The Jasmine Project

by Meredith Ireland

  Once we’re done eating, we argue over the bill, but in the end Paul pays and we walk out together. After Burrito Fridays we’d usually get into his car and go park and make out somewhere, but I take my keys out of my purse. I’m leaving alone.

  We stop outside in the muggy heat. His BMW is to one side of the parking lot and the Rolla is on the other.

  “Well, thank you for lunch,” I say.

  “I want you back, Jaz,” he says. He looks sincere—more than he did even a few minutes ago. “She didn’t mean anything.”

  I barely suppress a laugh at how he’s trying to downplay this. “Well, she meant a lot to me.”

  We stand in silence as I stare at him, squinting in the sun. Normally, I would’ve looked away, but not now. Not on this.

  I take a half step away.

  “You once said you couldn’t live without me,” he says. “Didn’t you mean that?”

  My breath catches. That day feels like it was yesterday, even though it was a year and a half ago. My mother called to tell me Paul had been in a car accident with his dad. I didn’t know how serious it was at the time, and I rushed to the hospital to find him with his head bandaged. I’d later find out it was a concussion and a few stitches, but I sat by his side and told him I couldn’t live without him.

  I hadn’t thought he’d heard me. And he’d never mentioned it since.

  “I don’t know what to say, Paul.” I shake my head as the rest of my words leave me. “I just need more time to think.”

  I turn to go to my car. I know in my bones that if I stay out here, I’ll give in. And I don’t think that’s a good idea.

  “Wait, Jaz. I wanted to give you this,” he says.

  He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a key chain. I recognize it immediately. I bought it for him in sophomore year. He had to go on a long cruise with his family and didn’t want to leave. So I bought him a Florida-shaped key chain that said “Jasmine” so he could take a piece of Florida with him. It was twelve dollars plus tax, and that amount of money was a lot to me. Like Davey now, I was on a small allowance to cover food at school and some random things if I saved up.

  Paul, who’s never had a job, had taken the key chain and said thank you, but I hadn’t seen it since. I assumed he’d lost it.

  “I thought maybe you’d want to have this back,” he says.

  He hands it to me and the faux gold plating is worn, which is weird. He never had it on his BMW or house keys—I’d looked.

  I knit my eyebrows, turning it over in my palm.

  “I used to… I used to keep it in my pocket for good luck,” he says, looking at the sidewalk.

  I had no idea. I didn’t think he cared about anything I gave him. I could never afford flashy presents the way he could. My Fendi purse, noise-canceling headphones, and sapphire earrings I find too fancy to wear were all from him. I gave him things I made or that meant something to me. I hoped they would mean something to him, too, though I always doubted it.

  But he has everything and valued a cheap key chain? What does it mean that he would be sentimental? And never once told me? The same way I didn’t know he’d heard me in the hospital. How many secrets can fit inside one relationship? How many things can go unsaid?

  I think for a second that he’s lying, but the key chain is worn and not scratched. The only way it would look like this would be from someone gripping it in their palm over and over again.

  “You really kept it for luck?” I ask.

  “Yeah. I don’t think it worked today, though,” Paul adds with a sad smile.

  My foolish heart reaches for him, wants to call off this whole time apart. I manage to stop myself, though.

  “You… never told me,” I say.

  He puts his hands in his pockets and shrugs. “It would’ve sounded… I dunno. But that cruise with my parents wound up being one of our only good trips, and the key chain was a reminder of it and you. Then once I was back, I don’t know, having it made tests easier—I’d remember your tips and something about rubbing it for luck seemed to work.”

  He’s always been superstitious. Especially when it involved football. But all sports players seem superstitious. June, Justin Michael, and Aaron all have set, unbreakable game routines.

  “You should keep it,” I say. “I gave it to you.”

  I extend my hand. He reaches out and closes his fingers around mine.

  “I know,” he says. “But you should have it. I don’t need more reminders of what I’m missing.”

