by L A Cotton
“So, he isn’t walking over here, right now?” Ellie was grinning over my shoulder, but I had turned my back to them. She was probably joking. She had to be joking, right?
“Hmm, Savanah?” a gravelly voice called from behind me. A voice that I regularly dreamed about and my heart slammed against my chest. Danny Pelham was talking to me. I slowly turned around, trying to gain control of my haywire heartbeat.
“H-hi, Danny.”
Danny’s eyes flickered to Ellie, and he lifted his chin, communicating something with her.
“Oh right, yeah, hmm, I’ll catch you later, Ana.” She hurried away as I stood frozen, unable to tear my eyes away from him. His sandy blond hair needed a cut, but I liked how it fell over his eyes a little, making him look like a carefree surfer.
He looked at me and I swore his cheeks flushed a little, which was crazy. Danny Pelham would never be embarrassed about talking to a girl. Let alone me. “So, I was wondering if you wanted to get ice cream after the game tonight?”
“Won’t there be a party at The Bleacher, like usual?” The words rushed out, my voice wavering with nerves.
“Well, yeah, but I- I want to get ice cream… with you. That’s if, you know, you want to?”
If my heart could have soared out of my chest, it would have. “I’d love to.”
A smile broke out over Danny’s face, lighting up his whole face, and he reached out to brush my hair off my cheek. My skin came alive under his touch causing my cheeks to flush. “Cool, I’ll meet you outside the field at like eight?”
“Sure.” I blinked. Was this really happening?
He ran a hand through his hair and nodded, then turned away and headed back to his friends, who were all gawping in our direction. But then he paused and called out over his broad shoulders, “You look beautiful today, Savanah.”
My heart melted into tiny pieces, and I just knew.
Knew that Danny Pelham was the boy who was going to steal my heart.
I blinked back the tears, clutching at my wrist. After confiding in Elena, I had spent a couple of hours letting myself remember. Letting the painful memories consume me. They were once memories filled with happiness and love, but now it hurt so damn much. It was why I had learned to block it all out. Dr. Simmonds said it was compartmentalizing, but to me it was the only way to try to get on with my life.
When I had woken up in the hospital to an earnest faced nurse who told me that they were gone, a blood-curdling scream had ripped through me. Hearing those words was a moment in my life that would remain imprinted on my heart and mind forever. Dr. S eventually taught me some coping mechanisms, some ways to help me function. Function being the keyword. For almost a year, I didn’t feel or live, I just existed. But then one day, after things had reached their worst, Aunt Betsy came into my room and sat on my bed armed with a box of photos. Photos of Mom and Dad. I wanted to hurt her for doing such a thing, but she ignored my clenched fists gripping the comforter and my heaving chest and proceeded to tell me their story while taking out the photos. My anger soon turned to pain, and a river of tears flowed down my cheeks as I smoothed my finger over the old photos. ‘Ana, they would want you to move on with life. They would want you to find happiness. To be all you can be. They wouldn’t want this’, she had said, her sad wrinkled eyes looking straight at me.
The next day, I had contacted the guidance counselor at school about making up my grades and late college admissions.
~
I can’t stop thinking about you. J x
I smiled down at the screen. Jackson had been sending me texts all week, since our night together Monday. He kept up his facade around campus, but after witnessing him brush Briony off in Classics yesterday, I wasn't worried that he was pulling away again. Monday had changed things.
I had just left my last class of the day and was cutting across from the Schroeder building to the path back to McGinley when I spotted Jackson with Braiden and an older man. I ducked behind a tree, wanting to remain unnoticed as I watched them.
Dressed in a tailored black suit and hair slicked into a faux hawk, the older guy draped an arm around each of their shoulders as they walked toward the administration building. He had the same icy cold eyes as his son, the same fiery red hair as his daughter, except he had blond strands peppered in. For an older guy, he was very good looking, but that wasn’t the first thing that I noticed. It was the way he carried himself that made people stop and stare, and a couple of students slowed to a halt. One mouthed the words 'Marcus Donohue' to the other.
