She was the first girl I ever loathed.
Junior year Constance moved back to Arizona, and Cody moved on to Emily, Nicole, Amber, Chelsea... My only saving grace was the fact that each girl only had his arm for about a week, and then he was back with me, sitting at my table for lunch, asking me for help with math, talking to me about the plays he made in the football game the week before.
By our senior year, I think everyone knew Cody and I were destined to be together. Everyone except Cody, that is. He never once had a serious girlfriend that year, and we spent every single available free moment together at school. He even started driving me home in the evenings, sometimes coming inside and chatting pleasantly with my mom before we worked on homework together. I was so crazy mad in love with him, most days I could hardly see straight. That year was the best and worst of my life, being so near Cody I could almost drink him in, yet not being fully able to claim him as my own.
Late that March, the class voted on yearbook superlatives. It wouldn’t have been a stretch for me to imagine being voted Most Studious, Teacher’s Pet, or a laundry list of other things, but my name somehow ended up in the most unlikely of places: Class Sweetheart.
Class Sweetheart. Me, Alexis Jennings, the girl who had not been out on one date in her entire life. The girl who had been pining away with unrequited love from the moment raging hormones entered her body. The girl who was holding on desperately to the hope that she would one day have the desires of her heart, even though the last sands of the hourglass were starting to slip through one by one as that last year of school came to a close.
And next to my name, printed in black ink: Cody Hewitt.
He laughed it off as a joke, of course. Everyone did, stating that they placed our names together because we were like two peas in a pod. Best friends destined to be immortalized in a humorous way for all time, right there in the pages of our yearbooks.
I laughed it off, too, because I had no choice. We had been friends for such a long time, I couldn’t blurt the fact that I was in love with him and expect him to accept it without a genuine relationship meltdown. It would be completely dishonest of me to be his friend while I felt that way, wouldn’t it?
It was funny right up to the day that we posed for our picture. We probably sat there together for half an hour as the photographer attempted to get a good frame, one or the other of us cracking a joke or accidentally blinking when she snapped the shot. The poor woman was trying every trick possible, and the two of us were awkward enough about the situation that we simply couldn’t just sit there and smile for the camera.
“Well, you’re the sweethearts, so why don’t you just kiss her on the cheek or something?” the photographer finally suggested.
Cody cleared his throat. I remember because my own heart felt like it had risen to my throat, and I wondered if his was having the same reaction. He shifted toward me a little, and he could have just leaned in and pretended to kiss my cheek, but he didn’t. Instead, he reached out and placed the tips of his fingers against my chin and then stopped, holding his hand there as if frozen. My curiosity was getting the better of me, so I turned just enough so I could look at his face.
I force a deep breath into my lungs as I drag my thoughts back to the present, shaking loose the grip of my memories. The yearbook sits open on my lap, and I gaze down at it, running my index finger across the page that I’ve looked at thousands of times over the years.
Class Sweethearts.
Cody Hewitt and Alexis Jennings.
And there, beneath my finger, the perfect moment Cody Hewitt noticed me captured for all eternity.
“Whaddya want, Alex?”
“Good, you’re awake,” I announce to the phone. I must be feeling nostalgic, because the sound of another human voice just made me want to choke up in the most illogical way.
“‘Course I’m awake. It’s Saturday night. D’ya think I’d be home or somethin’?” Heather’s voice comes across the line rather slurred and drowsy, so I know she’s been out painting the town. She also seems to slip into a countrified drawl when she’s been drinking, which is showcasing itself in all its glory.
“Please tell me you’re not driving.”
“That’d be stupid.” She laughs, and I can hear the music playing loudly in the background. “Sadie Lou’s drivin’ me ‘round. We’re havin’ a girls’ night.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“Whatever. You’d never go on a girls’ night. You make it to Louisville okay? Jake follow you the whole way?”
