HIDDEN CREEK THEN: a hidden creek high novel

by Kidman, Jaxson

  And there I was, like a slug, my feet smushing along the floor as I walked to clean up another table.

  I sighed and dropped a wet rag to the table.

  I looked out the window and shook my head.

  What was I thinking with Jett?

  I met him at a fight. He was over the top with his words and actions. I believed everything he said. And he always backed it up.

  The way he made me feel in that one night was more than I ever felt with Kinney for the entire time we were together.

  Kinney and I broke up two days later.

  It was so blatantly obvious that I didn’t like him too. He had the nerve to tell me the guys told him having a girlfriend was a bad idea. Especially one like me. Apparently there were certain groups of girls for certain groups of guys. He literally told me I wasn’t good enough for him and I was so happy to hear it.

  Because that night I met up with Jett and he took me to the beach and I tried really hard to be sad about Kinney but all I could obsess about was Jett kissing me. And when he did, I fell in love with him a second time. And each time he kissed me after that I fell in love again and again.

  Wild, fast, fun, and way too intense and serious.

  So of course it ended the way it did.

  When I shut my eyes, I still saw the necklace flying through the air into the ocean.

  Like a big giant sign flashing fuck this! and that was that.

  I put my hand to the wet rag and wiped down the table.

  Then something slid across my mind.

  I turned and saw Aunt Bea standing behind me.

  She wiped her forehead. “What a day so far.”

  “Yeah. Hey, has Art been in yet?”

  “Not that I’ve seen,” she said.

  “Poor guy. That cough must still be kicking his butt, huh?”

  “He’ll be fine. He’s tough.”

  “Yeah?” I asked, grinning. “How tough?”

  “Watch yourself, Julia. My relationship is none of your concern.”

  “Relationship?” I asked. I touched my chest. “This is huge news. Look at you go, Aunt Bea.”

  “Stop, right now,” she said.

  I showed my hands. “When you talk to him today, let him know I was asking about him. Hopefully he’ll be back in here soon enough. I kind of miss him.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Aunt Bea said.

  She smiled big.

  I made an O with my mouth.

  Aunt Bea walked away and went back to cleaning the tables.

  Whether I was in love, heartbroken, single or taken, I had a business to run.

  So that’s where I kept my focus.

  With my old, beat up notebook, I kept to the same routine.

  But in the back of my mind I thought about Jett. And I looked at my phone every chance I could. Wondering if Jett would call. Wondering if I should call him.

  Or if it was done, then it was just done.

  Screw it. Fuck it. Whatever.

  I put my notebook on the counter and flipped to a fresh page.

  The day had quieted down and I shut my eyes, knowing leaving the bakery was going to suck. Being alone. Feeling alone.

  That…

  “Julia,” Aunt Bea’s voice yelled from the back. “Julia. I need you. Right now.”

  I turned.

  Aunt Bea never asked for help…

  “Julia!” her voice bellowed.

  I ran to the back of the bakery and saw her standing with her hand against the wall. Her other hand touching her chest. Her lips quivering and eyes filled with tears.

  I thought it was a heart attack.

  “Aunt Bea…”

  She reached for me. “Julia…”

  “I’ll get help,” I said.

  She stepped toward me. “Julia…”

  “What is it?” I asked.

  Aunt Bea touched my arm. “Art… he’s dead.”

  * * *

  We used the bakery for the gathering after the viewing.

  Only a handful of people showed up, but all of them were strangers to Aunt Bea. And by the time they all left, they had filled Aunt Bea’s heart with plenty of stories about Art.

  I took care of everything at the bakery so Aunt Bea could just be present in her grief. And this was a whole different kind of grief too. She had lost her husband already in life. The man she loved and married and had all intentions of spending the rest of her life with. Clive was taken from her far too soon to be fair in the fairy tale she had written in her heart.

  And now this.

  Art had been just a customer. Then a conversationalist. Then a friend. Then more.

  Because of me…

  And now he was gone too.

  Complications.

  That’s what they said.

  His cough was actually something worse. And Art being a little more than stubborn, refused to go to a doctor. So a cough turned into something much more serious and that led to complications that ended his life early.

  I smoked one last cigarette and then had to get dressed for the funeral.

  We closed the bakery for the day.

  And there was no gathering afterwards.

  The day after the viewing was when Aunt Bea’s attitude changed.

  She was quiet.

  And when she spoke, she was mean.

  She made it clear that if anyone wanted to celebrate Art’s life after the funeral they could do it somewhere else. On their own time and dime.

  Her reaction and outbursts were expected and I didn’t let them bother me.

  What did bother me though was death itself.

  I hated death.

  I hated the gut punch of the end.

  Knowing that every second that went by was a second closer to dying. And with each breath taken was one breath closer to our last.

  It was scary, humbling, and honestly, it made me feel sick.

  I shook the entire time I got dressed.

  I had to hide all those feelings as I drove Aunt Bea to the funeral services.

