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XO Page 11

by Melissa Jane


  There’s a heavy sigh next to me, and when I look up into my father’s eyes, I notice he looks tired and worn. He gently touches my cheek below the scratch from last night. I told him I’d received it from walking past a protruding branch.

  “Be careful, boo-boo,” he says, his concern palpable.

  When Jacob is out of earshot, giving us some space, he issues his warning once again. “Remember what I said. Boys like Jacob Lynch will only break your heart. I mean it.”

  “In your eyes, any boy, no matter who he is, will break my heart.”

  Dad pulls me into a hug. “Very true. If he makes you cry, he isn’t worth it. Now go on.” He gently pushes me away. “You go have a good night.”

  Planting a kiss on his cheek, I smile and head out the door, turning just before the stairs. “Love you, Daddy.”

  Although there’s an unexplainable, innate sadness about him, his words couldn’t come more from the heart if he tried. “I love you, darling.”

  “I’ll take care of her, Mr. Reign,” Jacob calls from the bottom of the stairs.

  “You better.”

  With the sun still warming my skin, a small squeal escapes my lips as I run down the few stairs and leap onto Jacob’s waiting back. Securing his hands around my legs, he hoists me up and sends us in a spin around the front yard toward his Charger.

  Our happiness is profound, our laughter long-awaited.

  Nothing can ever tear us apart.

  ~

  We made it just in time.

  With our burgers and shakes stuffed into Jacob’s backpack, we climb the water tower, me first in case I slip and take a seat on the platform. The railing sits above eye-level and is non-intrusive when it comes time to watching the bright sun turn orange and pink as it slowly descends.

  “One veggie burger for you,” Jacob says, placing it between us. He’d even packed a red and white chequered tablecloth for our picnic. He’s thought of everything, and my heart swells knowing he cares. “I still can’t believe you turned down a double bacon beef burger for vegetarian,” he jokes.

  “Have you ever tried their veggie patties?”

  Jacob laughs. “Can’t say I’ve ever had the desire to.”

  “Well, tonight can be your lucky night.”

  “Don’t say that in front of your dad after the lecture he just gave me.”

  I giggle recalling the conversation. “You did very well in case I haven’t told you yet.”

  “He’s a good guy,” Jacob concedes. “He’s just looking out for his daughter.”

  “I wish my mom thought he’s a good guy. I can’t remember the last time I actually saw them conversing.”

  “I thought they were strong?”

  “I thought so, too. But even when she isn’t traveling for work, she makes excuses to leave the house to get away from him.”

  We both unwrap our burgers and start eating in silence. After a few mouthfuls, we continue the conversation.

  “My dad is the complete opposite to yours,” he admits. “He’s a complete ass.”

  “I’ve noticed,” I say gently because the way he treats his wife and son is appalling.

  “Where your mom likes to escape, my mom is ordered to stay home. She has no friends except for Linda down the street, and we all know how batshit crazy she is, and your mom, but even their friendship seems forced lately.”

  “Your mom is just so beautiful. She deserves so much more.”

  “That’s what I keep telling her,” Jacob says, popping another fry into his mouth. “I wish to fuck she’d leave him already. She’d be so much happier. But then I wonder how she could survive without being told what to do. She’s so used to being forced not to think for herself anymore.”

  It’s no secret Jacob and his father don’t see eye to eye. In fact, his father has no qualms to ‘teaching his son a lesson’ whether it be behind closed doors or out in public. On many an occasion, I wish someone would step in and teach Mr. Lynch a lesson. But the way he treats his wife is just like a bully would his target. Except this has been going on most of their married life until it’s just become second nature.

  We lean back against the tank as a sheet of orange lines the sky, various shades of pinks and purples slash across what’s left of daylight.

  “How’s your burger?” Jacob asks, gently teasing because he simply doesn’t believe me.

  “Better than yours.”

  “Impossible.”