  He sounds so sorry. He definitely wasn’t on Burrito Friday, and even at lunch he wasn’t truly apologetic, but now he is and it breaks my heart in a new way. I want to say, “Let’s just be together,” but once again the words refuse to leave my lips.

  “We… um… we can still talk,” I say.

  He nods. “I’d like that. So you’ll answer me if I text you?”

  “Yes. But I have to go.”

  Truth is, I can’t stand here another minute with so many questions and emotions swirling in my mind. It feels like I’ll drown in them.

  “Okay, Jaz. I’ll see you soon.” He kisses me on the cheek, and this time it isn’t awkward. This time old feelings reconnect.

  I walk to my car and haven’t even started the engine when I grab my phone. I ignore the text from Eugene. Instead, I message Emily and June that I need to talk to them stat.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Emily responds immediately. She helps out at Macrebelle’s, a clothing boutique owned by her mom’s friend, where socks cost, like, $45, but she was finishing up when I texted.

  I meet her in the store parking lot and hop into her white Mercedes. She’s already behind the wheel with the AC and music blasting.

  “So The Paul is back, huh?” she says, lowering the volume of the rock station.

  Emily started calling him “The Paul” in junior year. I was upset one night because he went to a party without me, and she said, “He thinks he’s the shit when he’s really just… The Paul.” And she and I laughed until we cried. It stuck.

  I buckle my seat belt. “I… no… I don’t know. I met him for lunch and I was fine, I swear, right up until he gave me this. Do you remember when I got this for him?”

  I show her the key chain.

  “Yes,” she says. She lowers her old-school aviators to look me in the eyes. “Loser.”

  I scrunch my nose at her.

  “So he wanted to end this grand experiment?” she says.

  “Yeah.”

  “Hmmph,” Emily says, before throwing the car into reverse.

  All the swirling emotions of lunch made me forget about Emily’s driving. Let’s put it this way: if I could wear a crash helmet, I would.

  I grip the armrest as she peels out of the parking lot and cuts off oncoming traffic. We’re meeting June at the Winter Park Club, where she teaches tennis. Emily’s a club member and has a parking decal. That’s the only reason she’s driving right now.

  I do a little sign of the cross as we blaze through a solidly yellow and possibly red-tinged light. I wish I had my Saint Christopher’s medallion, but it’s in the Rolla.

  “So, tell me what happened… or do you want to wait until we have the angels together?” she says.

  Yeah, she means Charlie’s Angels because we’re such losers.

  “Let’s wait until we have Junie,” I say.

  “Okay, text her and let her know we’ll be at the clubhouse in ten.”

  I pull my phone out and unlock it. There’s a red notification, and I remember that I never read Eugene’s text.

  Captain Eugene Crunch

  So I finally have a day off tomorrow. It was supposed to be today but there’s a staff event. Are you free Tuesday or will you still be waiting around for your cereal to marinate?

  I laugh and it draws Emily’s eye. I point to the windshield for her to focus on the road and fire off a quick text to June.

  “Uh-oh. I know that smile. Who’s texting you? Is it The Paul? I real
ly hope it’s not The Paul. Because, Jaz… what he did wasn’t right.” She frowns.

  “I know,” I say. “It’s not Paul.”

  “Oooooh. Then whoooo?” she says. “I can’t wait to hear which one of the bachelors is making you smile like that.”

  She’s taken to calling my newfound boy attention “the bachelors.” It’s obnoxious, but I know what she means. It’s almost like that show Cari is obsessed with—where a bunch of dudes try to date the same girl.

  But I’m not dating anyone. Not really.

  Emily does a gossip shimmy as we pull up to the sprawling grounds of WPC. WPC is a standard, fancy country club, and most of Winter Park society belongs. Needless to say, my parents aren’t members. Neither are June’s, but Emily’s dad got her a job here.

  June has a lot of downtime between lessons on these hot summer afternoons, and that’s why she meets us a few minutes after we sit down in the lounge. A couple of old guys turn and stare. It’s gross, but she takes it in stride and starts greeting them by name.

