by M. A. Foster
“That’s not possible.”
STANDING IN THE doorway of Alex’s office, I see him typing away on his laptop, looking deep in thought. I knock twice on the open door and Alex raises his head. “Hey, man,” he says, leaning back in his chair and clasping his hands behind his head. “What’s up?”
I don’t know Alex all that well, but he’s always seemed like a pretty cool guy and until recently, I had no idea that he and Jay were so close.
“I’m looking for Jay. Has she been by here?”
A smirk appears. “Yeah, she stopped by earlier.” He looks down at his watch. “She left about fifteen minutes ago. Why?”
“I’m sure you know why,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck.
Alex raises his eyebrows and straightens in his chair. His expression turns serious as he gestures to one of the chairs in front of his desk. “Have a seat, Zach. Let’s talk.”
Dropping down in the chair, I lean forward, propping my forearms on my thighs. He leans forward with his elbows propped on the desk. “I know we don’t know each other all that well, considering how much we have in common, but I’ve heard only good things about you.” He narrows his eyes at me. “I’m also aware of your history with Jay. More than I care to know, but I guess that goes without saying when my girlfriend is her best friend.”
“Jay mentioned that.” I nod, hoping to move on from this uncomfortable conversation. “Good for you, man. Evangeline is a beautiful woman.”
“She is.” He smiles proudly. “So, what’s your endgame here, Zach?”
My eyebrows twist in confusion. “What?”
“Are you just trying to get laid? Screw the rock star’s kid?”
I jerk up from the chair. “Are you serious right now?”
“Take it easy, Zach.” He chuckles. “I had to ask. Consider yourself lucky I’m the one asking and not Eva or Bass. I’m sure you’ve met him by now.”
“Yeah.”
“Eva loves Jay like a sister. They grew up together and Eva is very protective of her. Trust me, you do not want to be on the receiving end when the claws come out. I’ve seen her in action and it’s not pretty.” He drums his fingers on the desk seeming to ponder over his next words. “I’m sure you’re aware that the past year has been rough for Jay and her family. Especially Jay.” He shakes his head. “Marcus was a great guy, practically a saint. Kind, genuine, and a very smart man. I respected the hell out of him. But he was also an overprotective father and he kept his little girl on a very short leash. Jay’s kind-heartedness comes from her core. She’s humble and forgiving. But she’s also clueless which puts her in a vulnerable position and makes her a target for people who have less than genuine intentions. I made a promise to Marcus, and to Eva, that I’d watch out for Jay and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.” He points a finger at me. “Your intentions better be genuine.”
I PULL UP to the intercom at the end of Jay’s driveway and press the Call button.
“Helloooo. May I help you?” Bass’s deep voice drawls.
“Uh… hey, it’s Zach. Is Jayla home?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know anyone by that name. This is where the princess lives.”
I snort. This guy. “Can I speak to her?”
“You tell me. Can you?”
I let out a frustrated sigh and let my head fall back against the headrest. I’m being schooled through an intercom speaker. Taking a deep breath, I try again. “May I speak to her?”
“Enter at your own risk.” His laughter is interrupted by a buzz and the gate slowly swings open.
Shaking my head, I steer my Jeep through the gate and navigate up the driveway, parking in the courtyard in front of the house.
As I make my way up the steps, the front door swings open and Bass’s massive form fills the doorway, wearing a shit-eating grin. “To what do we owe the pleasure, Romeo?” he asks.
Apparently, he’s sticking with Romeo.
“Quit messing with him, Bass,” Emerson calls out before she appears at his side. “She’s in a mood today. Don’t make it worse.”
Jerking her head to the side, Emerson says, “Come on in, Zach.” Stepping inside, I follow her down the hall to a set of double doors. “She’s in here.” Twisting the knob, she pushes open one of the two doors and steps inside. “This is her office.”
Jay’s office is a mixtures of blues and grays with silver accents. It’s feminine and sleek. But it’s the painting over the sofa that catches my attention. The painting is all black and white. It’s a set of eyes, fringed in long, thick, black eyelashes. The only color is the blue-green irises. Jayla’s eyes.
