Melissa shakes her head, dumbfounded. “Jennifer! Did you get naked?”
“No.” It comes out slower and more restrained than I meant it to, but only because my hand was up his shirt, and for a second, I was reliving the smooth, hard as sheetrock feel of his chest. That boy has rippling abs for days. Forget the six-pack. I’m pretty sure Jessie has eight.
Heather gasps so hard you’d think a snake just sprouted from the top of my head. “So let me get this straight. You slept with Jessie Fox, in his bed, all night long, kissing, and maybe you were naked?”
My mouth opens, then closes. “When you say it like that, it sounds…Honestly? I was going to say horrible, but I believe the term I’m looking for is accurate.”
Neither of them cracks a smile.
“Okay”—Melissa calls time with her hands as if to stave off a panic—“everybody calm down. Just tell us who you are, and what you did with Jennifer Barkly.”
“Like really?” I swat her knee with the paperback between us. “I have like wanted Jessie Fox to notice me forever, and now, you’re concerned that he’s maybe noticing me too much?”
“Is this for real?” Heather squints into me as if trying her best to decode the situation. “I mean, is he really into you, or is he using you? The first thing you do is spend the night with him right off the bat? I thought you mentioned something about him wanting a trial period girlfriend until June.”
I don’t say a word. It felt real. I’m not going to deal with graduation until it gets here, so there’s that.
“Look, just slow down.” Melissa pulls my hands toward her. “You’re just too caught up in the moment. Under normal circumstances, you’d never spend the night at a boy’s house. That’s like freaking insanity! You’re just letting Jessie get away with things because of your obsession with him.”
“You let Joel do things to you because of your obsession with him.” I’m quick to fire back. It’s true. Melissa lost her freaking head last year after Joel mowed her down with his truck.
“Yeah, but he was Joel Effing Miller.”
“Well, this is Jessie Effing Fox,” I say, incredulous. Jessie is just as good as Joel any day of the week. And here I thought they’d venerate Jessie and me, put us in the ranks among other super couples like Joe and Kelly, Greg and Jenny, Luke and Laura, Sam and Diane. But this? This is a ball of crap on fire.
“Joel was an untouchable god,” Melissa counters. “There were circumstances.”
I suck in a sharp breath.
“What she said.” Heather gives me that look of pity I hate so much. “Plus, to her point, Joel really was basically untouchable. And Jessie? Well, he’s sort of touchable—as in everybody’s touched him.”
“So you’re saying I’m just one of the crowd.” Tears beg to come, but I fight them.
“Look”—Melissa blinks back the moisture glittering in her own eyes—“all I’m saying is that Joel and I waited. We had genuine feelings before things got serious. We said I love you. We didn’t just fall into the sack.”
Genuine feelings, I love yous— they think Jessie and I are just a joke.
“Same with Russell and me.” Heather shrugs as if apologizing for the fact. “We were completely together at that point.” She spins the class ring he gifted her absentmindedly with her thumb. Russell and Heather—much like Joel and Melissa—are perfect for one another. In fact, in a slightly incestuous turn of events, Russell’s dad is now officially seeing Heather’s mom. They’re really cute and happy together. His dad even landed a job as an office supervisor down on the docks after being released from prison less than a couple of months ago for investment fraud. I don’t remember anyone in this room giving anyone else a hard time. A pang of guilt slaps through me.
I look to Melissa. “Is this payback because I gave you and Joel such a hard time?”
“What? No!” There’s something emphatic in her voice that lets me know this is true. “I swear, I just don’t want Jessie Fox taking advantage of you. He has a reputation, and if you keep spending the night at his house, kissing him all night long in his bed, so will you.”
“Crap.” I blink back in disbelief. “I don’t know why I thought the two of you would actually be happy for me.” My voice runs threadbare as I sniff back my emotions. “Maybe you should just go.”
Melissa glares at me, muddy tears streaking her face. “You just don’t get it, do you? You’re in over your head, Jen. Slow it down, or get out before you regret this silly arrangement.”
“Silly arrangement?” I shake my head, ready to toss my once-upon-a-time best friends out on their pretty double-pierced ears.
Heather and Melissa stagger to the door and pause.
