"Is that what you're wearing?" Jake's eyes dragged down me as I shut the house door.
"What?" I stopped on the porch. Sweatshirt, jeans, and comfortable sneakers. Ponytail and not an ounce of makeup. Comfortable. Me.
"You look ready to clean the house, not party in it." He pointed to my black shirt, which read, Senioritis is a disease with only one cure: graduation in block white letters. "You can't wear that."
"Watch me." From the two steps higher required to look him in the eye, I clutched my hips. His frown wouldn't have changed my mind, but I glared at him. Eight hours wasn't enough to smolder my irritation at his erratic temper. "Just be glad I showered after work."
Pizza Palace wouldn't impress any date, so the customers were families. A circuit blew on the air conditioner, turned the restaurant into an oven, and ended my shift early, but, refreshingly, not a single football player showed up.
"I wouldn't let you ride in the car," Jake said as we walked down the driveway. His white Ford gleamed with a recent wash, and the gray leather was slippery as I sat down. The reminder Dad bought him this car on a customer trade-in was a bitter sting. My birthday present was a new phone, which I accepted along with their joke of paying for all the service plans already in their unlimited plan.
I sighed as Jake pulled out of the neighborhood. Swatting girls off my brother was precisely how I didn't want to spend Saturday night. He assured me it was one girl tonight, but it didn't matter. Another party with kids at school I didn't care about. "We both know there's no part of me that wants to go." I huffed and pointed at him. "I was going for an 'I'd rather sit in the car' vibe."
"You nailed it." He rolled his eyes. "At least I don't have to worry about any dude hitting on you."
"That's the idea." Dark shadows of suburbian tree-lined streets passed by us. "If someone gets that drunk, then we're leaving."
"Like Kieran?"
Of course, he had to go there. With a smug smirk on the side, he sounded like Mom in her stupid Homecoming conversation. "In particular, Kieran."
"He's not the worst guy you could go out with, Ellie." His smirk dissolved into a genuine smile. "He's liked you since-"
"Since he tasted Camille's tonsils?"
I wasn't out for any guy, but 'not the worst' sounded like settling for low standards. Jake's shrug was so casual I could've asked what his favorite color was. "It didn't mean anything."
Not as forgiving, I shifted my gaze to nothing. Twitches in my legs shifted me in my seat, and I curled and uncurled my hands. My heart pounded harder the closer we approached. I didn't know whose house it was, but one encounter at the beach ended... not badly, but weirdly.
My exchanges with Logan replayed in my mind, of how he festered under my skin and he weaseled himself into my thoughts. How nice he smelled and the way his eyes darkened at our proximity. The second time's temptation was stronger but they were only physical reactions. Whenever he opened his mouth, bullshit spewed out. I squirmed again.
Jake broke the silence with a grunt. "Ellie, what is it? Other than not wanting to go to this party, you're edgy. It's not Kieran, I can tell."
"I'm fine, Jake."
But I wasn't. Harper's text to go on a date with Logan was no help. I hadn't expected her to abandon Team Elle and didn't appreciate her justification of 'clean out the cobwebs.' I hadn't shared every detail, but maybe she was onto something. Not the cobwebs, but a fake pretense date would reveal his intentions.
Keywords: fake pretense.
Harper always saw things clearly when I overthought them. I wished a switch existed to wipe out whatever pulled me to Logan. It was distracting and gave me a headache. And hanging out with strangers I didn't know or cared to know was not a fun Saturday night diversion.
"Bullshit." Jake didn't spare me a glance. "You're chewing on your lip. Did something happen with Hightower that you're hiding from me? Ellie, I swear if you don't tell me, I'll go to Salesian and beat the truth out of him."
Unaware I was lip chewing, I released it from my teeth and clasped my hands. "Will you promise not to overreact if I tell you?"
Again, not even a flinch. "Nope."
"He... asked me out," I whispered and chewed again.
Jake's foot slammed on the brake, and we lurched forwards on tire squeals. My head almost hit the dashboard, which I slapped with my palms.
"What!?" His wide eyes, dark even with the overhead street lights, stared as if I'd grown two heads. How insulting. Thanks, Jake. "You said no, right?"
"Technically, I..." My memory fumbled for my exact words. What had I said? "I called him an asshole."
"But did you say the word no?" I lifted my shoulders, and he groaned so loudly, vibrations rolled off the windshield. With grumbled curse words, he continued driving. "Ellie, you're so naïve. If you don't say no directly to guys like him, then he's going to think it's a yes."
"Guys like him, or guys like you?" My question hung in the air as our destination and its less inebriated attendants passed my window. A hollow feeling carved out my stomach as Jake parked a few houses up.
