Pep Talks (Pepper Jones Book 4)

by Ali Dean

  The pace is fast, maybe faster than I can handle for six kilometers, but I don’t overanalyze it. I just go. I run to set free all the negative energy weighing me down. The more my chest and legs struggle with the pace, the stronger the sense of liberation. A jolt of levity soars through me and reenergizes my muscles, making me go even faster.

  When I finish tenth overall, and first for my team, I’m blown away. I’m confident and I know I’m fast, but these are some of the best runners in the country, in the world even. Some of the top runners from Ethiopia and Kenya go to colleges in the states, and I raced them today.

  I didn’t just hold my own. I rocked it.

  Despite the ache and uncertainty haunting me where Jace is concerned, I’m riding a wave of exhilaration as my teammates join me after the race, patting me on the back and recapping their own races. Even Kiki and Sienna, seniors and team captains, seem joyful to have been bested by their freshman teammate. My finish today puts UC on the map. When people talk about contenders for the national championship, we might make the list. The goal to simply qualify for Nationals seems far too easy now, and I have little doubt Coach Harding will be revising the women’s team’s goals soon.

  I’ve never felt such a part of a team before. Most girls on the team raced well, some didn’t, but we placed third overall, which is way better than we expected in this field of top teams. And that’s the main thing everyone rejoices in as we head back to the hotel for showers before catching a flight back to Colorado. Home.

  The team is officially “dry” for the rest of the season, meaning no drinking. Before I became a college student, it never would have occurred to me that athletes competing at this level would need to institute a team rule to hold everyone accountable for the season. Now that I’ve seen just how rampant and commonplace binge drinking is every night (and especially on weekends), it makes sense. Not joining in the festivities is defying the natural order of things, and to do that, it takes team solidarity, at least for most of us.

  When we get back to campus, the thrill of racing in the first big meet of the season has taken its toll, and we’re all exhausted. Partying isn’t even on our radar as we say our goodbyes, make plans to meet for recovery runs tomorrow, and head our own ways. I’m not going back to my dorm though. I have somewhere else I need to go.

  I texted Jace and tried calling him earlier, and he hasn’t responded. That doesn’t stop me from walking straight to his apartment, still carrying a giant duffel bag from the trip. I’m not going to sit around and let him push me away like this anymore. It’s too painful, and we’ve been best friends for far too long for him to treat me like this. He’s come so far since we’ve been more than friends too, and letting him treat me like this isn’t going to help him or our relationship.

  Taking a deep breath, I knock on his door, and Frankie answers a moment later. He’s barefoot and wearing sweats, clearly having no intention of going anywhere tonight. The football team might not initiate a “dry” policy, but after their last hooray last weekend, most of them lie low for the rest of the season.

  “Hi, Frankie. Good game today.” He knows why I’m here, and he lets me in.

  “Thanks. How was your meet in Cali?”

  “Great. Awesome, actually.” I glance around the small apartment as I respond, and find no sign of Jace. His bedroom door is open, but he’s not inside.

  “Jace went out, Pep. I’m not sure where, but you’re welcome to hang here, if you want,” he offers. Frankie’s always been friendly, but there’s the distinct sound of pity in his voice tonight, and it makes me nervous. I’m inclined to ask him what’s going on, but I have a feeling he doesn’t know any more than I do. Besides, I don’t want to put him in the position of coming between Jace and me. My heart clenches at the thought that it may come to that.

  I hesitate, but decide to take him up on the offer. My only other options are to go back to the dorm or wander around campus looking for Jace, and I’ve already done both of these things on other occasions without great outcomes. “You sure you don’t mind if I stay?”

  “Not at all, but…” He pauses, and his cheeks redden. The sight of a 300-pound guy blushing is precious. “A girl is coming over soon.”

  “A girl, Frankie?” I give him a hard time.

  “It’s the girl from that night,” he admits, and I know he’s talking about Lizzie Valentine. “We started seeing each other again recently.”

