Hold Me Now (A Totally '80s Romance Book 3)

by Addison Moore

  Jessie picks one up. “I don’t know where to begin.”

  “I don’t want you to read them.” Jilly snaps them all back in a fervor.

  “What do they say, Jilly?”

  “They started off nice enough—even if she did call me her favorite little shit.” She hiccups before her tears ever show. “But now she let her real feelings show. She hates me! She’s glad she’s gone. She’s glad to get away from me.” Jilly tosses herself onto the bed and breaks down into deep, heart-wrenching sobs.

  One thing is for certain, whoever is behind all of this, whoever orchestrated this to make it look as if I did it, is nothing short of a monster.

  “Jilly.” I go over and pull her into my arms as her tiny frame trembles beneath me. “It probably wasn’t a great idea for me to have you write to your mom. But those letters you got back weren’t from her.”

  Jilly and Jessie exchange a quick look.

  “Where did you send them, Jilly?” he says it stern like a warning.

  “I didn’t send them anywhere. I didn’t even put her name on the front. I just wrote To My Dear Dead Mother.”

  Jessie averts his eyes before looking to me. “Jilly has something to tell you.”

  Jilly pulls away and scoots up on her bed as if to create a buffer zone between us. “My mom’s not dead. She’s a witch, and I hate her. I really, really wish she was dead.”

  My heart thuds hard and loud as if it just malfunctioned.

  Jessie takes up my hand. “Jilly and I have different mothers. Our father has many children. We’re simply the ones that he kept around because our moms sort of flaked.” All of Jessie’s sorrow, a thousand apologies come through in his tired, sad expression. “I don’t think she meant to deceive you.” He shoots a look to his sister. “But in the event you did, I need you to apologize right this minute.”

  “Sorry.” She smears it with attitude, but I know Jilly’s heart. She meant it. “So, how do you think my mom got those letters? Do you think the post office read them and knew where to send them? There’s no way anybody could have faked those letters. Nobody knows she called me that horrible name but you guys.”

  Jessie shoots me a look that says it all. He hates me. He thinks I ratted out all of their secrets, that I ratted out all of our secrets. A part of me is starting to wonder if I did. Maybe after I slept with Jessie, my brain malfunctioned, and I’ve somehow procured a very wicked alter ego.

  “No,” Jessie says it quick enough to put that fire out. “She didn’t get them. Someone is upset that Jen and I are together. They’re trying to use you to get back at us.” A part of me wants to tell Jessie that he’s right. Someone hates the idea of the two of us being together, of the two of us being happy. My car door and what’s under those bumper stickers comes to mind. “You’re not to get the mail anymore. Has anything else been happening that we should know about?”

  She shakes her head, tears coming to her eyes for the very first time.

  “We’re not going to lose you, Jen. Right?” For the first time, Jilly looks genuinely worried and afraid.

  “No, never.” I pull her close to me, and Jessie wraps his arms around the two of us as we form a tiny circle. “I’ll always be here for you, I promise.”

  That’s one promise I never plan on breaking.

  Jessie drives me home a little earlier than usual. He’s been quiet, and it scares me. We pull up just shy of the house, and he kills the engine.

  “You’re mad at me, I can tell.” I didn’t mean for the words to blurt out. They just did. If I didn’t say them, I was going to explode.

  “I’m not mad at you.” His brows dip into that V like maybe he is. He forces a smile to come and go. “I just don’t know why you can’t seem to remember who you told those things to.”

  “That’s because I didn’t tell anybody.” My voice pitches unnaturally, a little too fast and loud, and I can’t help feeling that suddenly Jessie and I are thrust into our first argument.

  “You told someone, Jennifer. You had to have. Maybe you thought the conversation was private. Maybe you’re positive this person would never tell, but they did. You can stop covering for them. Are you afraid of what I’m going to do to them? I won’t do anything. Just tell me who it is. Was it your brother?”