"Exactly. You deserve better than any football player. They're all... cockroaches." Jake struggled for the right word while he turned off the car.
I scoffed. Jake was the king of hypocrites sometimes.
King Cockroach's chest expanded and heaved with his sigh, then he spoke in a quiet but firm voice. "Say it."
"It's not important," I replied in a tight, strained voice and refused to meet his gaze. He always knew when I was lying. So did Harper. The sting of my nails in my palm intensified when his voice filled with insistence.
"No secrets, Ellie."
"Okay, hypocrite." I turned towards him with narrowed eyes. The moonlight cast ghastly shadows around his eyes, and the lights gave his skin a yellow glow. "You're dragging me to a lame-ass party to meet some transfer girl because she doesn't know that you treat girls probably as you're worrying about how Logan would treat me."
Jake's face wiped blank as if I ran a giant eraser over it. Within those dark shadows, his eyes darkened with whatever mental hamster ran its wheel. After a pause where we breathed and looked at each other, he relented and raked one hand through his hair. The dark brown waves curled and flipped over his knuckles.
"Ellie, look. This girl..." he said in a low, thick voice. "I told you, she's different. I want you to meet her. I'm here so I can pick her up and take her out. We're not staying at the party and I'm not drinking. She's not allowed to date, so I had to meet her here. I won't even make you go inside."
Jake spoke with no edge of cockiness. His normal confidence was stripped down to sincerity. An honest admission and he must like her if she's not allowed to date. "We're... not going inside?"
"You're not," he reiterated. "Stay here. I'll get her, and we'll leave."
Relief flooded into me and relaxed a tension I hadn't realized scrunched up my shoulders. It was short-lived.
Wait. Am I the third wheel?
That's worse. I don't want to watch him play tonsil hockey!
"What am I supposed to do while you're on a date? Hold her purse? Keep the car warmed?"
"You're coming too." He rattled the car with his slammed door and headed to the house. Muffled through the glass, he shouted, "Stay here. I'll bring someone for you."
I rolled down the window. "Better not be fucking Kieran!"
That could have been taken totally out of context.
He didn't turn back, only lifted a middle finger at me. I rolled up the window as his rearview mirror image shrunk. Pin-drop silence enveloped me, except for faint throbs of music beats, I took a deep breath and leaned into the window. My six-hour shift sagged me in the seat.
The dark silhouettes of overhead suburban trees blurred with the backdrop blanket of twinkling stars. My eyes drooped lower, taking my chin to my chest. Before I was aware of what happened, I fell asleep and drifted straight into my nightmare.
I blinked at the scene from the corner of the bedroom. Throbbed beats pumped into my bones and I watched as Ryder kissed the freshman version of myself, then wedged himself between my legs. Recognition trickled over my skin, overwhelmed by the unfamiliarity of this setup. My feet were stuck to the floor, and my body was as frozen as my younger self in bed. A wall bystander, tears streamed out my eyes as I hovered, helpless and detached like a ghost outside of my own body.
What was happening? How could I see this? It didn't make any sense.
My throat tightened and cut off my speech. Every cell of my body screamed to do something, anything, to help me, but I could only watch. A horrible suffocation compressed my body as if I drowned in a pressurized container. Icy water flowed through my veins and grasped control of my body, as I felt when Ryder pinned me down. And then -
Finally, the door banged open. Another football player stumbled in. He was...
Jake?
The tall, wide frame of today's senior quarterback Jake, not freshman nobody Jake from the time of the party, grasped one hand onto the door handle and steadied himself.
This doesn't make any sense.
"Ellie." Jake stared at me in the corner with a soft, sympathetic expression. His voice was the last thing over freshman me's muffled screams. "Now you know how I feel."
Those words jerked me awake. I hit my forehead on the window with a smack. Deafening beats pounded in my ears, and white dots edged my line of vision. I clasped my sweaty forehead in both palms and gasped out ragged, uneven breaths. Goosebumps littered my forearms as I hugged them around my stomach.
Visual inventory, Ellie. Inside in a car. Parked alone. On the side of a street of small boxy houses. In the dark. And I fogged up my window.
What was that?
I rubbed my forehead with all ten fingers, wishing I could draw out the confusion. Every single time, it was the same. Always the same recap happened, with zero deviation of details, including the nightmare before Harper dragged me to the beach.
Why again? And now why is it changing?
Am I supposed to be sympathetic to how Jake feels?
Or does it mean Jake can't 'save' me?
I lifted my index finger to my foggy window and etched one word into the condensation:
W-H-Y?
Why was my brain like this? I couldn't understand it. My palm shook, but I smeared away the word. Given my broken brain, I was glad I wasn't at a party tonight. The sooner we could leave, the better.