So, this is the Godfather of Chastity Falls, I thought to myself, watching as they disappeared into the small brick building. I had been at CFA almost four months and had only heard about Marcus Donohue until now. But he looked just as cold and calculating as people made him out to be, and as I continued my way back to the dorm, I shuddered. Marcus Donohue had held onto Jackson like a father would his own son. And if Braiden disapproved of any relationship between us, would his father?
~
“So, do I get to know where we are going?” My hands fidgeted at my sides as we walked the short distance to Jackson’s car. I was nervous, unsure of how things would be between us after the other night. So, I focused on everything else. It was early; there was a layer of dew coating the ground and only the sounds of the fir trees rustling in the breeze. Jackson's fingers grazed over mine, taking my hand in his. "Not yet. It's a surprise."
My body responded, leaning into his side and he pulled me closer, his arm curving around me. He breathed into my hair and whispered, "I've missed you," and my chest filled with something that I hadn't felt in a long time. Hope.
Jackson had driven to the edge of the road behind McGinley, so huge overhanging firs cloaked his car. Not that anyone was around to see us anyway. Saturday mornings were quiet on campus, students too hung over from the night before to be up and about. As we reached the sleek black machine, he reached around me to grab the handle, pushing my body flush against the door.
“Hi." He smiled down at me and my stomach clenched. "I don't think we got to say a proper good morning,” he murmured against my lips, as his mouth traced the line of them, before his tongue pushed gently against mine and they melded together.
I moaned softly, clasping my arms around his shoulders. “Hi, yourself,” I said, against his lips.
He pulled back slightly, pressed one more kiss to my lips, and then exhaled a long breath. “Fuck. I’ve wanted to do that all week. Come on, I want to take you somewhere.”
Jackson opened the door for me, and I took a second to gather my breath. Just the feel of his lips against mine left me a little lightheaded. After climbing into the car, Jackson walked around the hood to the driver’s side. He was in dark jeans that hung low on his waist and a white sweater that molded to his chest and broad shoulders underneath his jacket. He had his usual unmarked baseball cap pulled down low over his eyes. I had never figured out why he wore it before, but now I guessed it was his attempt to remain unnoticed. Although that seemed unlikely given that there weren't many students driving a car like his on campus.
He climbed into the driver’s seat and gunned the engine. My heart still stuttered a little at the sound—I expected that noise would always affect me—and as Jackson sped down the camouflaged road, I reached over, fumbling with the stereo until I found a station playing Lana Del Rey. I let my head fall back and my body sink into the cool leather seats.
We rode in silence for the first ten minutes. My eyes soaked up the forest, as we wound our way through the dense fir trees. I could feel Jackson glance over every now and again, but I didn’t look at him. I was too lost in my own thoughts, too busy trying to ignore the ache low down in my stomach. But the feel of his fingers gently caressing my hand made it impossible.
“What are you thinking?” His voice cut through the tension, and I finally turned to meet his gaze. His eyes seemed to sparkle, brighter green flecks swirling in a deep green sea.
“How beautiful it is.�
�
“About this last week. I didn’t want to ignore you; it was the hardest fucking thing I’ve ever done…”
The words lingered and I pressed back into the seat, my eyes flickering shut. “It’s okay.”
It wasn't, not really, but I didn’t know what else to say. I still didn’t totally understand what it was about Braiden that had Jackson so concerned.
“It’s not. It will never be okay. I don’t want to hide you away like some dirty little secret. If I thought it wouldn’t matter, I’d shout it from the fucking rooftops. SAVANAH PARRY IS MINE,” he yelled at the top of his voice, and my eyes shot open.
His. Was I really his?
He laughed, which relaxed me a little, and I managed to choke out a strained laugh of my own to cover the emotional tug-of-war raging inside of me. Was that what Monday night had been? Him claiming me? Was I ready to be his?
I watched Jackson as he focused on the road, trying to force out the million and one questions. His face scrunched up, like he knew. “Ana. Stop. Stop overthinking it.”
