by Amy Sparling
She rolls her eyes. “Breaking the law is against your Team Loco contract.”
I sigh. “Yeah. And plus I’d have no idea where to get a fake ID.”
She smiles a little, and it warms me up inside. “How are you doing?” I ask, trying to keep my voice level. I don’t want to act like she’s fragile and breakable because she’s stronger than that. But I also would hate to say anything to make her feel worse. I know it’s going to take her some time to get over what happened. I’ve seen her check Twitter a few times since we started driving.
She shrugs. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t really seem fine…” I say carefully.
She looks over at me and then unbuckles her seatbelt and slides across the front seat. She rests her head on my shoulder and loops her arm through mine. I love being close to her. I kiss her hair while keeping my eyes on the road.
“It just sucks,” she says after a moment. “It just really sucks.”
I’m not going to insult her by making up some stupid comment like it’ll get better, when we both know these things take time to heal. “Yeah,” I say. “It does.”
Within minutes, she’s asleep in the middle seat of my truck, her hair falling over my shoulder. She’s not stressed when she’s sleeping, so I stay quiet and let her rest for the remainder of the journey.
“Baby,” I whisper a few hours later. “We’re here.”
She sits up and blinks. “We’re here already?”
“You slept a while,” I say with a laugh.
She yawns. This is the moment I’ve been waiting for, seeing her face as we pull up to the famous city she’s been wanting to visit. The barren Nevada landscape is a beautiful as it is different from Texas. We turn onto the Strip, which is really close to our hotel.
“Here we are,” I say, watching her while I drive.
She gazes around, but her expression doesn’t change. “Cool,” she says after a while. “The mountains are pretty.”
That’s not even close to the type of response I thought she’d give me. I wanted to see her face light up. I wanted her to smile so big it reaches her eyes. I wanted her to do that cute bounce up and down in the seat thing she does when she’s really excited. But even the allure of Vegas doesn’t help take away her pain.
I grit my teeth as I follow the GPS to our hotel. I wish I could personally curse out every asshole online who said those things to my girlfriend. I wish I could expose their secrets and embarrass them just as badly as they embarrassed her. I haven’t even checked Twitter lately. I know it’ll just piss me off more.
Still, I put on a smile and try to make Keanna’s day better any way I can. Once again, we check into a new hotel, and she’s happy when we’re up on the nineteenth floor and she can look out at the city below.
I set her flowers on her nightstand and walk up behind her while she’s gazing out the balcony window. I slide my hands around her and hold her tightly.
“I love you so much,” I whisper.
“I love you, too.”
I lean forward and kiss her cheek. “Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”
She turns around to face me, and I keep my arms around her. Her hands wrap around my neck and she peers up at me with this sad smile.
“I’m okay. I’ll be okay. I’m actually more worried about you.”
I frown. “Why would you worry about me?”
She shrugs and looks away. “I don’t know.”
“Baby, I’m fine,” I say, squeezing her closer to me. “I’ll win this race. I’m not the least bit concerned.”
She nods. “That’s good.”
Damn. Something tells me she didn’t mean she was worried about my racing ability.
We settle into the hotel’s oddly comfortable couch and watch some TV. The Vegas arena doesn’t open up early and won’t let us in to scope out the track like the other two had done, so there’s nothing to do but hang with my girl. I’m totally fine with that, because she’s the only thing in my life I truly care about.
Clay texts me around dinner time, asking if we want to go out to eat with them.
Me: No thanks, man. I’m spending time with my girl.
Clay: She feeling better?
Me: Honestly, not really. I thought Vegas would be special but it didn’t help.
Clay: So make it special
Clay: Fuck the haters and make it special, dude.
I read his text and think it over in my mind.
Me: You’re right. Thanks.
Chapter 9
Keanna
Vegas is as beautiful as it looks in the movies. The only thing I didn’t expect is that it seems a little smaller when you’re walking down the infamous Vegas Strip. But the lights are shiny and colorful and fill you up with just enough whimsy to forget your problems. We’d tried visiting the cupcake place I want to try, but it was closed for a private party. I hope we’ll get to go back to it before the trip is over.
Last night, Jett and I had gone with the guys to get dinner at some restaurant that had acrobats performing all around us. After the last two miserable days I’ve had, I welcomed the distraction. I was able to put on a smile and actually mean half of it. It’s kind of like magic, how getting out and doing something exciting makes you slip into a world of happiness that exists separately from your bleak real life. But as soon as we got back to the hotel last night, it all came back to me. Tidal waves of sadness pouring over me in ways I couldn’t hold back. But I tried to. For Jett, I tried.
We’d stayed up late watching a movie in the hotel, cuddling in the bed surrounded by its many fluffy pillows. I loved the way his chest felt—strong and warm as I laid against him, but I still hurt.
He didn’t ask me if everything was okay, or if I was feeling fine, or anything, so I think I did a good job of hiding this feeling that’s grown so big inside of me that I fear it’ll explode any day now.