“There’s nothing wrong with taking it slow,” Heather says it quiet and measured as if trying to tiptoe through a minefield.
Mel takes a sagging breath. “And there’s definitely nothing wrong with falling in love first.”
They take off, shutting the door behind them, entombing me in my newfound misery. I pull the pillow forward, and without warning let loose all over it, soaking it, drenching it with the stabbing pain inflicted by my two closest friends on the planet.
* * *
On Sunday, Jessie and I talk on the phone all day. I don’t breathe a word of what was said in my room with the two girls I thought would be jumping for joy with me. We talk about Jilly, the fun she had at her sleepover—Jilly begs me to come over in the background, but I tell her I think I might have a sore throat coming on so I’d better not. It’s true. I sound like a frog in the garbage disposal, but only because I’ve been sickly upset. I can’t believe that at the height of my happiness, my two best friends have decided to let our relationship disintegrate. Just because Melissa and Heather had a perfect road to happily-ever-after doesn’t mean everybody does. Jessie plays the Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band album loud enough for me to hear while we pull apart all the silly things we have in common, our love for Saturday morning cartoons withstanding.
His last basketball game—the final game of his entire high school career is next Friday. A home game, and, of course, I’m going. I offer to bring Jilly as well.
Monday comes, and no sooner do Melissa and Heather see me coming than they whisper amongst themselves.
My heart sinks into my stomach. I don’t need this crap. Instead of heading over and hanging out, I duck into the English building and straight for my locker. A small spray of debris lies strewn over the floor, and I spot a few of the notes Melissa and I have passed between classes peppering the floor. I snap them up and notice the rest of the contents from my locker dotting the floor like breadcrumbs that lead to the hole where my locker door once sat.
“Shit!” I jump up and head over. My mirror lies in pieces at my feet. My trusty bottle of Babe perfume is kicked to the corner. My books are all still there, but there’s a plate from the cafeteria inverted over them as French toast and syrup drips over my economics book. I glance around, and no one seems to notice the locker horror I’m experiencing. I pluck out my old makeup bag and my spare set of reading glasses before reporting it to the janitor at the end of the hall. My heart pounds like mad as I make my way to homeroom. I don’t think Melissa or Heather would ever do anything this low. It’s pretty obvious I’m on Tess and Rachel’s shit list.
During journalism, both Tess and Rachel make it no secret how they really feel about me—gifting me the finger, giving me outright hard looks—the kinds of glares that say we’re going to slash your tires and your neck. Suffice it to say, all of my fight is drained from me, and it hasn’t even been a full day of this bullshit. I decide to spend nutrition in the stacks buried among the books, but not even their gilded leather spines can comfort me. Five minutes before the bell rings, I notice a huge stampede from the oversized window that looks down onto the quad. Apparently, Chad Nakamoto solved the Rubik’s Cube, and I missed the holy event. Even the librarian ran out, screaming like her hair was on fire. Figures. A Hasbro miracle just occurred ri
ght here at Glen, and I’ve missed it no thanks to my self-imposed exile.
Lunch comes, and I contemplate tucking my tail between my legs and sitting with my friends again, but just as I’m ready to stop, drop, and roll over my dignity, Jessie Fox springs up from nowhere with that vexingly handsome smile.
“I missed you.” He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me into the dark corner of the stairwell.
A swell of emotion comes, and there’s not a single word that can wrangle its way out of that locker-sized lump in my throat. Instead, I hike up on my tiptoes, and my lips find his. We spend the rest of our break feasting off one another’s mouths. All of the angst, the heavy as lead heart that I’ve been carrying around, melts to nothing and just like that, Jessie has me feeling lighter than air, soaring higher than cloud nine on the kite of his affection.
The bell rings, and we head to speech together. The ThunderCats presented their great pizza caper last week, and I think today, we’ll be brainstorming act two.
“Rachel’s in there,” I say as if it were news to him.
“So what?” His forehead wrinkles as he pulls me in. Jessie gives a subtle squeeze to my waist as if reassuring me I have nothing to fear. “She won’t give you any trouble, I promise.”
I may have neglected to mention anything about my locker getting blown up and dissected. I’m not really proud of the fact I’ve suddenly become a target for his ex-harems’ ridiculous behavior.