  They were held outside, at a small garden where Art used to paint. He was known for helping create the garden as it was once a tangled mess of weeds.

  When we arrived, Aunt Bea walked herself to the front of gathering.

  I kind of just lingered back, picking at my nails, chewing on my lip, not sure what I was supposed to do, think, or how to act.

  I had a horrible fear that I would get so freaked out by the entire thing, I would end up smiling or laughing, just out of a reactionary need to feel comfort.

  What I really needed was…

  A hand touched my hand.

  I pulled and turned my head.

  Jett stood next to me.

  Dressed in all black. Wearing black sunglasses.

  I gasped and my eyes filled with tears.

  He looked down at me and put his arm around me.

  I hated myself for burying my face into his chest and arm.

  But whatever.

  “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he whispered to me. “I’m sorry for Aunt Bea too. She must be feeling it hard. All things considered.”

  I looked up at Jett again. “Yeah. She is.”

  The funeral began and Jett and I weren’t able to talk.

  But as everyone stood there and said their goodbyes to Art, I savored each second with Jett.

  Because I knew one of them was going to be our last.

  * * *

  The funeral was finished and Aunt Bea changed her mind, deciding to visit with Art’s best friend, wanting to go through some pictures and hear more stories. There was a longing in Aunt Bea’s eyes, knowing she wanted to know everything about Art. Which told me she had fallen in love with him, even though she never spoke it out loud.

  I hugged her goodbye and cried.

  She kept her composure as she always did.

  She didn’t know I heard her crying the night before.

  And she never would.

  “I’m so sorry, Aunt Bea,” Jett said to her.
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  He offered a hug and Aunt Bea took it.

  Granted, she hugged him back with one arm and looked annoyed.

  They left, as did everyone else.

  Which left Jett and I standing in the rose garden alone.

  Me wearing a black dress.

  Him wearing black jeans and a black t-shirt.

  Facing each other.

  We stared at each other for seconds. And with enough seconds, it became a minute. And then even more seconds, it became another minute.

  “Jett…”

  He shook his head.

  He stepped forward and touched my face.

  His lips met mine and the world felt…

  It didn’t matter.

  Jett broke the kiss and put his forehead to mine. “I can never lose you, sweetheart. No matter what.”

  I nodded. “I know. I can’t lose you either, Jett. That’s why I-”

  “I know,” he whispered. “Believe me, I know. There’s nothing I can do or say to it.”

  “Neither can I,” I said. “It’s not my place to tell you what to do. Some hot guy once told me that.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “He was so fucking hot, Jett. Hottest guy I ever met. He stole my cigarette, smoked half of it, gave it back to me, and told me to not let someone tell me what to do.”

  “He does sound hot,” Jett said.

  “Incredibly hot,” I whispered.

  “And I bet he loves you to death.”

  “I don’t know. He says it sometimes.”

  “Nah, sweetheart. I bet he’s the type that says it all the time.”

  I felt guilt swim through me. “You really threw the necklace into the ocean.”

  “Yeah. I did.”

  “But I guess I threw it down to the beach first.”

  “Yeah. You did.”

  “It was an ugly necklace anyway,” I said.

  “Really ugly,” Jett said. “I wish I never bought it.”

  I put my head to his chest and smiled in what felt like the first time in five years.

  “I can’t lose you, Jett,” I said.

  “You never have too, sweetheart,” he said. “It’ll take a lot more than a fucking necklace for me to lose you for good.”

  Chapter 19

  NOW

  Jett

  I crumbled up the invoice and threw it at Wes’s face.

  He swatted it out of the air and stumbled back like a bee was attacking him.

  “What the hell, Jett?” Wes yelled.

  I stepped up to him and plucked the cigarette out of his mouth and dropped it to the ground and stomped on it.

  “Can you fucking write like a human?” I asked.

  “What?”

  “Pick up that invoice,” I said.

  Wes’s lip curled like a rattlesnake about to attack. And he could attack whenever he wanted. I was a fucking lion. He could try to bite. I would devour. Simple as that.

  He knew that too.

  Which was why he picked up the invoice and wrestled to open it.

  “That’s shit,” I said to him. “You can’t read a thing on it. How the fuck am I supposed to keep track of that? Or file it? Or hand it over to someone?”

  “Sorry,” Wes said.

  “You fucking should be,” I snapped. “Use your damn head once in a while. I know this place is nothing but a joke to you. You’re going to get the keys soon enough and then what? I’ll still be here running the fucking show. Smarten up.”

  “Fuck… Jett…”

  I snapped my fingers and pointed at him.

  Then I backed off before I exploded even more.

  “Write the fucking thing the right way,” I said.

  I turned and stormed toward the office.

  I kicked the door open and Pop turned in his chair.

  “Who pissed in your coffee?” he asked.

  “Not in the mood for your bullshit either,” I said.

  Pop slowly stood up. “Want to come say that to my face?”

  I stared down Pop for a second.

  If Wes was a rattlesnake and I was a lion… Pop was the meteor that killed all the dinosaurs.

