by Ali Dean
“Brockton looks like a real city from up here at night.” The bright lights against the dark sky are mesmerizing.
“What do you mean? Brockton is a real city.”
“Yeah, I guess. But I always think of it as a small town, you know?”
I glance over at him and he’s studying me. “I know. It’s home.” He looks back out at the view. “It’ll be weird leaving this place.”
“Where are you going?”
He shrugs. “Not sure. Somewhere to play baseball, hopefully.”
I remember what I learned last year about the team, that a lot of them did steroids. Jace told me it’s pretty common on baseball teams. Maybe it’s the tequila, or maybe it’s that Clayton helped me out not once, but twice, last year, but I boldly ask, “Do you do steroids, Clayton?”
He laughs. Really hard. Like, full-on, gasping-for-breath laughter. And I don’t think it’s because he found my boldness amusing, although that might have something to do with it. Finally, he answers, “Not anymore, Pepper. People change.”
“Believe me, I know.” Jace has changed so much over the past few years, I sometimes feel like I don’t even know him anymore. For most of high school, we were best friends and nothing more. Then I started dating Ryan, and Jace went all delinquent on me. Ever since Jace and I got together, I thought he’d begun to let go of that dark place inside of him. Maybe part of it was being with me, and part of it was his mom returning to Brockton, but that progress stopped abruptly months ago when she left.
It’s like there are always two roads for him, one dark and the other light. He can switch from one to the other too easily, so maybe they are the same road, just one side is in the shade. I think I might have had too much to drink.
“It’s freezing, let’s go inside,” Clayton says, opening the door again. Did I say all that out loud?
Wes opens the door to Clayton’s room at the same time we come in from the balcony. His eyes zero in on us like laser beams, taking in the way Clayton is standing beside me, closing the door behind us. I shrug. No one has a claim on me anymore, and I can talk to boys on balconies if I feel like it.
Wes looks away, and I notice the girl with him. I gasp. Dramatically. The others in the room turn to look at me, and their gazes swing between me, Wes, and Veronica Finch, who will always be known to me as pigtail girl. I vow to never wear pigtails. She is friends with Savannah, possibly even conspired with her to hurt me, and therefore she is an enemy. Tequila helps to clarify good and evil, I think.
I march over to Wes. “Do you know who she is?” I ask, pointing at Veronica. Subtlety is not a goal of mine at the moment.
Wes hesitates for a moment, and I wonder if he actually knows that this was, may still be, Savannah’s best friend. “Yeah, Vanessa. We just met.”
Ah, no wonder he hesitated.
Veronica begins to clarify that her name is not Vanessa, but I interrupt her. “She’s friends with Savannah.” I’d elaborate, but there’s no need. Wes stiffens and points to the door.
“Yeah, okay, well, see you later,” he dismisses her.
She puts her hands on her hips. “Are you kidding me?” She looks ready to say more, but Clayton puts a hand on her shoulder and not-so-gently guides her out of the room.
“You’re not wanted here, Finch. And it’s my room.”
I don’t even feel sorry for her when she struts out of there like she’s hot stuff. She is kind of hot, I guess. I mean, in an evil sort of way. I feel powerful, and totally justified. Girls like that are bad news, and she doesn’t deserve a piece of Wesley Jamison.
After Veronica leaves, and with Wes in the room, I decide I much prefer it here to the rest of the party. Lexi and Trish seem happy enough as well, each flirting with a baseball player. Lexi stopped hooking up with Brax at some point, and I’m not entirely sure why. I think they were both too afraid to admit their feelings to each other and they couldn’t keep doing what they were doing and pretending it was meaningless. I have a feeling that kind of thing happens a lot in college, and it makes me sort of sad.
At some point, I notice that the number of people in the room is growing. It’s still not as crowded as it was downstairs, but while the room is big for a bedroom, it’s not exactly large enough to host a party. I’ve designated myself the room’s DJ, and I’m actually enjoying myself as I sort through the music collection and chat with random people. When I spot Melanie the redhead across the room, mixing a drink, I push down the ugly feelings as best I can.
