All Pepped Up (Pepper Jones #2)

by Ali Dean

  He walks back to me with the phone and hands it to me. “It was Ethan Lawrence.”

  I look at the screen. Sure enough, there’s a message from Ethan telling Madeline that the team just got to the school parking lot, and Jace is going straight home.

  “Who’s Ethan?” I ask. Not that it matters.

  “The only freshman on the team. I’ll give him a break this time. He probably didn’t know he was playing with fire.”

  Jace tosses her the phone and she fumbles it, dropping it on the sidewalk.

  He takes my hand and tugs me inside, shutting the door on Madeline Brescoll and leaving her behind us.

  I wrap my arms around Jace’s neck. “I missed you,” I tell him. And I don’t just mean over this weekend, but throughout the week. Ever since the video was sent.

  “I know.” Jace’s face lights up. “You’re like this little fireball of confidence. It’s a sexy look on you.”

  I lean my head back and press my hips further into his. “I had some revelations this weekend.”

  “I noticed.” Jace’s eyes darken and his hands move down lower on my back, resting at the top of my jeans.

  “Mmmhmm. I don’t just have a newfound confidence in dealing with Mad-Evil Brescoll, but I also rediscovered my competitive spirit.”

  He lifts me up with a grin and I wrap my legs around his waist as he carries me down the stairs to his bedroom.

  He asks me about my race while peeling off my jeans. I quickly become too distracted to focus.

  “It sounds like you deserve a leg massage after a race like that. Maybe a butt massage too.” He hooks his fingers in my panties and tugs them down to join the pile with my jeans. Then he kisses my hip and gets to know each and every one of my muscles from the waist down.

  ***

  Later that night, Jace makes grilled cheese sandwiches while I watch him from the kitchen counter.

  “Did you have any idea that Mad-Evil was so crazy?” I ask him.

  Jace takes my cheeks in his hands and brushes his nose with mine. “Mad-Evil, huh? Cute.” He slices my sandwich in half and hands it to me. “If I’d known she was so obsessed, I would have handled it differently. And I definitely wouldn’t have touched her in the first place.”

  “Do you think she sent that video?” I ask before taking a bite.

  He leans against the counter next to me and crosses his arms.

  “I don’t know.”

  We don’t talk about how it took me a week to decide I believed him, or what made me come around. Maybe the cheesy advice from Annie did the trick, I don’t know. I do know that I really didn’t want to face a world without Jace. And if he cheated on me, I’m not sure I’d be able to forgive him.

  “What happened to the kitchen stools that used to be here?” I wonder.

  “We’re getting new ones.”

  “You could have kept the old ones until then. I liked those chairs. You could spin around on them.”

  “I kind of destroyed them in a moment of frustration,” Jace admits.

  I raise my eyebrows in a question.

  He blows out a sigh and looks at the ceiling. “I was pretty angry when you left the house.” He turns to face me. “Not at you. I get why you did. But then when Wes went running after you… it took a lot of self-control not to stop you. I guess I went a little crazy.”

  I imagine Jim witnessing Jace’s outburst. “Your dad didn’t stop you.”

  “He tried for a minute and then I guess he figured I needed to let it all out. Better the furniture than a person, right?”

  The doorbell rings, and I jump at the noise. “If that’s Mad-Evil,” I start to say. But we hear Wes’s voice when he opens the door.

  “Hey, lovebirds! You aren’t naked, are you?” he calls out.

  “We’re in the kitchen,” Jace responds. “Clothed!” he adds.

  I roll my eyes.

  “I’ve got some news,” he announces before hopping up on the other end of the counter. “Still haven’t replaced the stools?” he asks Jace.

  Jace smacks him lightly on the back of the head. “Fuck off.”

  “What’s your news?” I bring them back on track.

  “Wolfe, the sick fuck, sent the video,” he says coolly, like he didn’t just deliver a pretty major revelation. “Can you make me a grilled cheese too?”

  “How’d you figure that out?” Jace asks as he slices up more cheddar cheese.

  “I thought of who your enemies were, and he’s the only one screwed up enough to do something like that.” He pauses before adding, “Though I guess some girls out there might be obsessed enough.” He shakes his head at that disturbing thought. “Anyway, took a bunch of guys with me to Wolfe’s place last night. He was there. High with some chick. We got ahold of his phone, but there wasn’t a video. So we looked on his laptop and sure enough, it was saved in his files. It was taken last September, according to the computer file, by the way.” He says this last bit like it’s insignificant information, even though we all know it’s anything but. I’d already decided to trust Jace, but man does it feel good to have confirmation.

  “Maybe he had the video but didn’t send it?” I wonder. Yeah, I guess Annie was right. I’m a thinker.