  I walked to the other office door and slammed it shut as I went back into the garage. My eyes caught sight of the back door and I knew that was my only chance at escape.

  Out back I stood there and smoked a cigarette.

  I looked around, shaking my head, thinking how it wasn’t all that long ago that Elijah was out here fighting Tony. All because Tony made a comment about Elijah’s girlfriend’s ass. And Wes would have killed someone if they got too close to Aira.

  All of that I understood.

  I had taken more showers since that night with Julia than I had in the last two years. And I still couldn’t wash her away. I couldn’t stop seeing her when I shut my eyes. Or tasting her when I licked my lips. Or just felt her…

  I tossed my cigarette into a pile of junk and turned as Wes walked out the door.

  He quickly put his hands up.

  “What do you want?” I asked him.

  He had a piece of paper in his hand. “Here’s the invoice. Written perfectly. Sorry I fucked that other one up.”

  “Put it in the office,” I said. “I don’t want it.”

  “Not a problem,” Wes said.

  I gritted my teeth as he moved toward the door.

  “Wes, wait up,” I said.

  He looked at me. “Don’t ever stop fighting for her. No matter what happens.”

  “I never would,” Wes said, knowing exactly what I was talking about and what I meant.

  “I’m not sorry for yelling at you.”

  “You never are,” he said. He took a step and paused. “Maybe you should do the same, Jett. Take your own advice.”

  “Go inside,” I said. “Now.”

  Wes listened.

  I hurried after the door and punched it after it was already shut.

  Fucking Wes. Punk kid.

  Just like I used to be.

  I didn’t want to go back though.

  I just wanted to move forward.

  With the only person I ever really loved.

  * * *

  I walked to the counter and Julia didn’t see me at first.

  But Whitney did.

  And judging by the way her eyes went really wide, Julia had told her everything that had happened.

  Julia turned, pursed her lips together, and waited to see what I had planned.

  I put money down on the counter.

  Whitney took a step and Julia stopped her.

  Julia instead came to the counter. “How can I help you?”

  “Coffee and surprise me,” I said.

  “We don’t do surprises here,” Julia said. “How do I know you’re not allergic to something?”

  “Ah, right,” I said. “What was I thinking. Give me something with chocolate chips in it, please.”

  Julia never broke her stare as she got me two chocolate chip cookies.

  She put them on the counter.

  “Two?” I asked. “I’m not meeting anyone here. I’m alone.”

  “Five will cover it,” she said. “Plus tip.”

  “Of course,” I said.

  I took the cookies and poured myself a coffee.

  No lid.

  Black.

  And I sat at a table that was very familiar to Julia.

  But we were strangers now, right?

  That’s how she wanted to do this?

  I sat there and sipped my coffee and took one bite out of one of the cookies.

  And I just sat there.

  Whitney walked through a few times.

  She looked more and more irritated with me each time she walked by.

  After sitting for almost an hour, Julia walked by the table.

  “Coffee is delicious,” I said to her.

  She looked at me. “Good.”

  “Want a cookie?”

  “What?”

  “I have two. I only want
one. Sit and have a cookie with me.”

  I kicked at the chair opposite me.

  Julia grabbed it and slammed it to the table.

  I stood up. I put my hand out. “I’m Jett.”

  She swallowed hard and offered her hand back. “I’m Julia.”

  “This is a nice place. I might be back tomorrow.”

  “You sure about that?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I’ll get the same thing and sit right here. And I’ll wait.”

  “And what will you be waiting for, Jett?”

  “The woman I love,” I said.

  Julia curled her lip. She grabbed the other cookie off the table and took a big bite.

  After she chewed and swallowed, she said, “I prefer oatmeal cookies. I’m weird like that.”

  “Good to know,” I said.

  She walked away.

  I stared at her ass.

  I grinned.

  Of course I knew she preferred oatmeal cookies. I made fun of her for it all the time. She knew I liked anything with chocolate chips in it.

  But we could play the stranger game.

  It wouldn’t save our hearts.

  But it was a way to waste time together.

  * * *

  I look around for her.

  She still has to be here, right?

  Scotty hands me a towel. ‘That was brutal.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ I say and wipe my face.

  There’s blood. I can feel my left eye swelling. My jaw hurts but I know it’s not broken.

  I really don’t give a shit about any of that. Pain is pain, man. Pain goes away. Give it a little time and it would be gone. And if it took longer than that I just needed something to make up for the pain.

  And that something was a someone.

  ‘What are you looking for, brother?’ Scotty asks me. ‘You drop something?’

  Just my jaw, Scotty… I think but I don’t say it.

  My jaw doesn’t get dropped.

  Not by a girl.

  But this wasn’t just a girl I met…

  ‘Just let me look for someone,’ I say.

  ‘Aaahhh,’ Scotty says. ‘Nice.’

  I toss the bloody towel back to Scotty and keep walking.

  The fights were stupid, okay? They were horribly stupid. But they were my only chance at making a few extra bucks that I desperately needed at the moment.