by J. L. Perry
‘Hey, baby,’ she says with concern. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing,’ I lie as the tears start to fall.
Sophia comes to stand beside me, her hand tenderly rubbing my back. ‘Did you two have a fight?’
‘No.’ We had sex. But of course I don’t say that part.
‘Well, what’s with all the tears then?’ she asks, cupping my face. ‘Is this about him going away to university?’
‘I don’t want him to go.’ It’s the truth, but it has nothing to do with my tears. I can’t tell her what happened last night. She’s a pretty cool mum, but if I tell her what Jax and I did, she may not let me go and visit him while he’s away at uni. Actually, I can practically guarantee it.
My birth not only robbed Sophia of her youth, it ended her high aspirations for a successful modelling career. She wouldn’t want the same fate for me. Before I was born she was on her own. She had no support, and nobody to reach out to. My grandmother tragically passed away in a car accident when Sophia was only nine. If that wasn’t bad enough, her life changed dramatically when her father remarried. She never got on with her stepmother, and over the years she managed to drive a huge wedge between my mother and my grandfather. Sophia was kicked out of home when she was seventeen years old, and has had no contact with them since. Thankfully her modelling jobs paid enough to support her.
Sophia was only nineteen when she fell pregnant with me. My father—or, more accurately, sperm donor—was the CEO of a large mining company. They met on the set of a modelling job she was hired to do for his firm. He apparently swept her off her feet, showering her with expensive gifts and exotic weekends away. She was besotted. Their tumultuous affair lasted three months, and ended abruptly the moment my conception was discovered. He’d forgotten to mention the fact that he was already engaged to be married to a rival mogul’s billionaire daughter. News of his affair and my impending birth would’ve ruined his chances of merging their thriving corporation with his own. He has provided for us financially over the years. We wanted for nothing. He even bought us this big-arse house. It wasn’t because he cared though. It was more like hush money, to keep my mum quiet. As much as I’ve struggled to come to terms with our circumstances over the years, I know deep down we’re better off without him. But I’m not gonna lie, it hurts me deeply to know my own father wants nothing to do with me.
‘It’s not the end of the world,’ Sophia says, pulling me into her arms and stroking my hair. ‘You’ll still get to see him on holidays and weekends.’
‘It’s not the same, and you know it.’
‘You have other friends … what about Jasmine and Bianca?’
‘They’re stuck-up bitches. I can’t stand them.’ We were friends before Jax and I started hanging out together, but I never truly fitted in with them. That was my fake life. The true me didn’t come out until I met Jax.
‘Since when?’
‘Since I realised how shallow and self-centred they are. They’re nothing like me. I don’t fit in with them … I’m different,’ I ramble. ‘The only person who gets me is Jax.’
‘I always thought there was something special between you two. You seem like the perfect match.’
Her words only break my heart further. We are perfect for each other, but he obviously doesn’t see it that way. The fact he’s not here speaks volumes.
I feel like such a fool. I’ve stood by for years watching Jax pick up, screw and then discard other girls, but I never thought I’d be one of them. In my heart I thought going all the way with him would change things between us—move our friendship to the next level. I was hoping he’d finally see me in a different light. Not just as his buddy, but something more.
Maybe I disappointed him.
Maybe he just doesn’t want me in that way.
Maybe the whole stupid beauty pageant thing turned him off. I wish I hadn’t confessed that now; he probably thinks I’m conceited like all the others.
••••
I spend the rest of the day locked in my room, beside myself with worry. I must’ve checked my phone a thousand times, hoping to see a message from him, but there was nothing. Everything in me wants to text or call him, but I don’t think my heart could survive another blow today.
By late afternoon, I can’t take it anymore. He leaves for uni tomorrow and I have to see him before he goes. I want to know where we stand, but more than anything I need to know we’re okay. I don’t want to lose him.