“Marcus painted that,” Emerson tells me. “Every painting or picture in this house is sentimental.”
“Is that rug made from real zebra skin?”
Emerson laughs. “God, no. Jay would flip out.”
The sound of a piano drifts from the adjoining room. Emerson smiles and gestures to the hallway. “That’s her music room.”
As I make my way down the short hallway, I skim over the framed photographs lining the walls. One picture in particular grabs my attention, and I pause to get a closer look. Marcus King has his arms around the shoulders of two little kids. One is Jay, with her long skinny legs, knobby knees and electric blue streaks in her black hair. The other is a skinny kid with shaggy blond hair. Lucas Wild. Jay mentioned briefly that Lucas was like a brother to her. Skimming over the other photos, they’re mostly of Marcus with his band, other musicians or celebrities.
I stop at a framed sheet of paper with black squiggly lines scribbled across the page in what looks like crayon. Emerson moves to my side and lightly brushes her fingers across a little gold plate inscribed with “Jaybird’s First Song.”
“She was barely six years old when she wrote this,” she says, smiling like a proud mom. “You should ask her about it sometime. It’s a cute story.” She winks.
Hmm.
The adjoining music room is much larger than the office but keeping with the same color scheme. The walls are lined with framed gold and platinum records, more photos and framed album covers. On the right is a door with silver letters across the top, spelling out the word Studio. There’s a light above the door and a long two-way mirror strategically placed to the right.
To the left is Jay, sitting in front of a large, shiny, white grand piano, centered in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Her eyes remain closed as her fingers glide over the keys, losing herself in the melody. I like music as much as anyone, but it’s just always been background noise to me. I’ve never paid attention to the lyrics of a song unless it’s a song by one of my favorite bands, but for some reason her words draw my attention. Something about how nobody knows her heart, how she cries when she’s pretending to sleep. It’s beautiful yet sad, and it makes my chest ache.
“She’s amazing, isn’t she,” Emerson says, reminding me that she’s still here. “I’m sure you’ve been warned, but now I’m warning you. She puts on a hell of a front, which is what she’s been taught to do by me. But she’s fragile. She’s my baby girl and she’s all I have left. She cares for you. She always has. I’m asking you nicely to be careful with her heart, Zach.”
“I will,” I promise.
“Thank you.” She lightly pats my arm. “Treat my daughter with respect and make her happy and you’ll always have my support and protection from that big motherfucker out there waiting for you to screw up.” She laughs as she turns around and heads back down the hall. “Good luck,” she calls out from the other end of the hallway.
Shaking my head, I push off the wall and make my way over to Jay. Without looking up or breaking her stride, she slides over to one side of the piano bench, making room for me. It’s an invitation I happily accept by lifting my leg and straddling the bench so I’m facing her. I watch in amazement as her fingers float effortlessly over the piano keys.
The love I felt for her before dulls in comparison to the love I feel for her now that she�
��s mine again. I still can’t believe she’s here.
I never thought it was possible for me to be this happy.
Yet somehow, I keep screwing things up.
Jay stops playing and drops her hands into her lap, then twists to face me.
“Journey?” I ask.
She nods. “‘Faithfully’ was the first song I learned to play on the piano. Journey is one of my mom’s all-time favorite bands.” She looks away and smiles as if she’s remembering.
“My mom is a big Journey fan too. I’m pretty sure I knew the words to every one of their songs when I was little. What about the other song? The one you were playing before. Was that one of yours?”
She snorts. “No, that was Pink. It’s called ‘Nobody Knows.’”
“I liked it.”
She looks away and takes a deep breath before turning back to me. “Thanks,” she says, forcing a smile. It appears I’ve got my work cut out for me. “It’s been a while since I’ve played.”
“Doesn’t sound like it. I can’t believe I’ve known you all these years and never knew you were so talented.”
