“No.” I shook my head. “I’ve known him for two days, Kelsie. I’m not even sure he likes me.”
She snorted. “Please. Are you for real? You’re all every guy at Frankford can talk about.”
“What? Seriously, this is one sad little farm town if I’m the hot news.”
Kelsie rolled her eyes. “C’mon, Brenna. You’re hot.” She giggled at my blush. “You’re a sexy, sexy mama and you know it! And you’re smart. And you’re a mystery, with your trip to Europe for a year and your cool wardrobe and your Share Time thing.” Kelsie waved her hands around and popped her eyes out, then whispered, “Mysterious Brenna Blixen.”
I waved my hands around too. “Dork,” I whispered back, and we both fell on the bed laughing. Then we watched the movies and talked about celebrity couples who just did not make sense and the fact that the couple in The Notebook should totally get together again in real life.
“I don’t care if they’ve been apart for a million years. They’re so perfect,” Kelsie sighed, applying thin coats of black paint to my toenails. I was okay at toenail painting, but Kelsie was an artist. She could paint all sorts of tiny things that look just like decals. She was doing tiny pink skulls on my nails, and they were intricately detailed and assembly-line identical. It was a little creepy how good she was.
“They are really cute together. So, do you have anyone in mind in the love arena, Ms. Sex Goddess?” It seemed like it was all done with Saxon, and Kelsie always had insta-crushes in middle school, so I hoped there was already someone new who caught her eye.
“Yes! Do you know Chris Holcomb? He’s in our Crafts class.”
“Yeah.” I tried to keep my voice even. “Isn’t he in that band Folly?”
“Yes! Do you like Folly?” She bounced up and down on the bed, making all the nail polish bottles clack and threatening to spill hot pink polish all over her bedspread.
I grabbed the pink polish and twisted the cap on it. “Um, I just got a CD of theirs, but I haven’t listened to it. Do you like them?”
“I love them. And Chris is so cute. Have you noticed him?” She shook me by the shoulders and bounced again.
“Someone at lunch mentioned that he noticed my shirt. He was asking about getting something made for Folly.” I wasn’t positive how Kelsie would react to my news, but, in typical Kelsie fashion, she was thrilled.
“This is so perfect! I’ll go up to Chris on Monday and tell him how you’re my good friend, and he’ll ask me if I can talk to you about shirts and that’s it. History will be made!” She flopped back on the bed and squealed.
We cracked up, and Kelsie yelled at me for messing up her paint job. I was glad to hear that things between her and Saxon had cooled down in a way that left me feeling less guilty about my kiss.
Not that I was okay-ing the fact that I’d kissed Saxon. It was most of all a betrayal of the unspoken thing that Jake Kelly and I had. But Kelsie had planted some serious seeds of doubt about Jake. Maybe I was taking his interest in me way too seriously. He was, after all, just another guy in my class. Maybe he just wanted to talk to me while I was in class with him.
When Kelsie went to the bathroom to get ready for bed, I slid my laptop out of my bag. I got an internet signal and went online, then logged into my Facebook page. Jake’s picture was there in my very small friend list, and when I clicked on it, I picked up a pretty standard guy’s site. His wall was filled with YouTube videos of dirt bike races and screaming bands mixed with lots of gangster game invites. I went to his pics. He had four up. The first, his profile picture, was him standing in front of his dirt bike. There was one of a big blue truck that looked like it belonged in a junkyard and one of Jake on a tractor, a piece of straw hanging out of his mouth, his eyes squinty in the too bright sun. Both where pretty much exactly what I expected.
There was one tagged picture. It was Jake, and he looked like he might be drunk. He was sitting between two girls, his arms around them. They were wearing a lot of black eye makeup and were both tilting their heads down and making kissing faces at the camera. Underneath the picture, one of the girls had written, “Good times, J! Call me when yur around again! XOXO”
I was looking at the picture when Kelsie walked back in. My instinct was to click the laptop shut, but that always made people totally curious about whatever you were looking at. Unfortunately, Kelsie was curious anyway.
