Black Tangled Heart

by Samantha Young

  “One day, you will.” It was out of my mouth before I could stop it. A promise. A conviction. “Why is your name Jane Doe?”

  “Dad’s mom didn’t want me, even though she was my next of kin. Willa thinks my parents had to have left everything, including me, to my adoptive grandmother. That she didn’t abide by their wishes. I found out about the adoption when they died. My dad’s mom didn’t even want me to have my dad’s name. Social Services didn’t want a fight about it, and I was only seven. My name was legally reverted to Jane Doe and I went back into the system.”

  Jesus Fucking Christ. “I’m sorry.”

  She nodded, the crest of her cheeks red. “I told you so you’d know you’re not alone, Jamie. I think we walk through the halls at high school thinking no one can understand the crap we’ve been through, but almost everyone has a secret. A pain they don’t talk about.”

  My throat closed with an emotion that hit me like I’d run into a wall. My heart hammered too hard in my chest, and I felt a kernel of shame in my chest. I’d been a dick to Skye for a year. Sometimes my anger and resentment still made me act out. And I dismissed girls. Impatient with them if they started pretending like I hadn’t laid it out at the beginning that I didn’t want to date. I got good grades, but I could be mouthy with teachers. And there were times I itched for a fight.

  All that came from the same place.

  And here was little Jane Doe, grieving for a life she should have had, and treating everyone with patience and kindness and respect.

  I was, in that moment, being schooled by a freshman.

  Seeing my struggle, Jane gave me a sweet smile. A dimple I’d never noticed before appeared in her left cheek. It was cute. I felt an unexpected twist in my gut.

  Fuck.

  I looked away, mentally reminding myself that not only was she a freshman, she was my little sister’s best friend.

  “Let’s pick up the pace,” I said, my voice flat. I didn’t know what to say to her. “I’ve got shit to do.”

  The words made her blush, and I cursed myself for being a prick.

  She remained silent the rest of the way to the apartment complex.

  More than a few times, I had to stop myself from asking her something else about herself. I was interested in what Jane had to say. I wanted to hear her opinion on books and music … and stuff.

  It bugged me that she didn’t say goodbye as she hurried upstairs to the Greens’ apartment. It worried me that I might have hurt her feelings after she’d told me her secret. I cursed myself all the way back to the house, wishing I’d said something different.

  Maybe even hugged her.

  Shit. That wouldn’t do. That wouldn’t do at all. Jane was off-limits. She was just a kid. Those big, soulful eyes or the mature way she talked shouldn’t fool me—or the impression she’d left on me with her sad tale.

  Maybe Lorna and Jane’s friendship was over, and I wouldn’t have to see her again, anyway.

  That hope deflated when I stepped into the house and saw Lorna sitting on the couch, her phone pressed to her ear. “No, it was my fault. I’m so sorry, Jane. I was such a bitch. You don’t have to go to the party. I just don’t want you to be mad if I do.”

  As tired as I was of her little drama tonight, I softened toward my sister when I heard her apology. Maybe Skye was right, and Jane was a good influence on Lorna. I ruffled Lorna’s hair as I passed her to get a drink from the kitchen, and she looked up at me with such hero worship in her eyes, I felt a stab of guilt.

  I should probably try to be a better big brother.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Bethany.

  Yeah, I’m free tomorrow. My parents are out and the pool house is empty. Xxxx

  My Sunday and Monday were looking up. Despite being cock-blocked by having to babysit Lorna, the turn of events appeased me.

  “What do you want to order for takeout?” I asked my little sister as she got off the phone.

  Her eyes lit up. “I get to choose?”

  “You do.”

  She bounced off the sofa. “Is this to make up for choosing Jane over me tonight?”

  All good feeling left me.

  See, that was the crap that made me mad at her. “I didn’t choose Jane. I don’t choose sides in your petty little friendship dramas. She’s fourteen, and I wasn’t going to let her walk home alone. End of story.”

  “But you left me alone in the house.” Lorna crossed her arms over her chest and glared at me.

