by Tara Kelly
“I didn’t have a plan.” Heat built behind my eyes. I squeezed them shut. “It was just supposed to work, because I wasn’t going to let myself screw up. Music is all I’ve got, you know?” My breaths quickened. “And I blew it—I blew everything. Told my dad to go to hell. I—”
“Whoa, Jasmine. Just slow down.” His fingers kneaded the back of my neck. “Nothing is set in stone.”
The warmth of his touch cascaded down my shoulders. “Then why do I feel like this?”
“Partly because you’re drunk. And partly because you hold in way more than you should. The two don’t go together.”
I looked over at him. “I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do.”
He put his hand over mine, giving it a little squeeze. “You don’t have to figure it all out tonight.”
My fingers weaved with his, and I found myself leaning into him. I wanted to rest my head against his chest and feel his arms around me, like at the club.
He pulled back some. “Do you want to lie down?”
My eyes focused on his mouth. I liked the shape of it, fuller than average. Kissable. I ran my thumb along the soft line of his lower lip.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I have no idea.” I craned my neck and inhaled, pressing my mouth against his.
His lips parted, like he was going to return the kiss, but he nudged me back. “Jasmine…” His eyes were wide, searching my face.
My heart thudded. “I—I’m sorry.” I turned away, scooting to the foot of the bed.
“It’s okay,” he said softly.
The knots in my stomach turned into a wave of nausea. A chill ran through my body. “I think I’m gonna—oh shit.”
Sean scrambled off the bed and put a small trash can in front of me. All I thought was Thank God it’s lined with a plastic grocery bag before an acidic liquid seeped into my throat. And then it felt like the entire day came spewing out of me, my body wrenching and shaking. Every time I tried to inhale, more came out, choking me. Sean stroked my hair, telling me I’d be okay. It would end soon.
But it didn’t. My breath went ragged and my eyes watered. I’d never felt anything this intense in my life. This awful. My gut jerked upward until there was nothing left but air and a bitter taste on my tongue.
And then I fell back against Sean’s warmth, closing my eyes. My cheek rested against his chest, and his fingers ran up and down my arm. We just stayed like that, neither of us saying a word.
Chapter 14
The ring tone version of Placebo’s “Meds” interrupted my dream of flying over the ocean. I felt around for the phone until I realized it was in the clutches of my other hand.
“Hello?” The roof of my mouth tasted like chalk.
“Did I wake you up?” Dad asked.
“Mmm-hmm.” My eyes flashed open. “Dad?” The sun-filled room made my temples ache. A room that wasn’t mine.
“I was hoping we could talk.”
A tattooed arm wrapped around the gray pillow next to mine. Sean was lying on his stomach, facing me, his eyes fluttering open. “Oh my God,” I said.
“Oh my God what?” Dad asked.
“Um, there’s a spider in my bed.”
Sean crinkled his brow, his lips twitching.
“So kill it,” Dad said.
The back of my throat felt as if it had been ripped apart and stitched together again. “Sorry, Dad. I—I have to call you back.” I snapped the phone shut and sat up, gawking at Sean.
He rolled over, draping his arm over his forehead. “A spider? Really?”
Tina’s dress still clung to my body, as did the black panty hose. I racked my brain to remember last night. Got kicked out of the band. Party. Bittersweet alcohol. Something about boots in the ocean. “What—why—what am I doing in here?”
“You got drunk and passed out,” he said.
“In your bed?”
He dropped his arm, squinting up at me. “You don’t remember anything?”
I yanked his black sheets off me. “Obviously not the important parts.”
“I would’ve slept in your room, but, um, a couple of people already found it.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“Remember what I said about unclaimed rooms becoming motels?”
I climbed out of the bed, hugging myself. “Great.”
Sean sat up and the covers slid off, showing his naked chest.
I tore my eyes away. “Are you—do you have any clothes on?”
“Yes, pants. Relax. Nothing happened with us.” He looked down at his hands. “Well, except you—”
“What? What did I do?” My body tensed. Please don’t tell me I hit on him or something.
He searched my face for a few painful seconds. “You told me some stuff, that’s all.”
Was he trying to give me a heart attack? “What stuff?”
“Just about your friend Jason. And your dad.”
I raked my fingers through my hair, remembering puking in a trash can and Sean’s soothing voice. God, this was humiliating. “I—I have to go.”
I opened his door and bolted, nearly ramming into Felix.
His eyes flicked from me to Sean’s door, his mouth making an O.
“Not what you think.”
“Are you feeling better?” he asked.
I glanced over my shoulder at Sean’s room. He hadn’t come out. “How bad was I last night?”
Felix crinkled his nose. “You were pretty drunk. I mean, we found you with Lushy McGee and you guys looked…close.”
“Who?” The name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t see a face. Not a clear one, anyway.
Felix shuddered. “He’s a huge manwhore—like, worse than Bryn. Be glad we found you when we did.”
“Um, thanks.”
“Do you need the bathroom?”
I rubbed my face, getting black smears on my hand. “Yeah—and bad, from the looks of it.”
“Just let me pee first.” He rushed in.
