Page 97 of Finding Hope

She’s savage.

Jimmy howls and tosses the newspaper at his angelic mother. Even the previouslyabove it allIzzy and Tina snicker and hide their faces. Emma giggles and forgets she’s tired. And Jack, wrapping his armaround my shoulder and pulling my face against his chest, laughs and presses a firm kiss to my temple. “You’re in now, Bambie. The worst is over.”

“I hate you.”

“Jack.” Packing away dirty dishes and peeling slices of cut pancake off the table, Bobby glances up with a scowl. “After you lower Britt back out your window and toss her over the gates, we need to go to the gym. You have a fight to win and sponsorship deals to earn back. You’re costing me money.”

It could’ve gone worse, I guess.

At least Evie wasn’t listening to the worst of it. And after their initial ribbing, like it was a compulsion they justhadto fulfill, as soon as the awkwardness was so savagely laid down, everyone turned cool and the jokes were shared evenly again.

Jack might be right. Maybe I’m in. And maybe it’s over now.

But not quite.

I didn’t meet thewholefamily yet.

After a breakfast similar to the one I shared with Jack and the kids the first time, Jack walked me back up to his room, kissed me good and proper until I felt it in the tips of my fingers and down to the balls of my feet, then he allowed me to shower – time I used to recollect my dignity.

I checked my texts, several of which were waiting on my phone from my brothers; I replied‘I’m fine.’And from the girls; I replied‘I’ll tell you later.’Then Jack walked me out to my car, and even went so far as to open the gates, rather than toss me over.

Who said chivalry was dead?

Vaguely wondering if the next time I come back, there might be barbed wire circling the perimeter, I drove away content in the knowledge that Jack likes me enough that he’dprobablystill let me back in.

Now, an hour after my walk of shame through Kit and Bobby’s kitchen, I park my car in a place I was parked not so long ago.

Green grassy lawns. Flowers and trees. Clear blue skies, and birds overhead.

Shiiiiit.

Climbing out, I follow my feet along stone walkways lined with rose trellises and ornamental pear trees.

I know who I’m looking for, I know her full name, but it still takes mefifteen minutes of walking row to row, up and down while I read random names and dates and sadness fills me at so many narrow windows of life.

Then I find her.

Fresh daisies stand below her engraved name. White and purple, the open petals searching for the sun. My empty hands shake when I realize I really should’ve brought her something.

I stand awkwardly, ankles crossed, silver anklet shimmering in the sunlight, black painted nails standing out starkly against the otherwise beautiful surrounds of thick green lawn and pretty flowers.

“So… ah.” I bite my thumbnail nervously. “My name is Brittany Turner… and you’re Steph.” I’m not sure if I wish she could answer me. At least she can’t hit me for wearing her boyfriend’s hickeys. “I don’t know the protocol here…” I sit on the grass covering her grave. I hope really friggin hard that that’s not disrespectful. I don’t mean to disrespect her. I just want to talk.

Like confession.

“I just wanted to introduce myself.” I pick at the blades of grass nervously. Snapping them off, twirling them between my fingers, then throwing them down. “I know about you. I didn’t know it before, but now that I know, I know you and Jack were…are, kind of famous. I Googled you,” I confess and swallow down my nerves. “I didn’t know Jack was Jack until… well, after. But now that I know, I know that you and he were together since high school.

“He talks about you a lot, Steph. He’ll never forget you, I want you to know that. He loves you so fucking much, and I can’t even find it in my heart to feel jealous that he’s thinking of you even when I’m right there in front of him. How could I ever compete with the love of his life? How could I compete with this history?” My stomach flops painfully. “So, I won’t. I won’t compete. I’ll just walk beside you, you know? I’m not anything to compete with, so you don’t have to worry. Jack and I are just… friends. Who are attracted to each other.”

I nod like we’re having a real conversation and she’s agreeing with me.

“I’m really sorry you got hurt. I’m sorry that you met such a wonderful man, then you lost him.” Ridiculously, my eyes itch with unshed tears. I’m grieving for a girl I’ve never met. “People die every day, but somehow, yours feels worse. How is it fair that you got to be loved by someone like him, then have it taken away?” I shake my head.

It’s not fair.

“I’m not sure if you know about me. You probably do, because myentrance in his life was kind of…” I laugh, despite my tears. “Big. And he seems the type to tell the truth, obnoxiously so, so I figure his guilt for calling me a whore had him sitting here treating you like a confessional, too. It would explain the flowers…

“So yeah, I’m Britt the whore. Don’t worry, I’m not actually a whore, and I swear I’ll never hurt him. I’m sorry he was yours first, and now you’re not here. I’m sorry that Iamhere and I get to see him and touch him. I’m not sure if there’s something after this world, or if you can see us, but if there is and you can, I’m sorry that you get to watch me with him. I know that must hurt.”

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