Winter Untold (Summer Unplugged) (5 page)

Chapter 8

Mom and her boyfriend take Bentley to dinner and to see a movie, leaving the house completely empty for a few hours. I pounce on Jace as soon as they leave the house, sliding my fingers up his chest and desperately wanting to leave the living room in favor of my bedroom. Preferably, my bed.

Jace pulls away after a minute of kissing. “I want to finish this, trust me I do, but can we get some food first?”

I frown, drawing my eyebrows together in a puppy face. “Food is more important than making out with me?”

“Never,” he says, pulling my forehead to his lips. “I’m just so damn hungry. I’ve been on a plane all day and unsalted peanuts can only hold me over for so long.”

I roll my eyes. “Okay, but I want Italian.”

“Pizza?” he asks with a smile.

I grab my purse off the couch. “Duh.”

Nick’s Pizza has the most amazing giant pizza
slices. They really are giant in that you pretty much have to eat them with a knife and fork. One slice is served on a metal plate which is actually just a large pizza pan. Jace always orders two slices and I always order one, which extra marinara sauce because Jace doesn’t eat his crusts and I eat them for him.

Having a routine like this really means a lot when our relationship has been less than routine lately.
We sit on opposite sides of a booth in the back corner of the bistro. Jace tells me stories about idiots on the plane ride and how he saw two business men fight over an outlet in the airport.

“You sure have a lot to say about the airports,” I say, dipping a piece of crust into the marinara sauce. “Funny how you have nothing to say about those crazy parties you go to.”

“They aren’t crazy,” he says, aiming his fork at me. “Plus, you act like partying is my job. It’s not, ya know. I spend most of my day covered in sweat and exhaust fumes out on the track.”

I want to say something snarky or mean, or comment on the stupid girls at those stupid parties, but I hold off and just try to enjoy the moment with my boyfriend. There’s plenty of time to be mad at him when he isn’t here.

The way he stares at me now makes me wonder if he’s reading my mind.

“I love you,” he says.

“I love you,” I say back with a mouth full of food.

He smiles as he watches me, finally saying, “It felt like you hated me the last week or so. I don’t know if it’s the distance or what, but I’ve been really worried about us for the last few days. Then I get to see you in person and everything feels fine.”

I nod. “I kind of feel the same way.”

“What do you mean by that?” he asks, leaning in.

“I mean sometimes I kind of hate you when you’re not here,” I say in a lighthearted but still serious way. He lifts an eyebrow. “Is it because of the parties?” he asks.

I shouldn’t even have to justify that dumbass question with an answer, but I do anyway. “Yes.”

He reaches across the table and grabs my hands, looking me in the eyes. “I promise I will not attend another after party without you.”

“Babe…” I say, glancing at the table. “You don’t have to do that. Now I feel bad.”

“Don’t. You’re my girl and I’m going to do what it takes to make you happy.”

A weird mix of extreme satisfaction and overwhelming guilt flow into me. His promise to me is definitely what I want, but why do I feel so damned bad about it?

My eyes close as Jace kisses a trail down my neck. We’re back at my house and my mom and brother haven’t returned yet, so we’ve left my bedroom door open to hear them when they get back. Jace’s lips kiss my collar bone and chills run down my arms. I grab his head and pull it to me in a hug. Making out on the sly with the looming knowledge that the front door will open at any second, ruining our private time, is no fun. Well, it’s a little bit fun.

But still. “You’re acting weird,” I tell him as I draw light circles across his scalp with my nails. He slides his hands around my waist and locks his fingers together behind my back.

“You know me too well,” he whispers.

“So what’s going on?” I ask, trying not to sound so disappointed. “You’re leaving soon, aren’t you?”

He sighs. “At midnight.”

“Ugh,” I groan. “I was hoping you’d at least get to spend the night like last time.”

Jace pulls back and adjusts himself on my bed, resting his head against my headboard and pulling me into his lap. “There’s some good news though.”

I cross my arms defiantly. “How could there possibly be good news?”

“I was thinking you could drive me to the airport then just take my truck home with you. That way you could keep it until I get back next week. No more bumming rides with Becca.”

