The Unloved

by Jennifer Snyder

  Three minutes later there was a loud sizzling noise coming from the kitchen. I’d forgotten about my noodles! That was what I got for cooking on high. I darted to the kitchen, turned the stove off, and set the noodles on a back burner, then headed back to the TV. Suddenly I wasn’t hungry anymore—excitement could do that to a person.

  Twenty minutes passed and I still was on my knees attempting to hook the thing up when a knock sounded at my front door.

  “Come in!” I yelled, my head still behind the TV.

  “Hey, man, you ready?” I heard Blake ask.

  “Yeah, just a second. I’ve almost got this thing hooked up,” I said.

  “Here, let me help. I’ve been through like three of these,” he said, bending down. I slid out of his way and wondered how he could afford three of these.

  Blake worked some magic and in just a few minutes everything was all hooked up. I was amazed. Maybe I should have read the directions.

  “I can let you borrow some games whenever, man. I’ve got a ton,” he said.

  “Cool.”

  “You can borrow mine too if you want,” Quiet Tom said from the doorway.

  Seriously, was I the only person in the world who didn’t have a Wii until now?

  I nodded. “Thanks. We ready?”

  “Yup,” Blake said. “Emily’s just meeting us there. She’s riding with the girls.”

  “All right, let’s head out,” I said as I began flipping lights off. I pulled the front door closed behind me and locked it, then climbed in the backseat of Blake’s car.

  Unable to help myself, I glanced at Jules’ house before we drove away. I hoped she’d be at the party tonight.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  JULIE

  “Ditch the sweater!” Emily shouted at me from the front seat. “I thought you said you were just bringing it for if you got cold later.”

  “I’m a little chilly, is that all right with you?” I asked in a snobbish tone. I didn’t feel comfortable in this tight tank top Tiffany had made me wear. At least I’d still gotten to wear my jeans. They were the ones with the holes in the knees and the frayed pockets. It was funny how some people spent fifty bucks on a pair of jeans like these when all they had to do was wear the crap out of them—they got holey all on their own after a few washes, people.

  “No way, you did not just snap at me over a flipping sweater!” Emily shrieked.

  I chuckled. Seeing Emily all riled up was pretty funny no matter the reason. She was the only person I’d ever known who could raise one eyebrow straight up in the air. “Sorry, I’ll take it off when we get there. Okay?”

  “Fine.” She huffed and I chuckled a little more.

  “Do I take a right or left?” Tiffany asked as she rolled up to a stop sign.

  “Right,” both Emily and I answered at the same time.

  Nervous butterflies swarmed around in my stomach as we neared Drew’s street. I hadn’t been to a party in a while. A long while. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy fun, because I did, on occasion; it was just that no fun could ever come out of drunken teenage boys. Not in my opinion anyway.

  Tiffany turned down Whitman Street and my heart began to pound. Drew’s house was the last one on the left, but even if I hadn’t known that from the few parties of his that I had gone to over the years, the cars lining the street would have been a dead giveaway.

  “Hey, you know who we should have invited?” Tiffany asked as we all climbed out of her car and started toward the house.

  “Who?” Emily answered, stepping over the small ditch Tiffany had come close to parking her back tire in.

  “Luke,” Tiffany said, bumping me with her elbow.

  “Ugh, I don’t think so. Then we’d have to invite Cole and I so do not want to hang out with my brother,” I muttered.

  “Wait!” Emily shouted and turned to face me. “Sweater. Car. Now.”

  I rolled my eyes and pulled it above my head. I’d thought for sure she’d forgotten. She held out her hands and I tossed it to her. Tiffany and I waited while she backtracked to the car.

  “Better.” Emily smiled and locked arms with Tiffany and me, then we all started walking toward the house again.

  Music began to vibrate my insides the closer we got to the door and Tiffany lit up with excitement. I smiled because it was contagious. As we stepped inside eyes darted our way as people scoped out who was entering. I fought with myself to keep my eyes up, but in the end I lost the battle when they reached this guy standing in the middle of the room with a red plastic cup in his hand. They dropped to my shoes like always, embarrassment tinting my cheeks. Eye contact always felt uncomfortable. If you made eye contact with people, they talked to you. Especially guys. And if they talked to you, they hit on you, generally speaking.

