Left to her own devices, Jenna couldn’t mask the pain. Betrayed by her two best friends together felt like the universe kicking her in the gut and then disemboweling her for fun. If she believed in reincarnation, she’d have been certain she’d been a puppy-kicking, mass-murdering bigot.
She needed some air. From the driveway she looked up into the clear night sky, dazzled by the myriad stars, made more ethereal with her breath. Puffs of freezing smoke drifted across her vision. She walked to the end of the driveway to get a better look. She tripped over a box, falling to the ground with all the grace of a hippo on ice.
Sharp pain forced a scream from her lungs. She looked around, embarrassed. No one saw her fall. Suddenly she began to giggle. She giggled at her clumsiness. She laughed at herself being more concerned that someone saw her make a fool of herself than her own pain. She guffawed at the absurdity of the whole scene, of her life, of being in this place. She laughed until her cheeks were covered in frozen tears and her sides hurt.
Then she picked up the box. The label, written in familiar handwriting read: It’s time. -Zach. Back inside the cabin, she opened it, revealing a brand new cell phone. She smiled, turning it over in her hand. He attached a case with a picture of a vintage camera and a packet of sticky crystals for her bedazzling pleasure. The card inside said:
Jenna,
You’ve come a long way and now you’re ready to make it back to the 21st century. Anya helped get your old number back. Hope you like the case. I couldn’t bring myself to put those pink crystals on, but I know you love them.
Zach
She beamed. Like a kid on Christmas morning, she ripped through the packaging, assembling her new toy. The screen lit up as it came to life, informing her that her mailbox was full. She figured now was as good a time as any to clean it up. Since she wasn’t ready to be on speaking terms with either Airika or Alex, she could at least hear their messages groveling for forgiveness.
Twenty minutes later, her smile faded, a dark cloud forming over her head. At least half the messages were from Anya or Felicity, usually hanging up quickly, remembering to call her at the cabin. The other half was from Alex. Most from the first day, asking her to talk to him, to hear him out. Later, they got more desperate and pathetic. The last couple didn’t even sound like him. Part of her wanted to call and check on him, make sure he was okay. That made up the smaller part and she opted to let him suffer a little longer.
She was in no mood to soothe anyone. Airika hadn’t called or texted at all. Not one message in two weeks. They used to speak at least twice a day. The longest they’d ever gone without each other was maybe a day or two. But even then, they usually emailed.
Her best friend hadn’t so much as called, let alone apologized. Bitch! The only conclusion she could draw from that was even worse than what Airika did with Alex. Jenna realized, with a sinking heart, that if Airika wasn’t talking to her, she was talking to someone else. Jenna had been replaced. As the thought settled in for the long haul, Jenna’s mood plummeted. Did my friendship really mean that little to her?
All those sleepovers, the lemonade stands they’d run together, the partying and getting into clubs with their bad fake ID’s, the endless talks about boys and clothes—had it been one-sided? She’d been a generic celebutante friend, a seat filler, no one special, except that she had a dreamy husband.
The truth of it shook her to the core. It was so clear. Occam’s razor. Her legs felt like jelly. The couch swallowed her up as her life flashed before her eyes, like a person on the brink of death. But instead of the memories she thought she had, they flashed before her, rewinding the best friend parts, replacing them with images of her mortal enemy. How could she have been so stupid?
Chapter 34
Jenna awoke still feeling wound up. She thrashed around in bed for a while, to no avail. Thunk! She looked over the edge to see what fell. It was a frame she hadn’t noticed before, an old photo of Alex and Zach on either side of her, sandwiching her. She set it face down on the nightstand.
Something else caught her eye in the open suitcase. No, she thought. But she needed an outlet, and she hadn’t even worked out since she’d been in Tahoe. It’s not like I’m getting it anywhere else, she thought, pulling The Rabbit out of the bag.