“Back then you would’ve thought I was being a show-off. I just wanted to have fun like the rest of you.” She shrugs. “So, what are you doing here? Isn’t there a blonde somewhere waiting to suck your face off?”
Again with the sassy mouth.
I drag my hands over my face. “Either I have the worst luck or you have the worst timing.” I shake my head and sigh. “Ever since you got here, it’s been one ‘It’s not what it looks like’ situation after another and I feel like I have to keep explaining myself to you.”
She arches an eyebrow with an “are you kidding me?” look. “I never asked you to explain anything.”
“I didn’t mean it like that, and, of course, I want to explain. We agreed to be honest with each other from now on. Remember?”
“Then tell me about Chelsea.”
So, I do. I tell her how Chelsea and I have known each other our whole lives. I tell her how I confided in Chelsea about St. Thomas and my feelings for Jay. I tell her about how Reagan cheated on me prom night with Grayson, who was dating Lindsay at the time, and that I made a huge mistake by hooking up with Chelsea, which made things awkward and eventually ruined friendship.
“That’s pretty messed up, Zach.”
Great, I’m back to being Zach again.
“I know, Jay. I tried to make things right, but she wouldn’t let me. Friday night was the first time I’ve seen or talked to her since she left for college. She texted me yesterday and wanted to meet up, but I told her I had plans. Then she texted me this morning and asked me to meet her for breakfast. I figured it was the perfect opportunity for us to hash our shit out, so I could move on with you, and not have that guilt hanging over my head.”
“If she’s just a friend, then why didn’t you introduce me to her Friday?”
“Because all she knows is that you hurt me. She’s not the nicest person.” I laugh lightly. “I was afraid she’d confront you and make a scene.”
“I can take care of myself, Zach.”
“I know you can, but I didn’t want her airing out our business in front of everyone,” I explain. “This is between you and me, Jay.”
Jay looks down at her hands for a second, then back up at me. “So, if you’re just friends, why did she kiss you?”
“I have no idea. She’s never done that before.” I shrug. “It’s never been like that with us except for the one time I fucked up. She’s always been like family to me.”
She nods. “Like me and Lucas.”
“Yeah,” I agree, even though I know very little about her relationship with Lucas Wild but there’s no way he could look at this girl every day and not feel something her.
“But I would never have sex with Lucas,” she tells me and shudders at the thought.
I sigh. “Don’t make me feel worse than I already do, Jay. I know I messed up, but it wasn’t just me. It was Chelsea, too. I’m only telling you this because I don’t want any more drama to come between us.”
“Well, I don’t like her, and she’d be wise to keep her hands and her lips off my man.”
I smile, standing from the bench and holding out my hand. “Come on. Let me take you to lunch.”
HERE’S A FUN fact about high school cheerleaders and football players that I did not know. Each cheerleader is assigned a football player—or two—and is responsible for decorating his locker and or making posters displaying the player’s number.
One guess who Zach’s cheerleader is.
Yep. Reagan.
But that’s about to change.
“Jayla, this is Kali,” Lexi says. “She’ll be Zach’s cheerleader from now on.” I know Kali. She sits beside me in first period. Kali is cute. Her auburn hair is in an adorable pixie cut, her face is petite with a small spattering of freckles, and her eyes are golden brown.
“Thank you.” I wrap my arms around Kali and pull her in for a hug. “How’d you pull that off?” I ask Lexi. “Do you have to scrub your wicked stepsister’s toilet for a week?”
Lexi laughs. “Hell, no. Your cousin took care of it.”
“Took care of what?” Zach asks, walking up to his locker.
“Kali is your cheerleader from now on,” I tell him and he smirks. “Unless you’d rather have Reagan.” I raise a questioning brow.
Zach looks down at Kali and grins. “Thanks. You just saved me a whole lot of drama.”
Kali laughs. “No worries.”