Heather makes a beeline to me as soon as I walk through the door and shuttles me into a corner.
“I’m your safe place. Remember that.” She glances behind me just as Jessie pops up. “You better be good to her,” Heather snarks before taking a seat with Connie.
Once the bell rings, Mr. Murphy trumpets the attention of the class with his window shattering whistle skills. “Since the group project went over so well, we’ll be narrowing down to pairs for this next speech. This speech is informative in nature. You and your partner will have two weeks to accomplish this assignment. Regroup and discuss!”
“What do you say?” Jessie offers up a high five, and I meet him in the air.
“The ThunderCats live to see another day.”
“What should we do the speech on?” I hate public speaking. I dreaded getting up in front of the class and discussing pizza of all things.
“What it’s like to go from mild to wild? Vice versa?” He tips his head back, his lids lowering, seductive.
A graveled laugh rips through me, and it sounds sultry, sexy. Jessie has a way of making me feel wanted every second he’s around. “Since our assessment on the situation isn’t quite complete, how about we inform them how to fill out college apps? That way everyone can benefit, especially since we have freshmen through seniors in the class.”
“Done deal. Did you app?”
“Only every school in the western seaboard. You?”
“Same.” That high-beam smile of his diminishes ever so slightly as we both remember the grim reality that there is a very real timer on our faux relationship.
After school, I head straight for my Suzuki. Jilly’s school gets out a full ten minutes earlier than Glen, and I hate that she has to wait for me. Jessie has his final week of practice, but he said next week, if I wanted, he could pick me up, and we could get Jilly together after school. I know she’d love that.
A large white mark on the door of my car catches the light, and for a second, I think it’s bird crap.
“Oh shit.” I take a step back. Embedded deep into my emerald green paint, keyed into my driver’s side door are a series of crude, diamond-shaped letters spelling out DIE BITCH. “Great. Just freaking great.” I hop in and drive down to Jilly’s elementary school, trying not to let it get me down.
But it does.
Can this day get any worse?
Jessie
All the way home from practice, my mind rotates on one thing—one person only, and that person is Jen. I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone occupy my mind more. Maybe Jilly the time she broke her leg skiing, but that’s because I was worried that something life-threatening might happen to her. She needed surgery and had a pin put in. I was sick for a week until she was home and out of the woods. For a long time after that, I’ve paid careful attention to my little sister. Without Jilly in this world, life would be lonely in the cruelest way. And now that we have Jen in our lives, it feels as if it was lonely still, and we just didn’t know it. For whatever reason, I’ve grafted her in as family—and not in any sisterly way. I park and spring into the house to find Jilly and Jen in the kitchen. A couple of pots percolate on the stove, and the house actually smells like a restaurant.
“Hey, loser.” Jilly hops off her barstool and heads over to stir something simmering on the stove.
“Nice to see you, too.” I make a face at her while trying to hide my blooming grin reserved just for Jennifer.
She gives a covert wave while turning off the burners. Her mood is significantly deflated from her usual cheery self, and I don’t need a roadmap to tell me that it’s been a crap day for her. I figured there would be drama. Heck, I knew there would be.
Jennifer pulls the pot to the sink and begins to drain it like a seasoned pro.
“Let me help you with that.” I stand behind her, my hands steadying over hers as we do the task together.
“Ooh!” Jilly gasps at our close proximity, and I can feel Jen stiffen beneath me.
“Jilly, why don’t you see if we got any mail?”
“Will do. Try not to have a baby while I’m gone.”
“She’s a punk,” I whisper into Jen’s ear and steal a kiss.
She spins into me, a smile already on her face replacing the melancholy just a second ago. “A very perceptive, good-natured punk. When are we ever going to be alone?” Jen bites down on her lip, seducing me without meaning to. That’s the best part about Jen—she doesn’t have to try.
“After dinner, she takes a shower and gets ready for bed like clockwork.” I lean in and brush my lips over her neck like I’ve been aching to do since fifth period. “You want to pull a little overtime?”
She jumps back as her eyes widen at Jilly, already back from her menial task. “Sounds like a study date to me.”