Today is Friday, and Jett’s Vegas race is tomorrow. We’re supposed to do some sight seeing and find all the fun things you can do here when you’re not old enough to drink, but we made a plan to sleep in late first. After all these days of waking up early to drive, it’s nice to lay in bed with no schedule looming over you.
Only, I can’t sleep in late.
I’m laying here in this comfortable hotel bed, next to Jett, who is perfect in every way, and yet I’m not sleeping. I’m staring at the ceiling and chewing on the inside of my lip. It’s been hours since I last checked the drama online. I could tell Jett was watching me all night last night, hoping I wouldn’t look at social media, so I didn’t. But I can’t hold back anymore. It’s too tempting. It’s so stupid, I know, but it is what it is.
I look over at Jett and he’s sleeping peacefully, his breathing slow and steady. Carefully and slowly, I turn toward my nightstand and then wait, to make sure he’s still asleep.
I reach for my phone, then open up Twitter. I used to check this thing all the time and never think twice about it. I used to scroll through tweets while waiting in line at the grocery store, or during commercial breaks on my favorite TV show. It’s never mattered much until now.
Now, my hands are shaking and my stomach hurts and my heart pounds so hard I am certain it’s going to wake up Jett. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, but it doesn’t help. I have to see what these girls are saying about me online.
I just got another update from the slut’s old schoolmates. She used to wear the same three outfits all the time and they were never washed.
That one is kind of true. Many years of my life I only had one or two good pairs of jeans, and we only went to the laundromat whenever Mom had some quarters. For a while in ninth grade, I knew this girl who would let me spend the night and wash my clothes at her house. We were never really close friends though, I think she just felt sorry for me.
She would sleep with any guy who asked. Figures.
Not true. So not true. Ugh. I keep scrolling.
Oh, and now I’m being told that
she once gave a BJ to her high school teacher so he’d give her a passing grade in science. Why is Jett with this hoe? Like seriously???
Also not true.
Even though I know my heart will break as I read through this crap, I can’t help it. I can’t stop myself. I have to see what they’re saying about me. I have to know what everyone will be thinking if they see me at the races with Jett. What if Jett’s manager gets word of this? What if Team Loco fires him because of his girlfriend’s bad reputation?
The panic gets worse. Jett had to sign a contract with Team Loco saying he’d abide by laws and not make an embarrassment of the team with his actions. Surely that applies to the people he hangs out with too? His manager likes me, but probably not enough to overlook what everyone is saying.
I sit up in bed and throw off the covers, my skin suddenly so hot it’s burning. Jett stays asleep as I pace the room, my phone gripped tightly in my hand. I can’t do this to Jett. I’m going to ruin his career. It doesn’t matter that most of the bad stuff is false, because some of it is true. I am not a nice normal girl with a normal family who deserves Jett and his wholesome image.
The lump in my throat threatens to cut off my airway and I put my hands on the glass of the balcony door, willing myself to take a deep breath. Nothing helps my heart slow down. Nothing makes my hands stop shaking.
I look back at Jett, and I’m glad he’s asleep. He doesn’t need to see me lose my freaking mind right now.
When my vision gets blurry from all the pacing and hyperventilating, I drop into a chair and look out the window, trying to focus on something outside that will take away this panic. A few moments later, I’m looking at my phone again. I hate myself. I hate how this addiction is too strong to break.
Seriously, we need to start a petition to make Jett break up with her. He is so much better than her and he deserves better.
That one is true.
Jett is better than this. He does deserve better. He deserves more. I look back at my boyfriend and tears fall down my cheek. I can’t do it now because it would put a damper on his race tomorrow. I’m not sure how I’ll survive doing what I know I have to do. We are neighbors. Our parents are best friends. Breaking up with Jett is going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
I swallow and grit my teeth to keep my jaw from quivering. I swipe off the tears that are splashing on my shirt.
I guess I’ve known what I had to do all along. I don’t deserve Jett. I don’t deserve my family, either. Even though they adopted me, I’m a legal adult now so that’s meaningless. Park and Becca just felt sorry for me—that’s why they did it.
And Jett—he didn’t know about my true past. He didn’t mean to get caught up with someone like me. Those girls on Twitter are mean, but they’re right.
As soon as we get home, I’ll have to break up with the guy I love more than anything. And then I’ll have to leave, and let the people I care about go back to a life that’s better off without me.
Chapter 10
Jett
“You seem nervous.”
I look over at Keanna, who’s watching me with a frown. “Like…really nervous,” she says. “You’ll totally bounce back from that last race. I don’t think you should be so worried about it.”
Right. Tomorrow’s race. That’s what she thinks I’m nervous about. I take a deep breath and try to let some tension in my shoulders fall away. Now that she mentions it, I am nervous. My foot is twitching and my hands are tapping the steering wheel and there’s not even any music playing on the radio. I probably shouldn’t be driving right now with now nervous I am.
There’s something in my pocket that Keanna doesn’t know about. If she did, she’d probably know why I’m so nervous.