Or Chase
, I think. Countless possibilities float across my mind…if I had his truck for a week, I could drive myself to and from school, the mall, the bookstore. Anywhere I wanted. I wouldn’t have to beg Mom for her keys or bribe Becca to take me somewhere she doesn’t want to go. A whole week of freedom…

“Wait, you’re going to be gone a
week
?”

He laughs. “Yeah, but before you figured that out, you looked pretty happy.”

“I am,” I say with a roll of my eyes. “I’m excited. I can’t believe you’re trusting me to drive your truck.”

His eyebrows narrow. “Well… I trusted you until you said that…”

I give him a playful slap and then immediately regret it because he pins me to the bed and tickles my ribcage in the exactly the most ticklish spot. I lash out in laughter, unable to stop the giggles and squirming. I hate him so much some times. But in the best possible way.

The long, romantic goodbye I had pictured on our drive up to the airport is ruined the moment Jace and I walk into the terminal. Two women who might be old enough to be his mother come rushing up to him with the typical star-struck face I’ve come to recognize lately.

Jace slowly lets my hand fall from his as he goes in to return the hug the first woman throws at him without even asking. Talk about an invasion of his personal space. Plus her perfume smells like she went to a cheap perfume kiosk and sampled every bottle.

I stand idly by, hands clasped together in front of my body, waiting for my boyfriend to finish small talking with these women. He autographs things for them—an iPod case and a dirt bike magazine—and takes a dozen pictures because the second woman keeps looking at each one and determining that it’s not good enough for Facebook, so can he please pose with her again? Ugh.

Ugh, ugh, ugh. So much ugh. I hate people who love my boyfriend.

When they finally leave, Jace pulls me close to him and sways gently as we stand at the furthest part that I’m allowed to walk without having a plane ticket myself. I press close against his chest, closing my eyes to block out everything else. I smell him and feel him and listen to his heartbeat which is much faster than usual. I hate these goodbyes. The ones that feel like it will take an eternity to see him again.

I don’t pull away until Jace reaches into his pocket and pulls out his truck keys. “Here ya go. Take care of her
. I left a credit card in the glove box if you need gas money,” he says. “Or, you know… pizza money.”

I smile, feeling entirely more important than I am, and take the keys. I may be losing Jace for a week, but at least I get a piece of him to take home with me. Or, a piece of him that will take
me
home, rather.

Chapter 9

I get home around midnight, the same time Jace’s plane is probably leaving. It takes a lot of effort to climb out of his truck and go inside, but it’s not because I’m tired. This truck smells like him. That’s why I don’t want to leave it. In fact, I don’t even want to sit in the driver’s seat out of fear that my shampoo or laundry detergent will rub off and wear away his scent. But then I realize that a normal, sane person would not be thinking these things, so I suck it up and pull myself out of his truck, determined not to be as crazy as I want to be.

The moment my head hits my pillow, a red laser beam dashes across my ceiling.
I crawl out of bed and walk over to my window, kneeling to the floor. I push open the glass and lift an eyebrow at Chase, who is also sitting near his window. “What could you possibly want at midnight on a school night?” I ask.

“Sorry. I saw your light on just a minute ago when I couldn’t sleep. Figured you couldn’t sleep, too.”

“I just got home, actually.” I yawn, despite myself.

Chase looks like he hasn’t slept in a while. His white undershirt glows in the light of the moon. He rubs the back of his neck. “I just wanted to say that I didn’t know you had a boyfriend until today. So I’d like to apologize for how I’ve acted around you. If I had known earlier, I wouldn’t have… well you know.”

“No, I don’t know,” I say, leaning forward. “It’s fine, Chase, you haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I know I came on to you at that party. I don’t remember doing it, but I know I did. I had a huge crush on you and I started drinking so I’d get the courage to go say hello, but by the time I found you I was a little
too
drunk.”

I smile, remembering that night. I’m grateful he doesn’t remember it, but all he did was call me cute. He was sort of a total gentleman while drunk, which is saying something. Most guys aren’t.
“It’s fine,” I tell him.

“So how long have you been dating Jace Adams?” he asks.

“A few months. How did you know his name?”

