But Saxon was serious. “I’m saying that I care about you. Even if I do some fucked up stuff, I would never want to see you hurt. That’s all I’m saying.”
My laugh caught in my throat. This was the other part of the complication with Jake. Jake hated Saxon. He wouldn’t approve of my spending any time with him. I didn’t want to irritate Jake. But I wanted to be near Saxon.
As much as I was whining about ruining things with Jake, there was a huge part of me that felt free. I was glad that I could let Saxon kiss my hand and tell me he cared about me without feeling that obligatory stab of guilt that I felt when I was Jake’s girlfriend. Maybe being someone’s girlfriend just wasn’t the right thing for me.
“I care about you, too,” I said, and I meant it with my whole heart. “And I think you should keep your distance from Jake when we get back. I can’t force you to do anything. It’s just advice.”
Mom and Thorsten looked over at me, and I wanted to just get home and collapse. I put my arms around Saxon and hugged him hard. “Thanks for everything, Saxon.”
He buried his face in my hair and sighed. “God, I wish you were thanking me for so much more.”
Then I went to Mom and Thorsten, and Saxon went to do who knows what. He had probably driven himself to the airport. Lylee could be flitting off anywhere. He said he liked his freedom, but, at that moment, the cocoon of love from my parents was feeling really good.
Chapter Eleven
Mom and Thorsten chatted and caught up, and I was able to close my eyes and try to make peace with my crazy life. I wanted to run. So many hours on the plane left me feeling cagey, and so many thoughts in my head made me feel a little like puking.
Finally, we pulled up my street, and I felt so happy and peaceful. I looked at the familiar trees passing out the window and when we came to our driveway, I felt so good, I almost couldn’t contain it. I ran through the door and it just smelled right. It smelled like home, and it was the best smell I could have imagined.
“You look tired, sweetheart,” Mom said. “Do you want to go and lie down?”
I told her I did. I hugged and kissed them both twice and opened the door to my room. Oh, my room! I loved the one robin’s-egg wall, the bright poppy bedding, the paper lamps, and glass-fronted bookshelves! I loved it all!
I was feeling so great, it didn’t seem like anything could ruin it. Until I saw my bangles, laid out carefully on my desk. They were the bangles I left at Jake’s house, because he wanted them as a little reminder of me even when I wasn’t there. I felt my throat clamp tight. They were a sign. We were over and he wanted to make it unquestioningly clear to me.
I lay on the soft down of my cover and felt the tears run hot and quick down my face. I burrowed deep under the covers and imagined I could smell him on them. I turned my head into my pillow and cried, long and hard. I muffled my sobs and let my body shake until I felt tattered and worn out, until there wasn’t one more hiccup or hot tear left. Then I slept, and it was a cold, dark, silent sleep.
I woke up and it was late in the morning. Thorsten had come home especially to pick us up, but he was going into the city to make up for lost hours. Mom wanted to head to the college. She had a notebook full of neatly written lists and timetables, and I could see her itching to show them to her boss. Her passion for everything always made me smile.
“You look awful, Bren.” Mom pressed a hand to my forehead. She put a bowl of hot oatmeal in front of me. “Did you get any sleep?”
I shook my head. “I should have slept on the plane. I think I messed myself up.”
“You should go back to bed for a bit. Or do you want me to stay here?” Her eyes were bright with worry.
“Mom, it’s just jetlag. I need to get back on schedule, that’s all. You worry too much.” I gave her a weak smile.
She didn’t look reassured. “I’ll be right at the college.”
“I’ll probably just zonk out.” I spooned the oatmeal obediently into my mouth. “But, you know, I might take a run or a bike ride. I don’t really want to throw my schedule off too much. I have school tomorrow.” We had missed all of winter break, but could start back with everyone else the next day, Monday.
“Baby, if you need to take a day, take it.” Mom’s face was lined with worry. “You push yourself too hard, Bren. Indulge, right? Didn’t we talk about that?”
I suppressed the urge to groan. If only she knew how I had taken her well-meant advice.
“Maybe I will,” I said, noncommittally. “Maybe I’ll ride to Kelsie’s in a little bit.”
“It would be fun for you to see her.” Mom grabbed her purse and keys. “Well, I’m off. Keep your cell on you. And be careful, sweetie. You know I hate the idea of you riding around on your own.” She frowned and kissed my head, then she was gone and I was all alone in my big, empty house.
The last day of winter break. When I had looked forward to it, before I knew about Paris, I imagined all of the things Jake and I would do together. I imagined this last day as a day filled with cuddling and more, goofing off and laughing about all we had done that week. I washed my bowl out in the sink and wondered at how it had all gone so wrong.
I was literally shaky from everything running through my head. I wanted…closure or peace or some kind of reassurance. I took a shower and got dressed in a super soft pink sweater and gray jeans. I was going for soft and pretty and maybe a little innocent. I put on makeup and did my hair and looked super cute. I got my bike out and remembered that this last day of break wouldn’t have been filled with cuddling anyway. Jake always had work on Sunday. He would be at Zinga’s.
It wasn’t far from my house at all. In fact, Zinga’s was closer than Frankford. I headed there without letting myself think about it too much. And when my bike tires crunched on the gravel, I parked and went to look around without letting myself analyze what I was doing.
Then I saw him, and my throat closed up. Maybe it had all been physical for me. Maybe I was just ruled by my traitorous, hussilicious body. Jake wore his typical winter uniform; baseball cap with a skull cap over it, Carhart jacket, faded jeans, beat up work boots. His body was long and lean, but defined with muscle. I knew every muscle, every jutting bone and every smooth and hairy plane of skin. I felt like it was mine, no matter what I had done to ruin our bond.
He didn’t see me. I could see his face. He was smiling, his gray eyes crinkled, his eyetooth crooked and perfect. My heart swelled, until he caught sight of me.
It was like an eclipse. All of the warmth and laughter and general happiness was gone. He yelled that he was taking a break and stalked over to me so aggressively, I felt a little nervous. I knew nothing at all about angry Jake. He had never shown me anything but love and goodness. I didn’t know what to expect from him, but whatever it was, I deserved it. I had brought it on myself.
He came so close we would have been in each other’s arms if he had put his around me. He didn’t
He stopped just short of smashing into me, but I could tell it took all of his effort to stop. He licked his lips nervously and looked at me for a few seconds, his eyes filled with a combination of fury and longing.
“Why are you here?” he demanded.
“I’ll leave.” My chicken heart showed its true self. I turned to go and his hand grabbed mine.
It was just like I remembered, big and rough and cold around my softer, smaller, smoother hand.
“Don’t go,” he said in a ragged voice, yanking me back to him. “I asked why you were here. You didn’t call me. I didn’t even know you were back.”
“Well, I’m back. Last night. I thought you made it clear you didn’t want me to call,” I added, my voice little more than a squeak.
He raised one eyebrow. “So you came in person instead?”
“I needed some apple tarts,” I lied. “For Thorsten.”
“And you decided to ogle the help on the way to the store?” His voice was cold and a little distant, but still a tiny bit flirty. Things hadn’t snapped back to the way they were. What had I expected anyway?