Winter Untold (Summer Unplugged)

by Sparling, Amy

  It’s only seven in the evening and I’m not even a little bit tired but I close my eyes and breathe in the scent of him. I’d rather go to see a movie or get ice cream or just sit around and watch TV, but if the only quality time I can get with him between his business trips involves sleeping, I’ll take it.

  Jace’s iPhone has an alarm ring that could wake the dead. The sound of it, going off at four-fifteen in the morning, startles me out of my dreams. Jace doesn’t budge. I shake him a little bit, hoping he’ll wake up from his deep sleep and turn off the freaking alarm. The sound blares from his pocket so I reach inside and run my fingers over the phone until it finally shuts off.

  Jace yawns. “What’s going on?”

  “Your alarm just went off.”

  He opens his eyes, blinking a few times. “It did?”

  I roll my eyes and lay back down. “You were sleeping like a freaking zombie. That thing was loud. I bet it woke up the whole house.”

  He stretches out his arm and wraps it around my shoulders. “Sorry, babe. Guess I was passed out.”

  I tilt my head up for a kiss and Jace kisses me back but doesn’t pursue it much farther than a quick peck on my forehead. Which I guess is fine because I’m sure we both have morning breath. That logic doesn’t stop me from getting my feelings a little hurt.

  The hurt feelings only intensifies when Jace stands up a few minutes later, running his hands over his clothes and then through his hair. He checks the time on his phone and then glances at me, sliding his lips to the side. “Whelp, I’m out of here.”

  I practically jump off my bed. “What? It’s four-thirty in the morning!”

  “And I have a six a.m. flight to catch,” he says with a frown that looks a little bit forced.

  I feel like stomping my feel like a child but I hold back my bratty behavior just enough to say, “Why did you bother coming here if you could only stay a few hours?”

  “Because I had a few hours. Why wouldn’t I spend them with you?”

  Damn him. Always saying the right thing when all I want to do is be mad at him.

  His arms slide around my waist a second later, warm and strong as they pull me close. He rests his chin on top of my head and I close my eyes, pretending that just for a few seconds, he’s not about to leave me for work again. “I love you, Bayleigh.”

  “I love you more.”

  He shakes his head. “You wish.”

  By the time we tip-toe our way to the front door so as not to wake up my brother or mom, I’m feeling a little less bitter about the whole situation. He came to see me, after all. I should be happy about it. And I am happy about it. I just wish it was a longer stay.

  Waking up to one alarm in the morning is annoying, but waking up to a second one just three hours later really sucks. No one should be woken up from a blissful sleep twice in one morning. Especially when the second time you wake up alone and realize it’s a school day.

  Screw Mondays.

  After throwing on the first halfway decent outfit I could find, I head downstairs and root through the pantry for something that even remotely resembles breakfast food. If I leave within five minutes I’ll get to school early enough to hang out with Becca before first period. Monday mornings are gossip catch up mornings. Hell, who am I kidding? Every morning is gossip catch up morning.

  I shove a brownie in my mouth, sling my backpack over my shoulder and head out the front door. I’m staring at my cell phone when something soft crashes into me.

  Then it talks. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

  I look up to find myself facing my new neighbor, who’s wearing a puffy winter coat that’s a little too warm for mild Texas winters. I take a bite out of the brownie and take the rest of it out of my mouth. “Um, hello. What are you doing on my front porch? And why are you dressed like an Antarctic explorer?”

  Chase slips his thumbs under the straps of his backpack. “I came to take you to school, and it’s cold outside so I’m wearing a jacket.” He points to the thin sweater I wear over a t-shirt. “Aren’t you cold?”

  “Hardly. It’ll be hot as hell by noon. Where are you from, anyhow?”

  “Missouri. This is the lightest jacket I have.”

  “Ah,” I say, since his overdressing all makes sense now. “Well you won’t need that around here. It never gets too cold. It hasn’t snowed once in my entire life.”