  “Hello, Mr. Preston. Good afternoon, Mr. Johannsson,” she says.

  The gawking stops as they remember she knows them… and their wives… and their grandchildren.

  June Bug crashes into an armchair across from us and crosses her long legs. Sometimes people think we’re related because we’re both East Asian, but really, we look nothing alike.

  “So, The Paul is back, huh?” She wrinkles her nose like there’s a bad smell in this beautiful room.

  Now would be a good time to mention that my friends don’t like Paul. Emily tolerates him. June tried in the beginning, but by senior year she’d find any excuse to disappear if he was going to be around. And by senior year, I understood.

  It’s not that their opinions didn’t matter, but I always thought they didn’t know him the way I did. And maybe that’s true, but honestly, now I’m not sure.

  “The Paul isn’t back.… I don’t know,” I say. “I really was just going to hear him out, but then he gave me the key chain. He held on to it this entire time. And he remembers when I told him I couldn’t live without him. I think maybe he’s changed. Or maybe we just didn’t share enough of our feelings.”

  June and Emily exchange looks.

  “You know I’m in no place to judge you,” Emily begins. “I took Shawn back too many times. But… why would you take Paul back after everything he put you through?”

  “I… I said we’d talk. Nothing else.”

  June frowns. “You have much better options now. You shouldn’t let Paul mess with your head.”

  “I don’t have options,” I say.

  June sighs at me. “Justin Michael is back. Aaron is taking you to the batting cages this week—”

  “They just want to be friends,” I interrupt.

  Emily rolls her eyes so hard, I’m surprised they don’t fall out of her head.

  June blinks like she’s looking for strength behind her lids. “You had that amazing dinner with Eugene, and although he hasn’t texted, I’m sure he will.”

  Eugene is the one I can’t deny. There’s just something with him. It’s not friendship. And it confuses me because he seems to like me but then… doesn’t. And I maybe like him too, but how could that be when there’s Paul? Not to mention that Eugene and I are so different. But I can’t deny how good it felt to hear from him.

  “Um, actually, he texted earlier today,” I say.

  “I knew it!” Emily does a circular motion with her fists. “I knew it. She got this look on her face when she checked her phone, and I knew it was him.”

  “Who knows if he actually likes me,” I say.

  One of the clubhouse staff drops off lemon ice water for us. Emily and June both say hi. When he leaves, we fall into awkward silence.

  Emily looks at June. “We still have to drag her along even with everything. It’s like she’s purposely ignoring what’s in front of her face. I cannot.”

  “You know how Jaz is.” June shrugs.

  I tap my chest. “Hey, by the way, I can hear you. I didn’t disappear.” I wave my arms around to make sure they can still see me.

  Emily gestures with her hand out and June nods. It’s like they rehearsed this.

  “The bachelors want to date you,” Emily says. “It’s why they’re in the… it’s why they’re hanging out with you.”

  I shake my head. Okay, I’ve thought that, but what are the chances of three boys wanting to date me in one summer? Paul liked to point out that he was the only one who ever asked me out. I was never sure if he meant no one else would want me or if we were meant to be. I never wanted to ask.

  “You don’t know that,” I say. “Justin Michael is in town for an internship and we’re old friends. Aaron just wants to get to know people in Orlando. And Eugene… well, he leaves for Europe soon, so what could that even be?”

  Emily glances over at June again. June gives an almost imperceptible shake of her head.

  “Okay, what? This is bugging me,” I say. “What’s with the looks?”

  June folds her hands on her lap. “You know Justin asked you out years ago. Those feelings don’t just disappear, and you’ve said Aaron makes you feel special and that there’s something about Eugene.”

  “It doesn’t mean that they like me though.”

  “Okay.” Emily places her water glass on the table. “What’s with this low self-esteem pity party?”

  “Oh, so it’s a tough-love day, huh?” I say. I try to joke, but her words sink their claws into me. “I… I don’t have… I’m just realistic.”