  “That’s cool,” I say and pat him on the back in reassurance. We settle on the couch, absently watching ESPN. Frankie’s presence helps, but I’m tied up in knots, wondering where Jace is and what he’s doing.

  At a commercial Frankie turns to me. “I’m worried about him too, Pepper. Do you know what’s going on with him?” he asks, and I realize Frankie has no idea.

  “He hasn’t said anything?” I don’t know why I’m surprised. It just seems like Jace would mention something about it to his roommate. He hadn’t told Wes either, which tells me he hasn’t spoken about Annie to anyone at all. Maybe Jim, but probably not. I’m pretty sure Jace learned about burying his emotions, to some extent at least, from his father. I really can’t imagine them having a heart to heart.

  Frankie sighs. “Is it his mom? She hasn’t come to watch any practices in a while, and he hasn’t mentioned her either.”

  “What did he tell you about the day he disappeared?” I wonder.

  “Just that something happened with his mom. He was apologetic about it but wouldn’t tell me any details. And then he seemed fine for a week, so I didn’t worry. I thought maybe something was up with you guys because he changed again after a date with you.”

  I give Frankie a very basic rundown of what happened. Even though it’s Jace’s business to share his life, it bothers me that Jace has closed out Frankie too. I don’t tell Frankie about Annie’s history with drugs, or that she already abandoned him once. I just tell him that she moved without really talking to Jace about it beforehand, and he’s upset about it.

  “And yeah, I guess you were right about something being up with us too. That’s why I’m here. He can’t avoid me forever.”

  When Lizzie arrives, we chat awkwardly for a moment before the two of them go into Frankie’s bedroom and I find a movie on TV to help pass the time. When it’s over, and there’s still no sign of Jace, I go into his bedroom. Sitting on his bed, alone, I’m flooded with anxiety. What if he comes home with another girl? What if he’s doing drugs again? It terrifies me that I went from trusting him completely only weeks ago, to now, when I’m questioning everything. This time last year, our commitment to each other was tested by outside forces most young couples would never withstand, but our faith in each other remained strong. Now, here I am, staring at his mostly-blank walls, imagining the worst in him.

  It doesn’t escape my notice that the photo he kept of Annie on his dresser is now gone. He’s still got a photo of me, so that’s something.

  Though I’m tempted to run, to avoid getting hurt more by this boy, I try to remember what Gran and Wes told me: patience. Like Wes said, Jace wants to know if I’ll be there for him no matter what, which means I have to be prepared for him to push me away. I just don’t know if I can take it. It’s different for friends or family. Jace is more than that. He’s the love of my life. And he has the ability to break me as much as I do him.

  If I let him push me past breaking point, we both lose.

  It’s three AM when he returns. No girl with him, and he’s not drunk. The relief at that has me reaching for him. Longing for him to just hold me. But he remains at the foot of his bed, watching me like I don’t belong here.

  “What are you doing, Jace?” I ask quietly.

  “Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?” The harshness in his tone startles me.

  “I’m here to talk. I have things to say to you.”

  He begins to take his shoes off. “Okay, talk then.”

  His words and their coldness nearly send me running right there and then.
I guess he didn’t need to cheat on me with girls or drugs to send me away. But I have to say it.

  “I’m here, Jace, and I’m not going anywhere. You can’t hide from me, from everything, forever, you know.”

  “What makes you think I’m hiding from anything?” He tugs his shirt off before working on his pants. He’s undressing in front of me, and I can’t help the desire that tugs at my gut as he does.

  “You hardly speak to me. You’re avoiding me.”

  Jace gets in on the side of his bed, in nothing but his boxer briefs now. “I guess it’s time for me to do this, then.”

  “Do what?”

  “Look, things were good with us, Pepper. But it’s time to enjoy college for what it is. I’m not a relationship guy. I tried and I just don’t want to do it anymore.”

  My throat goes dry as sandpaper. He’s not looking at me. He’s sitting in bed, staring at his hands, and everything in me wants to believe he’s lying.