Rising from my position on the floor, I walk to the living room window, lifting the blinds to look out at the sleepy street. “Yeah, he followed me the whole way. He had the trailer on, though, so it didn’t offer him many options.”
“Sure ‘nough he had options. Like you need trouble to follow you out of town.”
“Just a temporary nuisance. He’ll be gone tomorrow.”
I can hear that the engine of the car comes to a stop, and the absence of that noise is accompanied by Heather’s groan. “Sadie’s makin’ me get some coffee.”
That thought brings me a little relief, even though Heather’s still grumbling on the other end of the line.
“Let me talk to Sadie,” I tell her, waiting as she hands the phone off.
“Hey Alexis. Your trip go okay?” Sadie’s voice drops to a more authoritative tone. “Just get in there and get a coffee, Heather. I’ll wait for you.” Letting out a sigh, her voice softens once more. “Seriously, how do you do this? I had to ask my mom to babysit Jonah so I could babysit Heather. Doesn’t it make you crazy?”
“Yes, I have to, and yes.” The sound of her laugh warms me a little. “Thank you for keeping an eye on her.”
“You owe me. How’s Bailey taking it?”
“Not so good.”
“Poor baby. She’ll get used to it, though. Kids are resilient. How are you taking it? Be honest.”
“I’m awake after one o’clock in the morning.” Admitting that feels like a shortcoming somehow, and I don’t want any pity. “I’ve forgotten what that felt like, before Bailey slept through the night.”
“It stinks today, sweetie, but you’re doing the right thing.”
My eyes dart to the hallway, and I think about Bailey sleeping on that mattress on the floor.
“Am I?” Tears threaten to spill over, and I bite the inside of my cheek to try to force them back. “I’m not so sure right now.”
“I feel like we’ve had this exact same conversation before, only backwards. You told me I was stronger than I thought. You stood next to me while I took the first steps.”
“And I’d do it again in a heartbeat,” I’m quick to assure her.
“I know. That’s the kind of person you are, and that’s exactly why you’re going to rock this new start. You’ll go to your job Monday, and things are going to feel normal in no time.”
“I’m sure you’re right.”
Hesitation keeps me from saying more, and I hear Heather mouthing Sadie in the background as she returns to the car.
“Don’t let him get to you,” Sadie tells me softly, as though she’s hiding our conversation from my sister.
My heart clenches, because I can’t figure out how she knows I’m thinking about Cody. Am I that completely, pathetically obvious after all these years?
“How did you know he was getting to me?” The question comes out so tentatively, I’m not really sure I said it out loud. She begins laughing, though, which cements my embarrassment at having uttered the words.
“You’ve been with the man all day. How could he not be getting to you, at least a little?”
Jake. She’s talking about Jake, of course.
“Yeah, he’s a trip.”
There’s a very small part of me that wishes she meant Cody, because then she could tell me to get a life or knock it off or give me an abrupt proverbial kick in the pants. But she doesn’t, and I hold it inside, right where it belongs.
Not everyth
ing’s about Cody, after all.
Not really.
Chapter Seven
Jake
“The wages of sin are death, make no mistake.”
Probably one of the rudest wake-up calls I’ve ever received, courtesy of what sounds like an older woman in the room next to me, probably a longtime smoker by the sound of her voice. A televangelist’s rant is permeating through the walls, turned up way too loud to be considered polite for our close proximity. The only reason I’ve been able to pinpoint her voice against his is because she feels the need to keep interjecting “amens” to punctuate his words.
The guy on the TV launches into one of those over-the-top prayers. I’m not really a praying guy myself, but I consider offering up a plea to make the two of them shut up. When he tidies up the end of his prayer and begins asking for donations, I groan and submit myself to the beginning of the new day.
Welcome to Louisville.
Empty. The trailer is completely empty, and the two disgustingly ugly couches have disappeared. Placing my hand against the side of the trailer, I stare inside in disbelief, feeling all of two inches tall. After I assured Alexis that her neighborhood seemed safe, and her belongings wouldn’t be taken…something like this is bound to crush her, right?
