Saturday is my first shift at the diner in what my swiftly depleting bank account tells me is way too long, so I take the 9:00am bus into town, making sure to leave the house before I can possibly run into Jase. Every time I see him, I feel guilty, like he's a reminder of everything I shouldn't want but do- the fact that my stupid heart is pulling me in the absolute wrong direction.
But, I'm sure with a little space and a little distance, all will right itself.
After all, there's no way in hell I'm just going to be one of those girls with a hopeless crush on Jase.
I just hope it's not too late for that.
I spend the next 4 hours waitressing and spending my off time talking to Cece and Sam- until the two of them leave for their date... and I'm alone again.
It's almost 4 pm and I only have fifteen minutes left of my shift, thank god. I feel like I might collapse from standing for so long, and my head aches dully, like everything else is far away and underwater.
Which probably contributed to me not noticing the girl sitting in the booth by herself.
"Hello," I say, walking up behind a girl with black box braids. "Welcome to Angel's Diner, we're so happy to- Mayah?"
She looks up at me, her eyes cold. "Well? Are you going to tell me about the specials on the menu today, uh..." she looks down, pretending to read my name tag. "Sienna?"
"Mayah, stop it!" I say, lowering my voice when I realize people are staring. "Look. I promise you that I did not send that text."
"Uh huh?" Mayah asks skeptically, an eyebrow raised as she crosses her arms. "Sorry, I thought we were done playing Opposite Day in third grade. I'm not stupid, Sienna. You were at home all day- who would've sent the text for you?"
"Fine. Do you really want to know?" I ask her, sliding into the booth seat across from her. I only have 15 minutes left of my shift anyways, and she's currently the only one sitting in my section. "Jase was the one who texted you."
"Oh, yeah, and fun fact: I'm actually Donald Trump in disguise. Come on, Sienna- just give it up already."
"Mayah- why are you here if you're not even going to listen to me?" I ask, sighing.
"Because." I notice her fidget in her vinyl seat, though I'm pretty sure it isn't because there's anything wrong with the booth. "Because I wanted to... at least see if you could explain yourself... or apologize."
"Sienna?"
I hear a call from the kitchen and jolt up. "Shit- I gotta go. Will you wait for me here- I promise I'll be done in 10 minutes after my shift ends and we can go get some coffee. I'll explain everything, I promise."
I expect Mayah to say no, to tell me to go to hell, but to my surprise, she just looks up at me- and nods.
Mayah and I spend a very awkward minutes walking to a cafe (not Newman's, obviously- I don't want to run the risk of seeing Noah after the... awkward way we ended our date last night), neither of us talking until we've finally ordered our drinks, sitting down and sipping our lattes.
"So," Mayah says.
"So," I repeat. "I guess you want an explanation."
So I tell her. I tell her about my concussion, and about how I was trying to get my phone back from Evan when Jase accidentally opened a door and hit me in the head- how he even admitted to texting Mayah. "He just wants to make my life hell in any way he can- including breaking up my oldest friendship, I swear."
I don't mention that the text Jase sent was exactly what I was thinking in my head when I saw what Mayah said to me- thinking and acting are two different things and she doesn't need to know about my internal dialogue. She's pissed enough at me as it is.
"And why, do tell, does Jase Turner particularly care about your life? Are the two of you dating or something?"
"What?" I ask, my eyes going round like saucers. "God, no- you sound like Chrissa. Besides, what part of 'Jase Turner wants to make my life a living hell' sounds like 'dating'? I wouldn't date him if you paid me, I swear. We're just friends, if you can even call us that. We're mostly just forced together, since we, you know, live in the same-"
Mayah cuts off my rambling with a wave of her hand. "God- defensive much? I just wanted to make sure you weren't sleeping with anyone... but I guess you're still pure and innocent- like always."
Her words bring me back to the paper in my locker.
'She'd be hotter if she lost 10 pounds.'
The word feels like a knife to my chest- is there something wrong with me? With my thick thighs, my wide hips, the fact that I'll never be tall and thin like Seraphina Ross- or even Chrissa.
It almost makes me pause before picking up my freshly baked blueberry scone.
Almost.
"So," Mayah says, leaning back and clearly oblivious to the swirling mess of thoughts that seems to be my mind right now, "I'm willing to forgive you. I'm sick of fighting- and I've missed my oldest friend."
I notice how she doesn't say best friend but don't comment on it, just swallowing the lump in my throat and smiling up at her. "Wait- really? That's great!"
"But," she says slyly, holding up a finger to silence me, "There's a catch."
Oh no...
"Okay," I say hesitantly, a little nervous for whatever she's about to say next.
"There's a party next Thursday, down at-"
"Who the hell throws a party on a Thursday?" I ask, rolling my eyes. "If you're going to get wasted, at least do it when you don't have to go to school the next day completely hungover..."