  “You’re not though,” Emily says. “You think guys who obviously like you can’t because Paul fed right into your self-doubt to keep you with him. Because you don’t think you’re as good as your sister. Because some asshole in middle school was a jerk to you. And I don’t know… just how you naturally are. But it’s some bullshit.”

  Emily sits back and June widens her eyes and looks at her. Emily closes her mouth and purses her lips like she didn’t intend to say all or maybe any of that.

  Emily doesn’t understand. She didn’t go to middle school with us. She wasn’t there when one of the popular girls, Morgan Weller, told me that the most popular boy, Kyle McGovern, had a crush on me. She wasn’t there for the whispers by the lockers and how all of a sudden I was interesting to everyone. She wasn’t there for my shy waves at Kyle and for his winks and smiles at me. And for the thrill that ran through me from someone noticing me. And how I tried out Jasmine McGovern because… well, I was in eighth grade.

  Emily wasn’t in our school when I finally worked up the nerve to talk to Kyle at lunch. How he was sitting at the table with Morgan and all the coolest kids in our year. How they moved aside so I could be next to him. How amazing it felt to be welcome by people who really had never paid attention to me.

  Neither Emily nor June were there when they invited me to hang out with them at a bonfire that night. They weren’t there as I watched Kyle smiling and talking as I sat next to him. They didn’t pass around a bottle of stolen rum and watch me work up the liquid courage to try to kiss him. They didn’t see him back away in disgust. They didn’t hear the giggles from the group. They didn’t hear him say “ew.” They didn’t see my confusion as I looked to Morgan, who stared blankly at me. They didn’t see Kyle’s face when I said, “I thought you liked me.” They didn’t feel his sneer as he said, “Not you. Never you.” They didn’t hear his laugh when he said, “Morgan, when I said I liked Yap, I meant Carissa, not her ugly little sister.”

  They didn’t see the tears in my eyes as I ran away. Or how I hid for a while to cry. Or how I walked all the way home alone, trying to shake off the shame of what would’ve been my first kiss.

  But then Paul came along and saw me and loved me. For me.

  “We’re way off topic,” June says. “What are you going to do about The Paul?”

  “I said we could talk, but that we won’t make any decisions before August first, like we agreed to,” I s
ay.

  Emily stares at me without blinking, and June sighs.

  “You’re going to ruin the whole—” Emily begins. June’s head whips toward her. Emily exhales loudly. “You’re going to ruin your chance to find someone, something, better.”

  “You guys don’t think it meant something that he kept the key chain? Like he felt a lot more than he could say? You know his parents aren’t loving to him and it’s hard for him to love.”

  Both June and Emily look at me like: Do you even hear yourself right now? And, yes, I hear myself, but he surprised me.

  “Throw it out,” Emily says.

  “What? No.” I clutch it closer to my chest.

  “He gave it back to you so you’d think about him,” she says. “So he’d ruin how you felt about seeing other people, even if you’re ‘just talking.’ ”

  Emily uses some hostile-ass air bunnies.

  “No, I can’t throw it away,” I say. “It has… memories.”

  Emily gestures over to June and says, “Welp.”

  “Maybe I should hold on to that,” June says.

  “Why?” I ask.

  “Because…” June draws a long breath. “Because you’ll start thinking he wasn’t that bad because he kept one thing you gave him, and, Jaz… he was that bad. Especially this past year. You want to think the best of people. You always do, but in this case, it’s just a key chain. And Emily’s right—it’ll ruin how you feel about anyone other than him. It’s manipulative.”

  She gracefully extends her arm and waits with her palm open.

  I clasp it tighter, but that reaction tells me she’s right. He knows me and what will hit deepest, and I’ve never been able to see when he’s being manipulative. I always think of people as being sincere.

  I’m pretty sure I’ve been good cop/bad copped, but I drop the key chain in June’s hand. She puts it into the pocket of her tennis dress, then stands.

  “I didn’t think this would turn into a full-on intervention,” I mutter, crossing my arms.

  “We intervene out of love,” June says. She kisses my forehead. “You can sulk if you want, but I need to get back to the courts.”