by M. A. Foster
“Like what?”
“Like how to deal with the media shitstorm every time my girlfriend is out of my sight.”
“You deal with it by trusting me.”
“I do trust you, Jay, but seeing all of that play out on TV tonight, and knowing that it’s just the beginning, really freaks me the fuck out. That wasn’t high school drama on TV tonight. That was a whole new level of drama. I’m a little out of my league here.”
My stomach twists in knots. I want to burst into tears and beg him to change his mind, but I get it. “Okay.”
He leans over to kiss me, but I turn away and give him my cheek. “You’re not even gonna let me kiss you. You’ve been gone for three days.”
“Work your shit out first, Zach.”
“Fine. What the fuck ever.” He shoves his shoulder against the passenger door and climbs out, slamming it behind him and storming inside the house.
On the drive home, I realize Zach has a point. If being away from him is going to drive a wedge between us every time, is it even worth it?
Is love enough?
Is trusting each other even enough, anymore?
It’s not like I can wake up tomorrow and change who I am.
It’s another painful realization.
AFTER A LONG hot bath, I pull on a pair of leggings and a baseball tee, then slip on a pair of thick fuzzy socks. Grabbing my phone off the charger and a soft throw from the back of my sofa, I make my way out to my favorite spot.
I want to talk to Harper but she hasn’t come home from work yet. Mom’s in her room pouting because I don’t want to talk to her about my feelings. Between the media “shitstorm”—as Zach called it, Mom and Cam’s… relationship, Elizabeth basically calling me a whore, Cole’s hurtful words, and Zach’s “freak out,” I’m emotionally drained.
I light a fire in the small fireplace and curl up on my daybed, tucking my blanket under my chin. The air is damp and smells of rain. The dark gloomy sky is the perfect backdrop for my mood and the dozens of emotions swirling through my mind.
The patio door opens and a moment later Grace appears with a tray of coffee, tea, and a couple slices of her homemade banana nut bread, placing it on the little side table, before taking a seat on the edge of the daybed.
“I brought coffee, but I think tea would be better for you after the day you’ve had.”
“Thank you, Grace. Just what I need to get this pity party started,” I say sarcastically.
“Thanks for inviting me,” Grace retorts. “And you know I never show up to a party empty handed.” A snort bursts out of me. Grace giggles and then I lose it. I don’t know if I’m laughing, or crying, or crying because I’m laughing. Tears roll down the side of my face and into my hair.
“Are you okay?”
“God, no. I’m so not okay.”
“You need to talk to her,” Grace says, meaning my mom.
“I will. I’m not mad at her, Grace. I’m just… not ready to deal with her newfound relationship with Cam when my own relationship is falling apart.”
“I understand.” She nods and looks over my shoulder. I lift my head and follow her gaze to see Bass standing in the doorway.
“Princess, you look terrible.”
I snort again. “I feel terrible.” My voice is hoarse from all the ugly crying I did in the shower. “Welcome to my pity party.” I gesture to the coffee and banana bread. “There’s coffee, tea, and banana nut bread.”
“Then let’s get this party started,” Bass says, pushing himself off the door, snatching a piece of banana bread before perching on the edge of the daybed. Grace moves to the adjacent chair. “Tell me what happened with Romeo.”
“He’s freaked out, B. He tried to hurt me by acting like a dick in front of our friends, but when he realized I wasn’t gonna stick around and take his shit, he came after me and apologized. What can I do? He’s not used to this. Honestly, I wasn’t prepared either and I’ve been around it for most of my life. But no matter what kind of crap is being said on the Internet or the TV, Zach has to trust me.”
“That’s right,” Grace says.
“Come here, Princess,” Bass says softly, patting his lap and extending his arms. “Let me hold you.” A cuddle from B is exactly what I need. I crawl into his lap and he wraps his arms around me. “Marcus didn’t want this for you.” He rests his chin on the top of my head.
