But I want to know the rest of the story. I want to know what happened because already I can tell that this story doesn't end well and even though I totally dislike any guy who ever held a little piece of Jordan's heart- I hate this douche even more for being dumb enough to hurt her. Am I seriously the only one who can see just how freaking awesome she is?
"I'd never really been with anyone else before him." Her eyes slide slowly back to mine. "And he knew that. I think that was part of the draw. Even though she smiles, it's brittle and hard around the edges. "Fresh meat."
My stomach clenches because unfortunately, I know exactly what she's saying. Now have I ever been guilty of the same thing? No. I like my girls experienced. Virgins tend to be too clingy when it’s all said and done.
"Anyway, the whole time he was telling me how much he liked me, he was messing around with two other girls on the side. And then one night at a party, I accidently walked in on him with one of them. He just laughed and told me that I was a frigid bitch. He told me that he was tired of waiting."
I cringe at her words because they pretty much echo what Hartley just accused her of being. Yeah, I should have pummeled that asswipe until there was nothing left of him.
"I'm really sorry, Jordan." I kiss her forehead lightly after murmuring the words. "Listen, I'm glad you told me but I'm not in any kind of rush to move things along." Yeah, those aren't exactly words I thought would ever tumble out of my mouth, but they're true. With her, they're absolutely true.
Now it's her brows that are drawing together in confusion. "Wait just a second, are you saying that you, Parker Montgomery, don't care about getting laid?"
Whoa, such language... and yeah, it's kind of a turn on. What am I saying? It's a major turn on. If I could roll my R's all the while making a purring sound from deep in my throat, I would.
I grin because I'm really not lying... I don't care. Okay, I care... Come on, of course I care. I want this girl in the worst kind of way... but after tonight that’s not going to happen. We’re going to slow this train down. I don't ever want to come across like Hartley. Then I wipe the smile from my face before saying, "Yep, that's right. I'm totally uninterested in having a sexual relationship with you." I tap the side of my head. "It's more of a mind connection I'm after."
"Uninterested, huh?" Then she says with a fair amount of disbelief, "Mind connection? Have you been miraculously reformed?"
I think about Natalie and Marissa and all the countless others. I think about how I can't get Jordan out of my head and haven't been able to since I met her. How I can't even work up the smallest amount of enthusiasm for another girl. "Yep, totally reformed," I confirm. And you know what? I think it might actually be true. I'm not just blowing smoke up her ass.
"That's good to know."
Then she rests her head against my chest as I hold her to me. No, I don't ever want to let her go. Not even to say good bye at the end of the night.
"I think I'm falling for you, Parker Montgomery," she whispers quietly.
I stare out the windshield of the truck into the swirling darkness, "That's good because I've already fallen for you."
Just as those words leave my mouth, my cell rings again. This time I don't even bother glancing at the screen, I just answer it.
"Hey- what's up?" My brows slide together as my mom shrilly unloads on me. "Alright, just calm down. I'll be right there." And then I click the phone off. Jordan pulls away until she's able to meet my eyes.
"What's wrong?" I hear the concern, the fear, lacing her voice.
"That was my mom." I'm still reeling from everything she just said. "The police are at my house. They want to talk to me about assaulting Chris Hartley."
Chapter Seventeen
"Dude, I was seriously this close," Max holds his thumb and pointer finger about a millimeter apart, "to getting a cavity search."
Slamming my locker door shut, I turn towards him. "And that's-" I pause, not quite sure what the appropriate response would be in this particular situation, "a good thing?" But since I've known this guy practically forever, I have a pretty good hunch what the answer is going to be.
And I'm not disappointed.
He gives me a knowing smirk. "You should have seen her... totally hot. And the way she filled out that uniform..." He rubs his beefy hands together with relish. "I could have really gone for a little hot cop, hook-up action." He elbows me in the ribs. "You know what I'm saying?"
Umm...