  Holding out the quarter of burger left, I challenged him to a bite. “Do it. It’ll change your world. I’m willing to sacrifice the last few mouthfuls so I can witness it change your world. Go on.”

  “That’s a huge statement.”

  “And I stand by it.”

  Dubiously raising his brows, he leans forward and takes a bite. He chews, face blank, giving nothing away. I wait and watch.

  “That’s fucking delicious,” he finally announces, licking his lips.

  I laugh in victory. “It’s my best-kept secret, so don’t go tell everyone.”

  Jacob leans forward ready to take another bite of my quickly diminishing burger, but I’m quick to move it to safety. “Oh, no you don’t, buddy. This sucker’s all mine.”

  “You’re a cruel woman,” he teases, while scrunching up his wrapper and clearing the mess between us. Scooting over, Jacob pulls me into his arms until my back is nestled against his chest, my head resting on his broad shoulder.

  “There is no other place in the world I’d rather be, right now, than alone with you, up the water tank, watching a stunning sunset.”

  His words leave me swooning.

  This guy actually likes me.

  Like, legitimately likes me. For me!

  Nerd quirks and all.

  Perhaps it’s more than just like. Whatever this unexplainable phenomenon is, I want more of it.

  “Here,” I say, holding up what’s left of my dinner so he can lean forward for a bite. “I could think of no one better to share my veggie burger with.”

  ~

  Night falls, and we lose ourselves in each other. I fall in love with how our fingers perfectly intertwine. I relish the feel of his fingers grazing my cheek, how his lips trail a path down my neck, and the way he twirls the ends of my long, dark hair.

  “I’ve always loved your hair, you know.”

  “You have?”

  “It’s like black silk.”

  “We match,” I say, referring to his own dark hair.

  Leaning against Jacob’s shoulder, we both stare up at the night sky, brilliant stars twinkling above as our conversation turns to all the times we’ve initiated war against each other.

  “Remember the time you sling-shot an egg into my bedroom?” I ask, smiling as I recall the incident.

  He kisses my temple. “In my defense, I thought the window was closed. I didn’t expect it to explode on your math textbook.”

  “I had to pay for that, too, just so you know. Eighty dollars to replace it.”

  “What!”

  “Yep. When I went to return it, Mrs. Hearn the librarian, said there was a rank smell. Which it did have, but I’d also tried covering the eggy smell with my Brittney Spears’ perfume.”

  “How’d that work out for you?”

  “Well, it didn’t. It simply made it worse.”

  “I honestly did think your window was closed. But don’t forget, you are queen of retribution. You got me back good by filling my locker with ten trillion Styrofoam balls. I was still finding those asshole things two months later.”

  I laugh, remembering his face as he angrily searched for mine, a cascade of snow-like balls endlessly pouring from his locker around his feet. As soon as someone opened the corridor double doors, they blew everywhere and stuck to everything. It was an inside snowstorm in the middle of summer.

  Jacob tickles my waist causing me to squirm and plead for mercy. “Stop,” I beg. “I’ll fall off the tank.”

  He pulls me closer against his chest until we’re cheek to chee
k.

  “What about the time when we both ended up with a weeks’ worth of after-school detention because you threw your chair at me in science?”

  I laugh, partly amused by the flashback and appalled by the fact I’d acted in such a way, but Jacob had made me so uncontrollably mad. “Because you chased me with mice intestines when I refused to participate in the dissection.”

  “You were so scared running around the lab. But I was fourteen, so, of course, I found it amusing. The more you freaked out, the more fuel you gave me to keep going.”

  “You were an asshole.”

  “I do acknowledge that that particular prank escalated… rather quickly.”

  “I still can’t believe I killed Harold.”

  Jacob erupts into laughter. “Oh shit, I forgot about Harold.”

  I sit up and face him. “How could you forget that part of the story. It was all your fault. Do you know I’m still traumatized over that? If you hadn’t jumped out the way when I flung the chair, it would never have knocked Harold’s cage off the counter, and he’d still be alive being the happy guinea pig he was that morning.”

