Cross Country Hearts

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Cross Country Hearts Page 24

by Suzanne August


  She takes my elbow and turns me away from April. “Carlisle’s car broke down on the way here.”

  I raise my eyes to the ceiling. Of course, just like any clichéd movie, the groom is going to be late. “When can they get here?”

  “They’re a fifteen-minute drive away. We’re trying to get someone to go get them before anyone in the church finds out something is wrong.”

  Right. “Is my aunt back yet? And where did my mom go?”

  Beth looks at me, and I see the crazed look in her eyes. Yeah, I doubt anyone has ever said weddings aren’t stressful. “Hannah should be back here any moment, but she’s not answering her phone, and your mom went to go get the flowers down the street, but she forgot her phone here.”

  Shit. I pinch the bridge of my nose. Because I know my mother, I know her phone has to be in her purse. Since she forgot her phone, her purse also has to be here. Which means the keys to her car are here.

  “Where’s my mom’s purse?” I ask Beth.

  Her eyes widen. “You’re going to go get them?”

  “Yeah, just get me the purse, and I’ll run out.”

  Beth doesn’t argue. I wonder if she remembers the disaster involving me and a hijacked car this past week, but if she does, she obviously wants the groom here desperately enough that she doesn’t consider her better judgment. Beth rushes over to Navaeh and April, whispering something to the former, before grabbing a small red clutch from a table. April’s eyes follow Beth’s every movement, and when she witnesses her friend hand the purse over to me, her eyes also widen.

  “June,” she starts, “if you—”

  “I know. Now is a really bad time for a road trip.” I wave the purse in the air and spin on my heel. On my way out the door, I shout over my shoulder, “Don’t worry, this one will only take a half-hour!”

  Beth follows me out the door, and as soon she’s given me the details of Carlisle’s whereabouts, I run out of the church and find my mother’s car in the parking lot. Getting into the driver’s seat brings waves of déja vu, but mostly I worry about the fact that I’m now driving a car in heels.

  It’s only fifteen minutes, but the minutes go by slower than I want them to. It feels like all the intersection lights are red and that everyone is driving the speed limit when I don’t want them to. Eventually, though, I spot a black sedan pulled over to the side of the road. I have to do an illegal U-turn to get to them, but from church to Carlisle, it only takes twelve minutes.

  I put the car in park and get out just as everyone else in the sedan emerges.

  And shit, when Beth said them, I’d still only imagined getting Carlisle. Instead of just him, I also spot the heads of his father and one Jasper King.

  I close my eyes for a short second, willing myself to stay calm because this is April’s important day, and none of my problems matter. Then I try to suppress the anxiety, open my eyes, and wave a hand. “Everybody in! There’s a wedding I think someone needs to get to!”

  Carlisle laughs, and he gets to me first, giving me a tight hug. “Does your mother know you’ve stolen her car again?”

  I blink, and more swear words come to mind. I hope that, since it’s for a good cause, she won’t kill me.

  “If we hurry,” I say, “she might never find out it went missing.”

  Carlisle laughs again before running around to get in shotgun. When I take my focus from him, my gaze lands on the other two. Jasper and his uncle are only feet away from me, and because I still can’t look at Jasper, who admittedly looks incredibly handsome in a fitted tux, I look to the older man. “I got here as fast as I could.”

  “Good thing you did,” the older man mutters.

  I bite my lip. Maybe he’s still angry about the jail thing.

  Jasper is passing me as I turn to get back into the driver’s seat, but I keep my head down, so we don’t make eye contact, and I close the driver’s door before he says anything to me. As soon as the two back doors are closed, I put the car in drive and get the hell back on the road.

  “I can’t thank you enough for this,” Carlisle says to me.

  I glance at him and try not to take offense to the fact that he’s gripping the handle above the door for dear life. “The only thanks I need is for you to marry my sister.”

  He winces. “She all right?”

  “Well, I hope her makeup is still perfect by the time we get her down the aisle.”