"So, you were actually hoping for a strip search?" Yeah, I'll take a pass on that one. Hot female cop or not...
Because latex gloves plus Vaseline does not equate to an enjoyable sexual experience. For me anyway. But to each their own... or something like that.
"Hell, yeah!" Then he rolls his eyes as if I'm the clueless one. Which is rich because we all know who the clueless one is in this friendship. His name starts with an- M and ends with an- ax. I'm sure you can figure out the rest. "But I'm pretty sure my parents would have put the kibosh on that. You know, with my dad being a lawyer and all."
All I can do is shake my head.
Yep, that's Max alright. He's the only one who could take a totally crap situation and find the silver lining in it. If you can call being forced to submit to a cavity search a silver lining... because I just can't. In fact, even the thought of it gives me the willies. But Max's dad, being a lawyer and all, is what saved my apparently stupid ass (my dad's words verbatim) from any serious legal repercussions. And don't think I didn't hear about that all Sunday long. Because I did.
All. Day. Long.
I had to listen to several different renditions regarding how I almost jeopardized my future (blah, blah, blah). And how I need to start taking life more seriously (blah, blah, blah). And no parental berating would be complete without a- you need to pull your damn head out of your ass, Parker Joseph Montgomery lecture. In other words- more blah, blah, blah. Yeah, good times at the old Montgomery house. Who would've thought that I'd actually be glad to take off for school Monday morning?
That is until I actually got to school and realized what a freaking circus it was going to be.
Case in point-
We're just about to head to lunch when an auburn haired tornado of energy bounds her way up to us. And trust me, that girl certainly bounces in all the right places but it just isn't doing a damn thing for me anymore.
And you know what?
I'm totally cool with that. Don't tell anyone, but I actually think I'm liking this whole one girl thing.
Yep, I'm a one man girl. Er... one girl man.
Aw hell, you know what I'm trying to say. Jordan is the only girl for me and if bouncing-in-all-the-right-places-Marissa Sandberg (especially when she doesn't ruin it by opening that big trap of hers) can't stir the one eyed snake in my jeans, then I'm happy to report that I'm officially off the market.
I'm thinking that the school should probably retire my jersey. After all, I was a pretty legendary player in my day. Underclassmen will regale one another with inspirational, not to mention motivating, stories regarding all my chick related exploits as they aspire to be just like me. Ah the good old glory days...
But I digress.
Like I said before, this whole one girl thing is feeling pretty damn good right about now. I think I'm going to roll with it.
"Parker, the halls are literally flying with rumors!"
Remember what I said about her opening her mouth? Yeah...
Slowly I flex my neck muscles trying to ease the tension she's suddenly put there with her high pitched words because of course I'm aware of the gossip situation surrounding what happened this weekend. I've been dodging questions fast and furious all morning long. I'm seriously tired of talking about the whole damn thing. Not to mention listening to people chatter incessantly about it. It's like I'm a freaking celebrity being hounded by the paparazzi. Even some of my teachers have sidled up to me wanting the inside scoop.
Marissa (AKA- the loudmouth from the south) has appa
rently decided that it's her responsibility to fill me in on all the wild stories that are currently being circulated because that girl always knows what's going on. Sometimes before it even happens. And I can tell that she's absolutely dying to fact check all the info she's gathered over the previous thirty-six hours. My eyes narrow as I watch her because she's practically salivating over the juiciness of it all.
Damn but I never realized what a major turn off this side to her personality is.
Oh, who am I kidding? Like I even knew she had a personality...
Yeah, I probably should have been a tad more discriminating with my hook ups...
That thought is actually slammed home when she opens her trap again.
"OMG, I can't believe you're actually at school today- I heard that the cops took you to juvie Saturday night after they surrounded your house and arrested you for almost killing Chris Hartley-"
Am I seriously expected to respond to such an absurd statement? Because clearly I am here at school today. And I did not almost kill that prick. I just bruised and battered his face a little bit. Not that I wouldn't have liked to kill him... but I exercised a little something called restraint. Well, Max actually did the majority of restraining. But, I let him.