  I looked at her and saw my mother. When I was a kid, Mom had me in knots with that crap—making me feel like no matter what I did, I didn’t love her enough—until I got a little older and knew better. It was exhausting. “Fine,” I snapped, pressing speed dial on my cell. “We’re getting pizza.”

  “Jamie!”

  I ignored her whining and ordered what the fuck I wanted to order, my mood officially obliterated.

  But that night as I laid in bed, I heard Jane’s voice in my head.

  I think we walk through the halls at high school thinking no one can understand the crap we’ve been through … but almost everyone has a secret. A pain they don’t talk about.

  It was a simple but loaded moment. Wise words that would stay with me. They’d make me look beyond myself. Those words would make me a better writer … but more, they would make me a better person.

  As I laid there in the silence, I let her words truly sink in. I stopped being so fucking angry at the world that night because I realized there were people out there who’d been through worse shit than me.

  I stopped feeling so goddamn alone.

  Because of her.

  3

  Two years later

  JANE

  Sixteen years old

  As hurt flared in terrible heat in my chest, I realized I wasn’t mad that Christopher Cruz had made out with Lorna over me.

  It hurt me that Lorna deliberately went after Chris because she knew I had a crush on him.

  The rules she’d made up when we were thirteen had been broken so many times, I’d lost count.

  I wasn’t stupid. I knew our friendship was partly beautiful, partly toxic. Fifty percent toxic was enough that I should’ve wiped my hands clean of her. Truthfully, I didn’t want to sever our friendship because there were moments when Lorna was sweet and supportive and fiercely protective of me. And I stuck around because I loved Skye like a big sister, and my feelings for her brother Jamie had grown to epic levels. Their three-bedroom house in Glendale had become like a second home to me. If I broke off my friendship with Lorna, I’d lose her brother and sister too.

  Not that Jamie and I had much of a relationship.

  I loved him from afar.

  But Skye … I just loved her.

  I was the one nine months ago who forced Jamie to confront Skye when I noticed she was drinking too much. She seemed so sad. Jamie talked to her, and she admitted she was partying too hard. Part of the lifestyle. After their talk, she stopped the parties and drinking. Instead, she worked all the time.

  Still, having just a little of Skye’s sunshine in my life was better than nothing at all.

  And I lived for my weekly glimpses of Jamie and our casual interactions.

  He was eighteen now, more beautiful than ever, and to my relief, he hadn’t left for some far-off college. Jamie won a track-and-field scholarship to the University of Southern California and was in his freshman year there. To Lorna’s dismay, he was majoring in English, which was a travesty to her because, as she said, “He will be an impoverished writer for the rest of his life.”

  To my delight, Jamie was staying at home to save money, which meant I still got to see him.

  I just dreaded the day he met and fell in love with a smart, sexy college girl.

  Jamie would never see me as anything but his little sister’s annoyingly shy best friend. Sometimes I still felt pangs of mortification when I remembered I’d told him I’d been adopted. Not even Lorna knew that. And Jamie had reacted with impati
ence after I’d offered my secret. The painful moment still made me question my feelings for him. As did his moods. Sometimes he was funny and easy to talk to; other times, he could be kind of a dick.

  In fact, it was only about a month ago that Lorna had left me hanging out by their pool to take a call with some college guy she’d met at the mall. I was drying off on a lounger, enjoying the break from school when a shadow fell over me.

  Opening my eyes, I found Jamie glaring down at me.

  “What are you wearing?”

  Confused, I glanced down at the string bikini. “Uh …”

  “Nothing. The answer is nothing. Get back in the house and put something on.”

  At his high-handedness, my annoyance surged. Frowning, I stood, and he stepped back quickly, as if afraid I was about to bite him. “I’m wearing a bikini,” I replied. As angry as I ever got, I didn’t like shouting. I didn’t see the point in people screaming in each other’s faces. Lorna did enough yelling for the both of us. “I borrowed it from your sister.”

  His eyes flickered downward to my breasts and then quickly away. A muscle ticked in his jaw as he refused to look at me. “Yeah, well, she’s smaller. That bikini doesn’t fit you, and it’s obscene. Go change.”