  “Did you ever get ahold of the girl whose phone it was sent from?” Jace asks.

  “Wait, you found out whose cell phone it was?” I ask.

  “Yeah, we had a buddy trace it,” Wes tells me. “We’d never heard of the girl who owned the phone.”

  “Okay, James Bond, continue,” I say, gesturing with my hand. “Did the girl know Wolfe?”

  “At first she said no. But when we told her when the video was sent, she said some guy hit on her at a bar that night, asked for her phone number to call her later, and took an obscenely long time entering his own number into her phone. He said his name was Will, but when she looked for his number in her phone later, it wasn’t there.”

  “And ‘Will’ had a shaved head and forehead scar just like Wolfe, I take it?” Jace asks.

  “Yup.”

  “So now we need to handle Wolfe,” Jace says darkly.

  “Already handled,” Wes tells him. He points to the grilled cheese on the skillet. “Is that ready?”

  Jace picks it up and hands it to him on a spatula.

  “What do you mean you already handled it?” Jace sounds irritated.

  “Relax, man. The main priority isn’t retaliation, but getting the fucker out of our lives, right?” Wes asks, hands up in surrender.

  “We could have both,” Jace answers. His jaw is clenched tight and I know he’s already thinking of his next move.

  “Hold it. The guy’s crazy. I don’t want to fuck with him and have him haunting me. Better to have something on him so he’ll stay away. Recording that shit without your consent is a felony. Plus there’s all kinds of civil shit you could go after him for.”

  Jace mulls this over. “I’d disagree that he shouldn’t get away without retaliation. But he knows about Pepper now. And I don’t want to risk him coming after her.”

  “Does Mad-Evil know it was Wolfe?” I ask.

  Wes throws his head back in laughter. “You mean Brescoll? No, she doesn’t know. Let’s keep it that way.”

  “Yeah, she’s as crazy as Wolfe. Who knows what she’d do? I just want this whole thing to be over with.”

  Jace puts his hands on my waist and pulls my legs around his hips. “It will be, Pep. No more fucking drama, okay?”

  I smile and repeat his words. “No more fucking drama.”

  He laughs and leans in to speak softly in my ear, “I never thought you’d have to go through all this because you’re my girlfriend, Pep. But you’ve handled it like a badass and I’m so proud of you.”

  His hot breath on my skin and the sincerity of his words make me squirm closer to him, wishing we were alone.

  “Guys? Can you keep your hands off each other for two minutes?” Wes asks in mock anger. There’s no mistaking the happiness on his face, tho
ugh, when we turn to face him. I wonder if my friendship with Wes would have ended again if Jace and I broke up.

  “Man, Pep, it’s a good thing you didn’t drag that out any longer. Jace was driving me nuts. He’s like a girl with his emotions when it comes to you.” Wes shoves the rest of his grilled cheese into his mouth while keeping an eye on Jace in anticipation of another smack on the back of his head. But Jace doesn’t seem inclined to pull away from me.

  “Did you just dis girls?” I ask him in a threatening tone.

  “Noooo… You’re just taking it that way,” Wes talks through a mouthful of food.

  “Girls destroy furniture when they get upset?” Jace asks.

  “Not this girl,” I point to myself. “I run.”

  “That you do,” Wes says. I think we’re all reflecting on the snowstorm incident.

  “You know,” Jace comments. “I tried the running thing last week. Definitely didn’t make me feel better.”

  “What about when you found me on the trail? That didn’t help cheer you up?”

  “A little better, but that was you, not the running. And I could tell you were still all bummed out and hurt so that didn’t make me feel great.”

  “Yeah,” I say on a sigh.

  “Yeah,” he repeats.

  But that’s all behind us now.

  Chapter 22

  After standing up to Madeline, it feels like nothing can come between Jace and me. Until that point, I was happy enough that we’d taken our friendship to the next level, but I think I struggled with how long it would last. I guess it was the “it’s too good to be true” thing. There was always a little nagging doubt in my head, wondering if Jace would get tired of being in a relationship with me, or frustrated with monogamy. After all, despite his physical experience, I’m still his first girlfriend.

  My doubts are gone now. And the more I reflect on it, the more I realize it wasn’t so much Jace’s past that fueled my lack of faith in us, but my own insecurities.

  On the track before the last race of the two-day State meet, I shake out my arms and legs. It’s a new thing I just started doing before races. It makes me feel like I’m shaking off the bad energy, any lingering insecurities. Yeah, I guess I have those on the track, too.

  The leg and arm shake seemed to do the trick before the 4 x 800 last night. It was my first time running on the UC track. The college opened their facilities for the high school State Championship.