"Can you stop being judgy for one second of your life and just listen to me?" Mayah asks sharply. "There's a party Thursday, invite only... down by this new club at Glendale Beach. Seraphina Ross is throwing it, and apparently she knows the owners, because it's just going to be her and her friends for the entire night."
"And...?" I ask, not sure I want to know where this is going.
Mayah just smirks. "And you're going to get us invites."
Hang on... did I just hear this girl right? "Mayah, what on earth makes you think that I have any interest in going clubbing on a school night- or that I'd be any better at convincing someone to let us come than you would?"
"You'll do it if you really want us to be friends again," she says, like she's explaining a very simple task to a toddler. "And since you and Jase Turner seem to be so close... it should be easy, right? Just bat those innocent doe eyes of yours and work your magic and he'll be all over it."
"Mayah- you know it's not-"
I'm interrupted by a text alert coming from Mayah's phone. She looks at it, standing up and giving me the fakest smile I've ever seen. "Text me when it's done, 'kay?" With that, she turns and leaves the cafe, her cascade of braids falling gracefully over her shoulder as she walks out- it makes me smooth back my own head of thick waves, which one hundred percent have turned into frizzy snarls by now, the slam of the door behind her leaving me sputtering and speechless.
How the hell am I supposed to do this?
"So..." Jase says, stretching out on the couch relaxedly, propping his head up on his elbow as he looks at me. "What exactly is it that you want to talk to me about?"
My heart pounds in my chest as I look over at him (though whether that's from what I'm about to do or his mesmerizing gaze is still unknown), and I'm tempted to stare down at the floor instead.
But confidence. I need confidence here. So instead I straighten up further, tossing my red hair over my shoulder and trying not to fidget with the slightly-too-long sleeves of my old Virginia Beach sweatshirt. "I'm not here to fight with you. But texting Mayah- that was wrong. You shouldn't have done that."
"Red, I was just trying to-"
I hold up a hand to silence him. "I don't care. Like I said, I'm not here to fight."
"Then what exactly are you here for?" Jase asks, his voice a bit exasperated as he rolls his eyes.
"I'm assuming you're going to the party on Thursday."
"Yes..." he says slowly. "But..."
"Excellent," I say, my brown eyes looking up at him calmly, not showing the whirlpool of emotions under the surface. "Because I ran into Mayah today, and she said she'd be willing to forgive me for the text I sent... under one condition. I had to get us both invites to the party. Which is what you're here for."
"Whoa, whoa whoa," Jase says, holding out a hand. "Abso-fucking-lutely not."
It's okay, I remind myself. I was expecting this to happen. It was all part of the plan I just thought up on the bus ride home from town. There's no way Jase would ever agree to this. Yet. He cares too much about his ego... though that will be his downfall, I guess.
But what he says next is... not what I expected.
"So, hang on. The 'best friend' of yours- the one who's been treating you like shit- just asked you to get her invites to a party using me? When was the last time you even went out, Red?"
"Why does that matter?" I huff. Why is he making this about me? It's completely throwing me off my game.
"Red..." Jase shakes his head, avoiding looking at me in the eyes. "Trust me, this party isn't your scene. The answer is no, period."
"Since when do you get to decide what 'my scene' is? Last time I checked, you didn't own me."
"Last time I checked," Jase says, his voice cold, "I know a lot more about these parties than you do. It's not the kind of thing you want to go to, I promise. This party isn't exactly going to be a rager thrown in someone's basement with a bunch of beer kegs, it's going to be..." he bites his lip like he's trying to think of the best possible way to phrase this. "The richest, most entitled and privileged Glendale kids doing things that you really do not want to be a part of at a club that should have higher standards than to let a bunch of minors parade around but, like everywhere, can be swayed by money. Trust me, Little Red, you don't want to go."
"Can you stop being a condescending asshole for five seconds of your life? I'm not your 'little' anything, and I'm not eight years old. And if this party is so absolutely awful, why are you going in the first place? And I assume Chrissa will be there too... I trust her judgment."
"Well," he says, his voice sharp and low, "don't."
"I'll trust whoever's judgment I want, Jase!" I say indignantly. Why is he acting like we're some 1700s married couple and he owns me?
Jase just sighs, shaking his head. "I don't know how or why you and Chrissa have gotten so close lately but... don't trust her."
"She's my friend! And you dated her for years!"
"Which," Jase says cooly, looking into my eyes with an expression that could cut glass, "is exactly why I know her better than you. Chrissa... as great as she seems sometimes... isn't trustworthy. She always has an agenda."
"Women have to have agendas, Jase! We don't just have the luxury of being able to do whatever we want- this is a patriarchal world and we women are just trying to climb our way out of the whole we've been stuck in for years!"