  Was he calling me fat?

  My cheeks burned, but I stood my ground. “You’re being ridiculous.”

  Jamie’s head whipped around. That brooding gaze slightly intimidated me, but I kept my chin up. “I’m what?” His tone was edgy. I knew it well. It was his soft, dangerous tone before he exploded.

  I shivered a little. “You’re being ridiculous,” I repeated patiently. “Jamie, you’re not my brother. You can’t tell me what to wear or where to wear it. And to be honest, you shouldn’t be telling any woman, sister or not, what she should or shouldn’t wear. It pushes women’s lib back a few decades, and I didn’t think you were that kind of guy.”

  With a shrug of disappointment, I brushed past him and made my way into the house. I was proud of myself. Usually, Jamie flustered me beyond reason. Apparently, the key was for him to irritate me enough for me to become my normal, articulate self around him.

  He refused to speak to me at dinner that night, and I’d questioned my feelings for him. Shouldn’t I think about dating someone who liked me in return? Who didn’t give me emotional whiplash?

  Thus began my crush hunt.

  I’d decided on Christopher Cruz. He straddled the social circles at school nicely. He was a surfer. Chilled out, nice to everyone, and California cute with sun-bleached hair and a crooked, sexy smile.

  After making my selection, I did what all best friends do—I told Lorna. During the subsequent four weeks, she’d plotted happily to get Chris to notice me. The party at his parents’ Malibu beach house was supposed to be the culmination of all the hours I’d spent at school getting to know him better.

  Yet there was my supposed best friend, making out with my supposed crush by his parents’ pool.

  The twisted thing was, I didn’t think Lorna was doing it because she didn’t want me to have a cute boyfriend. Lorna was doing it because she didn’t want me to have anyone but her.

  My best friend was always complaining that Jamie loved Skye more than he loved her. That their mom had loved Jamie and Skye more than she’d loved Lorna. That her dad hated her, but he adored Jamie and even put up with Skye. And that I loved Skye more than I loved my best friend.

  In Lorna’s messed-up heart, everyone always loved someone better than they’d ever love her.

  I was hers.

  No one else’s.

  That was her point.

  Her point reeked. I resented her and her jealous possessiveness.

  Turning away from the pool where she was thrusting her tongue into Chris’s mouth, I pushed through the crowd of high schoolers and made my way to the front door.

  Malibu was over an hour from Glendale, and Lorna was my ride. She’d gotten her license six weeks ago. So had I. I just couldn’t afford a car.

  Cursing her under my breath as I stepped outside, I pulled my phone out of the pocket of my shorts and glared at my phone screen. If I called Willa to come pick me up, she’d have a shit fit. There was no way I was supposed to be at a party in Malibu where underage drinking was going on.

  There was only one person I could call, and Lorna would be so mad at me.

  I decided I didn’t care.

  Skye picked up after five rings. “Hey, sweetie, can I call you—” She broke off into laughter and shushed someone. “Sorry, Jane, I’m kind of busy. Can I call you back?”

  “Skye, I’m stuck in Malibu. Lorna is my ride but I want to leave and … she doesn’t.”

  “Give me a second.” There was a moment of silence from her and I could hear the thud of music in the background. After a few seconds, the music dulled. “Okay,” she said, “I’m back. What the hell are you doing at a party in Malibu?”

  “A guy from school threw it. His parents have a beach house. Anyway, I want to go home but Lorna is my ride and …”

  “I’m going to kill her,” Skye huffed. “Okay, text me the address. I’ll be there as soon as possible.” She hung up before I could respond.

  Hands trembling, because I hated making Skye mad, I texted her the address. Five minutes later, she texted me back and my heart fell.

  I can’t drive. I’ve been drinking. Jamie’s in Reseda at a friend’s and is closer. He’s on his way. Tell Lorna I want her ass home. NOW. Xx

  It was Lorna who came to me. She found me at the end of the drive, waiting on Jamie. I stared balefully at her, refusing to engage in an argument about what she’d done.