  We placed third in the 4 x 800 – much better than we’d hoped. First place in the DMR is an ambitious goal, but we’re fired up after the win at Districts two weeks ago, and for my part, I’m willing to lay it all out there.

  Jenny and Zoe have switched relay legs. Jenny will be leading us out in the 1200, and Zoe’s racing the 800. Jenny’s faster in both events, and we can use that more to our advantage if she runs a longer leg. It will probably only gain us a second or two, but that’s usually what it comes down to.

  Jenny killed it in the finals for the mile earlier today, placing fifth amongst a highly competitive field. Her awesome race seems to have psyched her up for the relay, and she bounces on her feet before toeing the starting line with the rest of the first-leg relay runners.

  Jenny surges forward and leads the pack for the first two laps before fatigue catches up to her. Runners start to pass her and she loses the lead. I was worried this would happen. She’s starting to feel the effects from racing in the mile preliminaries and 4 x 800 yesterday, and then the mile finals again this morning. Despite how small she is, Jenny is one tough cookie. I can see her falter, getting ready to give in to the exhaustion, but she hangs on to the back of the lead pack as they round the last straightaway. She doesn’t let anyone else pass her and I admire her determination.

  Zippy takes off with the baton with four other runners just barely ahead. The top five relays have put a solid distance between the rest of the field. Zippy also had a packed two days of racing, but she’s a senior with a lot of experience. She’s done the multiple-day racing challenge before and proven she’s got stamina.

  One of the runners can’t keep up with the quick pace and by the time the 400 leg comes around the curve to pass off the baton, there are only 4 teams in the lead pack.

  Zoe raced the 2-mile yesterday but she’s been laying low with me all day, waiting in anticipation for the DMR. She’s got a decent 800, but she might have trouble maintaining our position in the lead pack. I’m not familiar with all the runners on the other teams, and some of them might be exhausted from earlier races, while others still have fresh legs, like me.

  Zoe hangs in there on the first lap of the 2-lap leg but she begins to fade on the second lap. The team that fell behind on the last leg catches Zoe, and there’s now a small gap between the two of them and the three teams who have pulled ahead. Nothing I can’t handle. I shake out my arms and legs one last time before positioning myself on the track to grab the baton from Zoe.

  But as I jog forward and reach back for the handoff, the baton fumbles in my grasp and slips out of my hand. I stop mid-stride to retrieve it, nearly tripping over another runner taking her position for the handoff.

  When it’s firmly in my grasp, I take off and look ahead to examine the damage. I’ve lost a few seconds, but I’m not going to let the mistake ruin my race. It won’t allow me to back down from reaching for first place. I make this clear to the crowd as I zoom forward, setting a pace that’s more appropriate for an 800 race than the mile. But I’ve recently discovered the joy of testing my limits.

  One lap into the race, and I’m passing the third place runner. She’s fallen off from the other two. It’s the same Everfield girl from Districts leading the field. Katerina Davis won the individual mile at Districts but placed second in it earlier today to the girl wearing red who is currently on her heels. The announcer is in his element as he highlights the rivalry between them that goes back to their freshman year.

  When I surge past the leaders at the halfway point, the crowd realizes that this is no longer a race between the two rivals. Out of the corner of my eye I see people in the stands rise to their feet.

  “Jones has taken the lead for Brockton Public. Davis and Cruz are trying to stay on her tail, but she’s setting a brutal pace. If she can keep it up, we’ll be seeing a new State record in the girls’ DMR tonight.”

  Instead of crippling me, the mention of breaking a record lights a fire, and I push the pace even harder. Katerina Davis stays on me for half a lap before giving up. I’m in my element, letting the loud cheers fuel me.

  I glance up to the foothills as I rip through the line into my last lap. The sun is setting on the horizon and the sky glows. I’m racing faster than I ever have, yet my legs glide along smoothly, showing no sign of letting up. If I wasn’t using my mouth to suck in air, I’d be grinning.

  When I float through the finish line, I’m told that Brockton Public holds the new State record in the DMR. It wouldn’t have happened without my teammates, but for the first time, I feel like maybe I’ve earned the Brockton Public Phenomenon label. I’m not just an imposter. I’ve proven that I have the courage to race like I own the track.

  My smile widens when I look over the fence on the other side of the track and see Jace and Gran waving at me. Wes leans over the rail next to them, with Jim and Annie on his other side. That’s my family over there. I might feel like I’m missing out on a traditional family, but it’s the people watching me proudly on the other side of that fence who have proven they care about me. Even Annie, who came around a little late in the game, beams with pride.

  With Zoe’s arm around my shoulder, and my teammates surrounding me, I can’t imagine feeling like I need anyone or anything else. It doesn’t matter who tries to hurt me, I know exactly who I am and I will fight to protect what I have.

 

 

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