like ten people there. We’ll have the same lunch and we can get the same electives and you can ride with me to school, too. It’ll be awesome.”
“It’ll be school,” I say, pronouncing the last word as if it were a curse. “I’ve been to dozens of schools in my life and they’ve all sucked. I get made fun of for not knowing anyone or not knowing how to do anything in the stupid school. My clothes get ragged on for being old and worn out, I—”
Jett stops me with a sharp look. “Babe, that was all in the past. You know people now. You know me, and Jacey will totally be your friend, too. Most of the guys at the track aren’t in this school district but a few of them are.” He points to the heap of shopping bags on the other side of our table. “And no one can make fun of your clothes anymore.”
“Okay, you’re right about the clothes,” I say.
“And Jacey,” he says. I nod reluctantly. It’s a little weird that a girl my boyfriend used to make out with for fun is now kind of my friend. She is really nice though, and now she has her own boyfriend that she’s head over heels for so it all kind of works out. I’m still not about to call her my bestie or anything.
I sink my chin in my hand. “I don’t know. It’s still scary. You’ve been at the same school your whole life, right?”
“Yeah,” he says with a little nod. “It is easier going back since I know literally everyone. Plus, some of the teachers used to teach my mom and Becca. They don’t ever let me forget that, either.”
“I know you and maybe a few more people.” I give a little exaggerated shudder. “School is not fun for me. It’s always scary as hell.”
He wraps an arm around my shoulders and gives me a squeeze. “It’ll be okay. I’ll make sure you have an awesome time. And if anyone tries to be the least bit rude to you, I’ll kick their ass.”
I smile and reach for another fry. “I don’t need a knight in shining armor, Jett.”
“Then what do you need?” he asks. There’s genuine concern behind his eyes.
I consider it for a moment. “I can take care of myself. But I’d like it if you have my back.”
Jett peers at me, a sense of pride in his features. His arm is still around me and he squeezes my shoulders. “Always.”
Chapter 2
My stomach growls. I haven’t eaten in over three hours and my body is now waging a war against me in the form of rumbling angry growls until I give it some food. Luckily, my parents and Park and Becca (my other parents) are grilling burgers tonight. It’s kind of an unofficial Sunday night tradition that usually takes place at my house.
I throw on some shorts and a blue T-shirt and grab the pair of flip-flops by my door. Not only am I starving, I’m anxious to see Keanna wearing one of the new outfits she bought today. She’s been making this slow transition ever since the day I met her. She used to be shy and reserved and a little bit mean. She’s had a hard life and I never really know exactly how hard it was until her own mother made me tell her she wasn’t coming back home. That was a rough night.
And it’s been nearly two months since then and we still haven’t brought it back up. Mom says it’s for the best that we let Keanna work out her issues on her own time and that we should just be there to support her. Dad has similar advice for me. He’s drilled it into my head that whenever she talks, I should just listen. I shouldn’t try to fix everything for her, no matter how badly I want to.
Every day it’s like she becomes more and more of the person she’s supposed to be. She’s no longer angry at the world, and she doesn’t seem to keep so much from me anymore. Her new clothes mean a lot, I know. The way her eyes lit up when she tried on an outfit at the mall—it’s like she’s trying on a new self. And I love the way she smiles now—like she has something worth smiling for.
Everything she picked out made her look beautiful and I’m excited to see what she’ll wear tonight. I’m not exactly a guy who cares what a girl wears, but when it makes her eyes light up and her smile a little bigger, then I’m all for it.
I take the back stairs that lead into the kitchen instead of the front grand staircase. I’m also texting Keanna to let her know I’m out of the shower, so my footsteps are slow to avoid falling down the stairs. Mom and Dad are talking in the kitchen and something Mom says makes me stop in my tracks.
“ . . . drunk as hell tonight,” she says, giggling. I lift an eyebrow. My parents don’t exactly get drunk as hell, like ever. Dad chuckles and Mom says, “If I can’t drink for the next nine months, I should fit it all in tonight.”
My blood runs cold. Nine months? That could only mean . . . I take a step back up the stairs, making sure I’m out of their sight. I probably shouldn’t be eavesdropping but this is just too good to walk away.
“It’s actually ten months when you think about it,” Dad says. “It’s forty weeks and all that, which is ten month
s. Why do they always say nine?”
“Hell if I know,” Mom says. “Can you hand me the margarita mix, babe?”
“Don’t get too crazy on the drinks,” Dad says. There’s some shuffling sounds while he digs through the pantry. “Once you get a couple of drinks in you, you tend to pass out.”
“Ugh, true,” Mom says. Then she yells, “Jett! Keanna is here!”
The back door opens and my parents tell her hello and I quietly walk back up the stairs and then come jogging down them as if I’d only just left my bedroom. If anyone notices that I’m freaked out of my mind, they don’t say anything.
“Hey,” I say, hugging Keanna. She’s wearing a pair of jean shorts, silver sparkly sandals, and a flowy tank top with the words “Follow your Bliss” printed across the front in cursive letters. We’d picked out the outfit today and she looks even cuter than she did in the fitting room.
“Do you need any help in here?” Keanna asks my mom.
Mom waves her hand and pours herself a margarita from the large pitcher on the counter. “No, hun, we’re all good here. You brought an appetite, right?”
Keanna nods and reaches for a handful of chips from the bowl on the counter. “You know I did.”
“Me too,” I say, grabbing some chips. It’s funny how hearing your mom talk about having a baby takes the hunger right out of you. I eat anyway, hoping it makes the nerves in my stomach calm back down.
Does this mean Mom is already pregnant? Or that she’s trying to get pregnant? It must be the second one because she wouldn’t be drinking so much if she were already pregnant. I didn’t even know she wanted another kid; she’s never exactly talked about it.
Keanna and I take the appetizers and some chips out to the patio table on the deck. I pour us a Coke and take a seat next to her on one of our fluffy patio chairs. My hands shake the whole time.
“You okay?” Keanna asks. She leans back in her chair and a soft breeze blows her hair back. I know it sounds cliché, but I swear it makes her look like an angel. I don’t even know how I survived before I knew this girl. Maybe that’s why I wasted so much time with other girls. I was always trying to find the perfect girl, but I was looking in the wrong places.