  “What?” I screech so loud the sound of my own voice actually hurts my ears. “Like I would really tell my brother what we call your dick!” I reach for the door and unhitch my seatbelt. “I said I didn’t tell anyone. Why can’t you just believe me?” Tears swell just below the surface, and my chest heaves because I’m going to lose it. I can’t stand that whoever did this is actually succeeding in tearing us apart.

  His eyes gloss over with a rage of their own. “Come back, Jen.” His voice sweetens as he tries to grasp my arm, but I jump out of reach. “I want to believe you—”

  “But you can’t!” Tears slick my face, my nose starts running, and I wipe the gross slick with my sleeve. “Why isn’t my word good enough for you?”

  “Because you’re the only one I told certain things to—things that were in that paper. And when Jilly said she told you what her mother called her, I knew you must have told someone.”

  “I didn’t!” I scream so loud the car rattles.

  “Then, did you write that article yourself?” he barks back, dumfounded, as if this were a real possibility.

  “I need to get out of here.” I run all of the way to the house as Jessie screams my name. But I don’t answer. I won’t answer the phone if he calls either. I don’t want anything to do with Jessie Fox anymore.

  But Jessie doesn’t call that night.

  I guess he doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore either.

  * * *

  Thursday comes, and I can’t bring myself to go to school. My mom tells Jessie I’m not feeling well when he comes to the door, and he doesn’t exactly demand to see me, so there’s that. I called Ramona and asked if I could take two days off, assuring her I would be there on Monday. I’m not abandoning Jilly. I just need a breather.

  Both Heather and Melissa try to brainstorm with me on how this could have happened, but there seems to be no answers, only endless questions that avalanche at every turn.

  Mrs. Robins yanked that stupid article, citing that someone sidestepped her authority. It turns out that wasn’t the official school paper. Someone printed their own and distributed copies. But none of that matters. The damage is done.

  Spring break is upon us, and despite the overall feeling of being stalked, Melissa and Heather convince me to hit the beach. Jilly is still in school since her break doesn’t start until the week after Easter, so Jessie left a message with my mom that he could take care of her this week. He also said next week she’s headed to camp, so I won’t be needed then either. My heart may as well have imploded when she relayed the message. Jessie really doesn’t want me around.

  Melissa tries to hand me a fistful of magazines as we lounge under the broiling Southern California sun.

  “No thanks.” I dig my toes in the sand in a weak attempt to keep cool.

  “I have the new Tiger Beat. There’s a pullout of Boy George with your name on it.”

  “That’s nice.” It’s not like I’m going to turn that offer down. Now that it’s pretty obvious Jessie and I are over, I’ll be back to making out with my Boy George folder in no time. I’m a loser, and both of my best friends know it, too.

  “Here.” Heather tries to hand me an ice-cold Aspen. It’s my favorite soda, but I decline with a flick of the wrist. “You need to stay hydrated. Melissa and I aren’t going to haul you back to the car when you pass out.”

  “Good.” I settle back on my elbows and feel the sting of the sun on my face. “Leave me here to rot for the seagulls to feast on.”

  Heather tunes her tiny pink radio to KROQ and blasts Till Tuesday’s “Voices Carry” as I close my eyes and soak in the words. The three of us once sang this song out loud in the middle of a hot summer night. We shouted the chorus
as loud as we could until one of Melissa’s neighbors ironically told us to shut up. I’m betting Jessie wishes I would shut up. Only too bad for me, because I didn’t actually say anything.

  The music sounds great, and the weather is perfect, but none of us are having a great time. Like the best friends they are, both Heather and Melissa are wallowing in my misery right along with me.

  Heather sprays her hair down with Sun-In. “Think really hard. Was anyone ever around when you and Jessie were naming your—”

  “No,” I cut her off, fast and loud. “Don’t go there. That’s what set Jessie and me off in the first place.”

