— Wow. Didn’t even get me breakfast the morning after. What a let down. —
Lame. I deleted it.
— So… last night was fun. —
Ugh, too desperate. I shook my head, settling for one word.
— Hey. —
My throat tightened as I hit the send button, knowing I couldn’t take it back now. Part of me was convinced I was acting crazy and he’d text back in a matter of minutes, but the other, louder part of me said nothing is ever certain when it comes to Jamie Shaw.
I tucked my phone in my back pocket just as I rounded the breezeway that led to the coffee shop, desperate to get some caffeine in my system. But when I spotted Jamie walking out the door, I paused.
It wasn’t as cold at that time in the afternoon, and Jamie had already shrugged out of his jacket. It was draped lazily over one arm while his other arm rested easily around the shoulders of one of the girls he’d hooked up with earlier in the semester. I thought her name was Tina, but I couldn’t be sure. I didn’t care, honestly. All that mattered was that she was laughing, head tilted back as Jamie grinned down at her, his mouth too close to her neck.
I swallowed, trying to shake the icky feeling climbing from the tips of my cold fingers to the warmth of my neck. But when Tina placed her hand gently over Jamie’s chest, both of them still laughing, I lost any fight I had left to convince myself whatever I was seeing was innocent.
I was going to be sick.
Ducking inside the doors of the breezeway bookstore before he could see me, I sprinted to the first trashcan in sight and heaved, my stomach too empty already to cooperate. A few girls scurried away from me as one of the cashiers rushed over to see if I was okay, but I brushed him off, bracing both hands on the trashcan for a moment to steady myself before racing out the door again.
Each step vibrated from the sole of my foot up between my aching thighs, still sore from him, and I dug my thumbs into the loops of my backpack straps, pulling them tighter and tighter as I walked. I’d never experienced anxiety like that — the crippling kind, the kind that makes every rational thought literally impossible to grasp.
Jamie never did text me back, not in the time I walked back to the dorm or later that night when I stayed wrapped in my comforter, staring at the phone, hoping for something — anything — to prove my gut instinct wrong.
Reassurance never came, no one to break up the party dread, anxiety, and doubt were throwing in my stomach now. Guilt moved in next, and there was only room for one more. I curled in on myself, squeezing my eyes shut and rocking gently, holding out for hope. Finally, at just past midnight, I gave up on waiting. With a shaky sigh, regret slipped in, stealing the last spot.
I didn’t sleep that night.
I PEELED MYSELF OUT of bed early the next day, showering off the sand and smell of Jamie I’d let myself sleep in all night. The day before, I had practically been a spazz, but a new calmness had settled in, and my stomach had evened out. I was almost sluggish, my body reluctant to wake to the harsh reality of it all.
It was a mistake.
It was a stupid, heat-of-the-moment lack of judgment.
And that was fine.
It was clear Jamie wasn’t bothered by what had happened, so why should I be? Maybe I was young, naive, making it into a bigger deal than it needed to be. So what, we’d hooked up? It happened all the time.
I repeated those words, over and over, washing them into my skin as I scrubbed Jamie off. And as each layer of him swirled with the water into the drain at my feet, I discovered the other layers that rested beneath — the guilt, the shame, the fear, the hurt.
By the time I’d dressed and finished my hair, my biggest concern had drifted to Ethan. He’d asked me to come over to their place for some last minute campaign preparations before the fire pit party that night and I was terrified of seeing him. I’d been set on telling him the truth about Jamie and me, but that was when I thought there was a Jamie and me. Now that there wasn’t, that I realized the mistake I’d made, I felt sick at the thought of losing Ethan, too.
I knew it made me a shitty person, I knew he deserved the truth and I deserved whatever resulted from that, but it didn’t make me feel any better about the idea of it. Still, I had made enough mistakes in the last day and a half, and after a night of agonizing, restless “sleep”, all I wanted was to do something right.
I had to tell him, and I had to be okay with whatever happened after I did.
