“Says the boy dating America’s Next Top Model,” she replied dryly, reaching for the robe.
“I’m your friend, Jo, and I think you’re beautiful. Trust me, as the boy who made fun of you for years, I wouldn’t say it unless I meant it. I’m not known for being particularly nice. One day, you’ll be ready. Maybe it won’t be with Bentham, but you’ll never know unless you try.”
Jo bit on her bottom lip. “So, I’m not Scary Carrie after all?”
“No. Add that to the enormously long list of times I’ve been wrong. These scars,” I said reaching out a hand and holding it above her arm, “don’t define you.” I wanted to show her I meant every word I said. I slowly lowered my hand onto her arm, constantly watching her face for any sign that this made her uncomfortable.
She sat completely still.
When my hand met her skin, her eyes closed and a small sigh escaped her lips. “That feels good. I can’t remember the last time someone touched me,” she said so lowly it was almost impossible to hear her.
With effort, I sat up so I was closer to her. I continued to watch her face as I slowly dragged my fingers up and down her skin. I could feel the goose bumps without seeing them. I reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear that had fallen loose. Still she kept her eyes closed.
“Come here,” I implored just as quiet, as if the smallest of noises could shatter this moment between us.
Much to my surprise, she did. I guided her so she was curled on the bed besides me. I wrapped her in one of my arms, her head resting on my shoulder. She made sure to keep any weight off my chest, but she snuggled as close to me as she could without hurting me. We didn’t say anything else the rest of the night. I continued to run my fingers up and down her arms. Her back. Her hair.
In the morning it might feel different, but that night it wasn’t something most people could understand. They’d see it as sexual, but it had nothing to do with that. It was intimacy.
It was trust.
It was hope.
Chapter 23
“You’re gonna have to wreck your car.”
These were the words that would keep me from playing in the homecoming game. Or at least the words that made me realize it was no longer a possibility. The moment I ran from that car in the rain ended any chances of that.
But denial ain’t just a river in Egypt.
And clichés are clichés for a reason.
We shifted the following afternoon. Jo was already up and about when I awoke the next morning. Neither of us talked about the cuddling. I didn’t feel like we needed too. It was a one-time thing.
It was what we both needed at the time.
As Jo went around the house tidying up and erasing any signs of our existence, readying us for the shift, which could come at any moment, I hesitantly poked and prodded myself, realizing my injuries hadn’t miraculously healed over night. In fact, I only felt worse. With the big game only days away, I was in trouble.
Jo leaned against the doorway, refusing to sit on the bed again, when she began to plan how to explain my injuries. We had originally shifted towards the end of the last block of school. And, thank God, we didn’t have practice on Mondays. So as luck would have it, not that I considered myself real lucky as of late considering I’d been force into some epic battle I didn’t sign up for, I’d only have to wait in the bathroom till the halls cleared. Jo would meet me in there once she thought it was safe. Then came the fun part.
We were going to wreck my car.
Jo was going to run it into a light pole while I waited in the ditch. Well, she wasn’t going to be in the car either. She was going to try one of these cool things you see in movies where someone uses something to brace against the gas pedal. Not that watching my car die was cool.
She had even predetermined where the accident would occur. Chesapeake, the next city over from Virginia Beach, was filled with a bunch of back, country roads. Often, my friends and I would drive on these long stretches of road, park, and drink or get high. At least before Jenna demanded I gave up pot, promising me colleges would test for it.
We would blame the accident on a deer when we called for help. And the rest, along with my car, was history.
Before all this, my car ranked fourth on my list of all-time important things.
Jenna
Football
Sex
Car
Porn
School
Oh, how things have changed.
Between watching my car slam into the pole, finally understanding what my teacher meant when he talked about the death of the American Dream, and the injuries that still plagued me, I didn’t think it could get any worse.
I, of course, as always, was wrong.
