Page 2 of Beautifully Devoted

“People try to show him special treatment all the time,” Jagger’s mom continues. “Fawning over him and trying to give him treats. And if I say no, I’m a bad mom, but if I don’t, I’m setting Jagger up to fall into the same bad habits as his father.”

My best friend’s eyes are glassy, and a pain I’m not capable of putting into words explodes inside me. I wish I could take this memory away from him, but I can’t. So, I do the only thing I can do. I tighten my grip around his waist.

“Jagger may look like his dad, but he doesn’t act that way. He’s a good boy. Polite. And he’s a good student. He knows the value of hard work,” my mom says.

“Thank you for saying that,” Jagger’s mom replies. “I know you’re right, but I still worry, you know? Attention is like a drug, or at least it was for Jeremy. If Jagger gets the wrong kind of attention… Will he be able to ignore it? Or will it skew his way of thinking? And what will knowing his dad left do to him? Will he still be my happy, loveable boy, or will he shut down? Will he blame himself, even though this has nothing to do with him?”

As Jagger’s mom lists her fears, I realize there’s a chance my best friend might be forever changed because of this, and I vow to do whatever I can to keep that from happening.

“Kitcat?” I whisper.

He stares robotically at the wall across from the stairway, where we have a bunch of family pictures framed. For the first time ever, they make me wince. I have to get Jagger out of here. Tugging on his hand, I manage to lead him up the steps back to my room, despite him maintaining his trance-like stare.

“Talk to me, Kitcat.” I shut the door behind us as he collapses into the bean bag chair only he has ever sat in. “Please?”

“He left.” He stares at the blank screen on the TV.

“Yeah.”

“How could he? Why?”

Gingerly, so I don’t spook him, I sink into the chair next to him. “I don’t know.”

“Is it me?” I can see his eyes welling up with unshed tears, even though he’s not looking at me.

“You heard your mom. She said this has nothing to do with you. I believe her.”

“How can you know?” Jagger turns to me with that same look of fear I saw in his eyes earlier.

“Because you’re awesome, and dads don’t leave awesome kids. Not unless they have to, so whatever made him leave had to be like, life or death, or something. It definitely wasn’t you.”

A lone tear slips down his cheek. “He didn’t say goodbye.”

I don’t have an explanation for that, and given the way Jagger’s watching me, he knows it. Another tear falls from his eye, which makes my chest feel heavy and hollow at the same time. I wonder if that’s what his feels like?

“He’s not gonna come back, is he?” Jagger whispers, and I’m not sure if he’s asking that to himself or me.

“I don’t know, Kitcat.”

“You won’t leave me, right?” My best friend’s voice is anxious. Panicked.

“Never.” I wrap my arms around his waist as he rests his head on my shoulder, soaking my shirt with his tears. I promise Kitcat, I won’t ever leave you.

Cameron

“You sure I can’t get you guys anything else?” Our waitress asks us, though her eyes never leave Jagger, who subtly retreats further into the red vinyl booth to put some distance between them. “The apple pie is really good. I can bring a slice on the house.”

Since Ruby’s is one of our favorite lunch spots, we’re well aware of how good the pie is, even though we hardly indulge in it. I’d be tempted to have a piece today since that gooey caramel sweetness and a scoop of ice cream would be a nice treat on what’s shaping up to be the hottest day of the summer so far, but our waitress had to go and ruin it.

Why does everyone fall for that crap about the way to a man’s heart being through his stomach?

“We’re good. Thanks.” Jagger smiles at her—a friendly smile, not a coy one—since he’s not trying to encourage her, though there’s an edge of finality to his tone.

“Oh. Okay. Well, thanks for coming in.” She leaves a bill on the retro Formica table, angled toward Jagger, where a heart is clearly visible around her name and phone number. She gives me an almost embarrassed glance before spinning away from the table and heading back toward the kitchen.

Poor girl never stood a chance.

It takes guts to put yourself out there for a guy, but Jagger will never respond to special favors. She might’ve had a shot before the pie offer–she’s cute–except, she brought a side of onion rings we didn’t ask for, which she claimed had been made by mistake and she didn’t want them to go to waste. Jagger has a no tolerance policy for special treatment, though and even I saw right through her act.

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