Home is Where the Heart Is (Home #1)

by Cheynee Filkov

  She managed to get back on her feet before Jace had made it all the way around the car.

  “Don’t!” she cried out, curling away from his efforts to help her up.

  “What the hell?” he snapped.

  His eyes were not kind now, they were blazing with hurt.

  “I needed some air,” she told him lamely, cradling her arms to her chest as she sank back into reality.

  “Air?” he repeated. “So then crack open a window, turn the AC up, fan yourself with your hand. Don’t just tumble out of my car like I’m some predator trying to cage you in!”

  “I wasn’t – I mean, the door, it was – you scared me, and –”

  His eyes flashed with anger and hurt before he smoothed his features out. With a curt nod he took a step away from her.

  “I’m going to meet up with Matt, I’m super late. Take care of yourself.”

  He turned, and with one swift movement, pulled himself into his car and drove away.

  As soon as he was out of sight, she crouched down on the driveway and gave herself a face palm. So he’d been in the city meeting Matt, and had left his best friend waiting just so he could make sure she got home safely. And what did she do? At the first sign of intimacy she practically threw herself from a stationary vehicle.

  She sighed deeply into her hands. This was not exactly going the way she planned. She was meant to leave the past behind her and lock up her emotions and vulnerabilities so when she started to make new friends no one could get hurt. It was her own fault for giving him the wrong signals - if she’d just drawn the line at friends from day one there would have been no confusion and his near kiss wouldn’t have triggered a flash back.

  So she would just have to make sure she made it up to him with a batch of her choc chip ‘apology cookies’ and the sincere promise that she couldn’t offer much, but she could be the best type of friend to him if he was willing to forgive her little meltdown.

  Plan in place she moved with purpose inside, not even bothering to lock the door behind her.

  “Mum!” she screeched. “I need you to take me to the shops, I need some ingredients!”

  “I’m right here, don’t yell,” her Mum chastised from behind her.

  Isabelle spun around, her whole body tingling with excitement.

  Her Mum’s face fell when she saw her and Isabelle tried to scramble her brain for what she might have done wrong now.

  “Your face…?” her Mum whispered in horror.

  Oh right, Kimberley. Her parents hadn’t seen the damage yet, as Maia had swept her away this morning before they could get a good look at her.

  “Mum, I’m fine,” she said quickly. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

  “Nothing to worry about?”

  “Yeah, I’m not concerned by it. What I am concerned about is our lack of groceries.”

  “What is going on with you?”

  Obviously her diversion tactic was not working.

  “Mum, listen to me, I’m totally fine.”

  “Fresh bruises on your face and you’ve got no explanation? Twice in a month now you have come home from a night out looking like you ran into Mike Tyson and you’re going to stand there and tell me nothing’s going on?”

  “It was an accident. I already had the bruises, so when someone tripped and fell into me, it just made it worse.”

  It burned her a little; the anguish in her Mum’s gaze and the pleading in her voice, but she couldn’t give her what she wanted without destroying the last strands of her sanity she had left.

  Realising Isabelle had no intention of giving her all the details for the previous incident, her Mum moved closer and cupped Isabelle’s jaw, forcing their gazes to meet.

  “Are you taking drugs?”

  Isabelle stared at her for a beat and then burst out laughing. She wished her problems were that simple.

  “This is not a joking matter! Answer my question right now, young lady.”

  “Jesus, Mum, of course I’m not taking drugs. How could you even ask me that? You’re meant to be on my side.”

  Her Mum grabbed her with desperate hands. “I am on your side. I just want to understand you. You used to tell me everything and I just want to know what changed.”

  “I don’t want to fight with you,” she whispered as she met her Mum’s watery gaze. “I’m not taking drugs. Please trust me – I’m doing OK.”

  After a few beats, her Mother nodded, kissed her forehead and wandered off into the next room, obviously still distressed.

