by Kai Juniper
"You keep doing stuff with her I'll get her mom fired. And not just from here but around town. Everyone she works for is connected to Twisted Pine. Parents. The teachers. Even my coach has her clean."
"You'd really do that?" I say, staring into his dark eyes. "Destroy her business just because you don't want me being friends with her daughter?"
"If that's what it takes to get you to stay away from her."
"That's fucking ridiculous." I turn and walk across the room. "Go to your stupid party and leave me alone."
"She goes to Legion," I hear Braden say. "She's the fucking enemy."
I whip around. "Then she shouldn't be doing your laundry and cleaning your house."
"I agree. But my dad won't fucking listen."
Trystan walks over to me. "Forget about that and let's go. It's better than sitting around here all night. And they'll have food. Like your kind of food. Burgers, chips, brownies." He grins. "No protein bars."
"Sounds great but I'm not hungry. And I really am tired. I just want to sleep. Are you guys gonna be out all night?"
"Probably," Trystan says. "Especially if Dad's not gonna be here."
"What's with you and Peyton?" Braden asks. "I saw you sitting with her and Alyssa."
"Yeah? So? You have a problem with them too?"
"Not with Alyssa, but Peyton's bat-shit crazy."
"But she's freaking hot," Trystan says.
"Ignore him," Braden says. "He wants to fuck her."
"Why do you think she's crazy?" I ask.
"She fucked the principal to raise her grades," Braden says. "The guy was in his sixties."
"He was really that old?" I say. "Yeah, that's crazy."
"She makes shit up," Braden says. "Don't believe anything she says."
"But she's part of your group, isn't she? She said she's a cheerleader."
"She is, but she never actually does anything at the games. She always makes up some excuse for why she can't. I'm telling you, she's fucking crazy."
"I'm not friends with her," I say. "I was just sitting by her so I wouldn't be stuck sitting next to your dad all night in the parents' section."
"I can't believe he just left like that," Braden mutters. "My own father didn't even stick around to make sure I was okay."
"You knew he wouldn't," Trystan says.
"Did he say anything on the way home?" Braden asks me. "Did he even act concerned?"
"Yeah, definitely," I say, knowing it's a lie but not wanting Braden to feel bad. It's clear he's hurt that his dad left without checking on him. I don't need to make him feel worse.
"You're lying," Braden says. "If he gave a shit, he wouldn't have gone to LA tonight."
"He knew you guys would be at a party," I say. "He said he wouldn't even see you until tomorrow."
"Let's go," Braden says to Trystan.
There's a tapping noise on the sliding glass door.
"What was that?" Braden says.
"Probably the wind." I race to the slider and peek out the side of the drapes. Jackson is standing there. Shit!
"Is someone there?" Braden asks.
"No, it was the wind."
"Sounded like someone knocking." Braden heads toward me, going fast for someone with an injured knee.
"Braden, just go. It was nothing."
But it's too late. He's standing at the slider and yanks open the drape.
Chapter Seven
My heart beats out of my chest, anticipating the fight that's about to happen between Braden and Jackson. And then Braden and ME when he finds out I've been seeing Jackson.
"What the hell?" Braden says. "There's no one here."
I look past Braden and see Jackson is gone. Where'd he go? He was there just seconds ago. How did he know to hide?
"Braden, let's go," Trystan says. "Dante just texted and said the team's already there." He smiles at me. "Dante wants to know if you're coming."
I sigh. "Tell him no. And that we're just friends."
"You could tell him yourself if you'd go to the party with us," Braden says, meeting Trystan at the door. "You sure you want to stay here by yourself, knowing someone's out there?"
"Nobody's out there." I yank the drapes closed. "It's the wind. It makes that noise all the time."
"Trystan, give us a minute," Braden says.
"Why?"
"Just do it!" he yells. "Go wait in the car."
Trystan leaves, and my heart beats faster as I try to imagine why Braden wants to talk to me alone. Did he see Jackson on the patio but pretend he didn't? Is he going to yell at me now that Trystan's gone?
"What do you need?" I say, going to sit on my bed.
"I need you to go to this party tonight."
"Why?"
He comes over to me. "Did you already forget our arrangement?"
I sigh. "The guys aren't going to tell me anything. And they're not going to do stuff you don't approve of in front of me."
"You don't know that."
"I do, because that's what they told me," I say, hoping he'll believe it. I need to end this plan of his for me to spy on his teammates. I only agreed to it so he'd let me sit at his table, but now I'm there and his teammates love me so I doubt he'd make me sit somewhere else.
"What'd they tell you?"
"They asked if I'm spying on them for you. I told them I wasn't but they didn't believe me. They were saying they have to watch themselves around me."
"Who said it?" he asks. "Was it Dante?"
"Dante. Miles. Kade. The whole team thinks I'm spying on them for you."
"Fuck," he says, shaking his head.
He believes me. Maybe I'm getting better at lying.