  “Come on, let’s find you a drink,” Emily yelled over the music in my ear.

  I nodded and smiled. I wasn’t big on alcohol, not at all, but right now I needed something to calm my nerves before I stepped outside into the fresh air for the remainder of the night to hide in the car. We stepped into the kitchen and that was when I saw him—Nick.

  He stood leaning against the counter, dressed in a pair of faded jeans and a blue and gray T-shirt, holding a bottleneck Bud Light in his hand. He was talking with Blake and Tom. Something funny must have just been said because he broke out into laughter. I just stared, happy to see him laughing, trying to catch the sound of it and tear it apart from the loud noise of the party that surrounded it because it had been so long since I’d heard his laugh.

  “Blake!” Emily shouted and dropped my arm as she rushed forward like it had been years since she’d last seen him and not hours.

  Tiffany slipped her arm free of mine and muttered something about some guy named Trent before walking away. I was left standing there feeling naked without my sweater, without my friends on either arm, still staring at Nick when I knew I’d already reached the creepy stalker point of retreat.

  His eyes met mine and I felt my heart stop and then restart. A slow smile twisted up the corners of his lips as he raised his beer to them for a sip, his eyes never leaving mine. I chewed on my bottom lip and walked to the counter to lean against it.

  “Hey, babe,” Blake said, kissing Emily on the cheek. “Wanna beer?”

  “Sure,” she said.

  “Julie, you want one, too?” Blake asked me.

  I jerked my eyes from Nick and nodded in response to Blake. He reached into the fridge behind him and pulled out two Bud Lights for us. I took mine and attempted to twist the top off, but it felt like it was ripping my skin so I stopped.

  “Here, let me help you,” Nick offered, stepping beside me.

  I gazed into his hazel eyes and handed my beer to him. “Thanks.”

  He twisted the top off with one swift motion and handed it back to me with a smile. I put it to my lips and took a couple of large swigs.

  “I didn’t think you were the drinking type, at least I don’t remember you being that way,” he said, eyeing me.

  The way he looked at me, it was like he still knew me, like he knew I was only drinking because I was nervous, like he could see right through me.

  A sudden urge to prove to him that he didn’t know me as well as he thought he still did surged to life inside me.

  “I didn’t think you’d be the drinking type either, and yet here you are, beer in hand. And the girl you remember was fifteen. People change,” I said before tipping the bottle back up and adding life hardens you mentally. I didn’t know why I sounded so snippy, or why I suddenly felt unnerved. I just did.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  NICK

  I hated the way that she’d said that, like I didn’t know her at all. That thought crushed me. I wanted to know her. I wanted to know who she was now, two years later. I wanted to know who she would be in the future. I wanted to always know her. Forever.

  “Sometimes,” I said unable to tear my eyes from her bright green ones. “Sometimes not.”

&nbs
p; Her cheeks flushed and her eyes dropped to the checkered tiled floor. I suppressed a smile, knowing I’d probably piss her off if she saw it, but I took this moment to check her out. Jules had always been pretty to me, but every time I’d seen her since I’d been back she’d been wearing a baggy sweater or a hoodie jacket that covered her up completely. Tonight, she’d ditched it and I was able to finally see the slender frame and petite curves in all the right places I’d been envisioning.

  The yellow tank top she wore was tight fitting and dipped down in a U shape at the front. From where I stood, at about six inches taller than her, I had a pretty good view if I angled my head just right.

  “And now the real party can begin!” some guy shouted and Jules snapped her head to the voice like it had startled her. Her long auburn hair had whipped across her shoulder in her ponytail and I wished she’d worn it down, just this once. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen it down.

  “Great,” Emily said, rushing to Jules’ side. “I’m sorry. I had no idea that dickhead would be here.”