As she leaned into her pillows, starting to relax and enjoy herself, Alex’s head popped in her mind. She didn’t want to kill her momentum so she tried to focus, to think of something else to keep her in the mood. Zach’s face appeared in her mind’s eye, she envisioned his chest, wet and naked, like that summer. The memories turned into moving images in her head, as she mentally lived out her younger self’s fantasy. He was so hot—strong and sensitive to her needs at the same time. Soon she felt herself heating up, getting close.
It took a minute for the sound of her new phone’s ring to register. She picked up too late and voicemail got it first. She chucked it on the bed and tried to regain her happy fantasy.
“Jenna? You home?” Zach called.
Startled, she shot up out of bed, Rabbit falling to the floor, the sound of the vibration getting louder. She tried to find a shirt to throw on so he didn’t burst in on her, naked. “Just a sec.” She said, frantic to stop the damn thing. Where is the off button?
“I tried to call first,” he said, getting closer to her bedroom door.
Running out of time, Jenna threw the convulsing creature at the hardwood floor with all her strength. It had a mind of its own, flopping around on the boards. The cruelty of being robbed of an orgasm by the threat of being humiliated sapped her ability to think straight.
She heard Zach just outside the door certain he could hear the taunting buzz. Before she realized what she was doing, it was silent. Bludgeoned to death by stiletto. Like a deranged, blue-balled Elmer Fudd, she had killed The Rabbit.
“You okay?” Zach turned the doorknob and she kicked The Rabbit under the bed, just in time. He poked his head in her room, frowning at the stiletto still in her hand. She looked at it, and shrugged. “Spider,” she said.
She stood up and pulled the edges of her sleep shirt down with one hand while smoothing her out of control hair with the other. She suddenly felt light-headed and saw stars. Zach reached out to steady her. She took a deep breath and looked up at him. He took an appraising look and grinned.
“You wanna get some breakfast?” Zach said, smiling.
“Sure. Give me a minute to change and … do my hair.”
“Watch out for those spiders,” he said, turning to head back to the living room.
She watched him go, trying not to pay attention to the way his shoulders filled his shirt or how touchable his curls looked. She definitely wasn’t picturing the rest of him naked beneath those clothes.
What’s wrong with me? She chided herself in the mirror, her flushed cheeks making her normally pale skin look even paler. Her blue eyes had a glassy look to them and her hair … what to do with that rat’s nest? She didn’t want to take the time to flat iron her now kinky curls so she brushed and braided it, then added a beanie, for good measure.
She looked out at the platinum colored sky, threatening snow. She threw on some (mostly) clean clothes and took one more deep breath.
Zach was uncharacteristically chatty on the drive to the restaurant. He grilled her about Noelle, photography, asked if she’d gone skiing yet. She found his enthusiasm infectious and soon her mood, like the clouds, parted, revealing a beautiful day.
Their conversation was easy, relaxing. He told her about his latest project, the difficulties of shooting videos in the backcountry where the weather was volatile and equipment failures ruin entire weeks’ work. Despite his venting, it was obvious how much he loved what he did. At the restaurant, she asked him questions and he answered, illustrating points with his hands, occasionally jumping up from his seat to clarify or demonstrate. She laughed and lapped up Noelle’s praise, delivered via Zach in the same manner.
Two hours later, full and happy, they drove back
to the cabin.
“Coffee?” she asked.
“Sure.”
As they sat down on the couch the atmosphere shifted. She became hyper-aware of his proximity, his smell, shampoo and laundry detergent, and wondered if the shift was in her head or not. She got up to make coffee. She raised her eyebrows, lifting a mug in his direction. He nodded.
“Sugar?”
“Yes, Love?” He said, affecting a terrible British accent. She rolled her eyes. “Looks like you’re a popular lass. A message awaits your ladyship.” He said, pointing to her new phone, vibrating on the coffee table.
She traded him his coffee for her phone, enjoying the flirtatious banter, and sucked in a breath when his hands grazed hers in the exchange. She clicked the voicemail button to distract herself.