Oops. I don't think going all raging feminist really helped this situation out. Jase is now staring at me, one of his dark eyebrows raised and his dimple showing in a smirk. "Oh, don't even, you know it's true," I say, rolling my eyes. "Besides- Chrissa is my friend. And you're going to let me go to that party."
"Damn," Jase says with a chuckle, looking like he's thoroughly enjoying this, that god-awfully-perfect dimple STILL etched into his face in a way that kind of makes me want to scream because it's just so- "Everyone who said redheads are feisty was right."
"Jase whatever-your-middle-name-is Turner, I am not feisty," I say, thankful when my voice sounds strong and assured, despite the ridiculousness of what I just said. "You're just getting on my nerves."
"And you're just not coming with me on Thursday night," Jase says. "Really, Red, did you honestly think this would work? That you would just waltz in here and demand to go to a party that you would most definitely not be invited to without a plan and expect that I would actually say yes? I have a reputation to uphold here, Red."
"Exactly," I say, and now it's my turn to smirk. "Which is exactly why you're going to invite me to this party... unless you want me to tell the entire school about... hmm... let's see... the fact that you've been living with one of the least popular girls in school for the last three months... the fact that you slammed my head in a door-"
"That was an accident!" he protests. I just roll my eyes, continuing. "...that you treated me like an asshole and did not try to sleep with me, then actually apologized for being an asshole... oh, and the icing on the cake. The little... DUI charge. Should I keep going?"
Jase scoffs. "Really, Red? You'd sink that low?"
"Don't pretend you're on any kind of moral high ground here, Jase."
"Well then don't pretend you'd ever expose yourself in that way, or that a single person in our school would even listen if you told them any of that."
"Would you... place a bet on that?" I ask, the smirk on my face growing when I see the glare in his crystalline eyes, the... flicker of uncertainty behind it that's clear before I look back down. I may be nobody in our school, and Jase may seem untouchable, but the truth is that we're all drama-starved teenagers. Gossip travels fast around here. And from what I know about Jase... he cares too much about his reputation to risk the consequences of me actually saying something. He's going to fold, and I've already won.
"Fine," Jase says, the bitterness in his voice making me look up. He's looking at me like I'm someone he doesn't know, his gaze just so, so near to emotionless. "Have it your way, Sienna. Just don't say I didn't try to warn you."
And without another word, he gets up and walks away.
--
"This was a victory," I have to remind myself (and the cherubs) as I lie awake that night. I don't care about how I had to get there, or the look of shock on Jase's face, like I somehow betrayed his trust. And I'm definitely not nervous for this party. The only thing that matters is that I got my friendship with Mayah back... right?
But I just keep going back to Jase's blue eyes, so full of shock and coldness, the actual concern that appeared in his voice as he told me not to go. And his final, cryptic words: "Don't say I didn't try to warn you." A shiver goes up my spine, even though I know he was probably just trying to scare me. There's not an ounce in Jase that would possibly be... protective. And I can make my own damn decisions. He's not in charge of me.
The cherubs aren't buying it.
"Okay, fine," I mutter, trying not to wonder how I got to this point, talking to inanimate objects at 2 in the morning, "Maybe I do trust Jase's opinion. Maybe I didn't want to hurt him, even if I did. And maybe some small part of me wants to go to this party..." I can barely say the next part. "...because of him. Because I... like him. Or whatever."
I can't believe I just confessed that out loud. Even though I just said them to myself, the words feel irreversible, like they're leading me down a path that will change everything forever
Which means... I guess I have one more thing to say to someone.
So I take out my phone, type out the contact, and text:
"We need to talk."
It's time to be honest.
A/N: Hey guys, Selene here! Let me know your thoughts on this chapter (also apologies if it sounded rushed, I literally wrote like half of it 10 minutes ago)- there was a lotttt of foreshadowing so let me know your theories! Do you think Sienna should be going to that party? Was it annoying of Jase to tell her what to do, or do you think he's really just trying to protect her? And who do you think Sienna's texting?
Find out in... the next installment of Living With The Bad Boy, coming to you Monday, April 20!
Bahaha I'm very sorry y'all had to witness that, I just couldn't resist sounding like a dramatic game-show host for a minute. I hope everyone's doing well and has things keeping them busy- if you do, feel free to leave them in the comments (I've been reading a lottt more and developing a winged eyeliner addiction haha), and as always if you enjoyed this chapter, please hit the little vote button and/or leave a comment letting me know!
Also thank you guys SO MUCH for literally getting me to almost 2K reads from 1K in like... NO TIME AT ALL?? Honestly I was shook seeing how quickly my reads have been growing recently so thank you so so much lovelies :)
See y'all next week!
-Selene