"So having me go to the party won't do any good," I say. "I can still try to find out if they're—"
"Just forget it. I'll have to find some other way to keep them in line. I'm not letting them do shit that'll fuck up our season. We're gonna win every damn game, and if we don't, they're gonna pay."
He finally leaves. I wait until I hear the front door open and close before returning to the sliding glass door. I open it and go outside.
"Jackson?" I whisper.
"Over here."
He's standing by the railing that runs along the back patio. I run over there.
"Have you been here the whole time?" I whisper.
He turns to me and smiles. "You don't have to whisper. They're gone." He takes my face in his hands and kisses me. "I had to see you. I couldn't wait."
"Braden almost caught us! Do you know how pissed he'd be if he—"
Jackson stops me with another kiss. And then another, as his arms go around me, pulling me close.
I break from his lips and look up at his gorgeous face. He really should model, or go back to acting. A face that good-looking and a body like his need to be shown off.
"Jackson, I'm serious. We almost got caught."
"I'm sure we will eventually."
"You're not worried about that? About what will happen if—"
"Braden finds out? I don't give a shit. He doesn't get to tell me who I can date. He should know that by now."
I pause, trying to figure out what he means. Is he referring to that girl? The one they both dated? The dead girl?
"You mean because of Andrea?" I cautiously ask.
He backs away. "Who told you that?"
"What?"
"Who told you about Andrea?" he asks, raising his voice.
My hands feel clammy and my throat goes dry. I think I can trust Jackson but that story Shayla told me put doubts in my mind. People think Jackson killed that girl. Why would they think that? Why would they think he's even capable of that?
"Who was it?" he demands, grabbing my arm.
"Nobody." I shake my head. "It's just gossip I heard at school."
"People at Twisted Pine don't talk about me. Not anymore. They won't even say my name. They think I'm a traitor."
"That's probably why they were saying that stuff about you. To make you look bad."
"
What stuff? What were they saying about me?"
"Nothing. Just forget it." I try to pull my arm away but he keeps hold of it.
"What did they say about Andrea?"
"That she got drunk at a party." I pause. "And fell. Over a railing just like this one." I look down at it.
"They said it was an accident?"
I nod really fast.
"You're lying."
"I'm not," I insist, but it sounds fake. I really need to practice lying. Apparently, I suck at it.
"Who told you?" he asks.
"Told me what?"
"What happened to Andrea. They didn't say it was an accident. If they did, you wouldn't be shaking right now."
"I'm not shaking."
He holds up my hand, which is shaking.
"I'm shivering," I say. "It's cold out here."
He drops my hand. "Why do you keep lying? I thought we were friends. MORE than friends."
"We are." I take a breath. "Okay, yeah. I might've heard you were involved. But I heard Braden was too."
Jackson takes a step back, folding his arms over his chest. "Tell me who told you this."
Not wanting to involve Shayla, I say, "A girl at school. People say she's crazy. Makes up stories and stuff."
"Peyton?" he says.
"Yeah. You know her?"
"From when I went to school there. We also had a job together."
"What job?"
"When we were kids, maybe five or six, we were on a show together. She played my sister."
"Really? How long did you do the show?"
"Not long. It only ran for a season. Even back then she was crazy. She'd make up stories about the crew, saying they hit her or yelled at her."
"And it wasn't true?"
"No. I even saw her bruise herself, then run to the director and blame the camera guy."
"Why would she do that?"
"For attention. Or to create drama. She gets bored easily so she creates stories in her head that aren't true but tells them as if they are. Eventually people in the business caught on and stopped hiring her. She was actually a good actress. She could've gone far if she wasn't making up stories about people."
"I sat with her at the game. It was her idea, not mine. I was sitting with Brock and she wouldn't leave me alone. She told me about her and the principal."
"That story is actually true."
"So she tells the truth sometimes, but not always."
"What'd she tell you about Andrea?"
"That people think you or Braden did it."
His eyes lock on mine. "What do YOU think? You think I did it?"
"No!" I nervously laugh. "Of course not. You're not a killer."
"Is Braden?"
"I don't know. Maybe. I could see him doing it more than you."
He cocks his head. "And why is that?"
"Because you care about people. You wouldn't intentionally hurt someone."
"What if it wasn't intentional?"
I'm sweating and my throat's getting drier. I feel like he's telling me something. Almost like he's confessing.
"What are you saying?" I ask, breathing hard as I grip the railing.
He glances at my hand on the railing, then looks back at my face. "I wouldn't kill someone. Even if she betrayed me."
"She betrayed you?" I take a breath. "How?"
"She went back to him, after promising me she never would."
"You mean Braden."
"I never wanted to get involved with her. She was Braden's girl and they were always breaking up and getting back together. But one night she showed up at my door, crying and saying he hit her. She said it was over between them. That she'd never go back to him."
"Braden hit her?"
"She said he did. He denied it."
"Did she have any marks?"
"Not that I saw, but it doesn't mean he didn't do it."
"And then what? How'd you end up dating her?"
"She started coming over and we'd talk. One night it became more than that. It's not like we planned it. And we weren't dating. We never even went out. We just hooked up a few times and then she went back to Braden."