He snorts. “Because he’s kind of famous, duh.
He seems like a great guy, Bayleigh. I’m really happy for you. ”

“He is,” I say. My eyes drift off as I think about him and how much I miss him.

“Is everything okay?” Chase asks, pulling me back to reality.

I shrug.
And then I do something really embarrassing. I tell him about the Facebook photos. And Jace’s long business trips. And my jealousy. The Winter Festival and my  birthday and how I’m terrified that he won’t be able to come. And, well, everything else.

Chase leans against his window frame as he listens to me recount everything that’s happened between Jace and me lately and how it’s making me wonder if I’m good enough to date someone with such a busy schedule.

Finally, when I’ve said all I can say and am feeling more depressed than ever, I stop talking and glance up at him. He frowns. “Bayleigh you need a hug. But my arms aren’t long enough to hug you from here so, just listen.”

The seriousness of his voice gets my attention. He continues, “The Facebook photo thing does suck, but I believe him and you should do. Girls do that shit…they take photos of hot guys and plaster it all over their Facebook so they can look important. They aren’t important and Jace does not care about them, I promise.”

“How can you promise me that? You don’t know.”

He nods. “Yeah, I do know. You are absolutely beautiful and one of the most fun girls I’ve ever been around. Jace knows that, too. He knows he’s the luckiest guy around to have you and he
sure as hell won’t throw that away on some skank at a party that he’ll never see again. He left his truck with you. That’s a pretty big deal.”

I feel warmth rushing to my cheeks and I’m glad it’s too dark outside for him to see me blushing.
“Thanks, Chase. I needed that.”

“No problem. I’m great at reassuring hot girls that their boyfriend loves them,” he says with a boatload of sarcasm. “You should get to bed. You have school tomorrow.”

I laugh. “
You
should get to bed! You also have school tomorrow!”

Chase stands and puts his hands on either side of the window pane, preparing to push it closed and block me off for the rest of the night. “So yeah… sorry for all the flirting with you.”

“Is that what you were doing? Flirting?”

He rolls his eyes and slides the window closed, apparently thinking I was being sarcastic. I wasn’t though, and now I’m wondering if he’s the sarcastic one. He sure seemed apologetic for it though, so maybe he was. Another thought occurs to me as I watch his light turn off and I slide my own window closed.

Maybe he doesn’t have a thing against girlfriends. Maybe he just didn’t want Becca as his girlfriend.

Chapter 10

Becca holds a clothes hanger up to her body while the golden dress that hangs from it presses against her. She turns to the full length mirror on the wall of the dress store and stares at herself. Her lip curls in disgust.

“What’s wrong?” I reach out and touch the satin fabric, trailing my hand down the skirt. “It looks good and it’s a great color for your skin tone.”

“That’s the problem.” She grabs the paper price tag affixed to the shoulder and swings it around in my direction. “It’s three hundred dollars. I can’t afford this.”

“Whoa,” I say, gingerly taking the hanger from her hand and placing it back on the rack. “I only have a hundred dollars to spend and that has to cover shoes too.”

Becca looks longingly at the golden dress. “I have eighty-six. But I probably have shoes at home that could go with a dress.”

We look around the store, a family-owned formal wear outlet
that occupies an old Wal-Mart, and find a section of dresses for a much lower price. I’m bummed that the more beautiful dresses are out of my price range, but I keep reminding myself (and Becca) that this isn’t prom. It’s just the Winter Festival and it’s not a real formal event but people like to get really dressed up for it.

Back at home, Bentley already has his little black tux laid out on his desk in preparation of the festival. I’m still trying to find something that’s hot
and
cheap. The only thing that would be worse than not finding the perfect dress would be finding it and then attending the festival without Jace.

As if on cue,
my phone lights up with a new text message.

Jace:
I miss you baby.

Me: I miss you more. Guess what I’m doing?

Jace: Um…watching that show about zombies?

Me: I’m shopping for a new dress.

Jace: What for?

Becca gives me a concerned look but I turn away and pretend to look at ugly pink dresses at the rack closest to me. My phone feels heavy in my hand as I debate what I should text back. I can’t believe he doesn’t remember why I would be shopping for a dress. I guess he had no intention of coming back here to go to the festival with me. Maybe he’s even forgotten that it will also be my birthday.