“What’s the matter?” He asked, losing the accent.
“It’s not important,” she lied.
They drank their coffee in silence. Finally, Zach jumped up and held up one finger. He ran outside and she heard his car door open and shut. He came back inside waving a DVD.
“Yours?” she asked. She wanted to see the film he’d told her so much about, but dreaded the idea of hating it and having to figure out what to say.
He nodded. She grabbed it from him and popped it in the DVD player. They settled onto the couch, sitting just a little closer than was absolutely necessary. Or maybe that was her imagination.
The opening credits rolled over a montage of skiers hucking themselves off impossibly steep cliffs, tumbling down the mountain in a series of painful-looking crashes. An adrenaline-inducing rock song played over the top, one she didn’t recognize.
“Who is this?” She asked.
“Me.”
“No. The song.”
“Me,” he said.
“It’s good.” She paid closer attention to the hip-hop kicks layered with electric guitars with just the right amount of distortion: enough to avoid being douche-rock, but not so much to make it indecipherable noise. He smiled at the back-handed compliment, happy she liked it.
She watched intently, listening to skiers talk about waiting for snow and chasing the weather around the world on an endless search for the perfect run. She chanced a glance or two at Zach, looking away when he caught her.
She was struck by their passion. It was inspiring, how much fun they had, making the best of every situation, whether or not conditions cooperated. She envied their ability to enjoy life when things didn’t go their way.
Not a skier herself, and not having spent much time watching extreme sports films, she was awed by how far these athletes were willing to go. They jumped out of helicopters, hiked up mountains with heavy gear, waited out storms, built jumps, and still managed to find new and interesting angles to capture their gravity-defying feats. By the end, she’d forgotten her earlier skepticism and said, without hesitation, “Amazing.”
“You think?” he smiled, and she could have sworn he blushed beneath his stubble.
“Definitely,” she said, nudging his shoulder with hers.
He turned to her, smiling, and leaned into her shoulder so that their upper arms were pressed flush against each other. She felt the warmth of his skin, and his forearm hairs tickled her skin where she’d rolled up her sleeves when she made coffee. Her pulse quickened and she felt nervous, not sure whether she wanted something to happen or dreaded it.
“Can I ask you something?” he asked, his face inches from hers.
“Of course,” she breathed.
“Did you get the postcard I sent you? That summer you went to Europe?”
The handwriting! She knew it was familiar. But … that postcard was from Alex. It was his way of saying he wasn’t over her. If she’d been wrong about that, then Airika had been telling the truth. As deluded as she was, she’d thought Alex and Jenna were broken up and she took her shot. They were together. The only reason he chose Jenna was that she got pregnant.
Her righteous indignation returned and as the what-ifs pummeled her, she suddenly wondered why Zach wrote to her.
“That was you?” she asked. He nodded. “Why?”
“I liked you.” He said it as though it were the simplest thing in the world. And she supposed it was. She looked up at him, his eyes wide, earnest. She didn’t know what to say. She gazed at him and felt the earlier excitement flood her bloodstream, igniting latent feelings she didn’t know she’d suppressed. He leaned in, resting his forehead on hers, their noses touching. Her chest heaved, unable to normalize her breathing. She closed her eyes, savoring the feeling. She’d married her first boyfriend but she felt a pang of nostalgia for a life she could have led.
What would her life have been like if she’d chosen Zach? You could find out now, a voice said. She looked up into his brown eyes, and saw her desire reflected in them. Before she could stop herself, she kissed him—a soft kiss, with a closed mouth, lingering just longer than could be considered European.
She pulled away and the electric atmosphere changed again. Her body tingled with desire and excitement, her nerve endings over-sensitized. He stayed where he was, his interest evident, but he didn’t make another move. Then, like a bolt of lightning, it hit her.
“Did you know? About Alex and Airika?”
“Yes.”