I picked up lunch from the favorite taco place on campus and made my way to Ethan’s, planting the seed and watering it with every step I took.
It was just a mistake. It’s fine. Shit happens. Don’t make a big deal out of it.
I wasn’t sure if I truly believed it or if I was just slowly putting up a wall, brick by brick, hoping it was strong enough to keep me from my true feelings. But I kept repeating those words, those sentiments, laying the bricks and topping it all off with barbed wire.
I was fine.
By the time I used my spare key and pushed through the door of their apartment, I almost believed that.
“I brought tacos!” I announced, kicking the door closed behind me and holding up the two bags. I felt him in the room as soon as I entered, but I didn’t dare chance a look in his direction. I found Ethan instead, and my heart warmed at the sight of his smile.
“You didn’t.”
I nodded, setting everything in my arms down on the counter and waving hello to Shayla who was sitting crosslegged on the floor next to a stack of posters. “I did.”
He was there, in the corner, right next to where Shayla was tapping on her laptop as she sorted through materials, but I still didn’t look at him.
Ethan picked himself up from the floor and rushed over, wrapping me in his arms and greeting me with a long, slow, heated kiss. “Marry me,” he murmured against my lips and I giggled, guilt surging as he kissed lips that were still swollen from Whiskey. I pushed him back playfully before digging through the bags.
“I’ll get this all set up. Whatcha working on?”
“Just going through inventory, figuring out next week’s plan so we can have some fun and not think about this election tonight at the party.”
“Amen!” Shayla yelled and I chuckled.
I smiled, but it was weak, my stomach like a hive of bees as I stepped in closer to Ethan. “Do you have a second to talk? I… I need to tell you something.”
His brows turned in, hands finding my arms in a comforting embrace. “Is everything okay, babe?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said with a swallow. “I just, there’s just something we need to talk about.”
“Okay,” he said, eyes flickering between mine before he turned to glance over his shoulder at Shayla. “Would it be okay if we talked later tonight? We’re really trying to get all this done before the party. I mean, that is if you’re sure you’re okay and it can wait?”
He was still staring at me from the corner of the room. I felt his eyes burning craters into my skin as Ethan waited for my response.
“Yeah, sure. Yeah it can wait.” I forced another smile. “Go get back to it. I’ll make everyone a plate and then come help.”
“Thank you,” he whispered, kissing my cheek once more before jogging back over to take a seat on the floor next to Shayla. They bent their heads together, pointing at something on her screen and talking numbers. It was then that I finally let my eyes drift to Jamie.
His face was stone, eyes intense as they bored into me from beneath his furrowed brows. I let my eyes fall to his mouth, lips set in a firm line, and then I swallowed and turned, reaching into the cabinet for plates.
What, he thought I was going to walk in here devastated? Crying and begging him to tell me why he never texted? Why he never called? He thought he had the upper hand, and maybe he did, but I was determined not to let that show.
It was just a mistake. It’s fine. Shit happens. Don’t make a big deal out of it.
I repeated the same thought
s, again and again, willing them to be true.
“What are you doing?”
I jumped a little at the boom of his voice, the plates rattling in my hands as I pulled them from the shelf.
“Making tacos. Want some?” I avoided his eyes, setting the plates on the counter before opening each styrofoam takeout box with the ingredients.
“Don’t play dumb, you’ve never been good at it.”
“Because you know me so well.”
“I do,” he said loudly, grabbing my wrist that had just been reaching for the taco shells. We both glanced up at Ethan and Shayla, but it was like we weren’t there at all. “I do fucking know you,” he said again, his voice lower. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“B,” he warned, and I tugged my wrist from his grip.
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
“You’re fine,” he deadpanned.
I sighed, piling the first shell with grilled chicken before dropping it to a plate and facing Jamie. I set my face first, hoping like hell he wouldn’t see the way he’d hurt me. “Yep. Are you going to help me with these or not? Because otherwise you’re kind of in the way right now.”