  “That’s not true,” I whisper.

  His eyes dart to mine briefly, and I know mine are filled with tears. “It is. And I’m sorry.”

  A logical, detached part of me knows what he’s doing and knows it’s because he’s afraid of losing me. He’s dumping me before I can dump him. But when he’s detached and cold like this, it’s hard to think I could affect him at all.

  “You’re a coward, Jace Wilder.” It’s all I can get out before I run.

  Chapter 17

  I race across the quad, my duffel bag making my gait awkward, but my sobbing gasps are the real thing that makes the couple making out on the sidewalk turn and stare. I’m shattered. No matter the reason for Jace doing this, it’s irreversible. We will never be the same again. And as I struggle up the stairs and into my room, I don’t think anything I’ve ever felt hurts this much. The agony is bone deep. My insides, my skin, my stomach, head, and definitely my heart, feel the utter misery of this loss.

  It takes a while before I realize I never made it to my bed. I’m curled up in a ball on my floor, and if someone walked in they might think I was shot in the stomach with the way I’m rocking back and forth moaning. It hurts so much.

  Words don’t mean anything. He’s avoided me because he doesn’t want me anymore. I can seek reassurance from Wes and Gran that he’s emotionally damaged, and it has nothing to do with his love for me. But it doesn’t even matter. He’d rather be without me. That’s the brutal truth.

  And my words only mean so much too. I can tell him I’ll always be there for him, but I lied too. Because I can’t be there for him now. Not even as a friend. It’s all destroyed. And this is why it hurts so much. Because I don’t think I can have Jace Wilder in my life at all now.

  I gulp for oxygen, but even breathing hurts. I see Jace and me running into each other in ten or twenty years, and finally being healed enough to talk like old acquaintances. We’ll have both moved on. Cue another round of sobs.

  There’s a gentle knock on my door, and Caroline pokes her head inside. Her room is next to mine, and my meltdown must have woken her.

  “Hey,” she says quietly before sitting beside me. She begins to rub my back in circles, not saying anything. Her presence is soothing, and after a while I stop crying.

  Eventually, I sit up, hug her, and climb into bed. She tugs off my sneakers and tucks me in like a small child. I think I sleep a little, but even though the sun has risen when I wake, the world feels very dark.

  Out of habit, I change into running clothes. I can’t eat my usual banana and granola bar though. My stomach is in knots. When I come out of the bathroom after brushing my teeth, I find Caroline, Gina and Lexi waiting for me in the common area.

  “We’re going on a run,” Lexi declares, taking my hand. “Gina’s driving us to her special spot.”

  I don’t respond, just follow her to Gina’s car, and stare out the window until we arrive at a trail I’ve never seen before. I’m not sure how long we drove, but I thought I’d already discovered all the good running trails in and around Brockton.

  Apparently not. The four of us jog in silence along a creek, and I’m amazed we see no one else. That’s unusual on a beautiful Sunday morning. Eventually we get to a waterfall, and Gina leads the way up a boulder where we settle on top, the spray from the falls almost reaching us. I take my teammates’ silence as a sign of solidarity, but the clean air and beauty surrounding me only make me want to cry again. As soon as I stop running and am alone in my head again, the pain of his loss is overwhelming.

  I know I have to say something, even though my roommates likely already suspect what’s happened. “Jace broke up with me last night,” I say on an exhale. The words, and their meaning, unsurprisingly bring a round of tears, which I rapidly wipe away.

  Gina speaks first. “We’re here for you, Pepper, okay? Whatever you need.”

  Lexi and Caroline echo that sentiment, and I try really hard not to blubber. Here, on this rock, I know Gina has shared a spot that brings her peace that was hers alone. With all four of us watching the waterfall, a little light flickers in my aching heart. I’m creating new memories right now, even if tainted with the loss of old ones. It’s enough to get me through today.

  After the run, I know I need to stop by to see Gran. Lulu has designated herself as Gran’s live-in nurse and is staying in my room, which gives me some reassurance, but I still want to check in on her myself. There’s no way I can hide from her what’s happened, though, and I really don’t want to talk about it.