“Let me see,” she demanded. I turned the screen and she looked at the pic with narrowed eyes. “The hottie is Jake?”
I nodded. She grabbed the laptop and flipped through his four pics over and over again. “Why is it that boys always have, like, two pictures?” she grumbled.
“I don’t know.” My problem wasn’t the lack of pictures; it was the people in them. Who were those girls to Jake? And was that picture an insider’s look at the real Jake? Or was the real Jake the guy I shared smiles and stares with in class?
“You have picture comments.” She clicked without asking me. I guess I should have been annoyed, but there was something so likable about Kelsie that I just let her do what she wanted and was glad for her company. Her eyebrows went up high. “Hello, Jake,” she muttered.
“What is it?” I almost didn’t want to look, but my curiosity got the better of me.
There were a few pictures of me from Jutland. The one Kelsie had clicked on was a beach scene, and I was wearing a bikini. I know most girls are freaked out about that kind of stuff, but I thought I looked good in it, so I put it up. There was a comment from Jake. “Hottt!!!!” it said. I felt a weird heat low in my belly.
“He can’t spell,” I said lamely.
“Yeah, I don’t think it was a misspelling,” she giggled. “You do look hot, Ms. Brenna Sexy Mama. Hot with three ‘t’s.’”
She clicked on one of me standing in front of the castle in Denmark that was supposed to be the one that Hamlet took place in. It was just me, nothing really special. He had written, “Yur sexy.”
“Um, he’s not like this in class.” I felt embarrassed by his openly flirty comments and even more embarrassed by his atrocious spelling. Ugh! I was a prude and a grammar snob all at the same time!
“Boys are always braver online,” Kelsie said knowingly. “There’s one more.”
It was a picture of me reading a book. It had also been taken in Denmark. I was reading Catcher in the Rye, which is one of my favorites of all time. When I realized I’d left my copy in the States, Thorsten went out and hunted one down for me one in an all-English book store. I’d read it in one day, and he and Mom thought it was so funny that they’d taken a picture of me curled up in the chair for my reading marathon. Jake had written, “smart gurls rock” under it.
“Woman, he likes you! A lot!” Kelsie gushed.
I shrugged. “If he lives up to his reputation, he probably writes stuff like this under every picture of every girl who’s his friend.”
“We could check any profiles that aren’t private,” she suggested.
“Kelsie,” I groaned. “That’s so pathetic. Besides, most of them will be private.”
“You never know,” she sing-songed.
So we tried, and most were private, but Kelsie was friends with four girls from his enormous friend section.
“Let’s look,” she said happily, logging me out and logging herself in. “Oh, a friend request from Brenna Blixen.” She looked at me with wide eyes. “Should I accept?”
“No way. That’s girl’s a fruitcake.” My heart was settled right in the pit of my stomach. Saxon might be a jerk, but at least he put it right out there for everyone to see. Jake, it seemed, had this secret other life that I didn’t know anything about. I hated it.
“Mmmm.” Kelsie clicked the ‘Accept’ button. “I love fruitcake. Okay, here is the first girl. Ugh, why am I her friend? She’s like a valley girl clone.”
“We live in north Jersey. How is she a valley girl?” I said in defense of the girl.
“She’s blonde and she’s an airhead,” Kelsie sai
d absently. “Ooh, here’s a picture of her and Jake.”
I didn’t want to look, but I was right there at Kelsie’s side in a second. How was I supposed to not look? Realistically, there was no way I could resist the temptation.
He gazed at the camera totally bleary-eyed, just like in his other picture. He had definitely been drinking or worse, and his arm was around her in this really lazy way, like he was super comfortable with her. Her caption was, “Me and 1 of my Boyzzzz!”
“What does that mean?” I asked. “And why so many ‘z’s’?”
“It means she’s a super skank with a harem of ‘boyzzz,’” Kelsie buzzed, “and Jake is one of them. Brenna, don’t sweat it, this picture is from last spring.”
There were random comments under the picture about how cute the girl looked and what a good couple she and Jake would make written by other fish-faced girls with no grammar skills and way too much eye makeup. It made my stomach churn. I started to really, really wish that I had never checked the stupid page.