“No,” Grace agrees. “Marcus and Emmi had a hard time in the beginning, just like you and your Zach. Your mother had to put up with a lot of drama when she married Marcus. Women claimed they were having an affair with your father. Some even said they were pregnant with his child. The magazines even said he was having an affair with his nanny.”
“I didn’t have a nanny.”
“Exactly.” She winks.
“In our minds, we’re always playing out the what-if scenarios and how we’d react but when it actually happens, it never plays out the same way,” Bass says. “We act on instinct. I can only imagine Zach felt hurt and most likely insecure. Even though he trusts you, it doesn’t mean he wasn’t hurt or embarrassed. And it probably wasn’t good for his ego either. He’s the captain of the football team, the star quarterback with a promising football career and the most beautiful girlfriend in the world—”
I roll my eyes. “You’re laying it on a little too thick, B.”
“This is my story, Princess, so let me finish. Zach is the envy of all the guys, so imagine how he felt when that mess played out on TV in front of his friends, teammates, and peers. This is where your lives are different. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, but this is what your life is like. Either he accepts it and learns to ignore the rest of the bullshit, or you have to let each other go. You’re both still so young and—”
“I love him, B,” I cry.
“I know you do, Princess.”
“But you’re right. This is my life. I can’t change it and I’m not going to let anyone make me feel guilty for being who I am.” I sniff. “I just wanted some normalcy. To be in high school with kids my own age. And to do things normal teenagers do. But you know what I realized? I’m not a normal teenager no matter what I do. Friends are overrated. High school isn’t something you experience—it’s something you survive. Forget this normal shit. I want a do-over. I want to go back in time to when my father was alive and healthy and no one knew who I was. I want my daddy back.”
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
The hell?
I peel my eyes open and wince at the light beaming through the windows. “Are you fucking kidding me right now, Logan?” He’s standing over me banging on one of Zoe’s toy drums. “You’re the worst brother ever.” Groaning, I roll to my back and pull a pillow over my head. “I feel like shit.”
Logan drops down on the edge of the bed and yanks the pillow off my head. He points to the mug on my nightstand. “I thought you might need that.”
“Thanks,” I say before reaching for the mug.
He gives me a sympathetic look. “I need to tell you something.”
“What?” I bring the mug to my lips and wince at the taste of coffee. Blah.
“Yesterday Jay came by looking for you. She and Mom got into it at the front door and Mom pretty much called her a whore—”
“Jesus Christ! Is she ever gonna stop?” I set the mug down and drag my hands down my face. “What time is it?”
“Almost seven.”
“Shit. I’m gonna be late for school.” I toss back the covers and head for the shower. The doorbell rings, followed by heavy pounding on the door.
I frown at Logan and he shrugs. “Go shower. I’ll go see who it is.”
Stepping out of the bathroom, after my shower, I find Bass standing in the open doorway of my bedroom and nearly drop my towel.
His phone is pressed to his ear. “Yep. I’m here now.” He sighs and rubs his temple. “She’s not ready, Em. Give the girl some space. How would you feel? Okay, then… I’ll see you later… Okay… Okaaay… Jeezus, woman,
I said okay. Will you let me get off the phone so I can wrap this up? It is Valentine’s Day, you know? I got romantic shit to do… Bye.”
Without taking his eyes off me, Bass shoves his phone into the front pocket of his jeans and crosses his arms over his chest. “You wanna tell me what went down last night, Romeo?”
“I fucked up, B.”
“You did,” he agrees as he pushes off the doorway and steps further into my room. He sits on the end of the bed with his forearms resting on his thighs and his hands clasped together.
“How is she?”
He huffs out a humorless laugh. “How do you think she is?”
There isn’t much I can say to that. “Why aren’t you pounding my face in right now?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t believe in kicking a man when he’s down.”
He pats the side of the bed for me to sit next to him.
