Winter Untold (Summer Unplugged)

by Sparling, Amy

  I roll my eyes. “What are you, some kind of psychologist?”

  “No, I’m just a seventeen-year-old with a logical head on my shoulders.”

  “Ugh,” I groan. “You can be really annoying.”

  He looks over and gives me a smirk. I punch him in the arm. “But, thanks for the advice.”

  Chapter 12

  I’ve been wake for thirty minutes on Saturday morning, which means I’ve spent a whopping twenty-nine of them trying to follow Chase’s advice and ‘live for myself’. The first sixty seconds of the day were a total waste because I laid in bed staring at my cell phone, wishing I had something new from him. Then I pulled my shit together, got dressed and went for a run around the neighborhood. The Bayleigh who lived for Jace didn’t go for runs…she just sat around hopelessly waiting to hear from her boyfriend.

  The new Bayleigh, the one who lives for herself, doesn’t do that. Nope, she runs and frees her mind from all thoughts of boys. Okay, maybe I’m still trying to figure that part out. After my run, I took a quick shower and went to the kitchen to make some breakfast. Mom isn’t awake yet and Bentley seems to have already made himself breakfast, if the drops of milk and bits of cereal on the counter are any indication.

  I eat my own bowl of cereal and watch TV, purposely choosing a girly makeup-themed reality show that I know Jace can’t stand. I’m doing a really great job of living for myself. I’m actually proud of my progress, even though it’s been only less than an hour. I’m not even thinking too much about the Winter Festival tonight and how I’ll be going without a date. Yep, I’m a changed girl now. I live for myself. Then my phone lets out the chime that signals an incoming text message, and all bets are off.

  I catapult off the couch, barely setting down my cereal bowl without spilling it everywhere. My phone is upstairs where I left it this morning, thinking I didn’t need the temptation of seeing it constantly because then I’d want to check it constantly. However now I’m pissed that I have to run across the living room, up a flight of stairs, down the hall and into my room to get it. It could just be anyone else texting me but I have a really good feeling it’s Jace.

  It is a message from Jace, but it’s not a text…it’s a picture. My foot taps anxiously on the floor as I wait for the thing to download. The signal in my house is awful and it takes a good two minutes for the message to finally show up. When it does, I’m confused. I was imagining it would be a picture of him, but it’s a picture of a piece of paper on top of a tacky hotel bed sheet. I click the picture and zoom in, trying to make sense of the rectangular piece of paper.

  The first thing I see is a tiny black picture of an airplane in the top corner of the paper. Then I see Jace’s name. It’s a boarding pass. Chills whoosh over me as I read the words on my phone screen. It’s a plane ticket. To Houston.

  And it lands in three hours.

  I’m so excited I might throw up. Another text comes in a few seconds later, this time it loads instantly.

  Jace: Hope you have your dress ready!

  Tears of happiness had pooled in the corners of my eyes at the first message, but the second one sends me into full freak-out mode. I never bought a dress! I have nothing to wear tonight! Thanks to my morning run, my hair isn’t even washed. Oh god oh god oh god.

  When I emerge out of the shower a little while later, my only thoughts are concentrated on getting to the mall ASAP so I can find a dress and then begging Becca to help me with my hair and makeup. My mother has other plans.

  “Happy birthday!” I hear in a chorus of cheers from my mom and little brother as I walk downstairs in search of my hair dryer. On the kitchen island sits a cookie cake with my name written on it in icing. It’s circled with what is probably eighteen candles, though I don’t bother to count.

  “Aw, guys thank you,” I say as I untwine the towel out of my hair. As usual, Mom has her camera ready to snap a photo of me. At least no one else is here (like Jace) to witness my embarrassment at being pictured next to a cake wearing pajamas and having soaking wet hair.

  Even though all I want to do is run around and freak out about Jace and the Winter Festival, I squash as much of my anxious freak out as I can, and try to enjoy some family time with them. Bentley gives me a present that he wrapped in Christmas paper, saying Christmas is close anyway and it’s just wrapping paper so it doesn’t really matter.

  I open it to find a collection of photo frames made out of Legos, all including funny pictures of us throughout our lives together. The adorableness of his gift has me completely forgetting about Jace. I hug him and promise to cherish the frames forever.

  Mom says she needs to get her present for me next and walks to the hall closet. Curious, I watch her pull out a black garment bag that has a pink bow and a card attached to the hanger. I pull off the card first. It’s a gift certificate to Nina’s Beauty Salon—good for a manicure and hair styling…for two.

  “Why is it for who people?” I ask, barely able to contain my excitement. I could totally use this today to help me get dressed for the festival.

  Mom smiles. “Well it was Becca’s idea. She knew you were worried about the festival tonight, so I figured I’d get both of you girls set up for the evening. You have an appointment in thirty minutes.”

  I dive across the couch and wrap my arms around her. “Oh my god, Mom, you’re the best!” She hugs me back and says simply, “Duh.”

  “I haven’t even told you the good news yet,” I say, remembering my text from Jace that resulted in my jumping into the shower before telling anyone else about his plane ticket. “Jace is coming home today, just in time for the festival.”

  She nods. “Oh, I know. So does Becca.” She nudges the black garment bag. “Open your other present.”

  I unzip the bag to reveal a beautiful shimmery blue strapless dress. My mouth falls open. The dress is amazing. It’s absolutely perfect. “How did you…?” I begin, unable to find the right words. How did she pick the greatest dress possible?

  Mom laughs. “Becca and I bought it out when you stayed late at school. Jace had told her through Facebook that he wanted to surprise you for your birthday and she was afraid that you had given up on the idea of going to the festival.”