“Drop the act,” Jilly spits it out while rifling through the mail. “Just stay out of each other’s pants when I’m in the room, would you?”
“You can’t pull a damn thing past her,” I whisper.
“I heard that!” she bubbles with laughter while scattering magazines and bills over the counter, before her enthusiasm stops short. “Oh my God.”
Both Jen and I turn around to find her staring dazed at a sealed legal-sized envelope.
“What’s that?” I start to head over, and Jilly bolts up the stairs, clutching the contents in her hands.
“Get back here, you little cute punk. It’s dinner!”
“I’m not hungry!” Her tiny voice grows smaller by the second.
I glance back to Jen, wetting my lips with my tongue in a quick revolution. “It looks like we’ve got that alone time we’ve wanted after all.”
“What about that letter?” Her cheek twitches with a smile as she comes over and slips her hands up my shirt. Just the feel of her skin over mine makes me close my eyes a moment, taking in the warm sensation.
“I’ll get to the bottom of it. Probably Guinness wanting to contact her over her vast Cabbage Patch Doll collection.”
Jennifer bubbles with a laugh. “Mine can rival hers, you know.” Her hair waterfalls down her back, and her eyes shine glassy in the light.
“Cabbage Patch Dolls are my favorite,” I tease. “I knew I liked you. Are you hungry?” I nod toward the pasta steaming on the counter.
“I am.” She wraps her arms around my neck. “But not for food. Is the Barbarian ready to come out and play?” Her lips tremble when she says it. Something about Jennifer feels especially fragile this evening, and I can only guess Tess and Rachel gave her a load of shit today. I
’d bring it up, but I don’t want to ruin the moment.
“I’m not sure Genie is ready for that.” There, that’s the truth—and a first for me.
She frowns. “The student demands a lesson from the sensei. Something diary-entry worthy that will make my head spin when I read it decades from now.”
“Diary worthy, huh?” My cheek hikes up on one side. The thought of Jennifer curled up with a private journal on her lap is adorable. I’d pay good money to see that. The more I learn about her, the more I want to spend every waking minute with her.
“What can I say?” She gives a coy lift of her shoulders. “I’m a nerd that way.”
“I’m a bigger nerd. Want to see my comic book collection?” There’s a sarcastic edge to my voice, but I’m very much serious. I’m pretty sure I can out-nerd Jennifer any day of the week. She gives a slight seductive nod, and I lose it. “Race you to my bedroom.”
“Like what do I get if I win?” Her entire face opens like a flower.
“I’ll toss in an extra lesson.”
“Two for one? That means Genie is closer to getting her wish.” She bolts up the back stairs so fast I can’t catch her—don’t want to.
“I’m pretty sure I’m the one who’s getting his wish granted.” And that may be true, but in no way am I going to rush it. And, even though it goes against almost everything that I once believed in, I’m not pushing for it at all. At least not in the interim.
She lands on my bed with a bounce, and I shut my door and bolt it. “Don’t move.” I head over and straddle her, tipping her backward until I’m lying over her on my elbows.
“What’s the lesson, Sensei?” she says it breathy, her chest pulsating into mine.
“This.” I pull her hands up over her head and land my lips to hers. Her mouth opens for me, and I fall right in, head over heels—I’m done. Jennifer has me falling hard, falling toward something I didn’t believe existed, falling for something that feels a lot like home.
We tumble and roll, unable to drink one another down fast enough. Her hands find their way up my T-shirt, and I let my fingers drift slowly to the edge of her sweater. I pull back just enough and flex my brows at her as if asking her a question, and she gives the faintest nod. We resume our kiss, our deafening, heart-stopping, mouthwatering exploration of one another’s mouths as my hands slowly inch up the inside of her sweater. A dull groan comes from me as soon as I hit skin. Jennifer is soft, smooth, and creamy. Without putting too much thought into it, I lean up and pull off my T-shirt. Her mouth opens, panting from our self-imposed workout as she takes me in like this. Carefully, I touch the hem of her sweater, and she helps evict it from her body. There she is—her perfect tits nestled in a tiny peach bra. I rub my thumb over the lace, and she takes in a never-ending breath.
Hold Me Now (A Totally '80s Romance Book 3) Page 16