He knew—he always did.
Fifteen minutes later, Jackson cut off the main highway and pulled into a small town. I had caught a sign on the way in that read Rockaway. The sun was just starting to break through the thick clouds, and although it looked pretty cold out, there was still a little heat in its rays. I pressed my face to the glass, enjoying the feel of it on my skin.
“You miss it?”
I turned to face Jackson. “The sun? Yes and no.”
He didn’t ask any more details, just nodded and carried on driving until he pulled into a parking spot in front of a row of shops and cut the engine. Turning to me, he said, “Ready?”
I nodded, and Jackson got out of the car and popped the trunk. I checked myself in the mirror and climbed out, zipping my parka up to protect myself from the cold air. When the trunk lid closed, my heart skipped a beat. Jackson was looking at me with the biggest grin on his face, making my own lips curve into a smile. “Let’s go have breakfast.”
My eyes dropped to the bag in Jackson’s hand. “Breakfast?”
He reached for my hand and pulled me toward him. “Yeah, come on.”
It was clear that Jackson and Rockaway had history. He navigated the quaint streets with ease until we reached the end that opened out onto the beach. It was breathtaking; miles and miles of sand meeting the ocean.
“Wow.” My eyes drank in every detail. The old man throwing a stick for his dog. A couple running along the beach, spurring each other to go faster. The white horses racing onto the shore.
Jackson wasted no time pulling off his Vans and socks and trudging through the sand further down the beach. I followed his lead, removing my old black Converse and letting my bare feet sink into the cool sand. Memories started trying to break out of the mental box that I kept them locked in, but I managed to shut them down. Jackson looked back, beckoning me over with his head and when I reached him, he dropped everything and dragged me to him. I didn’t have time to protest as his lips found mine and he enveloped me in his arms.
Jackson’s tongue swept into my mouth and tangled with mine. I clutched onto his arms, needing him to ground me because I was totally and utterly lost in him. My mind blurred with the smell of him, the feel of him pressed against my body, and the memories of him making love to me. I didn’t want it to end, but like a bucket of cold water, something wet brushed up against us, a distant voice calling, ‘Baxter, down boy. DOWN.”
We looked down at the same time, a bundle of wet fur jumping around our feet excitedly. Jackson bent down to scrub our intruder’s ear. “Down boy, down. You interrupted me and my girl. Jealous, were you?” He laughed as the dog licked his face.
His girl. My heart slammed against my chest and I started counting in my head—out of habit.
“So sorry. Baxter, heel boy.” A grey-hair man grabbed the overexcited hound by his collar and clipped on a leash. “He’s a bit overfriendly.”
“No worries. He was just saying hello.” Jackson smiled at the man and entwined his hand in mine, pulling me closer, like it was second nature.
The man yanked on the leash and waved us off, a knowing look in his eye “You two lovebirds get back to whatever you were doing," he called over his shoulder.
I buried my head in Jackson’s chest and squirmed. “Well, that wasn’t embarrassing.”
He tensed and wound his hand into the nape of my neck, pulling me back until I was staring up at him. “What do you mean? Embarrassing?” His voice sounded off.
“I just meant that guy seeing us kissing like that.”
It was so much more than a kiss. I had wanted to crawl up, wrap my legs around him, and hold on for life.
Dipping his head, Jackson touched his forehead against mine. “I wasn’t embarrassed.”
I gulped, sensing that I had somehow upset him. He broke away and collected up the bag and his Vans before setting off again, leaving me staring after him. Sighing, I trudged after him. I had forgotten how confusing guys could be.
When I finally caught up with Jackson, he was laying out a picnic blanket. He had picked a spot nestled into a natural mound, so it created some shelter from the fierce wind. Unsure of how to break the ice that seemed to be frozen between us, I dropped down onto the blanket and rested back against the grassy mound, letting my eyes stare out to sea.
