by Debbie Civil
Chapter 19
Jake
Jill sits on the couch, a carton of rocky road ice cream balanced on her knee. We decided on watching a movie while pigging out. She’s indulging in something sweet while I eat a bowl of vanilla yogurt with some granola. This isn’t so bad. At least with Jill in the apartment, it doesn’t seem so empty.
“Do you want some?” Jill asks, holding out her spoon.
“No.” It isn’t lost on me that I don’t bother offering her some yogurt. The act just seems so personal and reminds me of how I fed Carmen a broccoli bite at Murphy’s steak house. Carmen. What is she doing right now? She’s probably snooping on someone. It still fathom’s me that people are so interesting to her. What would she think of Jill? Would Carmen watch her like a hawk? Eli has extended an invitation for her to come to the wedding next weekend. But I haven’t asked Jill yet.
“What are you thinking about?” Jill asks. We are supposed to be watching “Vampires Sucks”, which seems to be a spoof movie of some of the major vampire films. Because she wants to speak, I pause the movie.
“My… Eliza Philips wanted me to ask you if you wanted to go to her wedding with me.” Jill frowns and her brilliant blue eyes cloud over before she speaks.
“That doesn’t sound like you are asking,” she points out. Of course, it doesn’t sound that way. If I had my way, Carmen would be the girl in Jill’s place. But I can’t have my way, so I might as well make the best of things. The girl isn’t so bad. At least she’s clean. Well, sort of. She’s eating ice cream right out of the carton, which means that I’ll have to throw it away after she leaves. What a waste.
“Do you want me to ask?” Now this is a stalling tactic. Like I said, I’m not Mr. Romantic.
“Maybe.” Why? For the last four hours we’ve eaten takeout, watched “A walk to remember” and half of the vampire parody. We haven’t spoken much. The girl knows squat about me and barely knows Eli. What would possess her to want to go to this wedding?
“Do you want to go to the wedding with me?”
“Am I your date?” she asks. So she can’t read between the lines? This sucks, she’ll require me to talk more.
“Sure.”
“You don’t seem happy about it.” Suddenly, her teasing, which is probably flirting judging by the seductive smile on her face, causes an awkward silence between us. I have no idea how to remedy this. And hell, my Uncle’s campaign demands that this works I lean down and gently brush my lips against hers. She sighs in approval. “That proves that you want me to go. And Jacob Jones, I would be honored to be your date.” August, the name is august. But, Jill hasn’t earned that privilege yet. She’s too wrong. Because we don’t have anything else to say, I play the movie and continue eating the yogurt. When the movie ends, someone rings my buzzer. Mom had stopped by before Jill had come here. Was Dad checking in? All of this baby sitting is starting to get on my nerves. With reluctance, I press the intercom.
“Who is it?” The silence sends nothing but aggravation through me. I back away from the panel and turn around to discover that Jill is standing there. She’s making me feel cornered which is foolish considering that I’m a good foot taller than her. But the feeling can’t be helped. To distract myself, I reach out and play with a loose strand of her strawberry blonde hair. The texture isn’t as soft as it looks due to the large amount of hair gel. My hand feels greasy, and the urge to release my hold on the strands and grab for a napkin is strong.
“Who is it?” Asking stupid questions is a major turn off to some guys, and I’m one of them. I drop my hold on her hair like it’s a hot potato and make my way into the kitchen. The sounds of her high heels clicking against the marble floor is too loud. Her shoes are going to scratch the perfect wood. Why didn’t she pack a pair of flip-flops to walk in? If she had worn sneakers, maybe she could walk around in her socks. Forget about grabbing for a napkin in the napkin holder in the middle of the oak table. I wash my hands in the sink and groan. The hair jell filled water has just touched the bottom of the sink, where my dishes lie. Now… I can’t help it. The urge to clean just overwhelms me. “Jake, can’t you do that later?” Jill purrs as I scrub the sink with a dish towel. That question is just as stupid as the first one she asked, and therefore doesn’t need a response. When the sink is clean, the dish towel is tossed in a bucket under the sink. These towels will be cleaned later. “Jake, do you have any beer?” Nope. Beer isn’t a practical drink of choice so indulging in it is… Jake, stop it. You’re being a tool, think about something else. I slowly turn around and breathe in and out.