“Em and me, we go way back, since freshman year of college. She’s my best friend and a huge pain in my ass, but I’d do anything for her. Marcus… he loved that girl hard. He was a good husband. Loyal. But sometimes love wasn’t always enough. Em struggled with the media and the tabloid gossip. Women claiming they’d had affairs with Marcus or pregnant with his child. They fought about it. A lot. But then Em finally realized she either had to grow a thicker skin or walk away. She loved Marcus too much to walk away. So, she got a degree in PR and learned how to play the game. She’s good at it, too. Then my princess came along and our lives changed. Marcus…” He shakes his head. “…I’ve never seen that man happier than the day she was born. He said, ‘Bass, promise me that if anything ever happens to me you’ll protect my little Jaybird.’ It was like he knew. I love my princess with every breath in my body. She stole my heart the first time she wrapped her tiny hand around my index finger, and now she’s got me wrapped around her finger. I was there when she said her first words, took her first steps, wrote and sang her first song, and played her first instrument. I was the first person she informed when she shaved her legs for the first time and when she got her period for the first time.” He shudders. “I was also the first person she told about a boy named Zach, and that one day she was gonna marry him.” Bass chuckles. “She’s a beautiful girl, there’s no denying that, but she’s even more beautiful on the inside because she carries so much love in her heart.
“I didn’t come here to kill you, Romeo. Princess loves you, but for the first time, you made her feel ashamed of who she is. That cut her deep. She’s hurt and she’s mad. To be fair, she’s mad at a lot of people right now.”
“I don’t want to lose her. It’s just…” I can’t think of a single word to describe what I’m feeling right now. I shake my head.
“You’ll figure it out.”
I chuckle. “How do I fix this?”
“It’s Valentine’s Day. Start there. I can’t promise you it will be easy because—and this may come as a shock—she’s stubborn and she has a little bit of a temper.” He holds up his thumb and index finger and I breathe out a laugh.
“No shit.”
“But if you’re serious about her like I know you are, then you have to fight for her. If she pushes, push back. And if you ever tell her I said that, I will kill you.” He smiles. “Just kidding.”
He’s not kidding.
MIKE EASTON IS a big guy. He can be intimidating at times, but mostly he’s pretty laid-back. He doesn’t get mad often, but when he does, he can be downright scary. Like right now, standing at the bottom of the stairs, he looks pissed. “In my office, Zach. Now.”
My dad’s not a physical punishment kind of guy. He prefers to throw out verbal lashes that have us walking away with our tails between our legs. Probably why he’s a good lawyer.
Bypassing the leather club chairs, I toss my backpack on the floor and drop down on the sofa, leaning my head back. My dad takes a seat behind his desk.
“What time did you get home last night?” he asks.
“I don’t know.”
“Were you drunk?”
I shrug. “I wasn’t driving. What’s with the interrogation?”
“Watch your mouth and look at me when I’m talking to you,” he yells. I lift my head from the cushion and scowl at him. “Why were you drinking on a school night in the first place? And what were you doing with the Vaughn girl?”
“I wasn’t—”
“Michael!” My mom interrupts. “Why are you yelling?”
“Because I’m disgusted with my son’s behavior,” he replies in a raised voice, keeping his eyes trained on me. “Now tell me what the fuck you were doing with the Vaughn girl last night.”
“What are you talking about?”
“What am I talking about? Let’s see if I can get this straight.” He drags his hands down his face. “This all started because of a few pictures posted on the Internet.”
I shrug.
“So, what? You run to the ex-girlfriend for a little revenge screw?”
“It wasn’t even like that, Dad,” I defend with a scowl. “Where did you get your information?”
“From Brick Manning. Were you not at his house last night?”
“Yes, but I wasn’t doing anything with Reagan.”
“That’s not what Brick just told me. He said Brooklyn told him you wrapped your arm around the Vaughn girl in front of your girlfriend, and I quote, said ‘fuck you.’”
“It was fuck off,” Logan adds from the doorway.
“Logan, be quiet,” my mom snaps. “Michael, that’s enough!”
