Throb (Club Grit)
Page 15
“Hey, Becca. It’s been a while and I wanted to check up on you,” he said, getting up to give me a hug. My mom glared and my dad pushed her shoulder lightly. She was always the bad cop and he, the good cop. It was a lot like what I had with Jason.
“I’m doing okay, I guess. I’m sorry I didn’t thank you for what your parents did, with the interview,” I said, and I knew I didn’t have to explain any more.
“It’s fine, I wanted to see how you’re doing, though. If it’s okay with you, would you maybe be up for going out with me today?” He turned to my parents. “I’ll have her back by ten.”
My dad laughed. “She’s a grown woman, she can do what she wants. You two have fun.”
“But—” I started, but my dad stopped me.
“Rebekah, you’ve been holed up here too long. You need to go out and do stuff. I know what happened sucked, but this boy came out all this way to see you. He’s asking for a date, not for you to marry him. It’s not a tall order. Besides, if you don’t want to see your friend...why are you blushing?” Dad never used my full first name unless he was serious about something, because everyone had called me Becca, by my own insistence, ever since the seventh grade. My mom glared at my dad, and I held my hands up to my cheeks, even more self-conscious. “He’s a very nice young man. Easy on the eyes, too.” It was true: Jason had dressed up, the way he had when he saw me at Starbucks after what had happened at Keanne’s house, a stark contrast to my mom and dad, who were in comfortable weekend clothes.
“Dad!” I squealed as I went back to my room to get my stuff. My dad could always be counted on to embarrass me in front of people, but it was good natured and not like what Keanne had done in the least.
As I exited the house with Jason, the afternoon sunlight hit me for the first time since I’d come to Compton, to escape from the blinding flashes of the tabloid photographer’s cameras, and there wasn’t a reporter in sight. Just as my mom had predicted, the media had found a new target, and I was finally free. It was a new day and the first of the rest of my life.
In the cab, I got nervous and put on the pair of large sunglasses I was keeping stashed in my canvas tote, the pair I’d had since freshman year and that, ironically, I’d bought at the same place Jason was taking me: the Santa Monica boardwalk. Jason kept one arm wrapped around my waist, the other on my hand.
Jason kept his hold on me as we walked past the rides and the people trying to win prizes. We reached the shore and just started walking. It was ridiculous: I was in a white sundress and Jason was in a pair of khakis, a buttoned up shirt that I’d untucked from beneath his belt in the cab because he looked too stuffy, his tie in my tote bag, but still wearing a blazer and a pair of what I was sure were real tortoiseshell Ray Ban Wayfarers.
It was like we were from some weird fashion shoot for an obscure online fashion company, the kind of shoot that was meant to get reblogged by random users on the Internet and was meant to sell a lifestyle, but right now, I couldn’t imagine anyone wanting my lifestyle. Anyone that was judging me and Jason based on the clothes we were wearing would be mistaken: this wasn’t a vacation for us, but an escape. Anyone that thought that the way that we held onto one another was a flashy way of showing off that we were in a relationship would have been wrong: Jason was both my anchor, keeping me grounded so that I didn’t run away by staying in place, and the lighthouse that had drawn me out of my self-imprisonment in Compton.
We might have looked good, but the fact I’d lost weight was because I hadn’t wanted to eat much during the last week, given the fact that I couldn’t get the fact that I’d be mobbed by a literal mob of paparazzi at my college, which I’d thought was a safe space. The only reason Jason was dressed up was because he didn’t want to risk offending my parents. I would have rather been with Jason in his apartment, drinking tea and listening to a lazy day audiobook as we lounged together on his couch in our pajamas, but after a week of basically doing that, sans Jason, I needed to get out, to get fresh air, to remember that the world was bigger than just Beverly Hills, the way I’d been forced to remember on the Ferris Wheel the last time we’d come to the pier.