After showering and dressing in a pair of cut-off denim shorts, a white fitted tee and my favourite pink Converse sneakers, I drive over to his house. My stomach is in knots by the time I arrive. I rarely come here, because Jax prefers to be at my place. His family are weird, so I totally get that.
My hands are shaking when I knock on the front door. Please don’t let things be awkward between us. I don’t care if we forget last night ever happened. I just don’t want to lose his friendship. I couldn’t live without it.
‘What the fuck did you do to your hair?’ Jax’s brother, Brent, says when he answers the door. I’ve never really liked him. He’s a pretentious prick, just like the rest of his mates. I can’t believe he and Jax are related. ‘You look like a damn Easter egg.’
‘Yeah, well if I had a face like yours, I’d sue my parents.’
‘Ha ha,’ he says sarcastically. ‘My brother has turned you into a weirdo, just like him. You used to be cool.’
‘It’s a good thing that I don’t give a flying fuck what you think then, isn’t it?’
‘You can pretend you hate me all you want, but we both know that’s not true.’
‘I’m not saying I hate you, but I would unplug your life support machine to charge my phone.’
‘Bitch.’
Hands on hips, I stare him down. I refuse to let this jerk get the better of me. ‘I bet your arse is jealous at the amount of shit that comes out of your mouth.’
‘Very funny, freak.’
I could stand here all damn night and throw insults at the douche—it’s actually kinda fun—but he’s not worth the breath. Besides, the only freak here is him; there’s nothing wrong with me, or Jax for that matter. He’s just as beautiful on the inside as he is on the outside. He has a unique style, which, sadly, is frowned upon in our circle. I love him for his individuality: his dreamy chocolate-brown bedroom eyes, his just-fucked messy brown hair and panty-melting smile. Every girl at school wants to bed him, and I hate to admit that, unfortunately, most have. I’m pretty sure the disdain Brent holds for Jax is ninety-nine per cent jealousy, because as much as he tries, he’ll never hold a candle to his brother.
I take in Brent’s perfectly styled, slicked-back hair and stupid polo shirt. His facial features are similar to Jax’s, but their personalities are miles apart. Brent is a cocky, stuck-up dickhead who thinks he’s better than everyone, and Jax is just … sweet, nice and the essence of cool.
‘Is Jax here or not?’ I snap.
‘Not,’ he replies, folding his arms over his chest like the smug arsehole he is.
‘Do you know when he’ll be home?’
He chuckles. ‘In about four years.’
‘What? He’s left for uni already? He wasn’t supposed to go until tomorrow.’
‘He packed his things into his car this morning and drove away. You probably scared him off with that ridiculous hair. Good riddance, I say.’
I could seriously slap this guy right now. I’ve always hated the way Jax’s family treat him. He’s too good for them, and they could learn a thing or two from him if they just gave him half a chance.
‘Great brother you are.’
‘You don’t need someone like him in your life. The sooner you learn that, the better off you’ll be. Tell you what, I’m home alone … you’re more than welcome to come inside and suck my cock if you like.’
I take a step in his direction, and I see a smile play on his lips. He really is up himself if he thinks I’d even entertain the idea. ‘Suck on this, ar
sehole,’ I say as I grab hold of his crotch and squeeze with all my might. ‘You’d be lucky if you were half the man your brother is, and by the feel of it, you’re not even a quarter.’ I release him from my death grip when he lets out a high-pitched squeal. That’ll teach him for thinking he can speak to me like that.
Turning, I run down the stairs. Tears cloud my eyes as I head for my car. I refuse to break down in front of that cocksucker.
I’m hurt and angry. I feel used and dirty.
My heart is completely shattered.
How could Jax leave without saying goodbye?
JAX
One month later …
I HATE MY LIFE.
University has finally started, and there’s only one word to describe it—hell. It’s been a week and I already feel like I’m suffocating. I knew I was going to hate it, but I wasn’t prepared for just how much. It’s bullshit. This isn’t me. I’m only doing this because I crave my parents’ acceptance. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. I’ll never understand why I’m not enough for them.