But Kelsie was totally enjoying herself. There were similar pictures of Jake on two of the other girls’ pages and it made me similarly upset. How was this happening? How was my Jake also this half-drunk man whore? They were like two pieces from different puzzles; no matter how I tried, I couldn’t fit them together.
Kelsie yawned. “You like a bad, bad boy.” She poked me with her toe as she stretched. “I’ll go get you the air mattress.” She went to get it and I went back to Jake’s profile, to the first picture, the one of Jake with his gray eyes and crooked smile, leaned on his dirt bike. This was the picture that made sense to me. Was I stupid to think this was the real Jake?
We set up my bed, and Kelsie collapsed and was out like a light in no time. I tossed a little. I had gone from feeling like a loose woman to an oblivious loser. What was it I had done with Saxon? A few kisses? What had Jake done? What was he doing right now? What was Saxon doing? It was Friday night. Where were they? Those were my last thoughts before I fell into a deep sleep.
I thought I’d have crazy dreams all night, but there was nothing. I was totally at peace until the morning. When I got up, I asked Kelsie if I could use her shower and she rolled her eyes and waved me away. “Of course. Let me sleep.”
I showered, did my hair, put on makeup and got dressed for my day. IKEA was a good forty minutes away, so Mom and Thorsten were coming early.
“Don’t get out of bed. My mom just called, and she’ll be here in five minutes.” Kelsie smiled and asked if I was sure. I kissed her forehead. “I’m sure. Let’s do it again soon.” She gave me a sleepy thumbs up, and I went to sit on her porch.
Sussex County was made up of rolling hills and lots of big, old trees. It used to all be farm land, and most of the farms were dairy farms, so it was still really beautiful. A lot of the people had jobs in New York City, like Thorsten, so there was an abundance of money here, and the people with money bought these old farms and made them look authentic except really well maintained and with only a few horses for joy riding. It was like those modern art pictures of cities where they take out the garbage and neaten everything up; hyperrealism.
I sat on the steps waiting for Mom and Thorsten to pull in. The wind was cool on my face and smelled really crisp. I loved autumn in New Jersey. Kelsie’s mom was in the kitchen; I had said a quick goodbye and thank you and turned down her offer for breakfast. It would have broken Thorsten’s heart if I’d eaten on a Saturday morning without him. I could still hear her mom puttering in the kitchen through the open window, but other than that I felt alone in the world, which was one of my favorite feelings.
Sitting there on the steps, enjoying the peace, I wondered if I should think about becoming a hermit. Or a nun. Cutting guys out of my life would pretty much slice through all of my current problems.
Chapter 5
When Thorsten’s truck pulled up, I was so happy to see them my heart pattered in my chest. Mom and Thorsten waved out the windows. It felt good to be loved.
“How was it?” Mom asked.
“So fun.” I pulled off my shoe and sock and wiggled my toes, showing off my new pedicure.
Mom shook her head in admiration. “Kelsie is a true artist.”
“How do you know I didn’t do it?”
“Because the skin around your toes isn’t painted.” She ruffled my hair.
“I’m starving,” Thorsten said. “Your mother wouldn’t let me eat, Brenna. Is it okay if we stop and grab a bite?”
“Yeah, that’s fine.” I laughed; I had Thorsten so pegged it was ridiculous.
My good mood bubbled on and on, and even had me singing along to the classic rock station Mom and Thorsten love. No one with a soul can resist “Jack and Diane,” even on a bad day. But of course, it was too good to be true. I tried not to let them see my panic when we pulled into Zinga’s.
“We’re stopping here?” I pressed my forehead to the window and groaned.
“Is this okay?” Thorsten asked. “I’ve been craving their apple tarts. Do you want to go somewhere else?”
“No.” I forced a smile and peeled my head off the glass. “This is great.”
I couldn’t live my life avoiding him. Besides, with any luck he’d be out hoeing some pumpkins or whatever they do on a farm, and I wouldn’t even see him. Mom was already exclaiming over all of the weird little things that were everywhere to buy.