  I blinked, coming back to the here and now. Jules’ body had tensed and she put her lips to her beer, downing nearly all of it in one gulp.

  “Yeah, well he is,” Jules muttered.

  “Maybe he won’t see you. Maybe he’s just making a deal real quick,” Emily offered.

  “Doesn’t look like it,” Blake said, his body growing tense and his eyes hard as he glared around the kitchen corner at someone I couldn’t see. I took this as my cue to prepare myself for something bad.

  “Who? What’s going on?” I asked, adrenaline starting to pump through my veins at Jules’ reaction to whoever it was.

  “Vincent, my ex. Things didn’t end too well between us,” Jules said. Heartbreak shimmered in her eyes and I hated the guy instantly without ever having seen him.

  “He’s such a jerk, Julie. You could do so much better,” Emily said, her eyes shifting toward me and I wondered if Jules even noticed.

  A dark-haired guy a little older than me stepped into the kitchen, and I swore I saw all of the breath go out of Jules’ lungs at once. This must have been him, dickhead Vincent. He was headed straight for the fridge, obviously making himself at home, but when he caught sight of Jules he stopped. A devilish smile crept onto his face, and I would have loved to extend my arm out at that moment and smack it off.

  “Well, well. Look who decided to ditch the sweater and show some skin,” Vincent said, slowly making his way to Jules. “Wish you’d have worn shit like that when we were dating.”

  Jules didn’t respond, instead she glared at the guy, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the beer bottle in her hand tighter.

  “And you’re drinking a beer. Where was this side of you when we were together?” Vincent asked. He encircled her with his arms. She tried to slip out of his grip but he wouldn’t let her. “I would have liked to have seen her come out and play.”

  “Get off me, Vincent,” Jules muttered, craning her neck to turn her head away from him.

  “Aw, come on, Julie,” Vincent pouted. He hunkered down so that his eyes were directly even with hers, had she been looking at him, and ran a hand along her cheek. “You know you miss me.”

  “Hardly,” Jules said as she shifted around again, unsuccessfully, in her second attempt to get loose from his grip.

  “Let her go, Vincent,” Emily snapped. “Don’t you have some pathetic girl waiting by her phone for you to call so that she can screw you for her drugs as payment?”

  “Nope.” Vincent paused and flashed Jules a slight smirk. “I just left Julie’s mama’s house.”

  Anger burned through me. Who the hell did this guy think he was talking to Jules like that? I stepped forward to knock the guy on his ass, but Jules beat me to it with a knee straight to his groin.

  Vincent dropped to his knees in front of her like he’d been shot and I busted out in laughter. I hadn’t known my girl had had it in her to do something like that. Maybe she was right when she’d said people change. She sure as shit had.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  JULIE

  I don’t know what possessed me to do it; maybe it had been because I’d seen Nick moving toward Vincent from the corner of my eye and I didn’t want him to get hurt, or maybe it was just simply because I’d had enough of Vincent’s shit—either way, kneeing Vincent had felt freeing. I stood there in complete shock, staring at him as he rolled around on the tiled floor. Did anyone realize that what he’d said about my mom hadn’t been some pun due to her choice of profession, that it had been the truth?

  The adrenaline from what I’d just done and the mortification from Vincent outing his dealings with my mother swirled through my mind, canceling each other out and leaving me feeling numb. The sound of Nick’s laughter startled me and I glanced at him.

  “Nice,” he said.

  “Seriously,” Blake agreed with a wince.

  “Wow, I’m shocked by you right now, Julie Porter!” Emily added, staring at me all wide-eyed.

  I sat the empty beer bottle I’d been gripping tightly down on the counter and walked out of the kitchen. I kept going until I felt the cool night air touch my bare arms. Tiffany’s car came into view and before I knew it, the cold handle to the back door was being gripped in my hand and I was opening it.

  “Jules, wait up. Are you okay?” Nick asked from behind me.

  I didn’t respond. Instead I reached for my sweater and pulled it on.

  “Hey,” he said as he stopped in front of me. His hand reached out and gripped my forearm. “Are you okay?” Concern pooled in the depths of his hazel eyes.