“Looks like you two got into some trouble. Do I want to know what happened?” Bentham asked, stepping out of his car. He drove a broke down-looking Volvo. But at least he had a car.
Jo began to blush the moment he opened his mouth. She pulled her hood over her head. I might have been paranoid, but it felt like she was avoiding looking at me as well. “Thanks for coming. I just don’t think it would be good for Logan if I’m here when the police and tow truck come.”
“I don’t mind you being here,” I replied, still wondering why she called Bentham in the first place.
Jo turned her body towards me but still kept her eyes hidden. “I don’t think Jenna would understand. I know she’s cool with us being friends and all, but a girl can only handle so much.”
I didn’t quite know what she meant, but I imagined Jo being there would only lead to more questions. From everyone. And I was already so damn tired.
“Don’t worry, Einstein, I’ll make sure she gets back to her car safely,” Bentham said with a nod towards Jo.
“I don’t think she really needs you to keep her safe. Kinda good at taking care of herself. But I appreciate you giving her a ride,” I snarked back.
It felt weird seeing him there. I didn’t like it, and it was more than my general dislike of the guy. Seeing him there, standing so casually against his car, meant he was real. The whole thing was. We really were time travelers. We really were connected. In the future. In the past. In the present.
Chapter 24
“Looks like maybe you aren’t so important after all, Middleton,” Alec yelled a little too loudly as he passed from the living room into the kitchen where the keg was stored.
“Looks like it,” I replied, forcing a smile onto my face. I’d been hearing hours of similar banter from my teammates. Teammates. Right. When I showed up at school, stitches on the side of my head and my ribs taped up, I got called a lot of names. I got ignored. I got spitballs thrown at the back of my head in class. My locker got egged. A few of my teachers started asking for homework. Coach assured me the team would miss its chance to go to state because I wasn’t willing to kill some darn deer.
This continued until the football team won without me. Sophomore Brent Bradley threw three touchdown passes, and Logan Middleton was only a memory. No one wanted to talk about how the team they beat was one of the worst in the district, and how they’d be praying for my return next week when they would have to face the much tougher Wolverines. Right now, they just wanted to party.
For the most part, I let the boys get their jokes in. At least they didn’t hate me anymore. Now, they were simply belittling me. Much better. It could be worse. I could be poor Brent Bradley who was on his fourth cup of moonshine and getting dangerously close to hooking up with Shelly, a stage five clinger.
Instead, I sat on the couch with Jo mocking everything. Jenna was in the bathroom with Mary. Mary had caught Lance cheating again, and Jenna was in best friend mode. It had been her idea to invite Jo along to the party. In fact, it was Jenna who called her and did it. I was surprised Jo accepted, but now, with Jenna stuck in the Why Do I Date Losers Cry Fest, I was glad to have the company.
On the other end of the couch on which we sat, Kim was talking to Lisa about some boy. Either as a result of the alc
ohol they both were consuming or their inability to judge the volume of voice needed to be heard over short distances, both cheerbots were screaming.
“So, then I pulled out my blackberry and called him,” Kim squealed.
“You didn’t!”
“He didn’t answer, but he texted me right back.”
“He was totally afraid to talk to you in person,” Lisa responded.
“In person? On the phone?” Jo mouthed to me.
I grinned at her.
“So, here’s how it went down,” Kim began, her hands already moving like she shot sugar straight into her veins. “I was like what the hell, dude. Then I sent him the emoticon with the squiggly eyebrows. Then he was like calm down. So, I sent him the emoticon with the one eyebrow raised. I mean he knew what he did. How dare he act like he didn’t? So, then I sent him the emoticon with the crossed eyes cause he was driving me crazy.”
Jo turned to me, her eyes bright. “I’m going to send you the emoticon with the judging eyes and smirking mouth. You know the one I’m talking about, the one entitled You Should Be Ashamed of the People You Hang Out With.”