I walked to my room, afraid to see what was behind the white door. Images of naked strangers and a circus flashed through my mind. Please let my laptop and clothes still be here.
I shoved the door open and winced, hoping for the best.
The first thing that hit me was the odor, a mix of sweat, booze, and…salsa? My sleeping bag and pillow were on opposite sides of the room and several beer bottles lined the turquoise carpet, but it was people free.
I opened the closet. Everything was still inside. A miracle. Then I unraveled my sleeping bag. Shards of corn chips fell out and something red and lumpy was smeared inside. Either puke or salsa—I didn’t want to know which. Two condom wrappers were strewn nearby, one with something stuffed inside. It made my skin itch just to look at it.
I grabbed a tee and a pair of jeans from the closet and made a beeline for the shower.
A half hour later, I roamed the cliffs overlooking the Pacific. The sea was the closest thing to a god for me. Jason and I swore by coming down here to get rid of colds or a broken heart. I remembered calling him last night—why hadn’t he called me back?
I climbed the rocks, searching for one that was nice and flat, like a bench. It didn’t take long to find; there was always at least one.
Soft mist hit my cheeks as I sat, and my skin and tense muscles drank up the sun’s warmth. I shut my eyes, pretending there were no houses or slowing cars behind me. No tourists speaking fifty different languages. Not even any robo-joggers or squeaky baby strollers. I had the ocean all to myself.
And then I took a deep breath and called Dad.
“Did you get the spider?” he answered.
“Um, not exactly.” I shaded my face with my hand. “So, what did you want to talk about?”
“I wanted to see how you were.”
Neither of us was great at apologies. “I’m fine.” I squeezed my eyes shut, shaking my head. “Actually, I’m not. Things are pretty bad.” I was tired of pretending everything was okay.
“Why’s that?”
A large wave crashed against the rocks, dampening my face. It lessened the throbbing in my head. “I messed up my first show with the band. They kicked me out—and I need to be out of the house by the end of the month.” I took a breath. “And before you tell me it’s my fault—I know. I’m not making excuses.”
“Where are you going to go?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you still have that cashier job?”
Did I? Tina gave me the schedule yesterday. Before the show. “I have today off.”
“What about your car?”
Oh man. “I don’t know.”
“That sounds like a lot of uncertainty.”
I swallowed hard. Bryn owed me the $650 I gave him for July. But it would have to go toward a new place. “I’ve got no money. What am I supposed to do?”
“It’s not so easy out there, is it?”
“Spare me the I-told-you-so lecture, Dad. Please.”
“Then what is it you want to hear?”
I stared at the faint outline of a boat on the horizon. It looked peaceful and lonely. “That there’s hope. If I talked to the band and apologized. Maybe they’d give me another chance.”
“Apologize for what—messing up your first show?”
“They needed someone with live experience. I told them I had it, because—well, at first I really wanted the room. And then I heard them play, and they were so good. Me and the lead singer, Veta, hit it off right away. It just felt right, you know?”
“So you lied.”
I knew what he was thinking. “I had to. They wouldn’t have let me in if—”
“Nobody has to lie, Jasmine.”
I drew spirals into my jeans with my finger. “You lied to me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“About Mom—you told me she left to take a job in London.”
“You were five. What was I supposed to say?”
“It’s not like I didn’t overhear Grandma and Aunt Sari’s comments, or notice how they looked at me.”
“So you’re saying it’s my fault you lied?”
My hand clenched into a fist. “No!”
“Then tell me what you’re getting at, Jasmine.”
“Do you have any idea what it’s like to do everything you can not to be someone?”
“You’re being cryptic.”
“I’ve got her eyes, her love for music. Grandma couldn’t look at a single picture of me without saying, ‘You’d better watch this one. She’s got Michelle’s smile.’”
He let a few seconds go by before exhaling into the phone. “You can’t dwell on the past forever.”
“Our last conversation ended when you said I reminded you of her.”
“Your actions, not you. The good thing about actions is you can change them.”
“By doing what? Going to college right now? You may think I’m being selfish, but not going to college isn’t a crime.”
“No, but you’re putting yourself in a desperate situation. And for what? You’ve got options, Jasmine!”
An ache formed in my throat. Why didn’t he get it? “I feel like I’ve been trapped in a classroom my entire life. In junior high, it was all about taking the advanced classes, getting into Peninsula Hills. And Peninsula Hills was like going to college. That’s what they prided themselves on. I never had enough time for music. But I kept telling myself I would—someday. That’s what kept me going.”
“There’s no reason you can’t take music classes in college—even major in it.”
I rested my forehead against my hand. “I don’t want to experience it through theory books and lectures. It just wouldn’t be the same.”
“If you don’t go this year, you’ll keep putting it off.”
“I need to see this through, whether I fail or not.”
“I just don’t understand you, Jasmine.”
“Obviously.”
Neither of us spoke for a few moments. Two seagulls glided over the water, weaving around each other.
Dad cleared his throat. “Well, the ball is in your court. I’m here if you need to talk or want advice, but that’s it. I’m not—”
“Giving me money. I got it.”
“I wish you could see what I see.”
“Ditto.” What more could I say?