  It made her feel like a monster to walk away knowing her Mum was upset and needed her reassurance, but she didn’t have the energy to lie to her parents with some cock and bull they were too smart to fall for. Guilt tore at her insides, and she felt sick at herself.

  She wanted to make things right, but she wasn’t ready to face her Mother’s knowing eyes. Jace first, then.

  She knew he wouldn’t be home for a while yet, but waiting for him sounded more appealing than her own destructive thoughts alone in her room.

  She knocked on his front door hesitantly.

  A few moments later a tall brunette woman with a beautiful but tired face answered the door.

  “Can I help you?”

  Can anyone?

  “Uh, Hi, Mrs Scown, I’m Isabelle. I just moved next door…”

  Mrs Scown’s face lit up. “Oh Isabelle, hello! What can I do for you, honey?”

  “I was just looking for Jace.”

  Mrs Scown eyed her speculatively, and it was clear from the look on her face that she was well aware that Isabelle knew Jace wasn’t home.

  “You just missed him Isabelle,” she told her kindly, although her eyes were sharp with curiosity. “Did you want to come in and wait until he gets back? Although, he could be awhile...”

  Thank God Mrs Scown felt like humouring her craziness.

  “I’ll wait, thanks Mrs Scown.”

  “Please, call me Claire,” she offered as she moved out of the doorway to let Isabelle through.

  Although identical on the outside, inside the Scown’s house was as different to hers as you could get, although it was hard to judge since Isabelle did have a box filled house at the moment.

  Instead of the pristine almost empty feel that her family’s house always possessed, Jace’s was filled with clutter. There were photos of the family hanging everywhere in the front entrance, mainly of Maia and Jace ranging from infants until now. There was a lot of stuff around, but Isabelle liked it, because it had a distinct feel of a well lived in home.

  “You’ll have to excuse the mess,” Claire said apologetically. “Working full time and being a single Mum kind of took priority over my maid skills.”

  Isabelle shook her head, a smile on her face. “It’s not messy at all, I really like it.”

  Claire smiled at her with genuine warmth. “Thanks hon, really sweet of you. How are you finding our little town?”

  Isabelle shrugged. “Everyone’s been really sweet so far, and the weather is great.”

  Claire smiled. “Haven’t really had a chance to make up your mind yet, huh?”

  “Was it that obvious?”

  Claire winked at her. “Talking about the weather is a default for not having anything better to say.”

  Isabelle decided then that she liked Jace’s mum, how her smile was so warm and she seemed open and just… cool.

  “How about I keep you posted?” Isabelle replied.

  “You’ve got yourself a deal. I hope my children have been making you feel welcome?”

  Isabelle blushed, thinking of Jace immediately. Her stomach rolled. “They’ve been really great.”

  Claire watched her intently, searching for something. “Good to hear. Maia tells me Jace seems to have taken a liking to you.”

  Abort, abort, abort! Conversation getting dangerously awkward.

  “He’s been a good friend,” Isabelle said lightly, letting her eyes drift to the staircase.

  “Just be careful
with him, I don’t want anyone hurt,” she warned softly.

  Isabelle snapped her eyes back onto Jace’s mum, furious that she didn’t have more faith in Jace. Her angry reply was cut off by how sad Claire looked.

  “Mrs Scown,” Isabelle began, not entirely sure what she could say but feeling like something needed to be said.

  “Claire,” she cut in firmly. “Jace’s room is the last room on the left, just make yourself at home. Call out if you need anything.”

  She swept out of the room swiftly, leaving Isabelle standing by herself, stunned.

  She could not even imagine what it must be like for Jace to live in a house where his own mother had no faith in him. She thought she had it bad with her parents caring too much. Guess you really don’t know how good you have it until you see how different it could be.