“Look honey!” she called to Thorsten, and I could see him struggling between being good to his wife and being good to his stomach. Luckily, he didn’t have to decide, because Mom already bounded away from a stone fountain shaped like a boy peeing into a shell to a huge Virgin Mary standing on a mirrored glass ball.
I wandered towards the mounds of bumpy gourds in huge crates and looked through them absently.
“Hey,” said a voice so achingly familiar it made my head light.
If I said that I wasn’t happy to see him, it would be a bald-faced lie. I was almost sad that I had seen everything I had seen on the computer the night before. But I guessed it was better to find out about him earlier than later, before my heart got completely crushed.
“Hey.” I smiled half-heartedly. I couldn’t help it. I’d always kind of sucked at pretending that I wasn’t feeling something.
He squinted at me with concern. It was the same Jake, complete with his chipped tooth and bashful smile. “Are you okay? You look kind of tired or something.”
“I checked your Facebook page.” I picked up a bumpy green gourd and turned it in my hand slowly.
His eyes widened and he swallowed twice. “Oh.” He shifted from one mud-caked boot to the other. He wore almost exactly the same outfit he’d been wearing on Friday. I thought it was weird that he didn’t have a separate set of clothes for work and school. “That picture, with the girls, they weren’t my girlfriends. Aren’t my girlfriends. I mean neither of them was a girl I dated.”
“Yeah, I didn’t think so.” I arched my eyebrow and when his face fell, I knew I didn’t have to finish with, and that’s exactly the point.
He pulled his work gloves off and glanced around, then grabbed my hand and dragged me to the greenhouse a few feet away. He closed the door behind us so we were completely alone in the bright, warm space.
“It’s not what you think.” He ducked his head to catch my lowered gaze. “Brenna, it isn’t.”
“What do you think I think?” My voice cracked around the words.
“That I’m…” Jake was at a loss. “A party guy, I guess. Like I’m a player?” He seemed embarrassed to say the words.
“What is it, then?” I felt so much more hurt than I had any right to feel. I hardly knew him. We weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend. I made out with Saxon half an hour after leaving Jake at school. I hadn’t heard his side of the story. But no matter how much logic I piled on the situation, I still felt hurt.
He swallowed so hard I could see all the muscles in his throat stand out. “I’m no angel. But I made my mistakes, and, trust m
e, I learned from them. What I feel about you, Brenna…” He stopped and took a deep breath. “I’ve never felt like this before. Like I’ve known you my whole life. But also like I’ll never know everything about you. Please, don’t judge me before I explain.”
How could I say no to him? It was fair. What he was asking me was totally fair.
“That’s fair,” I said out loud. “I can’t really talk now. My parents are probably already wondering where I am.”
“Do you have a cell?” He slid his out of his pocket.
I nodded.
“Can I have your number?” His words were slow and cautious, like he expected a ‘no.’
I said each digit slowly, and made him read it back to me.
“Can I call you tonight?” Hope made all the muscles in his jaw tense.
“Sure.” My voice wobbled.
“Can I…” He stopped and his jaw relaxed. “Can I kiss you?”
I didn’t answer, and he didn’t wait for me to. His hands caught me gently behind the neck and he pressed his mouth to mine, softly but firmly. Then he moved one arm around my waist and pulled me closer to him. As the space between us disappeared completely, he deepened the kiss, urging my mouth open and sliding his tongue in. He tasted like clean, cold autumn air and mint gum. I slid my arms around him and kissed him back. The warm, slow spread of his kiss melted my muscles and made my knees knock. He pulled away just an inch or two and left his eyes closed for a few seconds. My heart thundered back into motion and all that blood rushing back at once made me see little firework-like bursts of light in front of my eyelids.
“Whoa.” He rocked back on his heels, laughed, and turned a little red again. “I can’t wait to talk to you tonight.”
I nodded my dizzy head, but his words floated into my ears and clattered around without sinking in. I wanted him to decide to kiss me again, but he was already leading me to the doors and checking before he walked out next to me.
“Jake! C’mon man, the tractor’s running!” A man in a flannel jacket waved him over.
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