"When'd you find out she went back to him?"
"The night of the party. She called me, crying and saying she had a fight with Braden. She asked me to pick her up."
"But you weren't allowed at the party. You're from Legion. They would've kicked you out."
"Which is why I waited outside the house. When Andrea didn't show up, I went looking for her." He pauses and looks down. "I never found her. A girl told me she left with someone else so I went home."
"I don't understand. You made it sound like you were involved. Like it was an accident but that you...did something." I chew on my lip, afraid to know more, wishing I'd never even heard this horrible story.
"I never should've let her go to that party. I kept telling her not to but I didn't try hard enough to stop her. I should've taken her keys. Locked her in my house. Anything to keep her from going that night."
"What are you saying? That you think it's your fault because you didn't stop her?" I step closer to him. "Jackson, it's not your fault. It was her decision to go there that night, and her decision to get drunk and fight with Braden." I take his hand. "You didn't kill her. You had nothing to do with what happened to her."
His eyes lift to mine. "So you believe me?"
"Of course. Why wouldn't I?"
"A lot of people don't. They think I did it. The only reason I'm popular at Legion is because I win them football games. If I didn't play sports, people would run from me."
"I'm sure not everyone there thinks you did it."
"Most of them do. In a way it's been good. People leave me alone."
"But you have friends, right?"
"The guys on my team. They know me well enough to know I didn't do it. Some of them think Braden did it. The guy's got a temper like I've never seen. He doesn't just get mad. He fucking loses it."
"Was he like that when you guys were friends?"
Jackson lets out a humorless laugh. "She told you that too, huh? That Braden and I used to be friends? Fucking Peyton just can't keep her mouth shut. How'd you even start talking about me?"
"We were talking about the game. She said you used to be their best player."
"People said that, but personally, I thought Jason was better than me. You know about Jason?"
I nod. "Yeah. His parents donated money to have one of the rooms at school named after him."
His brows rise. "Is that what they told you?"
"Yeah. Why?"
He shakes his head. "Nothing." He glances at the house. "We should get out of here. If we replace too much of the camera footage it'll be obvious it was tampered with." He takes my hand. "Let's go."
I follow him down the steps to the beach. "Wait, do I need to bring anything?"
"Depends on how long you're staying."
"How long will you let me?"
"You can stay as long as you want. Is Brock coming back tomorrow?"
"I don't know but he's at least gone for tonight."
We walk hand in hand down the dark beach, the only light coming from the moon and the few houses that have lights on inside.
"Were you friends with Jason?" I ask.
"Yeah," Jackson says in a quiet voice.
"Better friends than you were with Braden?"
"No." He glances at me. "I don't want to talk about this. It's the past, and not something I want to remember."
"Why didn't you tell me you used to be friends with Braden?"
"I thought it would affect what you thought of me. I didn't want you thinking I was like him just because we were friends."
"I wouldn't think that. You're nothing like him, except for you both being good at football."
"That's why we were friends. We started on the team together freshman year. We'd both come from private schools where sports weren't that important. When we got to Twisted Pine, they were starting to take sp
orts seriously, especially football. They were hiring the best trainers, best coaches. They were treating it more like a college sport than high school. Braden and I were determined to rise to the top. To be the best players the school had ever had."
"But you were better than him."
"Because I'd been training for longer. I've had to spend time in the gym since I was a kid so I'd look good on camera. Once I quit acting, I hired a trainer that worked with college football players. I asked him to train me like one. Let me do the drills. I even went to some team practices with him. Braden didn't have any of that. He worked out in the gym but he didn't have the football training that I did."
"What about Jason?"
"Jason was recruited."
"What do you mean?
"He wasn't one of us. He wasn't rich. He grew up poor in LA. The coach saw him play on his high school team and offered him a scholarship. The guy was amazing. He could've skipped high school and played at the college level. He was that good."
"So they paid him to come to Twisted Pine? I thought they only wanted kids who came from money. The principal even told me that when I met him."
"They made an exception for Jason. They needed him to win games. But then he died and they haven't had a recruit since. I'm sure they'll do it again. They're probably already looking for the next Jason."
"You think Braden did it," I say. My statement is just a guess but I want to see what he says.
"Did what?"
I get in front of him, stopping him. "You think Braden killed Jason."
He goes around me and keeps walking. "Jason had a heart problem."
"That's what they told people, but what if it's not true?"
"He had a heart problem. End of story." He walks faster down the beach.
"You don't believe that."
"I just said I did."
"Yeah but before you made it sound like you didn't. When I told you about his parents donating money for a room in his name, you made it sound like that was a lie."
"Of course it's a lie. His parents are poor. Where would they get money to pay to have his name on a room?"
"So what's the real story?"
"I don't know. I don't want to talk about it."
I grab his arm. "Jackson, wait."
"We have to keep walking. We can't just stand here. It's private property. We shouldn't even be back here."
We continue in silence down the beach. When we reach his house, we go up the stairs to the patio. I stop him before we go inside.