Part of me wants to drive away and pretend I don’t know, but it feels like the cowardly option. Instead, I head to the front door, hesitating on the porch for a minute, trying to decide how I’m going to break the news.
There’s no doorbell. That realization strikes me as odd, because don’t all houses have doorbells nowadays? Instead of dwelling on it, I knock on the door and shove my hands in my pockets, rocking back on the heels of my tennis shoes.
Hey, Alexis, someone stole your aunt’s putrid couch. Sorry about that.
Oh, someone stole your junk? That stinks. Guess you chose the wrong neighborhood after all, huh?
Look, you’re the one who chose Louisville. I’m just along for the ride.
Exhaling louder than normal, I glance back at my truck in the driveway. This is why I don’t get involved. I’m lousy at comfort and sympathy and all that stuff. I tried to push past it to help Camdyn and be a shoulder for her to cry on, and all that got me was some screwed up feelings and the loss of a great friend.
The door creaks as it opens, and I jerk my head back around to see two brown eyes peering up at me through the crack.
“Bailey, is that you hiding behind the door?”
“It’s Bailey,” she announces, moving the door enough that I can see her Cinderella nightgown and bare feet. “Did you knock?”
“I did knock. Is that proper procedure?”
“Proppy what?”
“Never open the door, Bailey!” Alexis orders as she rushes up behind her, all wild and unkempt. “Do you understand me? What if it was someone you didn’t know?”
“It’s Jay,” Bailey tells her with a shrug. Her nonchalance in the face of her mom’s panic makes me want to chuckle, but I control myself.
“Don’t open the door ever again. Tell me that you understand.” Bailey doesn’t answer immediately, so Alexis grabs her by the shoulders and turns her so they’re face to face. “You hear me, Bailey?”
“Okay.”
Alexis closes her eyes momentarily as she shakes her head, and I take the opportunity to let my eyes sweep over her. She must have fallen asleep with her hair in a ponytail, because it looks like it traveled during the night to where it’s currently resting just above her left ear. Her fitted T-shirt bearing the word “Indians” and her tight running shorts are accentuating her curves just enough that I can’t resist letting my gaze linger on them a hint too long. She opens her eyes just as I drag mine back up to her face, which immediately gets her flustered.
“I just got out of bed,” she explains, her fingers reaching down to tug on the legs of her shorts, failing in her attempts to make them longer. Giving up, she crosses her arms against her abdomen in a protective gesture.
It dawns on me that the constant baggy clothes might just be a fashion statement she reserves for my benefit. But why? Is she that determined to make sure I’m not attracted to her? The prickly cactus of a personality would probably do the trick on its own, but I can’t deny as I stand here looking at her that she’s a pretty stellar package. Outwardly, anyway…if it were possible to ignore the fact that she’s dull as dishwater and always has a scowl on her face.
“Mommy snores.”
Alexis throws Bailey a defensive glance, which allows me the opportunity to examine her one more time. For the life of me, I don’t remember having seen those stunning legs before. Not that I remember much about our…incident, but I’d gladly get that memory back to see what attracted me to Alexis in the first place. Heck, I’d like to go back to that memory and tell my younger, screwed up self to run like the wind.
“I don’t,” Alexis insists, shaking her head as she speaks. “I don’t snore.”
“Our daughter has a fantastic vocabulary.” I can’t be bothered to hide my smile as she pins me with that icy gaze she’s fond of throwing around. “For a three-year-old, I mean.”
“She’s almost four.”
That look she’s giving me is almost screaming, “You should know that.” And yeah, maybe I should. I probably would in the back of my mind, if I did the math and thought it made one iota of difference in her speech abilities. Truthfully, I don’t know whether she speaks well or not, I was just trying to needle Alexis. Looks like I managed to find success in that department.
“When Mommy sleeps, she does this...”