Jason and I walked in silence and solidarity, for tens of minutes in each direction, not saying a word until we were finally tired, and he broke the silence, suggesting we get something to drink. We made small talk but just having Jason next to me and with me was enough.
The lights on the boardwalk rides seemed to get brighter, but it was really the sky that was starting to get darker, going from a light blue to a dark orange as the sun started to set over the Pacific Ocean. Jason and I sat on the end of the pier, watching the motes of sun disappear into the horizon as we sipped our shakes. We had time to kill, finally, as we waited for the fireworks display to start.
I continued to swing my feet back and forth lazily over the pier, my opaque white jelly sandals taking on a warm tone, almost as warm as my skin, as the setting sun’s light gave them an orange hue. I looked to Jason, his emerald eyes as bright as my eyes were dark, the umber fire of the clouds reflected in his pupils, as if there was a forest fire within him, needing release.
“I can’t do this anymore, Becca,” said Jason quietly.
“Jason? I thought what we had was okay,” I said, equally as gently. I didn’t want to assume the worst, but it was hard, after what had transpired over the past few weeks.
“It’s okay...but it’s not great. What I feel for you? We’re not supposed to be boyfriend and girlfriend, Becca. I’m sorry I have to do this,” he said, and as he got up from his seat next to me, in one deft motion, I expected him to run away so I got up too, but he didn’t leave.
He got down on one knee.
I tried to turn away, but it was impossible. I pinched myself, but was I was seeing was real: Jason was down on one knee.
“Rebekah, I’ve waited for this day for a long time,” he said, holding my hand, our fingers interlaced. He was using my full name, which he never did before, because I’d insisted that everyone called me Becca, but he wasn’t exactly ‘everyone’. “I’ve known that I was in love with you since the moment I met you, but I didn’t want to pressure you into a commitment, because I thought it would scare you away. Seeing you date other guys was hard for me but I just found myself wishing inside that you’d see that I was the one for you, that we belong together. However, after Keanne came back into your life, I knew I couldn’t afford to wait any longer. That’s why I was at lunch with my parents that day that you went to his house...at lunch with my parents, and my grandparents. That’s also part of why I went to your house, in Compton. I got your address from one of the girls at Omega House, who checked the records for me. I had to ask your dad for permission, to ask you something, and he gave me his blessing.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, my lower lip quivering. Just moments before, I’d thought he was breaking up with me, but that obviously wasn’t the case. However, if he was joking about that, was he joking about this too? I couldn’t take this game any longer, and usually, I could, from Jason, just not when it was about something serious, when it was about my heart.
“Rebekah, this ring was my grandmother’s, and she wanted me to give it to the woman I wanted to marry. One day, I hope you can give it to our grandson too.” As Jason said this, he pulled out a small, unassuming black leather box. It was crackled with age, like true leather, and as he opened it, I gasped. Even in the low light of sunset, I could tell that the ring was made of real diamonds. They glowed a gentle white instead of the rainbow colors of faux gemstones. In the center of the top of the ring was a large cushion-cut diamond, surrounded by bead set diamonds, and on the edges, there were more diamond accents, set in untarnished platinum.
“Jason, are you asking me what I think you’re asking me?” The only thing more unbelievable than the fact that he and I had gone through so much together was that he’d stuck by me through it all, and that now, he was on one knee, and I knew what that meant. I just had to hear him say it.
“Yes, Jason, I will!” I said, resisting the urge to wipe one of the many tears making its way down my face, as he slipped the ring onto my finger, pulling him up off his knees to kiss him and wipe the self-satisfied smirk off his face. He rose, lifting me into the air to kiss me, pulling me up so quickly that my sandals slid off my feet and lay on the pier as he held me up, caressing me, as if to show the sun and the ocean that we were finally one, just as they were, blending in the horizon.