ZACH DID THE sweetest thing tonight at the beginning of the game. He found me in the stands, pointed to me, kissed the index and middle fingers of his right hand, and tapped them over his heart. Then he threw up both hands with the universal rocker sign as he jogged backwards onto the field. I swear I felt everyone’s eyes on me. But I didn’t care. I stood up, wearing my new custom designed jersey with Zach’s number “6” on the front and “EASTON” across the back, and blew him a kiss.
After the game, we decided to forego any of the parties and spend a quiet night stuffing our faces with junk food and watching movies.
Wink wink.
LABOR DAY WEEKEND, I invite all my new friends over for my first barbecue get-together and to meet my best friend. “Everyone, this is my best friend, Evangeline and you guys already know Alex. Weenie, this is Brad, Cherry, Lexi, Evan, Olivia, Carter, Harper, Kali, Justin, you know Cole—”
“Unfortunately,” Evangeline teases. Cole responds with a cocky smirk, flipping her off.
I curl my arm around Zach’s waist. “And this is Zach. Zach, this is my sister for life.”
Evangeline looks him up and down, then nods. “I approve.”
Zach laughs and I roll my eyes. “Ignore her. She’s a bitch but once you get to know her, she’s still a bitch.” Everyone laughs.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Evangeline,” Zach says.
“You, too.” She smiles as my friends all stare open-mouthed at her.
“How did you two meet?” Olivia asks.
“Our moms went to college together,” I lie.
“Oh,” she says. “That makes sense how you know Alex.”
I shake my head but Evangeline cuts in.
“Actually, I met Alex through Jay’s cousin, Dylan.”
I’M HAPPIER THAN I’ve ever been in my entire life and it’s all because of my girl. Being in a relationship with Jay is easy because she’s so laid-back about everything, which isn’t something I’m used to. She’s extremely affectionate, but, at the same time she isn’t clingy. She splits her time between lunch with our friends in the dining room and eating in the performing arts building with her Project Mayhem classmates. She’s liked by everyone, except for the bitch squad—Hannah, Ashton, and Reagan. Jealousy being the main factor with all three of them.
Jay doesn’t seem to care one way or the other. She and Lexi have become extremely close, which is not only good for Jay, but for Lexi, too. The two of them have formed their own s
ocial circle with Harper, Cherry, Olivia, and Kali. Jay is a good judge of character and seems to surround herself with people she trusts while keeping everyone else at arm’s length, but still approachable. She laughs at Brad’s goofy jokes, which I think is good for his ego. And she set him up with Cherry. I hadn’t realized how deeply Brad had been hurt by Hannah because he’s good at hiding his feelings behind his sense of humor.
“I DIDN’T KNOW the Pussycat Dolls reunited,” Hannah says and Ashton laughs out loud, prompting all of us to turn our heads to see Jay, Harper, Lexi, Kali, Cherry, and Olivia walking toward our table.
I laugh under my breath because they do look like the Pussycat Dolls, but way hotter. However, Hannah’s jab wasn’t meant to be funny; she’s being a bitch as usual.
“Hey, Z,” Jay says as she and the girls squeeze in at our table.
“Last time I checked, this table is for the athletes, not a bunch of music nerds,” Hannah barks out, curling her lip.
“Wow,” Jay says, arching a brow.
“Shut up, Hannah,” Brad says, then turns his gaze on Cherry and wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “Music nerds are hot.”
“I’ve got a better idea,” Cole says standing from the table with his tray in his hand.
“Where are you going?” Ashton whines.
Ignoring Ashton, Cole takes his tray and moves to a different table. The rest of us follow, leaving Ashton, Hannah, and Piper at the table with the rest of the athletes.
“WHAT ARE YOU reading?” I ask, shoving my text book into my backpack. Every day, except Wednesdays and Fridays, after football practice, I come over to Jay’s. She reads or writes while I do homework or study. It’s the easiest way to spend time with my girl and keep my grades up, or as Jay puts it, “a win-win.”
“It’s a story about a teenage girl who loses her mom and her aunt to breast cancer and she’s convinced that she has it too,” Jay answers with her eyes still glued to her iPad.