  “It’s so weird that whoever did this got to you both so fast. It’s like they were a fly on the wall during all of your private conversations.” Melissa tugs up her French cut bikini bottoms. Her bathing suit is totally cute, a bandeau top and bottom she bought at the Limited for half price. I’m still wearing my red two-piece from last summer. I was startled to see it when I pulled it out of the drawer because it made me realize how much red I infused my wardrobe with just because I knew it was Jessie’s favorite color. And, now, here we are, over and out before we even got a chance to truly expand our wings. I thought Jessie and I were going somewhere. I thought this was the real deal, and we would last forever. I even pictured our wedding, me in a miniskirt wedding dress, something so rad not even Modern Bride could comprehend. He would wear a neon pink tie because that color really brings out the green flecks in his eyes. Jilly would be my matron of honor because I could never pick between Heather and Melissa. Besides, Jilly and I would be closer than sisters by then.

  “There was no fly on the wall. There wasn’t even a ghost of a mother.” I tell them all about the letters. At this point, I need everyone looking at it from every angle.

  “God, it’s obvious.” Heather rolls her eyes “The sister did it. She probably made up that stuff about her mom, too. I can’t believe her mother would call her a little shit. Who would say that about their own kid?”

  “There’s no way she did it,” I’m quick to defend her. “And how would she print the school paper and distribute it at Glen while she’s clear across town at a different school?”

  “With all the money that family has?” Heather tips her head at the idea. “She can afford to be in two places at once.”

  “Jilly wants us together.” Something she said to me in passing comes back. “Although, she did mention once that she felt like I was stealing her brother.” My muscles tense at the thought. “But she loves us together. Believe me, it wasn’t Jilly.”

  “Well, somebody knows something.” Melissa rolls over and pulls the tub of margarine between us. Her older sister swears that nothing tans you faster than margarine, so we’ve been buttering ourselves up ever since last summer.

  Heather scoops a yellow glob out with her fingers. “Word’s getting out about a party Mark is having Friday night.”

  “My parents are driving up north to pick up my grandmother. They’re bringing her home for Easter. He’s taking advantage of a short twenty-four hour interval and forgetting the fact we have white carpet.” Logic isn’t his strong suit.

  “You have a huge backyard. It’ll be fun.” Melissa shrugs with those long sad eyes because we both know fun is something I’ll never participate in again.

  The entire school seems to be at the beach today, and I’m betting all of these same people will congregate in my backyard come Friday. I scan the sea of familiar faces and cringe at the thought of anyone having fun at my house ever again. Rachel sits off by the snack shack browning herself with a bottle of Bain de Soleil for that St. Tropez tan she’s looking to keep up. She’s hanging out with Amanda Peterson and a few other girls from the cheer squad. I hate how beautiful she looks in her hot pink bathing suit. It’s made out of wet suit material and has black piping lining the trim. Her boobs are popping out so far that anyone in a three-foot vicinity stands to get their eyes taken out.

  Rachel turns my way and flips me the finger. Amanda whispers something to her, and they both share a laugh.

  “Ignore.” Melissa opens her enormous beach ball colored umbrella and lays it between the bird-flippers and us, effectively blotting those bitches right out of view.

  “I’m convinced the sister did it,” Heather says it so casual while leafing through the pages of Teen magazine that my heart breaks for Jilly and for me. I want to refute this theory, but she’s the only one who could have heard any of that— “It wasn’t Jilly.” My heart thuds with relief that I was actually able to push the words through my lips again. “She wasn’t at home the night Jessie and I were discussing our parts and naming them.” Words I never thought I would speak. “She was at a sleepover.” Thank God for small mercies.

  Heather rolls her eyes. “Oh, Jen, you and Jessie probably said those things more than once. I’m just saying there’s no one else on the planet who could have done this. If you really want to save your relationship with Jessie, you’re going to have to explore this option.”

  “Not going there.” I pick up the copy of Tiger Beat just as Amy settles at our feet. She spreads out a giant navy towel with a picture of a perfect Hawaiian sunset she purchased on a family trip to Waikiki Beach last summer and plops on down.

  “So, how are you holding up?” She bumps my leg with hers, and even that tiny gesture makes me miss Jessie ten times harder than before.

  “We’re trying to figure out the mystery.” Heather fills her in.

  “So, the sister did it?” Amy’s jaw drops.

  “No.” I swat them both with the magazine in my hand. “And don’t repeat it. This is how vicious rumors begin.”