The air shifted and Jackson settled beside me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him nudge his nose against my shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
I shrugged him off and then twisted slightly to look him in the eye. “What was that? I wasn’t saying that you embarrass me. I- I just don’t do that.” My eyes tried to convey the hidden meaning.
“That? Kiss guys in public?”
My hand played nervously with the hair falling around my face. “Jackson, I don’t kiss guys. Let alone in public.”
He looked at me incredulously. “You don’t kiss guys? What? Ever?”
“No, not ever, jerk.” I punched his arm playfully. “Just not recently.”
Jackson’s eyes darted to my wrist. It was subtle, but I caught it, like I sensed the questions ticking over in his head. As if he noticed my discomfort at the situation, he stood up, brushed himself off, and said, “Scoot forward.”
I did as he asked and he slipped behind me, lowering himself against the mound, stretching his legs out on either side of me. His arms wrapped around my stomach and pulled me flush against him, and his head settled on my shoulder. “My dad used to bring me here. Every weekend, we’d drive out here and have breakfast, play some ball, and walk Max, our dog.” Jackson's voice was thick with emotion, and it was almost painful to hear.
“I know what it’s like to lose someone, Ana. I don’t know your story, not yet, but I see it in your eyes. The grief, the pain. You’re just a scared girl painting on a fake smile trying to tell the world that it’s all fine, when really, you’re just holding on by a thread.”
I felt like Jackson had punched me in the chest. The air left my lungs and I let out a quiet gasp. I had been right—he knew. He could see right through me.
We sat in silence for a few minutes. Jackson didn't try to say anything, and I appreciated him giving me some space. I just needed a breather. So, when Jackson shuffled to grab the bag and handed me a breakfast sub, I was more than grateful. "Breakfast is served," he joked.
I slouched further into him as I ate my sub in silence, watching the hypnotic waves crash to the shore. But I didn't miss his fingers digging in around my waist. It wasn't painful; it was a nice sensation, like he was unwilling to let me go. Like he was confirming that I was real—that I was really here with him.
"Those rocks out there are called twin rocks. When I was young, Braiden and I would come out here with his dad and we would pretend we were pirates with the treasure hidden out just past those rocks. We spent hours trying to build a raft but never did quite make it out there."
There was an unspoken emotion in his voice whenever he talked abo
ut Braiden. I had never quite placed it before, but today, sitting in the place Jackson came as a child, it sounded a lot like loyalty.
"So, you've known each other a long time?"
"Our dads were best friends..." Jackson hesitated and a new emotion wavered in his voice.
"Were?"
"He died when I was nine."
I gripped his arm. It was a subconscious reaction.
"Braiden's dad, Uncle Marcus, took me in. Raised me like his own. I'm part of their family, Ana. I owe them everything."
My body tensed as I processed what he was saying. I knew there had been some link between them; I just didn’t realize how much it tethered him to the Donohues.
“Where was your mom?” The words tumbled out before I could stop them.
“She died when I was a baby. Dad raised me. And then the Donohues raised me. Marcus considers me his second son.”
I shifted onto my knees and twisted my body to face Jackson. I reached out, brushing his cut slightly with my hand. His body shuddered underneath me. “Jackson, why do we have to hide this…” I motioned a hand between us, “from Braiden?”
He wrapped a piece of my hair around his finger and exhaled a long breath. “That night at the orientation party… Braiden isn’t used to girls turning him down. You froze. I saw it, you resisted. He didn’t like it. He hasn’t forgotten about you, Ana. I've already had to divert him once. If he finds out about us, shit will get bad real quickly…”
Jackson stared right past me, his eyes sad. “Braiden is like my brother, but it wasn’t always like that. When I first moved in with them, he thought it was great, but then his dad started treating me the same and Braiden got jealous. As we grew older, Braiden took whatever he wanted, did whatever he wanted, to show everyone who was top dog. He still does. I wouldn’t have chosen this life for myself, but I owe them, Ana. They saved me from going into the system. But Braiden doesn’t like to lose, even if it’s to me.” His eyes met mine and he swept his hand over my jaw, holding me still. “Especially to me.”