  Shaking some of the tension out of her body she began her ascent up the stairs, taking in the metal bannister and the family photos on the wall. The last photo was cracked, like someone had punched it, and in it was a much younger Claire, her face fresh and without worry. She also saw Maia and Jace when they were maybe twelve, wearing matching blue jumpers, their black hair smooth and shiny. Next to Claire was a man Isabelle knew had to be the twin’s father. Isabelle’s mouth dropped - he looked identical to Jace, down to the lazy smile and startling blue eyes.

  Her heart ached for all of them and she thought she could understand why Claire was so distant to her son. She didn’t know what had gone down, but she could guess it was pretty horrible. It must have been unbelievably awful for Claire to have finally found the courage to leave her husband, only to have her son wearing the same beautiful face that had caused so much pain

  She sighed deeply and moved forward. She didn’t want to be caught by Claire staring at her broken family - things were awkward enough.

  Isabelle walked hesitantly down the hallway, afraid that at any moment she might take the wrong step and everything would come crashing down around her.

  The walls were a muted peach colour, she noted with interest, and instead of carpet they had hard wood floors. She kept her eyes trained on the polished timber as she edged her way down the passage.

  When she could go no further, she took a deep breath and turned to the left, facing a plain white door. It looked oddly out of place with the rest of the décor. She glanced down the hall and saw what could only be Maia’s room as the door was completely plastered in photos.

  How odd that she gained no sense of him at all as she stood at his threshold. Her hand paused by the handle, shaking slightly.

  Oh, for God’s sake Isabelle, he’s not even home! Stop being a wuss and open the damn door, what exactly are you afraid of finding in there?

  She turned the knob and thrust the door open before she could overthink it any further.

  Her eyes widened in shock as she adjusted to her surroundings. It was not at all what she had been expecting to find. The walls were just a basic white with only a few posters up. Weirdly, the posters weren’t of naked girls or bands, they were quotes from the likes of Nelson Mandela, Ghandi and other inspirational people.

  Not one photo was displayed anywhere that she could see.

  There was a double bed pressed against the far wall, with two matching tables on either side. One table had an iPod on it, and the other a few empty beer bottles. She frowned at the bottles - she didn’t like the idea of him drinking alone in this empty, lifeless room.

  She moved around the room cautiously, noticing that there weren’t clothes piled around the floor messily like her room usually had. In fact, even his walk-in closet was kept in perfect condition. She felt sadness overwhelm her.

  What kind of a teenage boy lived in a room like it was a hotel and not a place of safety and security? It felt like he kept this room like a guest room because if he truly made it his own, it meant he couldn’t just pack up and leave if he needed to.

  The only things in his room that gave her any comfort were the flat screen TV on the wall hooked up to a PlayStation 3, with two blue bean bags positioned in front of it, still imprinted with bodies. It was a comfort to see how well used the bean bags were because it meant that he wasn’t always alone.

  She kicked her shoes off and settled herself on the bed, pleased to find it was really comfortable and finally a place where she could feel his presence.

  She turned her head and noticed that his balcony doors were unlocked and the curtains thrown open as wide as possible. She lay her head down on his pillow and saw with clarity that from here, her balcony doors were perfectly visible and that her curtains had been pulled tightly closed. How symbolic that his side was open and welcoming whereas hers was closed and shut off.

  She turned from the window and was struck by the overwhelming scent of Jace. It overtook all her senses and was completely disarming.

  She shifted closer to his pillow as she pulled the sheets over her body, soaking him up. She wondered if her bed smelt distinctly like her and if she even had a specific scent. Was she leaving some kind of mark as she lay on his bed right now?

  She leaned over and grabbed his iPod, put his head phones in, and pressed ‘play’. It was completely intrusive, every part of her being here, but she couldn’t stop herself. She wanted to know more about him; she needed to do more than just scratch the surface so that she could get some proof that she wasn’t crazy for feeling so drawn to him.

  She closed her eyes as The Spill Canvas – Black Dresses began to play. She honestly had no idea what to think of Jace. Everything about him was so unlike any of the guys she’d ever met, that she had no idea what little box to put him in, except for maybe “damaged.” She knew enough about being damaged herself to recognise the signs in others.