  “Speaking of rumors”—Amy winces as she looks to Melissa—“did you tell her?”

  “No.” Now it’s Melissa kicking Amy. “But, no thanks to you, I’m going to have to.”

  “Sorry!” Amy shrugs. Her cheeks turn a violent shade of pink, letting me know that whatever it is it’s pretty bad.

  “Tell me what?” I push Amy with my foot. I’m not above getting into a fistfight with anyone today, just to get to the bottom of this nightmare. “Do you know who wrote the letter?”

  “No.” Amy shrinks, backing out of range from either my feet or me. “But I do know who seems to be dating Jessie Fox again.” She snatches up Heather’s magazine and ducks behind it.

  I snatch it right back out of her hands and get in her face. “Who?”

  “Tess Nichols.”

  Jessie

  Tess Nichols is more or less a nightmare. When we met a few years back, she introduced herself to me by plunging her tongue down my throat at a party, and I didn’t exactly stop her. We’ve been inseparable ever since. Scratch that. She’s been a serious clinger ever since—with the one brief exception of my time with the only girl I love, Jen.

  “Where’s Jennifer?” Jilly wails as she gets into the backseat of my car. Both she and Tess basically ignore one another for the most part. I never even considered the possibility of Jilly having a relationship, any kind of friendship, with one of my many revolving door girlfriends until she built something real with Jen. My stomach pinches with agony just thinking about her. I cried like a pussy in the shower yesterday, but I’d die before I admitted it. Right now, I need to get to the bottom of this bullshit. Yesterday afternoon, Tess said she had valuable information she would share with me—only she hasn’t been so quick to share. She wants something in exchange, and she wants it up front, and that something is me—or more to the point, the Barbarian.

  “She’s probably—”

  Tess cuts me off, “She’s at the beach. Everyone’s at the beach.” She smirks back at Jilly. “We’d be at the beach, too, if we didn’t have to do an after-school pickup like a bunch of forty-year-old parents.”

  Not once has Jennifer complained of having to pick up Jilly. Yet, another reason I can’t wait to get to the bottom of this hell and get Jennifer and me back on track.

  “Things will be back to normal when you get back f
rom camp,” I assure my little sister. At least they had better be. I can’t stand that Jennifer and I had that big blowout in the car last week. I was about to head over and pound down her door, hell, climb the trellis to her room just to see her again, even if she did decide to beat the shit out of me. I need her in my life. I don’t care about this bullshit anymore. But that’s when Tess stopped by and dropped a bomb on me. She said she was positive she new who pulled this shit, and that she would tell me—Friday night. I know what she’s doing. She wants a chance to try to get into my good graces again—try to get into my good boxers again. And, as much as I want to shake the answers from her, I know she’ll clam up if I don’t play along. I’m just hoping I can do this for one more day.

  “Normal normal?” Jilly pushes her face next to my seat. “As in you and Jennifer will stop hating one another?”

  “We don’t hate each other.” God, I hope she doesn’t hate me.

  “Then, why is she at the beach, and you’re back with the demon sisters?”

  Tess clicks her tongue at my sister’s audacity. “It’s just fucking me, okay? Just one demon, got it?”

  “Crap,” I whisper under my breath. Jilly’s little ears aren’t that sensitive to salty language, but that’s another reason, among thousands, why Jennifer is better for her.

  Demon. I shake my head. A part of me wants to laugh. The moniker fits in every sense. Jilly has always spoken her mind about the girls I date, usually right to their faces.

  “So”—Jilly wails from the back—“will things go back to normal normal or not?”

  I’d reassure her of the fact I’ll be with Jen, that we’ll be normal normal, but I’m afraid even going there will clamp Tess’s mouth shut even tighter.

  “I’m not sure about that.” I said it more for Tess’s sake than I did Jilly’s. A spear of grief cuts through me because it feels as if I’ve just planted a dagger through Jilly’s heart and mine. “No one knows what the future holds.”

  “I do.” Tess runs her tongue over her lips. “I know exactly who I’ll be holding in the future.” Her finger curls under my chin. “And I’m looking at him right here.”