  “You’re right,” Jacob falsely concedes. “I should have allowed that laboratory chair to hit me in the face and break my nose. I don’t know what I was thinking when I expertly dodged it.”

  I still feel remorse for the little guy who’d simply been minding his own business eating his morning lettuce before he indirectly became the victim of my raging temper. For weeks I was inconsolable. I jab Jacob in the ribs. “You brought out the worst in me,” I say as his hands circle my hips.

  His eyes hood with lust. “Well, how about I make up for it.” Guiding me over, I straddle his lap, our lips instantly making a connection, drawn together like magnets. Jacob kisses me passionately, and I return the desire feeling something inside of me yearning for more. His hands snake up my back, holding me close, my nipples rubbing against his chest and sparking a sensation I have yet to explore.

  “I want you to be my first, Jacob,” I murmur against his needy lips.

  “And I want to be your first, more than you know.” Jacob kisses me once more before gently cupping my face. “When the time is right and when you’re ready.”

  I nod, feeling excitement brewing knowing Jacob has left the decision in my hands.

  “What if I say tonight?” I question curiously, even though I’m not yet at that stage.

  He kisses me again, squeezing my waist in what I assume is his own sexual frustration. A wry smile spreads, his finger ever so slightly dipping the neckline of my shirt to reveal only a taste of cleavage. “Because…” he says, taking a peek, “… I promised your dad no boob or anything else action. And I…” Jacob pauses to carefully and expertly, I might add given the tight space, flips me onto my back with him on top, “… am a man of my world. No matter how hard it is to resist you.”

  As if I’m not heated enough already, now I’m lying under Jacob feeling how his body engulfs mine and getting a taste of how he would feel between my legs.

  I stare up into his eyes. “So, I guess I have to settle for a make-out session?”

  “It’s as hard for me as it is for you.”

  10

  THEN

  “Well… this is unexpected.” Ms. Zagwich sits on her desk, arms crossed, a dubious glance passing between the split group. While Jacob sits next to me, one arm wrapped around the top of my chair, Kevin and Chelsea sit as far away from us as possible. “And what on earth happened to you?” she asks a disgruntled Kevin who sits with his own arms defiantly crossed, foot tapping in agitation.

  “Every now and then you discover a Judas amongst you,” he says as if it’s supposed to hurt. If anyone’s guilty, it’s him.

  “Right…” Ms. Zagwich starts. “Sounds intense,” she says with an ounce of sarcasm. I hide my smile because to any adult, our teenage problems must seem so trivial, and no matter how serious Kevin is about being betrayed, he still presents like a sullen child. “And Chelsea, have you been sucking on lemons? Why the ugly scowl?”

  Chelsea scoffs indignantly. “You can’t say that to students.”

  “I just did.”

  Huffing, she throws herself back in her chair, beating Kevin in the sullen race.

  Ms. Zagwich switches her attention, a questioning hand gesturing our way. “And this… this is a new development.”

  “That’s what they’d lead you to believe,” Chelsea mutters.

  Taking the higher road, Jacob and I ignore the jibe.

  “Okay… well—”

  “I want out,” Kevin blurts.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “I don’t want to be involved in the prom planning. I didn’t want to from the beginning, and I certainly don’t want to be working alongside those fuckwits.”

  “That’s enough!” Ms. Zagwich warns.

  “Either they go or I go,” he says, confident in his ultimatum.

  “That’s not up to me, Kevin. You’ll need to speak to Coach Carter about that.”

  “Or, you teachers can work among yourselves and organize it.”

  “Watch your tone,” she warns once more. “You can all put your differences aside and come together for the cohort and make this a special occasion. Anna, we need a neutral leader, so you’re to monitor the weekly work being completed.”

  We all turn to our new leader. So caught up in our own problems, we didn’t even realize she was sitting behind us.

  “Okay,” she agrees, eyes wide with uncertainty.