I nudged my shoulder into hers causing a small bit of her drink to dribble out of her mouth. We both started laughing as she tried to quickly wipe it off her chin. “Well, I’m going to send you the emoticon with the wide open mouth and glassy eyes. You know the one. It’s called, Somebody’s Tipsy.”
This only made Jo laugh harder. It was weird seeing her having such a good time, so unaware of the way people threw glares her way. They let her in because she came with Jenna and me, but I doubted they’d ever truly accept her. You can’t erase over a decade of being Scary Carrie. No matter how hard you tried or how much beer you drank. I liked seeing Jo laugh and joke, but I wished she could do so without the alcohol that warmed her cheeks.
“You don’t have to be a dick, Logan,” Lisa snapped, pulling Kim by the hand away from us.
“Great. I guess they heard us,” I said.
“Pity,” Jo remarked before taking another swig.
“You want to slow down there, partner?” I asked. Of course, I was being pretty hypocritical. If I wasn’t planning on popping one of the pain pills I got after the fake accident the minute I got home, I’d be downing it myself.
“I’m trying out being a teenager for the night, Logan,” she replied, tapping her red Solo cup against my forehead.
“Maybe this isn’t the kind of teenager you should be,” I said, flicking the cup.
“What are you talking about? I’m at a party. I’m hanging out with football players and cheerleaders. I’m drinking this nasty ass stuff just because others are. What else do I need to do to make you accept me as one of your own?” she replied, faking desperation.
“You can start by giving me that cup.”
Jo sighed dramatically. “Fine. I’ll give it to you.” I reached out my hand to take the cup from her when she titled it back and downed the contents. She smiled at me, raising her eyebrow. “Now you may have it,” she said, thrusting the empty cup into my hand.
“You’re ridiculous,” I said, not wanting to laugh but finding it impossible not to do so.
Jo made a circle with her finger. “You do realize everyone keeps looking at us right?”
“They don’t like to see me having a good time,” I replied.
“More like they don’t like seeing you have a good time with me,” she corrected.
I shrugged. Not exactly sure how to reply to that. I couldn’t change how they felt about her no matter how much I wanted to. And I had been wrong about her not noticing the looks people gave her. Of course I was. Even tipsy, Jo was always on alert.
“It’s stupid. Their whole attitudes. I dressed in my best hoodie for them,” she whined before winking at me. She had replaced her typically black hoodie for a red one. Though the more I stared at her face, the more I was convinced she was wearing makeup as well. It was subtle.
But she always looked pretty.
As far as totally platonic friends go.
Suddenly, Jo elbowed me in my injured ribs. I was about to protest when she pointed across the room. Apparently, Brent had really made an impression on Shelly. Jo erupted in a fit of surprisingly girlish giggles as he walked out of the back room with Shelly’s throw up all over the front of the pants.
When Jenna returned, she flashed us a small smile and grabbed my hand. I gave it a squeeze which caused her smile to grow bigger. “How’s our girl?” I asked.
“Still a mess. Alec barged in the bathroom and started feeding her shots. I’m gonna have to drive her car home. Can you drive my car to take Jo home? You could drive it back to me at Mary’s tomorrow morning. I’m pretty sure this is going to be an all night event.”
I nodded. The thought of driving caused a sharp pain around my ribs, but I knew I could do it in an emergency. And this was a high school emergency. “Sure thing, Jenna. I think Jo’s about had all the high school party she can handle tonight.”
“I’m sitting right here, Middleton,” Jo called up from the couch where she now had her head back on the cushions and her eyes closed.
I gently grabbed Jenna by the arm and pulled her to me. I pressed my lips against hers in a soft, lingering kiss. When we broke apart I moved my lips to her ear. “They’re lucky we’re such good friends. If we weren’t, I take you from this place and make you play nursemaid. I’d be the wounded soldier, of course.”
“Wounded soldier? More like the soldier who ran the tank into a brick building,” she whispered back.