Where the hell was Jake? I took a deep breath, opened my car door, and hoped the cooler air would remove the humidity slicking my skin clammy. My feet planted onto hard asphalt, and I sighed and leaned against the hood over the front tire. I massaged my temples until the throbs lessoned. A few strands of hair clung to my still-damp skin, so I brushed them aside.
Completely alone, a dark canopy of suburban trees blackened out the night sky. A nearby street light flickered, buzzed with electricity, and filtered occasional streaks of dull, yellow light into the otherwise blackness around me. It was the perfect setup for a teenage horror film, where I ended up stuffed in the trunk and was never heard from again.
A chill down my spine revealed I didn't want to be alone. I pushed off and returned to the passenger seat. "C'mon, Jake. Stay here, what the fuck," I muttered at my phone's time. It vibrated in my hand.
L: Hoping for a miracle.
L: I mean, hi baby. 😉
Why was that cute? I rolled my lip under, but the corners twitched up.
Me: Hi.
My phone rang from him calling. Mixed feelings rose from when I saw him earlier today. He attempted to call me already. What did he want? Curiosity melted my usual irritation associated with him. I rested my free hand between my thighs and squeezed it. My window was now free and clear of condensation. Curiosity won. "You're such a distraction."
"Distraction?" His feigned shock was thick in my ear. "Is that all I am to you?"
My eyes widened as I searched for an appropriate answer. "Umm... yes."
"Where are you? Can't be somewhere exciting if I'm not with you."
I grimaced, not sure how to answer without sounding pathetic. "Sitting outside some loser party house."
Total failure. I cringed and cupped my forehead. His confusion was understandable. "You don't like parties, Ellie?"
"Elle," I corrected him, then glanced at the rearview mirror. While a few more cars had pulled up, there were no signs of Jake. If he was doing a keg-stand, then I would end his existence. "No, I don't."
Logan asked the direct question, "Then why are you there?"
"It's complicated." My fingers traced absent patterns on the car's center console. "Or maybe it's not. I'm waiting for my brother to pick up some girl."
He was the last person I should have admitted that to, reflected by his, "Seriously?" I pulled the phone off my ear. "Does the car have Doormat plastered on it, or just you? How can I sign up for this chauffeur service? Does it come with an escort upgrade?"
My lower lip rolled under for that rant. "Logan, it's not like that."
"Explain it. Actually, don't." He chuckled, which didn't sound so bad except it was at my expense. "There's no way to explain to not sound pathetic."
"I am not pathetic." My fingers paused their strokes, and I clenched them into a fist.
"You aren't. He is," Logan clarified. "I wouldn't treat you like that, baby. You'll see Friday." Despite being confident as always, an unspoken sense of a 'please' slipped into his voice.
And there it was. The date reminder, this time indirect and subtle. The flip of my heart was also different, but I dampened it with Jake's warning. "I didn't say yes."
"But you didn't say no."
Crud, he saw right through that one. "Why are you home right now? No hot date tonight?"
"That's next Friday." My traitor heart flipped again and took my mouth with it. "If she would say yes already."
"Logan," I said when he cut me off.
"My mom gave me a huge guilt trip about not calling her from camp, and I'm... stuck here. So, tonight it's me and her."
"Grounded? You're... spending Saturday night with your mom?" I was half-shocked, half-impressed by that. A high school guy who hung out with his mom was almost unheard of. Certainly, my brother didn't do that unless forced. Or me, either.
"Yeah, why so surprised?"
"No, I..." I paused and cupped my chin. "That's sweet. We have a family thing tomorrow. Meatball rolling."
"Meatball rolling?" A low laugh warmed my ear. "Not sure what that involves, but you're welcome to come over and roll my meatballs anytime, baby."
I rolled my eyes at my ruined family moment. "No. It's only cooking."
"Lucky you." My ear buzzed with static from his sigh. "All we eat is takeout. Mom's too busy, fortunately. She's terrible. My brother and I try, but we probably inherited her cooking gene."
My fingers resumed their absent traces. "You have a brother?"
"Yeah. He's a sophomore."
Finally, Jake's tall stature approached. A tall, thin, fair-skinned girl with long, amber-colored hair walked next to him. They were followed by another guy's frame, but the night was too dark for me to make out who he was.
Anyone but Kieran, anyone...
"Sorry, I gotta switch to text." I hung up. Logan picked up right where we left off, but I stuffed my phone in my pocket. "Okay, here goes nothing."
Jake opened the door. I plastered a fake smile and looked at the girl he dragged up to me.
"Ellie, this is Chloe," he introduced me to his girl first. "Chloe, my sister Elle."