  He shakes his head. “Of all the people who are going to be late.”

  I can’t help but laugh. “It’ll make for a great story in the future.”

  One more glance at Carlisle tells me that at this moment, this comment doesn’t make him feel better.

  We get back to the church in fourteen minutes. I sacrificed two minutes by not running a red light like I would have if Carlisle’s father wasn’t in the car, and then, of all things, I had to stop so a duck and her ducklings could cross the street.

  As soon as the car is in park, Carlisle jumps out, and his father follows behind on his heels. Because shotgun and the passenger seat behind it face the church, Carlisle and his father are already running up the stairs as I make to close the driver’s door.

  And when I turn around, I come face to face with Jasper King.

  We both startle. We’re standing too close. I take a step back but trip on a pebble. These stupid heels.

  Jasper glances at my feet. No expression changes, though maybe through the cracks, I think I see amusement. My anxiety makes me doubt it, though.

  And then Jasper says, eyes locking with mine, “Driving in heels, huh?”

  I hear what he doesn’t say: that maybe it’s not such a good idea.

  I can’t help myself. Before I think about what I’m going to say, the words fall out. “Still criticizing my driving skills?”

  Two days ago, he might’ve smiled. Even now, I’d like to say that the corners of his eyes crinkle in that maybe-amusement, but his mouth stays pressed into a thin line. In all honesty, he looks unhappy and exhausted.

  Without reason, I think back to the conversation I had with Georgia only a half-hour earlier. And deep down, I know she’s right. I proved that I can stand up for myself and be true to who I am when I talked with Melanie yesterday. I can do that even now.

  And I must do it before I’m too afraid and change my mind.

  “Jasper…” I start.

  But before I go on, my mother emerges from the church entrance. “Get in here! The wedding has to start!”

  Jasper and I both jump. I’m more scared of my mother than I am of the possibility of an unsalvageable friendship with Jasper. I abandon whatever I’m about to say to him and turn, slamming the driver’s door shut. I pick up the hem of my green dress, and I haul it up the stairs. I don’t even know if Jasper follows behind me.

  When I reach my mother, she holds out her hand. Without hesitation, I hand over her keys and purse. “I’m sorry—”

  “No,” she interrupts. “You did the right thing, but if you don’t get back to April and get this wedding started, there will be something to be sorry about.”

  Right.

  I follow her to the room April is in. Before I make it two steps, though, a hand grabs my elbow. It’s Jasper. And once again, we’re standing too close.

  He takes a breath, expression still blank and that unhappy look in his eyes. “June, look, I want you to know—”

  I want to know, and I truly do want to know, what Jasper is about to say, but I also know that this next hour is not about me or Jasper and our problems. It’s about two people who are about to get married, and that needs to happen first before any conversation between us.

  So even though it hurts, I interrupt him. “We don’t have time for this Jasper, I’m sorry.”

  His lips purse, but he gives a curt nod. I start to turn away, but he grabs my arm again.

  “Jasper—”

  “Take this.”

  Jasper slides a folded piece of paper into my hands. I glance down, but I have no i
dea what it could be.

  “When you have time, look at it,” he says. Before I respond, he’s turning away himself, almost running in the opposite direction of where I need to be at this moment.

  I don’t have a pocket, so I have to run back to April with the folded paper in hand. When I reach the room, everyone is ready, and my mother is giving directions for what’s about to happen.

  “June,” my mother says, “You’ll walk down the aisle after Beth. You’ll walk with Jasper, all right?”

  It’s not all right, but I’m resigned to it, so I nod my head.

  My mother claps her hands once. “Okay, it’s go-time.”

  The wedding guests are informed, and the orchestra music starts to play. I give April one hug and tell her she’s beautiful before standing in line before her with a bouquet in hand. Before I realize it, the wedding is starting, and I still have the folded piece of paper in my hand. I glance around for a spot to put it and find nothing but a trashcan.

  And well…

  I decide I have to at least glance at it before I throw it away because this wedding is way more important than whatever a piece of paper could be.