That has to count for something, right?
"-And an ambulance had to take Chris to the hospital where they did emergency reconstructive surgery on his face-"
What?
Oh come on!
The kid is in school for God's sake! I saw him myself. And yeah, I gave him some serious glare action since I was told to stay far away from him by the police. And Max's dad. Does she even know how freaking crazy train she sounds right now?
By the fevered light in her eyes, I'm guessing not.
"-And he's going to prison for raping Jordan like seven different times!"
I can't help but flinch at how easily the word rape rolls off her tongue. The fact that most of the kids at this school think they know something so personal about Jordan seriously pisses me off. And it's not even close to the truth! This whole situation is hard enough to deal with without a bunch of damned gossips spreading ridiculous lies about what they think happened to Jordan on Saturday night.
To make matters worse, I haven't even seen Jordan since the police took her back to her house. We texted a few times Sunday morning but that's about it. Which admittedly has me kind of worried because I'm thinking she probably didn't feel up to coming to school today. At this point, I'm pretty much wishing I'd ditched as well. I'm just about to blast Marissa with an earful when she opens that yammering yap of hers again.
I think what pisses me off the most is that all I can see in my head is the look of absolute terror on Jordan's pale face when I found her being held down by Hartley. And here's Marissa, giddily spreading it all around. You know, her behavior never really bothered me before, because I guess I never paid too much attention to it, but now... now I just want her to shut her damn face.
She needs to get a life and stop spreading around rumors about mine.
I'm seriously starting to wonder what I ever saw in her in the first place.
Alright, we all know what I saw in her. And yeah, it wasn't exactly her scintillating conversational skills. In fact, what I've found is that the less Marissa talks, the better.
"And Jordan's parents are now selling their house and taking her back to Boston ASAP." Her eyes shift to Max before she jerks her head in his direction. "And this guy recorded the whole thing and is selling it on eBay to the highest bidder. Which is now up to about a thousand dollars."
Is this chick seriously bat shit crazy?
Why am I even asking this?
Of course she is.
She has to be.
It's the only logical explanation.
All I really want is to shut down this BS. Unfortunately, I know that Marissa lives for this shit and whatever I tell her will be broadcasted to the school at large, probably to the whole damn town for all I know. So I need to be careful about what I say.
I guess it's time to turn on the old Parker Montgomery charm. Even though I would really love to strangle the stupid cow instead.
Yep, there's that word restraint again. See? I have plenty of it. Because get this- one of those cops actually had the nerve to tell me that I had some anger management issues. Ha! If I didn't know how to cage the rage, I would seriously be throttling this chick right now. And trust me, it's highly doubtful that Max would bother to stop me this time.
"Marissa, babe, come on." I force my lips to bow upwards into a tight smile. "None of that's true. Look, I'm not going to juvie. Max's dad," I clap Max on the shoulder as I say his name, "has gotten me off the hook." I owe that dude my life. Because apparently, plowing my fist into Hartley's face over and over again until it was nothing more than ground hamburger meat was the wrong thing to do. This is where the anger management issues reared their ugly head. But since Hartley's parents were blissfully unaware of him trying to sexually assault Jordan, yeah, they were pretty much willing to quietly drop the charges against me after the cops filled them in.
As was the DA.
"And Hartley isn't going to prison." From what I understand, he'll have to do some community service, work with a counselor, and check in with a social worker for the rest of senior year. Sucks to be him alright. The dude needs to learn that no actually means no. "And Max did not video what has now been dubbed 'The Hartley Beatdown'." Which, yeah, I'm not going to lie, I kind of like the ring it has. My eyes slide quickly to Max's before narrowing. "You didn't, did you?" Because in all honestly, I was a little preoccupied at the time. For all I know he could have recorded the whole damn thing.
Max looks offended that I would even ask such a preposterous question. "Of course not!"