  “If I’m forced to stay, I’m not doing any projects which have me working with that dumb slut,” Kevin says referring to me.

  “That’s enough, Mr. Foster.”

  “Say it again, and I blacken that other eye,” Jacob seethes, already committed to fulfilling his threat.

  Unfazed, Kevin swivels in his seat, accepting the challenge. “I said, your slut can stay away from—”

  Jacob launches, fist already raised when he’s stopped.

  “Jacob Lynch, if you lay a hand on him, I’ll see to it you never play another football game,” Ms. Zagwich spits out in order to stop the room from erupting.

  Kevin and Chelsea share a victorious snigger until Jacob says the unexpected.

  “Do it,” he says, quietly melancholic. “You’ll be doing me a favor.”

  Within a heartbeat, Jacob relaunches his swing, landing his fist into the unsuspecting Kevin. I flinch with the impact, terrified how this is going to end.

  “Keep up the name-calling, and I’ll keep up kicking your ass.”

  Kevin shoots to his feet, occasionally squinting against the throbbing pain in his eye but too riled up not to go into battle. “You’re choosing her over me, Jacob? After all this fucking time, you’re choosing pussy over five years of friendship?”

  “A bruised ego doesn’t give you the right to be derogatory.”

  Kevin shoves at Jacob’s chest, but he barely moves. “Fuck you, man. You think I care about your fucking frigid girlfriend?”

  Jacob returns the shove, sending Kevin staggering a few steps back before grabbing him by his shirt collar and slamming him against the wall. Chelsea is forced to move out the way, disdain written across her already sullen face.

  “You cared enough to try raping her,” Jacob raged.

  Kevin laughs mockingly. “Some bitches are worth it, some aren’t. I’ll let you guess where your girlfriend fits.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Jacob seethes, hurling Kevin onto a desk. That motion alone is a testament to how furious Jacob must be because Kevin is a solid boy. The desk agrees and breaks beneath him, sending both boys crashing onto the floor. Still in prime position, Jacob delivers more punishing blows to Kevin’s face.

  With Ms. Zagwich protesting in the background and Chelsea screeching her hate, the boys continue their verbal spat, their aggression quickly flying out of control.

  “This is all your fault, Rosie,” Chelsea accuses. “Look what you’ve done. Does destroying a friendship gi
ve you some worth?”

  Ignoring her and swiping the tears from my cheeks, I try to reach deaf ears. “Jacob, stop!” I plead. “It’s not worth it.”

  “That’s enough!” comes a booming authoritative voice from the door.

  Frightened, I jump aside while Coach Carter barrels his way through the mess of desks.

  “Jacob Lynch… get up. Now!”

  Sitting straight, heaving from exertion, Jacob glances down at his torn shirt and then to Coach Carter.

  “Get. Off. Him.” Coach warns again with finality.

  Following instruction, Jacob rises to his feet, landing a kick to Kevin’s ribs on the way past. “The asshole needs to learn some manners,” he says, wrapping an arm around my waist.

  “You’re both assholes,” Coach states. “And I’ll see you both in my office. Now!”

  “No need.” Jacob casts a glance to a shaken Ms. Zagwich like an employee who quits before getting sacked. “I already made my decision. I’m out.”

  It takes a moment for Coach to register his star player and captain, who can lead the team to victory in the finals, has sabotaged his chances of college football. Coach gives a grim nod because the strict No-Fight Rule on or off the field applies to all players, including the revered Jacob Lynch. There are no second chances, only instant dismissal, or in Jacob’s case, he already chose his own fate. And that explains why Kevin, despite the lashing he was receiving, never fought back.

  “You’re a disappointment, son. I had high hopes for you,” Coach says, cruelly.

  Resigned, Jacob gives a small smile that shatters my heart. “Yeah, my father says the same.”

  ~

  “Jacob, wait!” I pick up the pace as he storms down the corridor. “Please, just listen. He set you up. Kevin—”

 

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