  As discreetly as possible, I unfold the paper and look down at what Jasper’s given me.

  I look at it for two seconds. It’s a new drawing, and it startles me.

  Then I fold the drawing up, and instead of throwing it away, I tuck it in the band of my bra under my dress. It’s uncomfortable as hell, but I decide in a fraction of a second decision that I can’t throw it away.

  Naveah walks down the aisle first, taking the elbow of one of Carlisle’s friends. Then Beth goes, and all too fast, it’s my turn. I walk forward, and Jasper holds up his arm, elbow presented. I loop my arm through it, unable to look at him, and together we walk down the aisle.

  My heart races, and I’m not able to focus entirely on the wedding. All I think about is the piece of paper. I see Jasper looking at me from the corner of my eye, but I can’t turn my head. It’s only when we part at the end of the aisle that his eyes finally catch mine.

  I have never been able to hide my emotions like he can, even now. He knows immediately that I’ve already looked at the drawing. And, almost imperceptibly, he smiles. The corners of his mouth lift in a tiny grin. His eyes are no longer dull unhappiness. I wouldn’t call them happy, but maybe I see relief and… hope.

  My heart beats faster looking at him, so I turn away and take my place. I look up the aisle to see everyone already standing, all eyes on April.

  And my sister is beautiful; she truly is. This is the most significant and happiest moment of her life so far, but all I think of is the little folded piece of paper.

  Because on that paper, Jasper drew a portrait.

  Of me.

  And it’s nothing like the one he drew of me long before, with my hands as claws and my eyes akin to a horrible beast. No, in this drawing, I’m… I’m me. Just me. He shaded my hair the exact shade of red it actually is, which is no easy feat, and my eyes are the same light shade of green that they really are. My eyes look directly out, almost like they’re bold and determined, but my mouth tips just slightly upwards, almost shyly.

  If possible, Jasper has captured exactly who I am in one drawing. I never would’ve thought it possible.

  But, somehow, he did it.

  Twenty Seven

  “So, what do you say?”

  In less than an hour, April and Carlisle are married. In all the rush, I have no time to talk to Jasper. As soon as we’re ushered back down the aisle and wedding photos are done, my mother grabs my arm and orders me to help her and Hannah with the reception. We grab the necessary items and get out of the church parking lot before anyone else. Only a few guests arrive before we go to the hotel hosting the reception hall.

  While my mother is busy bossing around the hotel staff, my aunt and I go around the tables and place paper airplanes on each plate, with each plane holding chocolate. But really, there’s nothing else to do because the hotel staff have done everything else. That means Hannah and I wait by the door while my mother finishes up.

  “You did good, June,” my aunt says.

  I only look at her briefly, but it feels good to hear her say it. “For getting Carlisle?”

  Her hand gently squeezes my shoulder. “Yes.”

  She’s probably still upset with me, but I know this is one step in the right direction, and I’ll take it.

  Ten minutes later, the reception hall fills with over one hundred wedding guests. I sit beside April at the center table. When Jasper walks in to sit beside Carlisle, I don’t shy away from Jasper’s gaze. I look at him straight on, and when he sees me, I smile. It’s not a big one, but it says we could maybe work out a truce. And maybe more than that.

  Jasper smiles back, and I know he’s thinking the same thing. Without a doubt, and I don’t need to decipher his expressions to figure it out.

  Dinner consists of salad before a choice of chicken, vegetarian, or steak. It goes by in a happy blur, and I even get in a full glass of champagne before anyone notices, and I have to switch to water. April hugs me more than once, and more than once, I catch her almost about to cry from happiness. The reception hall is loud, full of laughter, and bursting in the wedding colors of purple and white. The kids can’t sit still; they run around the tables throwing paper airplanes.

  And then, before I’m ready, it’s time for toasts. Jasper stands up first, and although I expect him to take his time and come up with a long, beautifully said speech, he doesn’t.