Only a moment after I see her, Jace enters the room. I’ve heard people say things like, I felt him before I saw him, and for the first time, I actually experience that sensation. But unlike when it’s a serial killer or something in the room, my body flashes hot instead of cold. My head snaps up against my will, seeking him out.
Sure enough, he’s wandering over to Wes, wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs, with marker all over his back, chest and arms. I have little doubt his teammates had something to do with his attire. I notice he doesn’t appear drunk, and though I haven’t seen him drunk in a very long time, for some reason I expected it tonight. If I’m honest, I was actually looking forward to it. I think I was secretly planning to corner him and grill him on what happened with us, with the hope that he’d let his guard down. I don’t know why I thought that was a good idea, or that it would be at all fruitful.
Even with Clayton and Wes in the room, there’s a shift in energy with Jace’s arrival. Sometimes I wonder if I imagine it, but right now it’s unmistakable. People turn their bodies toward him, look his way, track his movements. I wish I was immune, but I’m just as affected as everyone else. The boxer brief situation is not helping.
This time, though, I won’t wait for him to come to me. I won’t be the coward in this relationship. My steps falter at that thought. There is no relationship. But I charge forward anyway.
“Hi, Jace.”
“Hi, Pepper. Congrats on the big win today.”
“Yeah, you too. And the MVP award. That’s awesome.”
“Thanks.”
“Nice outfit.”
Jace glances down and sighs. “Yeah. Couldn’t get out of it.”
Wes looks back and forth between us, clearly amazed that it’s possible for things to be this awkward. Yup. It has come to this. We are acting like acquaintances. Like we have no history at all.
I stay for a few minutes, looking for an opening, any opportunity to go deeper, but the conversation remains surface level. Finally, I can’t stand it.
“Why the bracelet, Jace?” I hold up my wrist. “What was it all about?”
I scour his reaction for any sign of what he’s feeling, but I come up short.
“Oh, I’m glad you liked it. Did you wear it at the race?”
I nod.
“I guess it was good luck after all, then.”
I blink rapidly, trying to comprehend how he can act like this means nothing.
“Yeah, I guess so,” I whisper.
It’s time for me to go. I can’t get out of the room fast enough. I thought he’d come up to Clayton’s room for me. To see me and talk to me. But he probably came for Melanie. I feel so stupid. I thought I had accepted that things were over. I thought I had decided not to shed another tear over him.
I guess I can decide whatever I want, but I can’t control my emotions like Jace can. Or maybe he’s not controlling them. Maybe he just doesn’t feel anything toward me anymore.
Before I go to bed that night I take my scissors and cut the bracelet off. I can’t bring myself to toss it in the trash, but I place it in a shoebox with some of my running medals, and slide it under my bed. All signs of Jace Wilder must stay hidden from view.
Chapter 22
When I return to the dorms after my last exam a week and a half later, I’m experiencing a level of exhaustion almost as severe as the final mile of a cross race, only it’s mostly in my head this time. Since the post-Nationals party, I’ve been doing nothing but study. I guess I
eat and sleep and I’ve gone on a few runs, but for the first time ever, school work has briefly taken over my life.
Indoor track and field officially started weeks ago, and the first meet is this weekend, but all of the cross runners who went to Nationals are supposed to take a few weeks off from workouts and just focus on recovering so that we can come back from winter break rested and ready to start track season. I hadn’t been entirely neglecting my school work before finals started, but the final exams and papers in my classes count for over half my grade for the entire semester, and the amount of material involved was daunting, to say the least. But I wasn’t alone. The entire campus was on lockdown.
I drop my backpack in my room and head to the restroom, trying to decide whether I want to take a nap or go on a run. I’ve finished my first semester of college and it seems anticlimactic to go to sleep, even if that’s what my body craves. But when I open the door to the bathroom and hear the distinct sound of someone throwing up, I snap to attention. It’s two PM and unlikely any of my roommates have been drinking enough to puke. The sound is accompanied by a pungent smell and then the toilet flushes and Gina swings open the stall door.