“I say when it’s enough, Elizabeth.” He slams his fist down on his desk. “You don’t get a say in this, so you can either sit down and be quiet or get out of my office.”
She does neither. Instead, she crosses her arms over her chest and stews in silence.
My dad leans back in his chair and clasps his hands behind his head. “What do you think your life will be like when you’re a big shot in the NFL?”
“I don’t know. That’s a long time from now.”
Zoe waddles into my dad’s office and rounds his desk. My dad smiles as he lifts her into his lap and kisses her on the head. He softens his tone. “Humor me. Hypothetically speaking, if you signed with the NFL tomorrow and became a star player, what do you think would happen? Do you think you could walk through the mall without someone asking for a picture or an autograph? Do you think you could just walk into Mac’s and shoot pool with your buddies and not have someone approach you? Do you think there will never be pictures of you on the Internet? Most athletes just want to play the game and not get caught up in the media spotlight. I’m sure it’s the same for actors, actresses, and musicians, too. They just want to do their job. Unfortunately, their lives on are display for the whole world to watch and judge. Do you think that’s fair?”
“No.”
“So, how is it fair to Jayla? To you, to us, and to everyone in this town, she’s Jay Mackenzie. An eighteen-year-old high school student with a pretty face, bright personality, and a golden voice. To the world, she’s Jaybird.” He turns his attention to my mom. “She shouldn’t be punished for who her parents are or for things that aren’t her fault.” He turns back to me. “This is the life she was born into, Zach. Marcus King was her dad, but to the rest of the world he was a rock star and a reality TV star. He was famous, and whether or not she asked for it, she is, too. It is what it is. Deal with it or move on.” He covers Zoe’s ears and I chuckle. “I’m done with this bullshit. Elizabeth, you will apologize to Jayla and you pull that stick out of your ass and work your shit out with Emerson.”
I scoff. “Mom will be lucky if she even gets a ‘fuck you’ from Jay after the way she treated her last night.”
“Watch your mouth,” Logan says. “Her ears aren’t covered.”
My mom turns to me. “I’m sorry, Zach.”
“You should be. We’ve been together for seven months and you never once gave her a chance. Whether you like her or not, you should’ve have made an effort for me becau
se I’m your son and she’s the girl I love. The girl who makes me happy. How would you feel if Emerson treated me the way you’ve treated Jay?”
“I wouldn’t like it.”
“Of course, you wouldn’t. But you don’t have to worry about that because Emerson doesn’t carry around a twenty-year-old grudge. You know why? Because she’s got better things to do with her time, like taking care of her daughter. Before you hated Emerson, she was your best friend for eighteen years. Think about it.” I stand up, grabbing my backpack off the floor, and walk to the door. “I’m going to school and afterward I’m going to buy some flowers for my girl and pray she forgives me.” I turn my attention to my mom. “Dad’s right. You need to work your shit out.”
“Watch your mouth.”
RIHANNA’S “LOVE ON The Brain” is playing when I walk into the kitchen and spot a giant bouquet of ranunculus in various shades of light pink and ivory with a card in the middle addressed to Jaybird. I pluck the card from the bouquet and open it.
Jaybird,
Happy Valentine’s Day.
I love you always.
Love,
Daddy
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Miss Jayla,” Grace singsongs, setting down a plate of heart-shaped pancakes in front of me.
I smile at her. “Thank you, my amazing Grace. Have you seen Harper?”
“She left early for a meeting,” she replies.
Mom walks into the kitchen and leans over the counter to face me. “Are you gonna talk to me today, or do you still hate me?”
“Jesus, Mom.” I throw my hands up. “I don’t hate you. I could never hate you. You’re my ride or die. Just give me some time to process, okay? The past twenty-four hours have been pretty freakin’ shitty.”
“I don’t know what ‘ride or die’ means, but I’ll take it.” She smiles, reaching into the pocket of her robe and setting a rectangular jewelry box on the counter with the word “Cartier” embossed on the top. “Happy Valentine’s Day. This is from your dad and me.”