  “Good to know,” he says. “So your mom suggested that I drive you to school since you were going to show me around anyhow. She said you normally walk when you can’t borrow her car.”

  Ugh. Thanks a lot Mom for blabbing about my entire life to the new neighbors who don’t need to know that we’re too poor to own more than one family car. It hasn’t escaped me that my new neighbors own three vehicles.

  Chase holds up the remote on his keychain, points it at a newer model Jeep in the driveway next door and presses a button. The engine roars to life.

  “Show off,” I mutter.

  He laughs. “Remote start is nice in Missouri winters.”

  I want to tell him that he can take his fancy jacket and expensive vehicle and drive himself to school, but I swallow my annoyance because it is cold outside and catching a ride with a stranger sounds better than walking two miles and freezing my ass off.

  The high school secretary is happy to welcome Chase to Lawson High, and she’s even happier to volunteer me to be his personal guide through the school, for as long as he should need. Her words, not mine.

  I’m a little annoyed at being assigned the babysitter to an eighteen year old senior who seems smart enough to navigate the hallways of our small school without someone holding his hand. I guess my new responsibility isn’t so bad. He is incredibly hot by Lawson High standards, and I’m his first friend, which means girls will be flocking to me asking me to put in a good word for them.

  Like that girl with the anchor tattoo on her arm who hasn’t stopped giving me dirty looks in the hallway ever since she discovered that I’m dating Jace Adams. I can’t wait to see the look she’ll give me when I’m walking with a hot new guy.

  Unfortunately, getting his schedule and signing in takes a lot longer than we thought and by the time we leave the office, first period has already started an no one lingers in the hallways to see me walking with my new acquaintance.

  “I have yearbook for first period,” Chase says, reading over his newly printed class schedule. I hold out my hand to stop him from walking head first into a concrete column in the middle of the hallway.

  “I have yearbook too. It’s this way.”

  A grin lights up Chase’s face. “Really? How crazy is that?”

  “It isn’t that crazy. Only seniors can be in the yearbook class and it’s a really small class this year so it only makes sense that they’d throw you in it.”

  “Good point, but I requested this class. I love photography.”

  I snort. “Sucks for you because yearbook is a lot more than photography.”

  “Geez, girl, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.”

  “Something like that,” I say, not bothering to tell him that the way I woke up this morning, suddenly blasted awake by Jace’s alarm only to have him leave me for the airport, is exactly why I’m in such a crappy mood.

  “Luckily other people’s sarcasm and general assholery does not affect me, so even though other people might find you hard to be around this morning, I want you to know that I am still in a great mood.”

  I cock an eyebrow and stop in front of the yearbook classroom. He laughs and pushes open the door. Ugh, that boy really annoys me.

  Ms. Jennifer, our yearbook teacher, spends the majority of all classes sitting in the back of the room, huddling over her cell phone, smiling in this creepy sort of way that makes me not want to know who she’s texting or what they’re texting about. She’s in her mid-twenties and the rumor is that she’s not even certified to be a teacher but she had a degree in journalism and our school was desperate. All I know is that her apath
y makes this the best class ever.

  Chase finally leaves me alone in favor of chatting up the yearbook editor, a senior named Eric. I work on my page layouts, choosing to use pictures of students who are my friends even though we’re not supposed to be biased. I don’t just use pictures of friends though. If someone is a bitch to me, you can bet I’ll find the most unflattering photo of them and make sure it gets a spot in the yearbook. That’s pretty much why the girl who talked shit about my best friend Becca will be featured on page sixty-four, smiling in the hallway with a shadow casting on her pants exactly in a way that makes it look like she pissed herself.

  Whoops! is the caption.

  I’m starting to get tired of peeking into my backpack to see if my phone has a new text from Jace. He was in such a rush this morning, I didn’t think to ask where he was going or how long the flight would take. Thanks to my forgetfulness, I’ve now become a phone-checking zombie, desperate for some kind of attention from the guy I love. Seriously. How the hell did people date each other before there was instant digital communication?