Jamie let out a sharp laugh. “That’s fine, I don’t mind being in the way. Seems to be my favorite place to be actually.”
I narrowed my eyes at his insinuation.
“What’s gotten into you? Did I do something?”
“Why would you think that?” I brushed it off, still aiming for calm, unaffected.
He scoffed, crossing his arms before stepping closer. “Oh, I don’t know, less than thirty hours ago you were forcing my hand between your thighs and now you won’t even look at me? Yeah, maybe that.”
“Shhh!” I scolded, my eyes flicking to Ethan, who was oblivious, before snapping back to Jamie. He was standing so close, his words like flames that licked at my stomach. “Stop. It was a mistake.”
His head snapped back like my words had struck him. “A mistake.”
“We were both vulnerable, it was a heavy moment. Shit happens.”
“Shit hap—” he didn’t even finish the sentence, just threw his hands up, raking them through his light brown strands before clasping them to rest on his head. He let them fall again, hands hitting his thighs. “What are you even saying right now? Do you hear yourself? Do you see yourself? You’re shaking, B.”
He went to reach for me and I backed away, my lower back hitting the counter. “I see just fine, thank you. Well enough to see that whatever happened the other night clearly didn’t stop you from shacking up with Tina yesterday.” I met his eyes then and watched the argument drain from them.
“What? Tina?”
“It’s fine, Jamie. I saw you two together, but it’s okay. What happened with us… it didn’t mean anything to me either,” I lied. “So we’re cool. Like I said, shit happens.” I kept plating the tacos, done with the conversation, done with him.
“Wow.” Jamie shook his head before sliding closer, invading my space. “I don’t know what you think you saw, but if this is really how you feel, I’m glad your twisted little mind made this shit up to make you feel better about it.”
With that, he pushed off the counter and walked away. I watched every move, every flex of every muscle in his back until he disappeared inside his room, slamming the door behind him.
“Jesus, what’s wrong with him?” Shayla asked.
Ethan looked at me, brows bent, asking me the same question. I just shrugged.
“Guess he doesn’t like tacos.”
Shayla laughed and Ethan offered her a forced smile, but his eyes found mine again and I felt the accusation in that gaze. I ignored it, finishing their tacos and hand delivering them along with two bottles of water. Then, I made my own plate, sat down next to them, and talked campaign plans.
It was almost five when I made my way back to my own dorm, mind heavy with Jamie’s words as I walked. I’d been so set on seeming indifferent to what had happened between us, but now I wasn’t sure that what I’d seen had really been what I thought. But if it wasn’t, then why didn’t he ever text me back? Why didn’t he call? Why didn’t he do something, anything to reassure me that what happened between us had been real?
I’d never been so fucked up mentally in my life. Nothing made sense, and for reasons I couldn’t explain, the first person I wanted to talk to about it was my dad. I wanted a man’s opinion. But as I pulled out my phone and brought up his contact, I paused, heart breaking as I realized he wasn’t a man — not a real one. A real man wouldn’t do what he’d done to my mother. A real man would have owned up to his mistakes, would have asked for forgiveness, would have given the explanation he owed to his daughter.
I felt sick again as I tapped out of my dad’s contact, pulling up Ethan’s, instead. My fingers were typing out the text message excuse about how I didn’t feel well enough to go to the fire pit party when a familiar voice squealed my name. I glanced up, and then I almost dropped my phone. There were two large suitcases propped up next to my dorm room door and a long pair of tan legs I’d know anywhere stood right beside them.
“Surprise, bitch!”
Jenna.
I’D NEVER SIPPED whiskey from a flask so angrily.
Jenna was filling up her cup from the keg, going on about one of her professors whom she swore was hell bent on failing her, and I was trying to get my shit together. My best friend had flown across the country to surprise me and my brain decided to fill itself with Jamie, instead. It was annoying. I didn’t want to think about him, and every time I tried not to, it became more and more impossible to accomplish.