I gave Jenna another quick kiss before turning my attention back to my drunk shifting partner. Jo’s eyes were opened, and she was purposely looking away from us. There was a slight blush to her cheeks, and I wondered how much of our exchange she had caught. “Ready to go?” I asked her, feeling my own cheeks begin to burn.
Jo nodded. “Yeah. Can’t stay too long at a party. Want to keep the masses craving more.”
“More what?”
“Time with me. Duh,” she said, rolling her eyes.
I laughed. She really was a lot of fun.
As soon as the car pulled away from Alec’s house, Jo let free a heavy sigh. The kind of sigh I was pretty familiar with. It was the sigh that crawled from my mouth as the last seconds of the play clock wound down ensuring us a win, or the sigh when Jenna told me she had forgiven me for some fight I no doubt was to blame for.
I turned to Jo briefly. Her feet were on the dashboard and her head was against the headrest, eyes closed. “Jo? Please, don’t tell me you’re going to pass out on me? I’m not trying to carry your ass.”
“Hardly. Just resting, Logan. Your people are exhausting.”
I laughed. “What? You didn’t have a good time? I thought you were all into trying to be a teenager for a night?”
“Not something I’ll ever be good at I’m afraid,” she replied, moving so she was sitting up. I could feel her looking at me as I turned my eyes back onto the road.
“What?” I asked, feeling my cheeks go red once again.
“You really like that sort of thing? The party?” she asked.
I shrugged and immediately regretted it. My ribs were killing me.
“Interesting,” she replied.
“How so? You can’t say you had a miserable time. You sure laughed a lot,” I challenged. Why did she feel the need to question every aspect of my life? Maybe it would have been better if she passed out.
“I laughed a lot because I was hanging out with you. You I like,” she replied.
Oh. Right. She liked me. We were friends. Partners.
“I just hope I don’t feel like crap tomorrow,” Jo said, changing the subject rather quickly.
“When you get home drink some water and take some aspirin. Contrary to every movie made about high school ever, not everyone who drinks spends the next morning throwing up or trying to figure out who they slept with.”
“Oh. Please teach me more, Yoda,” Jo mused.
“Wow. Y
ou really are a nerd. You just made a drunk Yoda reference,” I joked.
“Ha. Ha.”
“I must say drinking isn’t really your thing,” I said, hoping she wasn’t going to take what I was going to say the wrong way. Girls were funny that way.
“What do you mean?”
And they always want to know what you mean.
I kept my eyes staring straight ahead. “I had fun tonight. Hanging out with you was a blast. When I go to those things, I drink. Being hurt and all, I was kinda worried this party was going to suck. I mean, I wasn’t exactly there as the star of the game. But you made it fun. You’re fun. I just wish...”
“You wish what?” she asked quietly.
“That you didn’t feel like you had to drink to feel comfortable. You’re funny. Maybe if you could just relax things would be better.”
“Says the boy who just said he drinks at these things to have a good time.”
“That’s not—”
“Face it, Logan. We’re a lot more alike than you want to think we are,” she interrupted. “Maybe you don’t really like those parties anymore than I do. You’re coming down on me for drinking, but just told me you thought you were going to have a lame time because you couldn’t drink. Are those people really your friends if you can only stomach them by drinking with them or sitting on the couch and making fun of them?”
Why did she always have to twist my words around and throw them back at me?
We didn’t speak much after that. Jo leaned her head against her window and closed her eyes. These silences often consumed us. I wasn’t sure how I felt about this particular one. When I pulled in front of the small, rundown house Jo was living at currently, she slowly lifted her head from the window. The house wasn’t much and I could understand how it would never feel like home. I could read it in the hesitant way her body moved to open the door. How could she ever have a home when she was passed from person to person?
I was pretty sure that much like me, she never knew what it meant to have a home. It didn’t matter I had lived with my uncle as long as I could remember; it would never feel like a home. He made sure it was that way.
Because You Exist (Light in the Dark #1) Page 14