Instantly she pulled away from him. Her mind reeled. He knew! He knew and he didn’t tell me! Everyone claimed to care about her, to worry about her feelings, but not one of them thought she had a right to know what was going on. “Argh!” A primeval scream escaped her lungs and she grabbed her hair with both hands.
Zach’s phone rang. He glanced at her and then at it, and seemed to decide she needed a minute. He answered it, excusing himself outside. As soon as the door closed, she started mentally listing all the ways she’d been wronged. All the ways they’d betrayed her. All the things that hadn’t gone right.
So what? An annoying little voice in her head interrupted. Excuse me? She replied (surely, talking to herself wasn’t a huge worry at this point). What part did you play in it not working out? This voice was really starting to piss her off.
It had a point, though. She could have asked more questions. She could have asked Alex what made him change his mind, what he’d done all summer. She could have confronted Airika when she’d acted weird or bitchy when she talked about Alex. And she could have told Alex she wanted to work. She could have done a lot of things.
But what had she done instead? She got mad and ran off. Her train of thought drifted as she saw the time she’d been spending with Zach through Alex’s eyes. He wouldn’t have liked it. She hated the idea of him having the level of desire she’d just been feeling for someone else. Oh God, I’m married!
She’d had no trouble hanging on to the anger she felt for Alex and Airika, but in mere weeks, she’d been able to behave as if she was a single twenty something just enjoying herself and spending time with an old crush. She ran a mental inventory of all the breakfasts and talks and heart to hearts she’d had with Zach that, if Alex had been able to see them, would have been unacceptable.
Zach came back inside, lurking in the entryway. Jenna stood up, ready to apologize. Something in his demeanor stopped her.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“Yeah. But you need to talk to Alex,” he said, not looking at her.
“Why? Was that him? What did he say?”
“No. It was Airika. She said he’s a mess and he needs to talk to you. He’s your husband, Jenna. You should call him.” He looked up at her, his jaw clenched. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He was acting like nothing had happened between them.
She felt sufficiently shamed by her revelation, but the fact that Airika was telling her to call her husband ignited a fury that surpassed embarrassment. And why was Zach passing along her messages?
“No offense, but it’s none of your business whether or not I talk to my husband.”
“You’re right. It’s not. But I’m trying to be your friend. And as you
r friend, I think I should go and you should talk to Alex.” He snatched his jacket from the couch, fists clenched at his sides. He took a deep breath and looked up at her. “We all made our choices, Jenna. There are always consequences.” He looked like he was going to say something more, but decided against it. He turned and walked out, leaving her alone and reeling, more confused than ever.
Chapter 35
Jenna wanted to talk to someone—someone she could vent to who would hear her out, and offer sound unbiased advice. She ran through a mental friend checklist.
There was Stephanie Schroeder, but they stopped being friends in fourth grade when Stephanie moved to another school district. Jenna wanted to keep in touch, but Airika convinced her Stephanie would have been too busy with all her new friends. At the time, Jenna was devastated. Now, she felt Airika’s knife twist a little deeper in her back.
There was Maggie Day, the other girl that got knocked up in high school. They’d had Lamaze together and took a class to prep them for motherhood. It was one of those classes meant to prepare you for the world of parenting and the difficulties you were about to face. It was mostly Reverse Birth Control: all fear inducing and wouldn’t-it-have-been-smarter-to-just-use-a-condom talks. Genius.
At the time, Maggie and Jenna laughed at the ridiculous stories and compared notes as to why their lives would never be as pathetic as the guest speakers’ were.
After Maggie’s baby daddy left her to take care of the other girl he’d gotten pregnant a few months before the birth, they’d drifted apart. It got awkward to hang out because Jenna felt guilty about how great things turned out for her. She thought of how difficult it must have been for Maggie all those years ago. A pang of guilt ripped through her. She made a mental note to try to find Maggie and catch up with her again. Maybe all these years later it would be fun.
Rock My World Page 14