  She sighed at my expression, jutting out one hip. “I can’t help it if he likes me more.”

  “I couldn’t care less.”

  Lorna flinched and glanced away. She nibbled on her lower lip for a second before turning back to me. “I’m sorry, okay. I should have told you I liked him too.”

  “Yes, you should have. Because you know I would have stepped aside.”

  “Yeah, because you’re so much better than me. We all know that.” She shook her head and heaved a dramatic sigh. “Are you just going to stay out here all night?”

  Dreading her reaction, I wanted to stall but knew I couldn’t. “I called Skye for a ride. She’s sending Jamie. He should be here any minute.”

  As predicted, Lorna exploded, cursing at me and calling me a buzzkill. That I shouldn’t be calling her family for rides when I had foster parents. That I’d deliberately done it to get her in trouble. That I was selfish and manipulative. I stared straight ahead, trying not to let her words sting.

  The idea of being stuck in a car with Jamie for over an hour made me feel slightly nauseated, but I was relieved when he pulled up to the house in his black Ford Mustang.

  He got out of the car, storming toward us, bristling with six foot two inches of aggravation. “Are you kidding me with this shit?” He gestured to the beach house. “Malibu, Lorna? Really?”

  She rolled her eyes. “It’s just a party.”

  “In fucking Malibu. You’re sixteen. Get in the car.” His angry gaze swung to me. “Both of you.”

  “I have my car here, and I haven’t been drinking. I’ll take us home. You can go away.” Lorna shooed him.

  Stuck in a car with Lorna while she berated me for calling Skye, or stuck in the car for an hour while Jamie silently seethed?

  Without saying a word, I strode past them both and rounded the hood of Jamie’s Mustang. I yanked open the passenger-side door and got in.

  Jamie’s voice carried down the drive. “Get in your car—I better see you following us all the way home.”

  “Would you even care about this whole situation if precious Jane wasn’t here?”

  I stiffened. Why did she have to do that all the time?

  “Lorna”—there was an unyielding quality to his tone—“if you don’t want to push everyone in your life away like Mom did, you’ll cut that crap out. Now get in your car
and follow us home.”

  I tensed as Jamie marched back to the Mustang. The car lowered with his weight as he got in and slammed the door. His jaw locked as he watched Lorna stomp like a five-year-old down the street to her Mini Cooper. As soon as she was in it, he swung a U-turn and took off.

  Every muscle in my body was taut with the tension radiating off him, so it was a surprise when he asked if I was okay. He shot me quick, worried looks between watching the road ahead.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Why did you call Skye? Why did you want to leave?”

  Ugh. My reason sounded so pathetic and immature now. “Just because.”

  Jamie sighed. “Jane, what happened?”

  I shrugged. “It’s just girl stuff, okay? It’s fine. I’m sorry your evening got ruined.”

  “I was just hanging at one of the guy’s uncle’s house in Reseda. There wasn’t a lot going on.”

  I nodded and let silence fall between us. He had the rock station on low, so I watched the scenery pass by and tried to forget who I was with and how much I wished he’d notice me more.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket. Frowning, I pulled it out and saw I had a text from Chris. We’d exchanged numbers a week ago.

  Hey, did u leave? Sorry bout Lorna. Dnt know y I did that? Had 2 many beers.

  I frowned at his excuse just as my phone buzzed again.

  Ure gorgeous. Liked u for long time. Not in2 Lorna. Want u. Okay?

  No, not okay. I must have huffed out loud.

  “What’s going on? Who’s texting?” Jamie asked.

  “Just a stupid guy.” I turned my phone over on my lap.

  Jamie didn’t reply right away, so I assumed he was uninterested in my stupid-guy story. I was glad because I didn’t want to tell it.

  “Stupid how?”

  I was pretty sure my eyebrows hit my hairline. I looked at him. He glanced at me, saw my expression, and frowned.

  “What?”

  “You want to know my stupid-guy story?”

  “Considering you are the way you are, and you look the way you do, yet I’ve never seen you with a guy … yeah, I want to know.”