Puck The Halls | Jack Hughes

TWELVE

The blonde I'd brought in ducks off towards the alcohol, but I make a direct bee-line for Mira. I'd been ignoring her texts all day, which completely sucked, and so I was missing her a lot more than I was willing to admit. Miracle eyed the girl walking away cautiously, but I was ready to distract as quickly as possible.

"Nice hoodie, sweetheart," I smile, though it's forced.

I think she can tell, because she's still flickering her eyes towards the blonde I'd walked in with. She turns back to me, forcing a smile of her own. "T-thanks, Jack."

"You okay?" I ask before I can stop myself, then I'm mentally bashing myself again.

Something flashes in her eyes, an emotion I can't make sense of, then she's forcing a smile again. "Aside from being ignored all day by you, I'm great."

I suck in a breath. "I'm not ignoring you, Miracle, I'm just—"

"Busy," she snaps, cutting me off. Her voice is venom. She's onto me. Fuck.

My eyes are wide. "N-no. No. I'm not too busy for you, I'd never be too busy for you—"

"Hey, Jack," a girls voice rips between Miracle and I. She's at my side in seconds, her body way too close to me. Miracle looks between us with a half grin, it's perfect, measured, rehearsed. It's not a real smile. Melanie-Mallory is a tall girl, a lot taller than Mira, which is the first thing she notices, the next is that she's gorgeous, perfect blonde hair, perfect face, perfect outfit, she looked like a model. That always did seem like my type, because that's how I wanted it to appear.

In reality, my type was short brunette girls with big doe-eyes who wore my hoodies and didn't put up with my shit. Miracle was my type, Miracle had always been my type.

Melanie-Mallory looks between Miracle and I, squinting. She places her alcohol on the bench. "Can I just get these?"

Miracle doesn't take her eyes away from me, she's glaring at me so hard I can feel her gaze burning into my skin, lighting me on fire, in a bad way.

Melanie-Mallory notices. "Do you two know each other?"

"Yeah," I breathe, trying to ignore Miracle's death glare. "We're childhood friends."

Miracle wants to scoff, I can feel it, but she settles with a basic eye roll. She's fully right, we weren't friends, we hadn't been friends in the longest time, maybe ever. What kind of friend tries to kiss the other in a club?

"Oh!" The blonde girl grins, suddenly beaming, seemingly oblivious to the mental fight Miracle and I were currently having. "That's so cool! I'm Monica! It's nice to meet you!"

Monica. Cool, so I was way off.

Miracle tears her gaze from me, and instead places it on Monica. Again, it's measured, calculating, perfect. I think she's silently tearing Monica apart, limb by limb.

"Miracle," the brunette girl smiles, it's a pretty smile, she's made sure to keep that smile on reserve for moments like right now. It's intimidating, Monica recoils slightly.

"That's a really unique name," Monica offers, biting her lip.

Miracle scans the girls wine. "Jack's always loved it, haven't you Rowdy?"

Ah, fuck.

"Yeah," I clear my throat. "Sure have."

"That'll be thirty dollars," Miracle grins, but this time, a real one. She's figured out that Monica is a nice girl, doesn't know who she is, and means Miracle no harm. Which was ten times worse, because now her anger will be placed on me.

Monica smiles, tapping her card. "You coming to Jack's party tonight?"

"I wasn't planning on it," Miracle told her, scrunching her nose. "But I might make an appearance, are you going?"

"Yeah!" She grinned, turning to me. "Jack invited me, said he needed a pretty girl on his arm if he was going to throw a party."

I sigh deeply, defeated. I was done for. Miracle turns to me, a single eyebrow raised. "Did he? Aren't you lucky!"

Monica grins up at me, wrapping an arm around my waist, I can't stop staring at Miracle, my heart in my throat. I thought she'd crumble, fall into a depression, cry even, maybe beg for me to ditch this girl and go back to obsessing over her.

She's not.

She's collected, she's holding herself like she's done this before, and I realise, with a horrible sinking feeling in my gut that she has. When I brought home Jade Winchester when I was twelve, three days after kissing Miracle, and announced her to my family as my girlfriend. When Quinn invited Miracle to the drive in movies when I was fourteen, after I'd begged him not to, and I was meeting a girl there. When I was teasing Miracle about taking her to my junior prom, and instead took Katie Grace. When I'd done the same thing for senior prom, then dated that girl for months after that.

Miracle knew how to do this so well because she'd had practice. She knew how to hide a broken heart from me because she'd done it so many times before.

I felt sick.

I had done this before. So many times that Miracle seemed like it didn't even surprise her, much less phase her. She saw it coming.

"Well, have fun," Miracle smiles, finally looking at Monica. "While it lasts, I mean."

"What?" Monica asks, but Miracle just places her headphones back in, and turns her music up so loud even I can hear the angry music she's blasting. She doesn't look back up at us, in fact, she turns away.

I make the walk back to my car, but I feel like I'm in a haze, not quite believing what was happening. How was I only noticing how Miracle felt now? Was I seriously that much of a dick to her? Trevor was right, Miracle didn't need another heart break from me.

She'd had enough.

I sit in my car, my eyes down and my fingers gripping the steering wheel so hard that my knuckles turn white.

Monica senses my change in attitude, she can tell something just happened back there. "Who was that girl?"

"Just a friend," I tell her, but my voice sounds strange, distant, like it doesn't belong to me.

"Are you sure?" She mumbles, crossing her arms over her chest. "What does she meant to you?"

"Nothing," I lie, turning on the radio to drown out the voices in my head telling me to get my shit together.

"Seems like she has feelings for you," Monica notes, looking out the window.

"She doesn't," I tell her, my voice short. "I need a drink."

"Me too," Monica admits. "You're not gonna ditch me and end up screwing her, right?"

I almost roll my eyes, but it's a valid question. Honestly, with Drunk Jack and Drunk Miracle, who knows.

"No," I breathe, pulling out onto the road. "I don't screw my childhood friends."

Right, a voice in my mind teases, you just fall in love with them.