  Instead, he says simply, “Carlisle, you’ve been the brother I’ve never had, and you’re the core of what I call family. I can’t believe you survived this long enough to get married to someone.” Jasper tips his glass of water toward my sister and nods. “But I’m so glad it’s April because I know without a doubt you’ll drive each other crazy, which is exactly what you need to stay sane, cousin. You still have to convince her to like the ocean, though.”

  Everyone laughs and clinks glasses. I stand on unsteady feet and raise my glass, figuring it’s too lame to pretend I’m drinking anything but water. “April, I can’t pretend to be happy I get to give your toast with water, but I guess it would’ve been too much to ask you to wait four more years to marry Carlisle.”

  Everyone laughs, but all it does is make me blush. I’ve always hated being the center of attention.

  “You’re the greatest older sister anyone could ask for,” I say. “You’ve always been there for me, and I like to think that from this day forward, I’ll always be there for you when Carlisle overcooks the chicken like he always does or when he takes too long getting ready because I know you only take ten minutes before you’re ready to be out the door.”

  I swallow because at this moment, it hits me that April won’t be living in Boston any longer, close to me, but how could I be unhappy? After seeing the last few hours, I know she’s the happiest she’s ever been.

  I raise the glass a little higher. “To you guys, who will always be there for each other. No one could be more perfect together than you both are. Love you.”

  Everyone cheers, and I sit down quickly. Across the table, Jasper gives me another small smile, which I return, and then we’re listening to more toasts.

  Eventually, the music starts and the dance floor fills up. I know the cake will arrive in an hour or so, but I make my way over to the buffet of desserts and pick at brownies and chocolate chip cookies. It’s on the second cookie that I realize are homemade before it dawns on me that these must be the homemade cookies Lila was raving about. The ones made by Jasper’s grandmother.

  “Think they’re good?”

  I take my time turning around because, at this point, I don’t think Jasper could surprise me. Coming face to face, I hand over a cookie. “They’re amazing.”

  He’s still wearing that small smile he gave me earlier, and something inside my chest feels warm. He says, “I’ve always thought so.”

  “Think we should steal
some for Lila?”

  One of those eyebrows raises. “Think you’d be able to steal your mother’s car again?”

  “Depends. Did you tell Carlisle about my awful driving skills?”

  Jasper shrugs, and it’s only a little sheepish.

  I almost laugh, but I can’t. No matter how much I want to try and salvage whatever is happening between me and Jasper, and no matter how much his new portrait of me says the same, the fight two days earlier is still a gulf between us. I can’t ignore it.

  I set my plate of desserts down on the buffet table. As I do, I have to glance away, but when I look back to Jasper, his expression has become an open book, and I know he knows what’s coming. He’s apprehensive, maybe even a little nervous. And I think that, for once, we’re both feeling the same emotions.

  But before I say anything, Jasper does first.

  “You were right,” he says. He’s quiet, and although his voice doesn’t carry a lot of emotion, his eyes say enough.

  And I suddenly think, how could I have ever thought his eyes were a dull brown? They’re the opposite. If anything, the chocolate Lindt irises serve as the greatest indicator of what he’s thinking, of all the emotions he’s always feeling.

  “I was right about what?” I ask, just as quiet as he is.

  Jasper breathes in slowly, letting out a long sigh. “That I’ve never apologized to you.”

  I nod because I knew this was coming. I knew, as soon as I unfolded the paper drawing inside that church, that his new portrait of me was his form of an apology. If there’s anything I’ve learned about Jasper over the past week, it’s that he expresses himself through art, whether it’s on paper or through the painting of words said aloud. Not too long ago, he would have—and he did—paint me as a monster. It was an awful thing to do, even if I’d always been awful to him.

  But this new portrait added nothing to what isn’t already there. It’s just me, in my true form. He doesn’t sugarcoat it or detract from it. It’s reality.

  It’s his way of saying he’s sorry.

  I take a step forward. “I forgive you, Jasper.”

 

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