He’d yet to show to the party, and I had a feeling it was because he knew I was here. I’d had no choice but to come, especially after Jenna showed up, but I was still uneasy from what had happened earlier.
I didn’t know what possibility bothered me more — that he would go out somewhere else tonight or stay inside because of me, or that he would show up and I’d have to be around him and Jenna and Ethan all at once.
I took another shot.
“So yeah, I’m pretty sure he wants to bang, but he’s pissed that he wants to bang me so he’s making my life a living hell,” she finished, sucking the froth from her new beer.
“So basically you’re going to have sex with your teacher.”
She shrugged, steering us toward one of the fire pits. “Probably.”
We both laughed, and I tried for the fiftieth time to relax and have fun. Jenna was blown away by the fact that Alder was a wet campus and we could just have a kegger out by the fire pits on the edge of campus. We still had to register it as an event, and there were limitations, but it was pretty awesome. Still, I wasn’t in the mood for beer that night. I needed something stronger.
Hence, the flask.
I tipped it to my lips once more and sucked a breath through my teeth as the whiskey burned its way down. I hadn’t even sprung for a nice bottle, just opted for good ol’ Jack Daniels. One day I swore I’d have an entire cabinet dedicated to high-end whiskey, just so I’d always have some ready for an occasion such as this.
“You’ve been quiet,” Jenna observed. “Everything okay?”
I forced a smile. “Of course. My best friend is here!”
“But?”
Dropping the act, I dropped onto one of the benches by the far fire pit and Jenna took the seat next to me. It was one of the last chilly nights we’d have in San Diego and the fire was a welcome warmth. “I’m so sorry, Jenna. I really am excited you’re here. I’m just…” I debated telling her, spilling everything right then and there. The truth is I wanted to tell someone, but it wasn’t the right time. “Tired. I’ve been helping Ethan with all this campaign stuff and it’s just kind of exhausting.”
“Ah,” Jenna mused, her eyes scanning the gathering crowd until she spotted Ethan. He and Shayla were now camped out at the keg we’d just been at, filling cups and handing them out, clearly not taking the night off like they’d said th
ey would. “Pretty impressive that he’s running for Vice President. He seems like a good guy.”
“He is,” I agreed, my voice like sandpaper rubbing together. Ethan was an incredible guy, and when he found out what I’d done, I’d lose him. My stomach rolled, and I clutched the flask tighter.
“Are you happy?” Jenna asked casually, tossing her long blonde hair over her shoulder as she sipped from her beer. The sun was just setting, the sky fading into a deep navy blue behind the fire. Her question should have been easy to answer, but I made a strange noise before smiling and shrugging. She cocked a brow. “What the hell does that mean?”
“I’m happy,” I said quickly. “I am. Like I said, he’s amazing.”
“You are the worst liar.”
I laughed. “I think it’s just the campaign stuff. I’ll be happy when it’s over.”
Jenna narrowed her eyes, but let me drop it. “Okay, fair enough. So,” she said with a pop, sitting up straighter. “I’m here for a week. What are we doing first?”
I perked up at that, excited for a week with her and plenty of distractions. “Well, we obviously have to hit the beach so you can see what the west coast has to offer. There are a few fun clubs downtown we can get into, and I have at least four places you have to eat at before you can leave the city — starting with The Taco Stand in La Jolla.”
Jenna squealed excitedly. “Can we go dancing somewhere?!”
“Duh!”
We laughed, and as the noise faded, I took in the moment to truly appreciate the fact that she was there. “I’m so glad you came, Jenna. Your timing actually couldn’t have been better.”
She nudged me. “Must be that best friend ESP stuff hard at work.”
“Must be.” I unscrewed the metal cap off my flask and tapped her red plastic cup with it. “Cheers, bitch.”
“Cheers.”
We tilted our drinks back, and Jenna opened her mouth to say something but was cut off.
“Well I’ll be damned.”
Jenna turned and I closed my eyes, pushing an exhale out through my nose as my stomach somersaulted.
A Love Letter to Whiskey Page 12