  I am both elated and annoyed that my mom and best friend knew about Jace’s surprise visit and didn’t tell me. But then again, it wouldn’t have been much of a surprise. “Thank you,” I say, feeling overly emotional. “I’m going to call Becca.”

  “She’ll be here in a minute,” Mom says just as the sound of Becca’s car engine roars from our driveway. I hear her door close and I run to the door to greet her, excited for the next few hours of getting all fancied up for what will surely be the greatest Winter Festival in the history of Lawson.

  Chapter 13

  The timing of our salon appointment means I have to drive to the airport to pick up Jace while wearing a face of makeup and a head of gorgeously-styled hair. It’s worth it though, to see the look on his face when he steps out of baggage claim and sees me for the first time.

  “Nice pajama pants,” he says as he grabs me in a hug that lifts me off the ground. “It really goes with your hair.”

  “Well I couldn’t very well wear a fancy dress to the airport,” I say, squeezing my arms around his neck while he spins me in a circle before setting me down. As much as I want to make out in the airport, I also want to get the hell out of here so no random girls recognize him and beg for autographs, ruining our special time together.

  Luckily, we make it out of the airport and to the truck, walking hand in hand and with no interference. Jace is excited to see his truck again, claiming that taking taxis everywhere gets really old, really fast.

  “I took care of her,” I say as I climb into the passenger side. I prefer sitting over here. Because when I’m on this side of the truck, it means Jace is on the other side. And that’s exactly where I want him: with me.

  Jace plucks a photo of himself off the dash where I had placed it the day after he loa
ned me his truck for the week. “I can see that,” he says, handing me the photo. “You can have this back.”

  We spend a couple hours at my house, gorging on cookie cake and hanging out with Becca until it’s time to go to the festival. Bentley entertains Jace in the living room while Becca and I get dressed in my bedroom.

  I admire my pretty new dress in the mirror. “It’s beautiful…especially the cleavage part. Too bad I have to wear that stupid camera,” I say with a frown.

  Becca fastens a pearl earring and joins me in front of the mirror. “Negative. I’ve already arranged to take the pictures in your place.”

  “No freaking way,” I say. Becca hates yearbook class and she really hates doing anything that promotes school spirit. She shrugs. “Consider it part of your birthday present.”

  When Jace and I arrive at the Winter Festival, I can’t stop smiling from ear to ear. The park is decorated in a bazillion clear lights and the food smells amazing. Everyone is in a great mood and the weather is absolutely perfect. It’s not too cold, but still chilly enough to give me an excuse to snuggle up against my boyfriend, who is looking ridiculously hot by the way.

  We drink hot chocolate and wave at Becca every time we run into her. She’s made it her goal to photograph as many unpopular students as possible in her own way of sticking it to the popular students.

  Even though Jace isn’t much of a dancer, I’m thrilled when he takes my hand and leads me onto the makeshift dance floor that’s usually a basketball court. A band plays Christmas carols under the basketball goal, and spotlights light up and change colors, turning the concrete into a colorful winter wonderland.

  Everything is so perfect and yet so disheartening at the same time. All night, I’ve tried to focus on the good and happy things. I’ve tried to ignore that hint of sadness that keeps poking its head around the corner, reminding me that tonight will only last a few hours and then life will go back to normal, with Jace in another town and me here missing him.

  “So how long are you staying this time?” I feel the disappointment creep into my bones before he can answer. He’s probably leaving tonight. Maybe tomorrow morning if I’m lucky.

  Instead of answering me right away, he lifts an eyebrow, pretending to be confused. “What do you mean?”

  I squeeze his shoulders in frustration. “Don’t play dumb with me. You know what I mean. When are you going back on the road to go do fancy famous people stuff?”

  He laughs. “Did I forget you tell you?” he asks with a coy smile tugging at his lips. My chest goes cold as I stare into his eyes, wondering what he’s keeping from me.

  “Tell me what?”

  He hesitates, clearly enjoying the thrill of leaving me hanging in the balance. His fingers tighten around my waist and we sway gently to the music. He kisses my forehead and I roll my eyes. “Tell me already!”

  “I’m not doing any more fancy famous people stuff,” he says.

  “What do you mean?” I ask, afraid to get too excited just yet. I’m sure the other shoe will drop soon.

  He smiles. “I quit. I’m done with it.”

  “What?!” I stop dead in the middle of the dance floor. That was his dream, there is no way he quit. “Why did you--?” I begin, stopping when I can’t finish my sentence. “You didn’t get in trouble again, did you—”

  He cuts me off with a shake of his head. “No babe, I didn’t get fired. I really did quit. I’m keeping my job at Mixon where I can help train kids to be professional racers. I don’t want to be a professional racer anymore…it isn’t worth it. Fame isn’t worth it.”

  There’s a seriousness in his eyes that tells me he’s being sincere. He truly feels that way, and my heart leaps with happiness that his true feelings just happen to align with mine.

  “I want to be with you forever,” he says, looking around and gesturing to the festivities going on all around us. I’m almost startled by the sight of all the lights and people because being with Jace had made me forgotten that anyone existed besides us. “I want this. I don’t want fame.”

  I can’t say anything for a long while. I just bury my head into his chest, close my eyes and sway to the music, getting lost in the wonderful feeling of being in the arms of my love. When I do speak, I say the first thing that comes to mind.

  “This is the best birthday present ever.”

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Amy Sparling is a Texas native with a passion for young adult literature. In her free time she participates in an unhealthy amount of Xbox playing, attends nerd conventions and reads books with her daughter. Amy Sparling is a pen name for author Cheyanne Young.

  You can tweet her @Amy_Sparling or visit her at www.AmySparling.com

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