Epilogue:
THE BLONDE WOMAN IN THE HERMES SCARF BRUSHED A LOCK OF HAIR OUT OF MY FACE as we both looked into the white vanity mirror, so old it was the color of antique lace. “Look how beautiful you are, Rebekah” she said gently. “I can only hope my daughters are as happy and gorgeous as you on their wedding days.” Jason’s mom gave me a kiss on the top of the head as her husband and my dad came in the room. Jason’s parents gave me a smile before they left to go take their places in the front of the church, leaving my dad and I to have a moment.
“They’re ready for you,” said my dad. “I can’t believe it. My little girl’s all grown up. I guess you’re not exactly ‘my’ little girl anymore, are you?” He was right. I was not really a full grown woman before I’d met Jason, before I got my act together, but ever since Jason had proposed to me, everything had changed. I’d ended up walking at graduation, and Jaina (whose product ended up having a very successful launch, so she was able to buy out her salon partner’s share and rename the place “Jaina’s”) and the rest of my family had been there to cheer for me. I’d skipped the after parties and just gone straight home to Compton, with Jason, for a small get together at my parent’s house.
That last summer, I’d worked in the HR department at one of his relative’s companies which published a fashion magazine, and my people skills had earned me a shot at a few journalism pieces, so I was moved from the human resources department to the actual newsroom, where I’d earned myself a column for the next school year, focused on my life as a college student in the Los Angeles area. It was a dream come true: it came with all the fun and glitz and glamour I’d enjoyed as Keanne’s intern the summer before, but I didn’t have to compromise my morals, get stuck in dangerous situations, or have to change myself. Instead, I got to enjoy it and grow as a person while still living with Jason, who kept working at Club Grit to make money for grad school.
I met Jason’s parents and they took to me instantly. They said that since Jason had met me, he’d changed a lot, that he’d become more responsible, and that if I was the one that had inspired that change in him, they would always be in my debt. They offered to pay for Jason’s full schooling, but he refused: the promise that he’d made, to work to pay off half of his MBA on his own was a promise he wanted to keep.
My parents weren’t difficult to impress either. The fact Jason had come to Compton to find me was something they took as a sign of his feelings for me. It didn’t take much more convincing.
“Dad, you raised me well,” I said, rising from the vanity. “You and mom gave me the best gift of all: an education. If it wasn’t for that, I wouldn’t have ever met Jason, and well...I’ll always be your little girl.”
“Even in those five inch heels?” my dad joked. “You’re almost taller than your old man.” He took my arm and led me down the old stone steps of the church, before we got to a large wooden door. “You ready?”
“Let’s do this,” I said and he just smiled as he opened the door, keeping my arm in his as we reached the entrance to the church, and started down the white carpet down the aisle between the pews.
The four piece string quartet started to play the traditional wedding song as we proceeded down the carpet. Underneath my white fluted gown, with the fitted strapless top, I was careful to make sure my silver and white shoes didn’t catch on the many underskirts, focusing on Jason, who, standing at the alter in a plain black tux with a dark brown cummerbund and tie, was looking at me as well.
My father gently slid his arm out of mine before I gave him a kiss on the cheek and he took his place in the pews. While the preacher read the traditional service, I just found myself lost in Jason’s eyes, until he opened his mouth to read his vows.
“I, Jason, take you, Rebekah, to be my beloved wife, to have and to hold you, to honor you, to treasure you, to be at your side in sorrow and in joy, in the good times, and in the bad, and to love and cherish you always. I promise you this from my heart, for all the days of my life.” He and I had both memorized our vows, and we knew what to expect. During the rehearsals, I’d always had a tear in my eye, but nothing like when we did it for real. As the stained glass’s jeweled tones scattered over his pale skin, dancing as the wind rustled the trees outside the church, I knew that I’d never hear and see something as beautiful as this in all my life. I only looked down as he took our hands, raised them up so everyone could see, and slid plain gold band onto my ring finger, right above the engagement ring he’d given me just months before.