Okay, now I actually feel a little bad for asking.
"Too bad I didn't think of it at the time." His face breaks out into a huge grin. "You know, so it could be used as evidence."
Yeah, right.
All I can do is roll my eyes before turning back to Marissa.
"So you see, everything you've said is nothing more than wild and unfounded exaggeration. Just the gossip mill churning out its usual worthless crap." And I'm looking at the girl who runs that freaking machine. And don't think I don't know it.
She raises a perfectly waxed brow. "But Jordan is moving."
Shaking my head, I enunciate slowly as if I'm speaking to someone who has a debilitating cognitive disability, "No, she's not." Jeez, this crazy ass chick is like a dog with a freaking bone! Let it go! Not one damn thing out of your mouth has been right so far! Just take your freaking bouncy ass self and leave! "Seriously, don't you think I'd know if my own girlfriend was moving?"
Yeah, that's right, I just put it out there. And I said it to the school's biggest gossip. By the end of second lunch, everyone will know that Jordan and I are now together.
The bigger meaning behind that statement is-you mess with her and you mess with me. As Chris Hartley found out Saturday night. Hey, it's not like I'm proud of going ape shit all over him... oh, who the hell am I kidding? Of course I'm proud that I kicked his stupid ass. And you know what? I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat.
Tilting her head, she narrows her sparkling blue eyes at me. "I live right down the street from her, Parker, I saw the sign myself. It went up this morning before school."
Something cold slithers through me as her words reverberate throughout my entire body. Because what Marissa's saying can't possibly be true. Jordan would have told me if she were moving back to Boston. Wouldn't she? Not bothering to respond to Marissa's words, I pull out my phone before proceeding to call her.
But it goes straight to voicemail.
So, I text instead.
The three of us stand there like idiots in the now quiet hallway staring at my silent phone for about thirty seconds. When nothing happens, Marissa shifts her curvy body towards me until I feel her perky breasts pushed right up against my arm.
"Sorr
y to be the one who has to break the news to you, Parker, but your girlfriend is definitely moving."
I don't think Marissa is the least bit remorseful about filling me in on this particular detail.
"If Jordan really cared about you, she would have told you about this herself." She gives me a look brimming with faux sympathy before batting her long lashes. "It wouldn't surprise me in the least if she was just stringing you along this whole time. You know, the general consensus around here is that she's nothing more than a cock tease. Honestly, I never understood what you saw in her in the first place." She reaches out, slowly trailing her fingers up and down my arm. "Text me sometime, Parker, I've really missed you."
Before I can shake her loose, she's already gone.
For just a moment I stand there feeling strangely paralyzed before Max interrupts my whirling thoughts.
"Don't listen to her, Marissa doesn't know her ass from a hole in the ground."
I stare down at the still silent phone burning a hole in the palm of my hand.
So why haven't I heard from Jordan then? Why hasn't she called or texted me since Sunday morning? Is she avoiding me? Would her parents seriously throw their house up for sale because of this? What happened Saturday night wasn't Jordan's fault.
Without a word, I start jogging down the hallway.
"Dude, where you going? It's lunch time and I'm starving."
"I need to see Jordan," I holler over my shoulder, "I have to get this straightened out right now."
"Maybe we should eat first-"
Shaking my head, I don't bother answering.
"Okay, well good luck then."
Unfortunately I have the sinking feeling that luck isn't going to be on my side this time around.
Chapter Eighteen
I'm not going to lie, it feels like there's a giant boulder sitting in the pit of my gut. And damn if Marissa's words aren't churning in my head the entire time it takes for me to hightail it over to Jordan's house. Which ends up being a record breaking four minutes flat. You better believe I hauled some major ass to get there, probably broke about ten different traffic laws in the process as well. But I don't care about all that crap. What I need is to find Jordan and straighten this whole freaking mess out. Because as much as I want it to not be true, I have the bad feeling that it might be.
Confessions of a Heartbreaker Page 15