“I don’t have any beer here,” is the response. Jill crosses her arms over her chest.
“Jake, you don’t have to be like that. I understand that everyone thinks as me as America’s Darling, but you should understand that I’m just like everyone else. I drink and eat just like you guys. I…”
“I don’t like mindless chatter.” The words just come out, and I expect a slap to land on my cheeks. Instead, Jill smiles with interest as she walks closer, her heels clicking on the floor, the overwhelming scent of vanilla getting closer. Her eyes are focused on mine, and the intensity causes excitement to rush through my veins. This is reckless. For once, I can have someone without baring all of my scars. She steps closer to me and tilts up her head.
“It’s okay Jake. We don’t have to talk anymore,” she whispers. And that’s when I have the thought of Carmen. The two women are so different. Carmen would have taken my comment as the insult that it was meant to be. Jill, on the other hand, thinks that I’m flirting. This isn’t right. No one deserves to be kissed by someone whose mind is straying. Jill’s beautiful, kind, and at times easy-going, but she isn’t what I’m thinking about. If I kiss Jill, I’ll end up being just like Adriana Wilson. That thought fills my gut with led. No way can I ever be like her. She played with feelings, stole hearts, and in the end abandoned people for someone better. I’m not like her. I’ll establish ground rules. She presses up against me and covers the back of my neck with her soft hands. She’s about to draw my face down to hers when I say, “Wait. We need to talk.”
“I thought that you aren’t into meaningless conversations,” she teases.
“We aren’t together,” I tell her. “If you kiss me, it means nothing. I’m not interested in a long-term commitment with you.” She steps back as if burned. For a moment, hurt fills her eyes, and I don’t feel overly bad about it. She needs to know what the situation really is. Who knows what Uncle James had told Governor Mace?
“So you don’t want to be with me?”
“I don’t know you,” I point out. She smiles at the response and sighs.
“Okay, I totally understand. You want to keep things casual between us. You want to go to a few important events, take me to a wedding, and hang out a bit. We will have a fun time together. Neither of us will get attached. Is that about right?”
“Yes.” This suddenly feels like one giant waste of time. She isn’t the one that I’m interested in. Uncle James better win this campaign.
“Sounds like a deal,” I tell Jill. She smiles before brushing a kiss on my cheek. The feel of her lips on my skin does nothing for me. She might as well be a random stranger. But I smile at her anyways.
Jill clearly wants a reason to leave. She purposefully looks at the clock on the oven and exclaims. She thinks that time’s gotten away from us. Maybe it’s gotten away from her; but I have noticed the passage of every second.
“I guess I should go, Jake,” Jill rushes out as she rushes toward the living room. There is no sense in following her when she’s only going to walk over this way. Besides, I’m afraid that following her would encourage conversation, which is the last thing that needs to happen. The overwhelming urge to call Carmen is killing me. What is she doing? Who is she with? Is everyone taking care of her? Maybe I should just explain the whole thing to Carmen. Maybe, she’ll understand. That’s exactly what I’m going to do. I will tell Carmen about my father’s pr
oposition but tell her not to wait for me. She needs to be happy and who knows when this madness is going to end. Jill flies into the kitchen, her heels pounding even harder. Her iPhone is pressed to her ear, and her face is pale. She picked up the phone? When was that? I must have been in my head. After Jill ends the call, she looks up at me with horror on her face.
“The paparazzi is here.” Those words tell me that Carmen will find out and calling her is out of the question because she won’t believe any explanation that she’s given. And that’s all my fault.