I look down at Bailey just in time to see her roll her head back, drop her mouth open, and let her tongue hang out like she’s catching flies. The temptation proves too great, and I laugh as Bailey straightens up and grins at me.
“Okay, Bailey. Why don’t you go find Hoppy.” Alexis shoos her back inside as she attempts to halfway hide herself behind the door.
“Don’t be too hard on her about the door. No harm came out of it.”
She glances back to make sure Bailey is out of hearing range before she turns her gaze toward me. “With all due respect, you have no idea about keeping her safe.”
“No idea? Are you kidding me?”
“You’re not exactly…”
Whatever she’s getting ready to say will only make my blood boil, and I’m not up for hearing any insults this morning. My mind is preparing to tell her so when I realize the boxes from the trailer are inside the house.
“Who helped you unpack?” My words sound harsh and accusing, but since I’m all but certain she was about to call me a deadbeat, I’m not sure I care.
“I did it myself.”
“And Aunt Betty’s couches? Don’t try to tell me you moved those yourself.”
“I got rid of them.”
My hand seems to reach up to my baseball cap on its own accord, needing some sort of diversion to fight the exasperation building inside. Lifting it and settling it onto my head a couple times does nothing to tamp down my frustration, but it affords me a few additional seconds so I don’t overreact.
“The furniture we had to go out of our way to pick up yesterday,” I finally say, linking both of my hands over the cap against the back of my head. “The furniture in the van that I had to drive thirty senseless miles last night to return? That furniture?”
She appears ready to lash out at me, or maybe she can’t decide between being confrontational and trying to keep my eyes off her clothing. Either way, she restricts herself to releasing a sigh as she drops her head.
“This isn’t the life I want for Bailey,” is all she says, quiet enough that I can barely hear her from two feet away. “You’ve made whatever point you’re trying to prove, so feel free to go. Nobody asked you to be here.”
“Yeah, you did. The minute you took my kid out of state, you played my hand.”
“If you truly think that, I’m sorry, but we’re fine on our own. Bailey’s going to be fine.”
Better
off with no father than with you. That’s what I hear, loud and clear. ‘Cause nobody wants you. Nobody.
“No,” I tell her as I shake my head, refusing to allow the words to penetrate. “No, I’m not playing into that game. She’s my daughter too, so unless you want me to fight you for some sort of custody agreement, I want the opportunity to see her.”
“Why are you here?” she asks, tears filling her eyes. “You can stand here all day giving me pretty speeches, but we both know you don’t care. And as much as it bothers you to hear it, we also know she’s better off if you’re not involved.”
“Really?” Her words cut just deep enough that I can feel some emotion roiling inside, and it flat ticks me off. Shoving the door back, I step into the house, watching her height increase about an inch as she tries to assume a defensive stance.
“This is my house, Jake. You have absolutely no right to step foot inside it unless you’re invited.”
Glancing at the door, I slam it closed with my palm and hesitate for a second before turning toward her, trying to contain my temper. Leaving my hand against the door at shoulder height, I stare at the wall so I don’t have to witness the condescension she’s throwing my way.
“Right here.” My voice sounds surprisingly measured, so I only take a quick breath before I continue. “You need a lock right here, and on the back door too. A door security guard that you can only unlock from the inside, but that’s too high for Bailey to reach. I’ll pick a couple up and come back to install them. Not today, though. I’ll wait until you can get off your self-righteous pedestal long enough to act like a civilized person for five minutes, in case it takes me that long.”
My hand slides down the wood until it locates the doorknob, and I tug the door open as I step back onto the porch. The trailer immediately catches my eye again, and I’m hit with the realization that I’ll be the one who has to take it to the rental place. Groaning inwardly, I retreat into my truck, pulling out onto the street so I can back to the trailer. While I’m lowering the tongue coupler socket onto the trailer hitch ball, I glance up to see Alexis standing against the door frame, watching me with her arms across her chest.
Curiouser (Girls of Wonder Lane Book 3) Page 5