Jar of Paper Hearts

Chapter 1

I live for Saturday nights.

Saturday nights are designated for parties, letting loose, and pretending like my life isn't a torturous combination of college applications and complicated relationships. They are the nights which afford me the opportunity to forget the last couple years ever happened.

But on this Saturday night, I'm staring at a room full of middle aged men and women dressed in clothes that probably cost the same amount of money I'm trying to save for the Mustang I've had my eye on since I was thirteen years old. I'm standing next to my dad in a stupid bow tie and a fake smile because he considers a charity function for sick kids some bonding time between us that he clearly misses out on. I'd rather be anywhere else. I'd even subject myself to Maddie's incessant questions about the state of our relationship if it meant I didn't have to be here instead of at my best friend's house.

I pray for a quick and painless death, which I guess is totally inappropriate at a function like this, when I see her.

In a ballroom filled with nothing but black, she stands out like a single red rose petal. A drop of blood on velvet. Wine spilled on a granite countertop.

As she crosses the shiny wood dance floor, the train of her dress ripples behind her in a wave of shiny red. I can't see her face, but I don't need to. Once she slips out the French doors, the urge to follow her is inexplicably overwhelming. I straighten my tie and take a step forward, when I feel a hand grip my shoulder.

"Grayson, did you hear me?"

"What? Sorry, Dad. I was preoccupied."

"I see that." He glances disapprovingly at the doors the girl in the red dress disappeared . "I'm wondering why you didn't ask Madison to come tonight."

The groan that accompanies the mention of my sort of- girlfriend takes tremendous effort to suppress. This is his subtle way of letting me know he morally disapproves of catching me checking out another girl.

"I don't know. We're not in a formal charity dinner place right now." He wants me to have a steady female influence in my life he can't provide, but it's annoying on every level imaginable. I'm keeping my relationship with Maddie as uncomplicated as possible.

"The tickets to this thing are expensive," I add, idly gesturing toward the lavish country club ballroom crowded with wealthy benefactors and their trophy wives. "I wouldn't expect you to foot the bill for her." And I sure as hell am not about to dip into my already meager Mustang fund for one night out with old people and a shitty band, even if it is for charity.

Dad doesn't bother to hide his disappointment. "You know money isn't an issue." He huffs, stuffing his hands in his tuxedo pant pockets. "I just don't like it, Gray. I raised you better than that. Your mom and I," he corrects, "taught you to be more respectful of women, and I can't say I am happy with your attitude."

"What are you talking about?" I snap, despite knowing exactly why he's irritated. "How am I disrespectful to Madison?" On the rare occasion he mentions my mother and something that she would have found disapproving, I automatically feel resentment at the guilt I feel. How the hell does he know what she would have said? Maybe she'd have thought that getting serious with a girl at seventeen is a stupid idea.

He leans in, lowering his voice. "You won't ask Maddie to come to a formal charity event with us, but you have no issues with feeling her up?"

"Jesus, Dad..." I draw a hand over my face. The tie around my neck feels as though my air supply is being cut off, suffocating my soul.

"I saw you two by the pool last weekend. Don't tell me you've just been holding hands."