  Lexi and Caroline offer to come with me this time. Gina has a big project she has to do, but each of my roommates has come with me to visit Gran this week. It’s no surprise they enjoy visiting her. Even if she’s in no position to be baking and feeding them, she’s a hoot.

  The last thing I expect when I get there is to discover that Gran already heard about Jace breaking up with me from the boy himself. He hasn’t seen her since the hospital visit, but has been calling every day to check in. Even though it makes me angry beyond belief that he hasn’t shown up in person, a small evil part of me finds it reassuring that I’m not the only one he’s treating badly. No matter what, though, it’s impossible not to take his break-up personally. People can tell me all day that it’s because of Annie and Jace’s issues, but in the end, he didn’t want me.

  I’m expecting Gran to give me a spiel about just that – how it’s him not me – but she surprises me when she doesn’t talk about it all. She just hugs me. Hard. For such a small little lady, she can sure give a bear hug. It feels so good, and in that hug, I think she reaches in and takes away some of my pain.

  “Are you two pretty little ladies gonna help me take care of my granddaughter?” she asks Lexi and Caroline.

  “Gran,” I start to scold her.

  “Because,” she interrupts me, “she’s gonna need some watchin’ out for, you know.” Gran continues to go on about friendship, and Lulu pipes in with her own two cents. Caroline and Lexi sit in rapt attention, soaking in their words like they are gold.

  As the days go by, I know my roommates aren’t just checking up on me because Gran asked them to. I’m grateful they are there to keep me going, but sometimes I wish they’d go away so I can just immerse myself in grief. It’s weird that I crave that, but I need to replay all my memories with Jace all over again, through this new lens. Have I always been blind when it comes to Jace Wilder?

  There’s a hope I can’t squash that he will show up at my door begging my forgiveness. I’ve already imagined what I’ll say, how it will all go down. But as the days turn into weeks, and Jace doesn’t come back to say he messed up, that he didn’t mean it, that he was just hurting, I start to wonder if he has all of us fooled. Did I ever know him like I thought I did? His ability to shut me out like I don’t even matter frightens me. It makes me afraid of him and for him. Does anyone really know Jace Wilder?

  I see him once in a while, from a distance. He’s bold and hard to miss. The way he holds himself, leads his teammates on and off the field
, it draws people to him, puts him on a pedestal I don’t think he deserves anymore. He interests me, fascinates me, but I don’t have him figured out. I don’t think I ever did.

  It comforts me that he’s still in my orbit. That he hasn’t disappeared entirely, even if we never speak. But as the weeks tick on and he remains aloof, I find it increasingly difficult to stay away. This can’t be how we end. He can’t really want me out of his life. It’s been a month since he told me it was over, but I haven’t entirely accepted it. I’ve been certain he’ll regret it, realize it was a mistake he made in the midst of losing Annie, and we would hash it out and try to get back on track.

  I told him I’d always be there for him, and even though it hurts my pride to do it, I’ve got to show him I meant what I said. That’s what I’m telling myself when I knock on his door one Thursday evening. We are both traveling out of state this weekend for competitions, and I can’t wait another day to talk to him.

  He answers my knock, and I immediately struggle to breathe at the sight of him. He’s wearing athletic shorts, and that’s it. No shoes or shirt. There’s a pen behind his ear, which I find adorable. His jet black hair is a little longer and though it still flips up at the top without any styling on his part, the sides have grown out, giving him a bedhead that makes me want to reach up and run my fingers through. But I don’t have a right to do that anymore.

  He stands there, the door partially open, not inviting me in. He doesn’t say anything. Not even hello.

  “Can we talk?” I ask, cringing at the timidity in my voice.

  “I’m busy right now,” he says in a soft, pleading voice. He wants me to leave, but he doesn’t want to hurt me any more than he has. And yet, that’s the most painful thing of all. “I’m studying for a midterm,” he offers.