  “That is why I always wear a freaking sweater, because if I don’t, it draws attention to me like that!” I snapped, pulling my arm free and tugging the sleeves over my hands. I wrapped my arms around myself and shifted my eyes to the ground.

  “What are you talking about?” he wondered, but I could tell when I glanced up that he knew. He remembered what living in my house had been like. He had to.

  “I didn’t get to move away Nick and come back to have things be better for me. I’ve been stuck here, trapped, as the things in my house got worse.” I didn’t know why I was telling him any of this. I didn’t even know what I was saying. Had I finally cracked?

  Tears pricked my eyes as I stood there. I was torn as to whether they were from embarrassment at having Nick stare at me the way that he was, or from Vincent because he’d basically just told everyone, including Nick, that he was screwing my pill-head mother for payment. He’d confirmed my nightmarish thought in front of everyone! My fucking ex-boyfriend, the guy who I’d let take my virginity, was screwing my mom now. My stomach lurched and I thought I might vomit.

  “Come here.” Nick held out his arms and drew me into him. “I know you didn’t. I’m sorry.”

  I let him hold me. This was what I’d always let him do—comfort me—but it felt different now. Being in his arms felt more than safe; it felt good, too. I closed my eyes and inhaled his scent—the scent of his deodorant, the newness of his shirt—and relaxed. For the first time in a long time I was able to relax at the feel of someone’s touch.

  “There you guys are,” Emily said from behind us. “Vincent is on the warpath. I think it would be best if we just left.”

  I took a step back, releasing myself from the sanctuary of Nick’s arms, and nodded to Emily in response.

  “What did I miss?” Tiffany asked as she bounded out the front door.

  “Julie kneeing Vincent in the nuts,” Emily answered excitedly.

  “No freaking way! How the hell did I miss that?” Tiffany’s eyes grew wide as her lips stretched into a large smile.

  “Easy, you were probably off playing tonsil hockey with some random guy,” I said, wishing everybody would just drop it as I slid into the backseat.

  I moved to close the door behind me, but Nick stood in the way. I leaned out and glanced up at him; his face was shadowed but the emotions in his eyes were still clear to me—he
was concerned, worried, and a little pissed off.

  “Scoot over,” he said and I did.

  Tiffany and Emily stared at him as he slid into the seat beside me and closed the door. I noticed a slight smile prick at the corners of Emily’s lips and for the first time the entire night it dawned on me that I had been set up. Emily had wanted Nick and me together; that was what tonight and my not wearing a sweater had been about.

  “Think Blake and Tom will be upset with me if I catch a ride home from you guys?” Nick asked.

  “Nah, I’ll text him,” Emily said, already pulling out her cell.

  Nick leaned back against the seat and I turned toward the window. He reached for my hand and laced his fingers between mine without ever looking at me as Tiffany pulled away from the curb and started toward our street. I didn’t let go. I didn’t even flinch. I simply let the warmth of Nick’s skin press against mine and the comfort of his touch flow through me freely like earlier.

  I’d missed him. I’d missed having someone who knew every detail about me and my horrible life and still didn’t judge me or pity me. But there was a fine line now. I could feel it being drawn in the sand between us, a line between friendship and love. A line I wasn’t sure I was ready to cross with Nick, but I also knew deep down I’d regret it later in life if I never did. My heart pounded as I thought about that line.

  Nick moved his thumb gently across the top of mine and warmth surged through me. I risked a glance at him and found him staring at me. When our eyes met he smiled and my heart dropped to my stomach like a plummeting rock. He felt it, too; I could see it in his eyes.

  Fear of past hurt repeating itself clung to my happy thoughts until it pulled them down and drowned them in the ocean of pain that always churned inside of me. I couldn’t be with Nick like that; he knew too much about me. Those were the ones who could hurt you the most—the ones who knew the most about you, because you’d already opened the door and let them in. I knew this from past experience. I also knew my heart wouldn’t be able to handle that type of hurt from him.