And, as I read mine, I knew that the way I looked at Jason was the way he would look at me, that to him, this would be the most beautiful moment in his life. “I, Rebekah, take you, Jason, to be my beloved husband, to have and to hold you, to honor you, to treasure you, to be at your side in sorrow and in joy, in the good times, and in the bad, and to love and cherish you always. I promise you this from my heart, for all the days of my life.” I slipped the matching plain gold ring onto his ring finger, and then we lowered our hands, looking away from each other for the first time, as we looked to the preacher, who smiled as he said those words we so desperately needed to hear.
“You may now kiss the bride,” he said to Jason, who needed no other permission. He took me in his arms, pulled me close, tilting my head up to kiss me, his strong arms practically bursting out of his tuxedo as he held me as tightly as his lips were pressed against mine, before we released, and looked out at the crowd.
Row by row, our friends and family rose, tossing their confetti into the air, the traditional rice mixed with white flower petals and transparent glitter that, in the light of the church, glowed a million iridescent colors and lingered the longest in the air, lit by the stained glass but propelled by the pure joy that our loved ones had for us.
Through the din of the crowd’s claps, the only thing I really heard was Jason, whispering in my ear as we headed back down the aisle, together this time, asking me, “Is it everything you ever dreamed of?”
“And more,” I said, keeping his hands in mine as tears streamed down my face, even though I was smiling.
The rest of the night almost past in a blur, until Jason and I had our spotlight dance. We took the floor as the string quartet started up the waltz. Jason wrapped his arm around my body as he lead me across the floor. Although we’d practiced in private, dancing in front of our families was something else, and although I felt nervous, worried that I might slip or trip or somehow lose myself in Jason, he kept me up and floating across the floor with him, taking the lead as he had in our romance and would for the rest of our lives, before he passed me off to my father for a dance, and he danced with his mother. One pairing turned to two, and then to four, as our parents danced together and we danced with our grandparents, who then danced with their spouses, until the entire floor was filled with couples dancing.
Until I was back in Jason’s arms, I missed them, even dancing with relatives and friends.
Until he was back in mine, I was incomplete.
But once I was back with him, and DJ put on “Wrecking Ball”, I shimmied off my skirt, leaving me in the white bodice top and silvery gray jeans I’d had hidden beneath the dress, slipping off my heels as he took
off his blazer and we lost ourselves in the throbbing crowd that had formed to celebrate our love, the way that forever, we would lose ourselves in the rest of the world, lost together, in each other’s arms.
And this time, we’d never let go.
Playlist
I listened to a lot of good music while writing “Throb”. This book was a lot more lighthearted and positive than “Pulse”, while retaining the fun parts, and I think the playlist I made reflected that. Hopefully, it’ll bring you as much joy as it brought me. A lot of the songs are from Becca’s perspective, a few are from Jason’s.
“22” – Taylor Swift
“Apologize” – Timbaland, One Republic
“Birdhouse in Your Soul” – They Might Be Giants
“Blow” – Ke$ha
“Blurred Lines” – Robin Slims
“California Gurls” – Katy Perry feat. Snoop Dogg
“California King Bed” - Rihanna
“Closing Time” – Semisonic
“Counting Stars” – One Republic
“I Can’t Do It Alone” – 3Oh!3
“Miss Jackson – feat. Lolo” – Panic! At the Disco
“Party in the USA” – Miley Cyrus
“Party Like a Millionaire” - Millionaires
“Rock Me” – One Direction
“Sleazy” – Ke$ha
“S&M” – Rihanna
“Shut Up and Drive” – Rihanna
“Tik Tok” – Ke$ha
“Why Can’t I” – Liz Phair
“Wrecking Ball” – Miley Cyrus
“You’re on Fire” – They Might Be Giants
About the Author
Brooke Jaxsen. 20. Girl in college, majoring in English. I’m writing new adult romance novels, mostly contemporary, but expect some fantasy and paranormal in the months to come! I’ve always wanted to be a writer but never thought that people would actually want to read the kinds of stories I write: the ones about girls like me, who every day (and night) are one step closer to full adulthood, to full womanhood.