  “Bayleigh, if you’ll stop staring at the phone that you are totally not allowed to have in class, maybe you would be able to answer me?” Ms. Jennifer hovers over my desk, hands on her hips.

  “Shit,” I say, before dropping the phone back into my backpack and sitting straight in my desk. She’s cool and she won’t take away my phone, but still, no one likes to be given the stare by a teacher. “I’m really sorry, it’s a…family thing,” I say in a quick scramble to come up with an excuse that will keep me out of trouble.

  The look on her face tells me she doesn’t believe my made up excuse. “I asked if you will be attending the town’s Winter Festival?”

  I nod and she smiles and tosses a camera bag on top of my desk. “Awesome. You’ll be our second photographer.”

  “Wait, what?” I put my hand over the bag, wishing I could give it back. “I can’t take photos for the yearbook on that night. I’m—I’m busy.” Jace flashes across my mind. If he doesn’t get out of work then he won’t be able to come with me to the festival and technically, I won’t be busy. I’d have the whole night free to take as many photos as she wants, but I can’t let her know that. And I can’t think that way. Even though the chances are slim, I have to believe that Jace will make it for the festival. For my birthday.

  “Bayleigh, you are one of my best photographers and if you’re already planning on attending then it won’t be a problem for you to snap a few photos. She nudges my backpack with her toe, alluding to the cell phone incident a month ago. “Be a team player, and I will be one too.”

  “Fine,” I say with a sigh. “I’ll be happy to take some pictures.”

  As the rest of the class busies themselves with going back to work on the yearbook, I stare at my page layouts and stacks of numbered photographs but I don’t work on anything. My mind is far away, worried about Jace and obsessing over this stupid photography thing. Normally it wouldn’t be a big deal. I actually like taking photos for the yearbook—it gets me out of all kinds of school work.

  But I have a bad feeling about this. I had planned the Winter Festival-slash-my birthday as this magical night. The park is always decorated with Christmas lights and sparkly ribbons, and festive music plays from a live band. The air is cool and the food is amazing and I was going to have picked out the most amazing dress that would make Jace stop in his tracks when he saw me. I don’t have the dress yet, but I know I won’t be able to find one that makes my boobs look good while there’s a stupid five pound camera hanging around my neck.

  It’s as if all my hope was caught up in this fairytale dream of Jace coming to the festival, and this stupid camera bag just shattered it. It’s fate, telling me to stop daydreaming of romance and realize that my boyfriend is too busy for me.

  Maybe I should just wear sweatpants to the stupid Winter Festival.

  Chapter 4

  Becca is waiting for me after school as usual, but this time the look on her face is freaking priceless.

  “Becca, this is Chase,” I say, swinging a lazy hand between both of them. “He just moved in next door to me and he’s giving me a ride home.”

  “Oh I see how it is,” she says with a mock sarcasm. “You’re too good to get a ride home with me now, eh?”

  “Actually,” Chase interrupts with that stupid attractive smile of his, “You’re welcome to have her. She’s been a bit of a jerk today.”

  Becca giggles and it’s all I can do not to throw up from how much she’s flirting right now. Seriously. I mean she’s batting her eyes at him and everything. “Oh, you’ll have to get used to that,” she says, grabbing his arm for good measure. I mean, God forbid he flies away in the wind. “She’s always a bit moody.”

  I guess this sort of behavior is to be expected from her since she and her boyfriend broke up a month ago. Becca pokes at the camera bag slung over my shoulder. “What are you taking pictures of this time?”

  “The Winter Festival,” I say with a sigh.

  “That blows. Are we still going dress shopping?”

  I nod and start telling her about the camera strap and dress cleavage dilemma as we walk to the parking lot. Chase clears his throat. “You girls worry about the weirdest things.”

  My cheeks flush red as I look to my right, having totally forgotten that he was walking with us. “Oh my god, were you listening to our conversation?”

  “It’s kind of hard not to,” he says, smiling at Becca. “Besides, we’re all in this together. I need help making sure my camera strap doesn’t cover my cleavage, either.”

