Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
“You shouldn’t be here,” I say, but my voice lacks conviction. It’s hard to stay strong when all I want to do is be the way we were before it all went to shit.
“But I am.” He smirks again. “Aren’t you going to open your present?”
“If I do, will you leave?”
He shrugs. “If you want me to.”
I blow out a breath, pulling the lid off the box. The inside is full of Dum-Dums, all butterscotch except for one strawberry. My face heats at the memory of Jess and the way he used the sucker on me, and with one look at his face, I can tell he’s thinking the same thing.
“Keep looking.”
I dig around the box, pulling out a stack of CD cases. I hold them up, my eyes questioning his.
“Open them.”
I open the first case and inside it reads, Songs I’d like to fuck you to. On the inside sleeve, the tracks are listed. Everything from “Lollipop” by Lil Wayne to “Closer” by Nine Inch Nails. I laugh, closing the plastic case. “Very funny.”
“Keep going,” he says, but his expression isn’t playful like I’d expect.
“Okay…” I open the next one. Songs I’ve actually fucked you to. “Colorblind” by Counting Crows is listed, and I pause, peering up at him. “You remember that?”
He nods.
One by one, I open the rest. Songs that remind me of you. Songs for when you’re sad. Songs for when I fuck up. Songs for when you miss your dad.
“Jess,” I whisper around the lump in my throat.
“Thought you might want some new listening material,” he says.
Moving toward him, I throw my arms around his neck, hugging him tight. This is the most ridiculous, thoughtful thing anyone’s ever done for me. I take in his scent. His warmth. He feels like home.
“Does this mean you forgive me?”
I pull back, sniffing. “I forgive you, Jess…”
“I feel a but coming on.”
“But what’s changed?” I search his eyes.
“I’m here, Allie.”
“For how long?”
“Look in the bottom of the box,” he says, flicking his chin toward it.
I feel around, plucking an envelope from the bottom. I open it up, reading the letter with the Wildcats logo. My eyes snap to his.
“Does this mean what I think it means?”
He nods. “I’m staying for good. Coach Standifer’s starting MCLA lacrosse at Kerrigan next year. It’s not as prestigious as the NCAA, but I get to be part of a team again.” He tugs me closer by my belt loops. “And I get to go to school with you.”
“I’m scared,” I admit, feeling stupid and vulnerable for saying the words out loud.
“I need you, Allie. I’m not fucking leaving you again. I’m starting school here. I took a job at Henry’s auto shop. I walked away from fighting.” He runs a hand through his hair, blowing out a breath. “Nothing mattered to me before you. I self-sabotaged every good thing in my life before you came along. Part of me thinks I got kicked off the team on purpose, because it was easier to play that role, as fucked up as that sounds. But you make me want to be someone who deserves someone like you.”
He wipes a tear from my cheek.
“I love you.”
His eyes flare, zeroing in on my lips. “Say it again.”
“I fucking love you.” I feel my lips pull into a smile, and then he’s standing from the stool and lifting me in his arms, my ankles crossing behind his back.
“I love you, too.”
Legs still wrapped around his waist, I pull my shirt off over my head. “Then show me.”
* * *
Six months later
MY DAD ALWAYS SAID THAT both the best and worst things in life are unexpected. They’re the moments that change your life indefinitely, and even if you see them coming, you’re never prepared for the impact. It’s what you do in the aftermath that matters. It’s how you deal with the crisis—or good fortune—that defines you.
Closing my journal, I look up, seeking Jesse out as I sit on the same bleachers I watched him from a few years ago. Only this time, I’m not hiding underneath them. Since lacrosse is new at Kerrigan and there’s little funding, they’ve been using the high school’s field for practice and fall ball. It has me feeling more than a little sentimental being here, where my dad used to teach, with the boy who healed my broken heart.
The last six months have been a whirlwind. Technically, we don’t live together, but he sleeps in my bed every single night, so I don’t know who we think we’re fooling. He works with Henry now, and though it’s been a slow process, I can see the change in Jesse. He’s healing, too, and being around Henry has a lot to do with it.
Crystal showed up in River’s Edge in a desperate attempt to reel Jess back in. She started spitting some bullshit about him being worthless, and I didn’t think. I just swung. I’ve never punched anyone in my life, but she was talking about the boy I love, threatening to undo everything we’ve worked for. I don’t know who was more shocked. I turned, wide-eyed, to Lo and Jess with my hand over my mouth, apologizing profusely. To my surprise, Lo laughed like a hyena. Jess sent Crystal packing before telling me I couldn’t just go around punching people whenever they pissed me off—repeating the same words I told him about Victor—but he couldn’t keep the smile from his face when he said it.