Me: If you can’t remember why then I guess I don’t need to keep shopping.

Five minutes go by. I slump into an uncomfortable chair outside of the fitting rooms and watch Becca parade by in three different golden dresses, all within her price range and all pretty awful compared to the expensive one. I still don’t have a reply from Jace and I’ve never been so freaking hurt in my life. This is my boyfriend. The guy I am completely crazy about. The guy I thought was completely crazy about me.

I almost jump out of the chair when my phone buzzes.

Jace: I don’t care what you wear to the festival, I just want to be there with you.

Normally that would be sweet. But right now I’m just not having it.

Me: Have you figured out if you’ll be in town or not?

Jace:  Not yet.

Another hour passes and we’re still at the dress store, only at least now I’m not watching Becca try on dresses in her price range. I’m trying on shoes just for the hell of it. Having given up on looking at the dresses, I’ve ventured over to the countless racks of discount shoes, ranging from boring black flats to six inch stiletto clear plastic heels with rhinestones all over them.

Who needs to waste money on a stupid dress anyway? Not me. Why would I want to look beautiful and dressed up at a place where I won’t even have a date? The digital camera that’s property of Lawson High School will be my date, and it doesn’t care what I look like.

Later, after having convinced Becca that I’m totally fine and my quietness is only because my head hurts and not because of anything bothering me, I begin doing what I’ve gotten really good at lately: lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling. It seems to be the only pastime I can find the energy to do now that the large rock of depression has formed in my throat and settled in the center of my chest.

Is my relationship over?

Why is that all I can think about?

I glance out the window but Chase isn’t at his house. That means I won’t be able to casually walk past my window a million times, hoping to “accidentally” see him. It seems strange that I’d rather talk to Chase about my problems than my own best friend, but lately everything is strange. Plus maybe I just need some guy wisdom.

My phone hasn’t rang all afternoon, and texting Jace in the dress shop is the last I’ve heard of him. I remember back when he worked at Mixon Motocross Park just forty-five minutes away, he would talk to me all day long. A lot of guys aren’t into constant texting or phone calls, and I can understand why. Normally, I wasn’t into that either. But Jace and I were talkers and texters and we loved staying in contact with each other all day long. From the Good Mornings to the Good Nights, I spent an entire summer and fall counting on Jace to be there for me whenever I needed him, and even when I didn’t need him.

Now he’s like a distant memory, an old relative who only calls on Christmas or birthdays. Okay, maybe it isn’t that dramatic. And he still finds a way to talk to me at least once a day, so our relationship isn’t bad, by any means. A lot of guys don’t like talking all day. It just sucks because Jace didn’t used to be one of those guys. Now he is.

I know I shouldn’t do it, but I log into Facebook anyhow. My heart beats rapidly inside my chest as I log in and look at my newsfeed. I don’t know why I get so nervous every time I check the
stupid social network…it’s not like I’m doing anything wrong. It’s not like I’m hacking into
his
account.

(Although it’d be a lie if I said I never thought about it.)

I type in Jace’s name and go his profile. A sharp pain pierces through my heart when I see the newest update to his page. Yet another girl, this time much younger and very beautiful, has uploaded a photo of herself and Jace. They’re very close, leaning in next to each other as she extends out her arm to take the picture herself. The caption says, ‘I met my favorite racer today! I’m so star struck, lol!’

My heart aches as I stare at my boyfriend’s face in the photo. He’s smiling, albeit a little bit forced. I know that logically he doesn’t like her and he probably doesn’t even remember her name. Just because he took a photo with her doesn’t mean he’s going to leave me for her. I know that. I do.

But it doesn’t make it hurt any less.

I miss my boyfriend and I need him to be with me.

With a sigh, I take out my phone and break the silent treatment I’ve been giving him since I was at the dress store.

Me: I miss you and I need you with me.

No better text than the truth, I guess.

His reply is instant.

Jace: I miss you more and I need you even more than that.

The pain in my chest doesn’t ever seem to go away.

Me: Then come homeeee!!!

Jace: Soon, baby. I promise.