“I guess I’ll talk to you later, then,” he said.
“Wait…”
“Yes?”
“I…I don’t want you to hate me.” I shut my eyes, fearing what he might say next.
“I don’t. I just wish you’d wake up.”
“I know.”
A car door closed and an engine started on his end. “I’ve got a meeting to get to. But you know where to reach me.”
“Yep.”
“Bye, Jasmine.”
“Bye.” I snapped the phone shut, sucking in my breath. That was about as close to an understanding as Dad and I got. But I’d take it right now. Despite everything, I wanted him in my life—even from afar. And that surprised the hell out of me.
I watched a group of surfers try to cling to a wave. They were a mess of bobbing heads, arms, and feet. Maybe Bryn was out there. I wondered if he’d even talk to me at this point, or hear me out.
“You’re on my rock,” a voice said, followed by the crunch of footsteps.
I shaded my eyes and saw Sean hovering over me, the sun a halo behind his head. “I didn’t see your name on it.”
He held something small and shiny out to me. “I come in peace.”
I took the object from him. It was hard and wrapped in silver foil. Chocolate. “What’s this for?”
“Generally people eat it. Can I sit down?”
I shifted over, giving him plenty of room. “It’s your rock, apparently.”
His arm brushed mine as he slid next to me. “You should try it—best chocolate in town.”
I unraveled the foil and took a small bite. It tasted exactly how good chocolate was supposed to—potent and creamy. “It’s great. Thanks.”
I studied his profile, wishing I could read his thoughts or have some idea what to say. His nose was straight and defined, unassuming like his voice. Uneven bits of stubble ran along his jaw, as if he’d rushed shaving. It made him seem less together, more human.
He glanced over at me, and I turned away, biting my lip and hoping he wouldn’t ask what I was gawking at, or—worse yet—give me that “take a picture, it’ll last longer” line. Kyle Larson said that to me in the eighth grade. I never got over it.
“Have you ever been surfing?” he asked, finally breaking the silence.
“No. Have you?”
“Yeah, I suck at it. But I was pretty good on a skateboard. Can’t figure that one out.”
“I’m not athletically inclined at all. But I guess that’s kind of obvious.”
His lips twitched. “I dunno. You sure hauled ass down Ocean with those guitars.”
“You saw that? Great.” I looked away. “Veta said your mom doesn’t tolerate lateness, so…”
“It’s true. She’s pretty kick back, but she’s got her buttons.”
“I like her—your mom. I mean, your whole family is great. You and Zoe seem a lot alike.”
He smiled out at the water. “I hear that a lot.”
I took another bite of chocolate and let it coat my tongue. He didn’t seem to be in a rush to bring up what happened. Maybe he was waiting for me.
“So I’m sorry about last night,” I said. “The show, whatever happened afterward. I think it might have involved puking.”
He scrunched his nose, looking down. “Yeah.”
I put my hands over my face. “I’m such an idiot.”
“Don’t worry about it. We all have our moments, trust me.”
I folded my arms, keeping my focus on the waves. “You said I talked about my dad—what did I say exactly?”
“You weren’t all that coherent, to be honest. You said he kicked you out because
all he sees is her.”
My back stiffened. “I talked about my mom?”
“Is that who ‘her’ is?”
“Yeah.” I let a breath out.
He looked in my direction, like he was expecting me to say more. But I didn’t. Couldn’t think of how to start.
“I’ve been meaning to tell you I’m sorry,” he said. “For being a dick when we met. You caught me on a really bad day—or week, actually. I kind of hated the world.” A half smile brewed on his lips. “More than usual.”
I hugged my knees to my chest, thinking of Jason. How he’d stuck by me year after year, even when I got weird. “Teddy was your best friend, right?”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his legs. “Since second grade. I miss him as much as I hate him.”
“Did they just hook up once—he and Amy?”
He nodded. “Me and Amy had a fight—and I went for a drive. She decided to take refuge in Teddy’s room with a bottle of vodka.”
“Did you catch them?”
“Amy was sitting on my bed when I got back. She told me.”
“Wow.”
He shrugged, a burst of air escaping his lips. “Sounds like a bad reality TV show, right?”
“Sounds like two crappy friends who don’t deserve you.”
“That’s what Veta said.”
“I don’t know what a breakup is like. That would require having a relationship, which I’ve never had because…well, who knows.” I rolled my eyes. “My point is, I know what it’s like to be screwed over by someone you trust.”
“Your dad?”
My lips parted. How much did I want to tell him? Sean was really growing on me. Maybe I even had a little bit of a crush. Okay, more than a little. But I needed to forget that.
“I’m not going to judge you,” he said. “I promise.”
“It was my mom, actually. She took off when I was five.”
He nodded. “My dad left after I was born—decided he couldn’t handle the family thing. All we saw of him after that was his child-support checks—and that was only because my mom didn’t let up.”
I smiled. “Good for Tina.”
“Do you know where your mom is?”
The waves roared in my ears, and a thick breeze painted goose bumps down my arms. Saying who my mom was out loud made it real. But I wanted to know Sean. I wanted him to know me—even if I couldn’t work things out with the band.