“Oh, hi Pepper,” she says lightly, turning on the faucet to wash her hands. “Did you just get back from an exam?”
“Yeah,” I reply cautiously. “Are you ok? Are you sick or something?” I’m quite certain that is not the case, but I have no idea how to handle this.
She shrugs as she wipes her hands with a paper towel. “No, I’m fine.”
“But, weren’t you just puking?”
“Yeah, sometimes I throw up before a test. Nerves, you know?”
I shift my weight back and forth, unwilling to move from my spot. I’m blocking the door, and Gina is waiting for me to get out of the way. But I can’t. I have to say something. Do something. But what?
“Um, do you throw up on purpose?”
Gina straightens her shoulders. “Yeah. I mean, it’s better than letting it out in the middle of the test, don’t you think?” she asks sharply.
“How often do you do it?”
“I don’t know. Look, Pepper, I’ve really got to get going.” She sounds impatient now, like this silly conversation is a waste of her time. Like what just happened is no big deal. I almost feel stupid for pushing it.
“Gina, you’re making yourself throw up. That’s not something I can ignore.”
Her eyes narrow and I know I’ve hit a nerve. “Not everyone can be skinny without effort, Pepper. Some of us have to work for it. I know it’s not a reality you’d understand, but I suggest you stop questioning me. I’m perfectly capable of making my own decisions. Sometimes I want to eat things that will make me fat and throwing up after keeps the weight off. It’s life.” And with that, she bursts by me, letting the door slam behind her.
Stunned and certainly unable to take a nap now, I find myself jogging to Shadow Lane and sitting at the kitchen counter, telling Gran what just went down. “What am I supposed to do?” I ask.
“She needs help, Pep. You need to tell someone who can help her.”
“I know, Gran, but who? I can tell Coach or someone on the team, but no one can force her to see a doctor.” It’s tempting to just tell Lexi, because she was the one who first came to me about Gina. But the more people I tell, the more likely Gina’s life will get rolled around in the gossip mill. Lexi isn’t inclined to do that to Gina, but I need a plan before I start telling anyone.
“Your coach probably can force her to go see a doctor, you know,” Gran tells me. “Doesn’t he have a say in who’s on the team? Can’t he keep people out for injuries or health reasons? I think he’s the best person to handle this.”
“Should I tell Sienna or Kiki, or Lexi or Caroline? Everyone’s been worried about her. I just feel like our teammates care about her and want to be involved in helping her but I also feel so disloyal to Gina telling anyone what I witnessed.”
Gran nods. “Why don’t you talk to Gina? Tell her your concerns, and that you don’t feel you can keep this to yourself.”
“Gran, she’s in total denial and this wicked mean side of her comes out when I’ve confronted her before. Like, she gets super defensive. I think she might have split personalities,” I add.
“Don’t get overdramatic now, Pep. I’m sure her body’s eatin’ up any sweetness left in her, is all.”
“Oh? Is that why everyone gets grumpy when we’re hungry? Our body eats up our sweetness?”
“Course! That’s why we got plenty of cookies in this house at all times. And why I’m such a sweetie,” Gran adds with a wink.
I roll my eyes. “Okay, I’ll email Coach and ask to meet with him. And I’ll try to talk to Gina again.”
Gran nods. “Good girl. Now, when are you coming home for the winter break? Your last exam was today, right?”
“Yup. I’m just going to go back to the dorms now, pack up some stuff, have dinner with some people, and then I’ll be back in my own bed tonight. Oh, and Zoe might come over later after she gets in,” I add.
Gran claps her hands. “Oh goodie. We really need to get some dance parties going while she’s home. Don’t want to lose my moves in my old age.”
“I’m sure Zoe would love to bust a move or two with you, Gran, but you better take it easy on that hip,” I warn. Gran likes to pretend nothing happened, but she’s not as agile as she was before she fell, that’s for sure.
“I can still work it, Pep, don’t you worry ‘bout me.”
“Never, Bernadette, never.” I just can’t help myself sometimes.
