The Checklist

Honesty is like heartbreak, it hurts

“Ow!” I shout the same moment Jace reaches over and gently lays his hand over my mouth. His other hand, sadly, is tangled deeply within my blonde hair.

Bobby pins lay scattered haphazardly on a picnic table and he has one legged popped on the bench, his body hovering dangerously close to mine.

“Ender,” He says in my ear, his breath moving the few loose strands next to my neck. “If you scream any louder, people will think I am murdering you.”

When I don’t say anything, partially because I can’t, he slowly moves his hand away from my mouth and resumes his task of taking down my hair.

Sighing, I try to forget the pain of him rearranging my hair by instead focusing on the people around us. If I do, maybe I can forget about the way his fingertips keep brushing my bare skin or the way his shoulder will sometimes bump into mine, making goose bumps pop along my arms.

Even though I know I shouldn’t be here, sitting on this table and letting Jace mess with my hair, there’s no where else I could be. Unless it’s looking for Ellie.

Who has no doubt found a way to ditch the festival.

Speaking of her though...

“Do you have any sisters or brothers?” I ask, trying to start a conversation. Anything to distract myself from the pain. His fingers freeze in my hair, as if what I said as somehow paralyzed him. I try to arch my neck to the side, to gauge his reaction, but he quickly goes back to my hair.

“I had two sisters.”

His voice doesn’t leave room for anything else to be said. Which, thankfully, I’m glad for. Not even I can look over the fact that he used past tense.

Is that why he’s the way he is?

Is that why he goes out and parties and cheats and strings along girls for enjoyment?

I don’t ask him though. I just continue to look forward. If he didn’t want to talk about it, then I wouldn’t bring it up. Letting out my breath, I squint up at the sky. If the sun is any indication, I know the music part of this festival would be starting soon.

It happened to be my favorite part. It’s the only reason I let my mom still drag me to this thing. It used to be my dad’s favorite part of the year, and somehow through him, I’ve grown to love it also. He loved music almost as much as he loved my mom. 

Almost. 

I feel Jace suddenly yank out another bobby pin and I try my hardest not to swirl around and punch him in the face. It's like he didn't even know what the term gentle meant. Unless it deals with Brittany. He sure was cautious and careful with her.

 “Do you even know what you are doing?”

“No,” He curses silently under his breath, no doubt pissed over something my hair has no control over. “But it looks as if you don’t either.”

Should I even be offended? Rolling my eyes, I place my elbows on my knees and then bring my chin to my hands. This is going to be a while.

“If you have no idea what you're doing, and I have no idea what I am doing, then how is this ever going to work out?”

Jace pulls out the last bobby pin and I feel my hair fall heavily against my shoulders. This would be fine if it wasn’t a hundred degrees out. I just hoped he finished what he started before my hair became soaked with sweat.

He let’s out his breath slowly before dropping his leg and maneuvering his way in front of me. “When you asked for my help you were expecting something. What?”