  As sleep began to claim her, she swore to herself that she would never be the reason he felt broken. She swore that she would work to try and fix the hole in his heart, and maybe her act of kindness would start to mend hers.

  *

  She awoke not by a shake or a noise but instead with the knowledge that someone was watching her. Jumping out of bed, her arms up in a defensive position, she looked around wildly for her assailant.

  Instead, she found Jace and Matt standing in the door way, Jace with his hands up in surrender and Matt with his mouth open.

  “Didn’t mean to wake you,” Jace said softly, his face still guarded. “Just didn’t expect to find you of all people in my bed.”

  “Any girl being in your bed is kind of a mind warp for me,” Matt quipped.

  You of all people

  It hit her hard those words, and in the little time they’d known each other, it shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did.

  You of all people.

  “Isabelle?”

  She turned her attention back to Jace realising he must have been speaking to her.

  “I’m sorry, what?” she asked.

  “I asked if everything was OK,” he repeated.

  Ah, the million dollar question. The one thing she couldn’t even be honest with herself about, let alone Jace and his best friend.

  “I’m fine,” she told him with a smile. “I’m sorry to just barge in like this, but I really wanted to apologise to you about before.”

  Matt took a step forward so he was effectively between them.

  “Apologise? What did you do?” his words were light but his eyes were hard as he stared at her.

  She peered around him so she was right in Jace’s eye line and she felt even more nervous now, especially because they had an audience.

  “A misunderstanding. Jace, I-”

  “You need to leave,” he said calmly.

  Her eyes snapped up to meet his. “I…I just…”

  “No, not you,” he glanced over at his best friend. “Go see what Maia’s up to, will you? I’ll catch up with you in a bit.”

  Matt’s head flipped between the two of them for a few moments before finally settling on Isabelle. He pegged her with a hard stare that clearly warned her off hurting h
is best friend and then with a big grin, smacked Jace on the arm.

  “Don’t try and get out of having your arse kicked in COD. I’ll be back soon.”

  With a nod to Isabelle he shut the door behind him with a quiet snap.

  Isabelle let go of a breath she didn’t realise she was holding and relaxed her stance a bit, inching a little closer to Jace, who made no move towards her whatsoever.

  “Jace,” she began again, her voice shaking slightly.

  “Isabelle, it’s fine,” he replied without his usual warmth. “You don’t have to explain anything to me.”

  Taking a leap of faith, she crossed the room so they were standing inches apart.

  “I’ve got a lot of wires crossed inside of me,” she whispered. “And it means that I shut down a lot whenever anyone tries to get close or show any kind of interest towards me. I’m sorry about what happened earlier. I don’t ever want to put that look on your face again, especially when you’ve been much kinder to me than I deserve. I just wanted to come over and say that I’m grateful for having you come into my life - and I hope I haven’t completely ruined any chance of us being friends.”

  Jace kept his eyes on her face, searching for what felt like hours. He didn’t make any move to touch her, but his eyes were so intent she felt a flush all through her body, like his stare was caressing her. After what felt like an eternity, his smile broke into a casual grin, and the tension in the room dissipated.

  “That was the prettiest apology I’ve ever received,” he told her. “Although, you didn’t need to apologise for anything.”

  Isabelle opened her mouth to tell him that she hadn’t apologised enough when he cut across her.

  “We’re cool,” he said as he moved forward and slumped into his bean bag, gesturing for her to take the other. “Let’s just chalk it up to a bad day and move forward, ok?”

  Isabelle smiled at him gratefully, easing herself into the second bean bag. “I had planned on making you some apology cookies but our kitchen isn’t fully functional yet.”

  Jace handed her a game controller and then turned the TV onto some sort of war game. “I do love a good cookie but hot girl in my bed is easily just as good.”