As soon as I enter my apartment, I drop my backpack on the floor, kicking it in frustration. I feel lost … trapped. In a world I despise. I exhale forcefully as I flop down onto the sofa. How am I going to survive four more years of this bullshit?
My thoughts move to Candice. My pink-haired angel. I need her. I miss her so much I ache. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I scroll through my contacts for her number. I’ve done this a million times since I left—it’s a constant battle not to contact her. Not a day passes that I haven’t wanted to speak to her. I yearn to hear her voice. I’ve written countless texts, but haven’t had the guts to send any of them. What can I say? I’m sorry I left the way I did … I’m sorry I never said goodbye … I’m sorry I’m such an arsehole? She deserved so much better than that. So much fucking better.
My finger hovers over her number, but, like always, I can’t go through with it. I’m a gutless prick. Flicking my thumb across the screen, I move down my list of contacts until my parents’ number appears. I’ve had no word from them since I’ve been here. They were probably glad to see the back of me.
This time I don’t hesitate. My mother picks up after three rings.
‘Hello, Mother.’
‘Oh … Jaxson. Hi. How’s university?’ The unenthusiastic tone in her voice lets me know she’s not over the moon to hear from me, her own son. I don’t know why I let this bother me, but it does. It always does.
‘Honestly, I hate it.’
‘What? Why would you say that?’
‘Because it’s the truth. I’m not cut out for this life, Mum.’
‘Jaxson,’ she sighs. ‘When are you going to grow up? You’re an adult now, act like one. Your father and I have bent over backwards to give you and Brent a good life.’
‘Yes, you’ve bent over backwards to give me the life you want me to have, not the life I want. There’s a difference.’
‘We’ve given you everything—a nice home, a great education, a future—and this is the way you repay us?’
‘I appreciate everything you’ve given me. I just wish I had a say in what I study. I’m not cut out to be a politician. It’s not what I want.’
‘Huh. What you want. Enough with this constant whining! Your father is a politician, and a damn good one. Is it too much to ask for his sons to want to follow in his footsteps? You should be proud. You should aspire to be the type of man your father is.’
‘What? A bully?’
I hear her gasp. But it’s true, my father is a bully. I would never aspire to be anything like him.
‘How could you say such a thing? You ungrateful—’ She pauses. I don’t know why, I’m not unaccustomed to her insults. ‘Where did we go wrong with you, Jaxson? You’re a constant disappointment.’
I’m a disappointment. She always has to throw that in. My parents may be disappointed in me, but it’s a two-way street. ‘Thanks. As always, your compassion and belief in me is astounding. I’ve gotta go.’
I end the call without waiting for her reply. I was stupid to think I could talk to her, or that she’d understand.
I toss my phone onto the coffee table. I’ve done everything they’ve ever asked of me. I worked hard at school and always received good grades. I tried my best to stay out of trouble. I attended all their fucking functions with a smile, albeit a forced one. I even wore a damn suit and tie and acted like the perfect son as expected. So how am I a disappointment?
I need a fucking drink.
I grab a glass from the kitchen cupboard, and my bottle of Jack Daniels off the benchtop. Unlike my parents, good old Jack never lets me down. We’ve become very well acquainted since I’ve moved here. Especially in the first few days. It almost fucking killed me to get in my car and drive away from Candice after our night together. Probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But in the end, I knew it was what I needed to do.
Filling the glass halfway, I down the whiskey in two gulps. I welcome the burn of the amber liquid as it slides down the back of my throat. I don’t hesitate in refilling the glass—I need to be numb. I don’t want to feel anymore. It hurts too much. I have studying to do tonight, but fuck it, it can wait.
I lean back into the sofa, resting my head on the cushion. There’s got to be more to life than this.
When my phone dings, it startles me. Nobody texts me anymore.
I reach for my phone and see Candice’s name on the screen. My heart starts to race as a smile tugs at my lips. My angel. She has no idea how much I need this right now.
