Page 22 of Hiding from Hope

“Mmhmm. So good, Jessie. Now let’s get you into bed.”

“Oh, no. You can’t come to mibed. You Adinson’s friend. Off limits,” he grumbles, punctuating the last two words perfectly enough that it makes my stomach sink just a little. I already knew all of this but hearing him actually say it leaves the bitter taste of disappointment. He turns to look at me and raises a wonky eyebrow. “I don get you,” he says low, the scent of whiskey enveloping us as I haul him through the living area to his bedroom.

“What don’t you get, Jay?” I ask, but not really focusing on the conversation because I am trying to haul a man triple my size through an apartment.

“Why you hang aroundme. Why you’ve hope.” He says it as we make it to the bed, and it’s a good thing because I’m so shocked by his question that I stop and he falls, the mattress catching him.

“I… what do you mean? I think you’re great.”

“Butthass what I dongettt.” His words slur, and he says all of this without looking me in the face. “No one thiks I’m great, I’m aggressively not great. I’m like…” he fumbles for the words as he tries to peel his pants off. He must forget I’m in the room and he isn’t just undressing by himself. I turn to face the door, trying to give him some semblance of privacy. “I’m college sex, good. Not exciting, spot- spona-you know, friend material, good, you know?” No, Jay, I don’t know.

“I think you’re a bit drunk, Jay, and I do think you’re exciting.”

“Yeah?” He looks up at me, now shirtless, pants-less, and sitting on his bed in just his boxers, looking like an absolute dream, even with his glassy eyes.

Holding on to hope that he just passes out and forgets I’m even here, I nod and smile, walking over to him and smoothing his wild hair. His eyes close at my touch and he leans into my palm. “Yeah, Jay. I think you’re the greatest.” He starts to nod and lay back to the bed. When I think he is going to fall asleep, his deep husky voice fills the room. “Can you call Jenny’n tell her that? Maybe… maybe if she hears it from you, she’ll change her mind.” Something sharp and painful spears itself in my stomach. A pain I have no right feeling because I knew he was still hung up on Jenny. I knew he was healing and shut off from everyone for a reason. It was the whole point of me being his friend. It is just a cold and sobering reminder of why this stupid crush I have is pointless and a waste of my energy.

I pick up Jessie’s discarded clothes and hang them on the back of his door as I respond. “Why would hearing it from me mean anything to her, Jessie?” I know he is drunk, and yet I feel confident in my responses, like it’s the only time I’ll get any honesty from him.

“Because you’re special. Youcould leadher back with your magic.” Okay, there is honesty, and then there is just plain delusion. It hurts maybe even a little more that, in this fantasy, I’m the fairy godmother that grants his wish. Just once, it’d be nice to be the prize. I wasn’t prize enough for Connor to bother with any effort. Not prize enough for my sister to really give me a whole lot of attention. Apparently, my magic extends only as far as bettering people’s lives until the next best thing comes along. And for Jessie, that isn’t me.

I don’t respond this time, I just close his door and try to tiptoe my way out of his room—

“Ow!” I try to whisper-scream so I don’t wake the drunk baby. I stub my toe on his reading chair on the way out of his room, and when I look down at the stupidly placed furniture item, my eyes snag on a stack of paper peeking out underneath. I use my foot to nudge it and realize it’s bound together. I pick it up and—

“Oh, it’s a manuscript,” I whisper to myself, reading the title, ‘Fragments of Me’ by Jessie Jenkins.

“Jessie wrote a book!?” I whisper-shout again. “Oh my god!” I sit down on the reading chair and flick on the light, immediately turning to the first page and diving into the first chapter.

A tear drops to the page, and it brings me back. I quickly wipe it from the page and realize I’ve been sitting here for 2 hours, already nine chapters deep and weeping like a baby. Oh, Jessie. My heart feels like it’s being pulled in two different directions. It breaks for the pain and sorrow he feels deeply, that is evident within his words, but also so incredibly impressed because this… this is an amazing piece of writing and I wish he had the confidence to show it to the world.

“Immediately unthink that idea, Casey,” I chastise myself. Because what I’m thinking would be a really, really bad use of a new friendship. It feels like a gross betrayal of his trust. I snap the book closed and stand, grabbing my bag and wiping my eyes. I throw the manuscript on to the chair and stare at it.

Bad idea.

Bad idea.

“Dammit,” I mutter to myself. Snatching the manuscript, I run for the door.

Jessie

Water. I need water, Advil.

Maybe a bullet.

Fuck.

How much did I drink last night? It feels like a thousand suns burn through my window, searing my eyeballs and causing my skin to dry as I wake the morning after… well, after whatever the fuck happened last night. How did I get home? I vaguely remember soft auburn hair being tangled in my fingers in the back of an Uber. I somewhat recall Caleb, Ethan, Lucas, and I in a shout for shout after everyone else bailed. Except not everyone bailed. Casey, she was there. I don’t know what she was doing, but I remember her sitting on her phone in the corner for a while.

BANG BANG.

“No,” I barely get out. My throat feels like a desert as I try to throw a pillow on my head and ignore the knocking on my front door. I don’t care if it is a Tuesday. It isn’t my opening shift, anyway. I literally have nowhere to be until at least 11am.

“Go away.”

“Unlikely. OPEN UP!” Riley’s voice shouts from the other side.

“We brought goodies!” And that sounded an awful lot like Ava.

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