She narrows and points her finger at me. “Careful, or I’ll hide all the cookies I’ve been baking for your homecoming.”
Seeing Zoe again feels so good. We’ve both made new friends and memories over the past few months, but she’s still her loveable, bubbly self. And it doesn’t surprise me when she mentions a party she wants to hit up.
“Aren’t you exhausted from exams, dude?””
Zoe laughs. “‘Dude?’ Really? Did college make you cool or something, Pepper?”
I shove her playfully. “No, I’ll never be cool, Zoe. But Lexi says ‘dude’ in like, every sentence, so it kind of rubbed off on me.”
“I need to meet this Lexi.”
“You’ll like her.”
“I like her!” Gran calls from the sofa.
“She’s got Bunny’s stamp of approval, so she must be a good one.”
“She’s a keeper.”
“So anyway, dude,” Zoe says, “you should come out with me. Everyone’s back for winter break. It’ll be fun.”
“I know you have endless energy, Zoe, but I’m seriously running on empty here. I need, like, fifteen hours of uninterrupted sleep.”
Zoe waves me off. “You can get it later. Just come for a little and you can leave whenever.”
Sighing, I relent, like I usually do with her. “Fine, where is it?”
She grins. “It’s Wes’s party.”
I don’t want to admit why this motivates me to change out of the sweats I’ve been wearing for a week straight and into a cute outfit. If it’s Wes’s party, Jace will be there. I must be masochistic to want to see him again, but I can’t help it. I didn’t run into him once over finals week, since I wasn’t at the gym or Chapman Hall at the same times as him like usual. There’s a chance he won’t show, as he’s probably super busy with football training. But the possibility of him being there has butterflies in my stomach. I try to ignore it, knowing these feelings are stupid. I just can’t seem to give up on him.
It’s been a long time since I’ve been to a party at Wes’s house, and it’s strange being here with everyone from Brockton Public and Lincoln Academy, now that we’ve all graduated. Our high school identities are still with us, but we each come with a new identity too. The house is almost as packed as it was the other night at Sig Beta, and I realize it’s not just people from my year and Wes’s year, but there are people who graduated before us and people still i
n high school too. I’m surprised I didn’t hear about this party earlier, but knowing Wes, he probably pulled it off last minute.
I spend most of the night hanging out with my old teammates in a big room in the basement. Jenny and Rollie are still together, and they are cuddled up looking far too adorable as we all catch up on our lives over the past few months. We’ve stayed in touch a little, but there are plenty of stories to share. I’m thankful no one asks me about Jace, whom I still haven’t spotted tonight. I’ve got my Jace-radar turned all the way up though.
The last person I expect to run into when I head to the restroom is Madeline Brescoll. I haven’t seen her in a very long time. She disappeared from the Brockton social scene after unsuccessfully trying to sabotage my relationship with Jace. Seeing her coming out of the bathroom, I’m reminded of a time almost two years ago when she cornered me by a bathroom at another party. I’m a lot stronger now than I was then, but I’m not in the mood to deal with a confrontation.
And, judging by the way she shrinks to the side to let me pass and averts her gaze to the floor, Madeline Brescoll is weaker than she once was. But she’s still standing there when I come out a minute later, and this time she looks up at me.
“I came here to see you, Pepper,” she says quietly.
I stiffen. “Why?”
“I wanted to apologize to you for what I did. I was jealous and I handled my jealousy all wrong. I’m really sorry for all the mean things I did.”
Whoa. Totally didn’t see this coming. “Um, thanks?” My mind reels, wondering if she has an ulterior motive. I’m sure she’s heard about Jace breaking up with me, so that can’t still be her goal.
“I also wanted to apologize to Jace. Do you know if he’s here?” she asks.
Now I’m even more suspicious. I don’t think I’ll ever trust this girl. “I don’t know.” Before she can say more, I turn and leave, not caring all that much about her evil plots. I don’t think there’s much she can do to hurt me at this point, at least not when it comes to Jace. I don’t have him so I have nothing to lose.