I open her text straightaway, but as soon as I do, my heart sinks.
Candice: I’m so disappointed in you, Jax.
Whoa. That’s not what I needed to hear. Is this some kind of sick joke? I double check the number to make sure it’s really her. That’s something my mother would send, not my Candylicious.
There’s no mistake, it’s from Candice all right. I sigh as I flop back into my seat. We’ve had no contact in over a month and this is all I get? I guess I deserve it after what I did.
Me: It was only a matter of time before that happened. Disappointing people is what I do best.
As soon as I hit reply, I reach for the bottle of Jack. This time I don’t even bother with the glass. I can’t believe out of all the things Candice could’ve said to me, she chose that. Maybe they’re all right. Maybe I am a disappointment.
When my phone dings again, I’m hesitant to read her reply.
Candice: Wow. I hear nothing from you for all this time, and that’s the response I get?
Me: Yep. That’s the best I got. I don’t have time for this bullshit.
I press send, feeling sick. As if things weren’t already bad enough. I want to punch myself in the face for sending her that. What in the hell is wrong with me? This is not how I wanted my first contact with her, after all this time, to go down. A few seconds later my phone dings.
Candice: Fuck you, Jaxson Albright.
‘Fuck!’ I scream as I throw my phone across the room. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck!’
••••
Two weeks have passed, and I’ve heard nothing more from Candice. I sent her a text the day after she contacted me that simply said, I’m sorry. She never replied. I don’t blame her. She has every right to be disappointed in me. If I hadn’t gotten off the phone with my mother just minutes prior to receiving Candice’s text, I would never have replied the way I did. But that’s no excuse.
After class, I head to the supermarket to pick up some groceries. As I’m passing a jewellery store, a necklace in the window catches my eye. The bottle-shaped pendant has a pink-jewelled heart inside. Not only does the colour of the stone remind me of Candice—her hair, her Converse sneakers, her bedroom—but the heart in the bottle symbolises so much more to me. My true feelings for Candice are something I’ve always kept bottled up deep inside me. This necklace is an omen, the push I need to make things right between us again. Without hesitation, I go into the store and buy
it. If nothing else, I want her to have it. It’s important that she knows just how much she means to me.
Putting myself out there isn’t something I’ve ever done, so I end up carrying the necklace around in my wallet for almost two more weeks. It taunts me the entire time, to the point where I can no longer take it. That’s when I decide to write her a letter. Originally, it was just going to be something along the lines of, ‘Hi, I’ve missed you. I’m sorry I left without saying goodbye …’ but once I put pen to paper, I end up pouring my heart out. I tell her everything. My feelings, my fears, my insecurities. I’d never been so open and honest with anyone, not even myself.
It takes me another few weeks to gain the courage to post the letter, but when I finally do, I feel lighter than I have in years. I have nothing to lose and everything to gain.
Well that was what I was stupid enough to believe. The letter arrives back two weeks later with a cross through her address and the letters RTS written across the front of the unopened envelope. I’m shocked. I can’t believe that she’s returned the letter unopened. I can’t even put into words how that makes me feel. It’s definitely not the response I’d hoped for, but it tells me everything I need to know. We’re finished. I’ve lost the most important person in my life. I’m not gonna lie, it almost breaks me. To say I’m crushed, devastated, even heartbroken, would be an understatement.
As much as it kills me, I know I have to forget her, and try my best to move on. I hate myself for the way things have turned out. One incredible moment has ruined the best thing that has ever happened to me: Her. My angel, my Candylicious.
At least I got to love her the way I wanted to, even if it was only for a few hours.
JAX
Two years later …
AS I HEAD BACK TO MY PARENTS’ HOUSE, MY STOMACH CHURNS. It’s a three-hour drive to Canberra from Sydney, so I have plenty of time to think about what I’m going to say when I get there. My parents moved to the capital when my brother and I were small. It’s where Parliament House is, so naturally it’s where my father wanted to be—since he lives, eats and breathes fucking politics.