  “Shut up,” I say. “Wait, what do you mean by camera strap?”

  He holds up another camera case with the school’s logo on it. “I’m the other photographer. Guess you’ll get to show me around the festival as well.”

  Becca reaches for another slice of pizza while I continue my rant from the safety of my bedroom where freaking Chase can’t overhear us. “He is such a stalker! I hate him.”

  Becca rolls her eyes and pulls off the pepperonis. “You do not hate him. God, you’re such a bitch when you miss Jace.”

  “I know,” I say with a laugh. “I just really hate this new guy. I don’t need some hot guy moving in next door, trying to be my friend and smiling at me with his stupid perfectly white teeth. I need my boyfriend. Not him.”

  Becca’s eyes bulge out of her head. “Wait, do you like Chase?”

  “No, of course not.” I swipe all the pepperonis off her plate and eat them. “I only have eyes for Jace. It’s just annoying to be around another hot guy when all I want is my own hot guy.”

  “Okay, I can solve this.” Becca holds out her hands like she’s about to present to me the best idea ever. “I am your best friend and I am here to save you from crisis like this. So, in an effort to protect you from dealing with Chase, I will simply date him. That way he’ll be out of your hair.”

  “Out of my hair, and into your bed,” I say with a snort. “You are such a kind, thoughtful, selfless best friend.”

  “What can I say?” she says, placing her hand across her heart. “I am just that good of a friend. I will sacrifice my miserable single existence and take that boy to pound town for you.”

  I throw a pillow at her as she erupts into laughter. “Please don’t ever say the words ‘pound town’ again.”

  After dinner and a few more grossly inappropriate sex jokes by Becca, I log onto Facebook to see if anyone has posted anything worthwhile. And by anyone, I mean Jace. And by ‘anything worthwhile’, I mean anything at all. If the boy had time to update his Facebook but not text me, I’ll be a little more than sad.

  The good news is that Jace hasn’t been online all day. The bad news punches me in the gut.

  “Who the hell is this bitch?” The computer monitor warps into weird colors as my finger punches the screen on top of a photo of my boyfriend with some girl at what looks like a rich people party. Jace didn’t upload it, he was tagged in it last nig
ht by the girl in the picture. There is no caption. But there doesn’t need to be one. I can see all I need to know in the picture. Her: beautiful and older than me, with her arm around my boyfriend. Him: gorgeous as always, beer bottle in one hand while the other is around her shoulders. He’s smiling and he doesn’t look tired at all.

  It feels like all the air has been sucked out of me. Becca lets out a low whistle under her breath as she hovers behind me at my desk. “I’ll kill her,” she whispers in a true best friend fashion.

  I shake my head. “It’s not her fault. She probably doesn’t know he has a girlfriend.”

  Becca’s hand touches my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Bay. Maybe it’s not that big of a deal. It’s just one photo, it’s not like they’re sucking face or anything.”

  I turn off the computer and wipe the tears from my eyes. “I’m sorry but I think I just want to be alone right now.”

  She nods and gives me the saddest look. “I’m just a call away, okay?” she says before leaving me to wallow in my sorrows.

  Jace texts me an hour later, telling me some crap about how he’s been trying to call but doesn’t get good cell phone signal where he’s at. He asked me to reply if I got the message and to tell him what time it is so he knows if he gets it late. Well guess what? I don’t reply. I can’t find the energy to say anything.

  I know Jace loves me but I feel so inadequate. I’ve always felt that way with him. And then right when I think I get a hold on it—right when I feel like we might be equals—something happens that throws me back into reality where I remember that he is so out of my league.

  Jace goes to parties and takes photos with random girls. I go to small town festivals and take photos for a high school yearbook.

  A flash of red dives across my darkened ceiling. I look for it again, but see nothing. It must have been my imagination. Even though my phone lights up in a whitish glow, I glance at it just in case. It still has the same three messages Jace has sent me and nothing more.