We’ve spent all day exploring Vegas and stopping at famous stores that have their own reality TV shows. We’ve eaten the famous cheese fries from that food show we like, and we took a trip through the famous pawn shop on the outskirts of town. The cupcake place was closed, but all in all, we’ve had a great day of being tourists. I haven’t even thought of the race tomorrow because I’m not worried about it. I’ve raced hundreds of times in my life.
But tonight’s event—I’ve never done it at all.
I know Keanna’s hiding some of her pain through a fake smile, but I think she’s feeling better. I did my best to make the day fun and eventful, and I’ve been careful not to mention anything that would make her think of Twitter. We will get through this tough time together and it’ll blow over eventually. I think it’ll really blow over after tonight.
Things are going to be perfect tonight.
The sun is starting to set, casting a beautiful glow on the city as I drive us back to the hotel. I’m running through the list of things in my head, hoping that the hotel’s staff was able to set it all up like I’d asked them to. It was difficult planning something this big in secret, and I did most of it through text and when Keanna took a shower this morning. I want everything to be special for her. I hope I did this right.
I grab her hand as we walk in through the hotel’s large lobby doors.
“We should go to bed early tonight,” she says. “That way you can be fully rested for tomorrow.”
“Mmhmm,” I say. “Sounds like a good idea.”
Little does she know, we probably won’t sleep at all.
My pulse races as we step off the elevator and head toward our hotel room. I’m about to find out if my plan has been put into place by all the people I recruited to help me.
I drop the key card when I go to open the door, and Keanna bends down to pick it up for me. “You okay?” she asks.
“Perfect,” I say. I slide the key into the lock and wait for the green light. I look at her as I push open the door. She smiles up at me. I draw in a deep breath. It’s show time.
The hotel room smells like roses and vanilla, which is better than I’d imagined it would be. Every piece of furniture is decorated with dozens of scented candles, all lit and casting a romantic glow in the room. The bed has been sprinkled with rose petals, and a beautiful red rose bouquet sits on the table next to her other flowers. Soft music plays from a radio in the corner, and I grin when I see the centerpiece on our small dining table. A dozen Vegas cupcakes, bought in advance by me, and arranged in the shape of a heart.
Keanna gasps, her hands going to her mouth. Then she turns around. “What is this? It’s not my birthday.”
I can’t hold back my grin even though my heart is pounding a mile a minute. I reach into my pocket and pull out the little velvet box that’s been patiently waiting all week. I drop down on one knee, so unbelievably nervous, and open the box.
Keanna almost looks scared at first, and then tears fill her eyes, and then she covers her mouth and I can’t read her expression.
“Keanna,” I say, swallowing quickly to get my voice back. I’m so nervous I can barely function. “You are the best part of me. I love you with all my heart and I want to be your husband for the rest of my life. Will you marry me?”
The next few seconds seem to slow to a crawl. Tears fall down her cheeks, and I think they’re happy tears, but I’m not so sure. I’m so nervous that she might say no, and all I want is to hear the yes. My hand shakes as I hold up the ring I picked out months ago. Finally, her hands fall from her face. This is it. Now she’ll say yes.
“I was going to break up with you,” she says.
My whole world seems to crack in half. “What?” I say, still on my knee, my heart rocketing around in my chest. This can’t be happening.
She shrugs and another tear rolls down her beautiful face. “I thought you deserved better than me,” she says, looking at the floor. “I thought it would be best to break up with you when we get home, and now you just proposed and I don’t even know what to say.”
“Oh my God,” I stammer. “Why..? I—”
She chokes back a sob. “I want to marry you more than anything, Jett,” she says as she wipes away tears. “I just feel like you can
do better. I know you can do better.”
“I don’t want anyone else,” I say, the words tumbling out of the deepest parts of my soul. “I only want you. And anyone who thinks differently can piss off. You are my angel and my soul mate and I just want you.”
A soft smile breaks through her tears. “Are you sure?”
I hold up the ring higher as if this shiny huge diamond is all the proof I need. “Yes.”
She smiles. “Are we doing this?”
I grin back at her. “Well, you haven’t said yes yet.”
She drops to her knees in front of me and throws her arms around my neck. “Yes,” she whispers. That single word wraps up all the pieces of my newly shattered heart and binds them back together. I hold onto her tightly and tell her how much I love her. When she pulls back, I take her hand and put the ring on her finger.
“Thank you,” I say. “For the most terrifying few seconds of my life.”
She chuckles, her gaze focused on her new engagement ring. She looks just as I pictured she would look when I bought it. “I can’t believe you want to marry me,” she says softly. “After all the drama…”
“That was nothing,” I say. “You and me, we’re perfect. We don’t have drama. Let others create whatever they want to make their lives more miserable, but when we’re together, we’re happy. And we’re all that matters, babe.”
I dry her tears with my thumb and pull her closer, placing my lips on hers. “For better or worse, I want you Keanna. Especially in the worse times. When everything else goes wrong, you are the only person I can count on.”
She climbs into my lap and now we’re both on the floor, clinging to each other like we can’t possibly stand to let go. It’s the best place in the world to be.
“Jett,” she says, peering at me with those eyes that melt my heart.
“Yes, love?”
“Will you take my phone and delete the Twitter app?”
