Page 27 of Ace of Spades
My truck roars through the winding roads that I know so well, curving through the trees on the dirt road leading back to Cedar Creek. My headlights shine on the trailer that I grew up in as I pull into the trailer park, the ‘now under new ownership’banner hanging across the open front gate.
I spot Mom on the makeshift porch that’s falling apart, lounging in her rocking chair under the porch light withArtemis—her orange cat—in her lap, as if she had been waiting for me this entire time.
I kill the ignition, climbing the few steps up to the front door, Artemis jumping out of her lap at my arrival.
“Hey, ma,” I tell her, bending down to give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“I don’t know what it is—call it mother’s intuition, but I knew you’d be swinging by tonight. Come on in, honey, I’ve got some fresh sweet tea and I’ll order us some pizza.”
“Sounds great,” I say, forcing a smile. I still feel wound up from earlier, the half-hour drive having done nothing to slow my racing heart. Maybe that’s subconsciously why I had come here, because I knew that when I got in this state, there was nobody better to calm me down than my mom.
I follow her inside, her shoulder-length hair the same blonde shade as my sister’s. Kota looked like a younger version of my mom, with the same blue eyes, tan skin, and golden hair. I, on the other hand, had gotten most of my features from my dad, with my jet-black hair and fair skin. The only thing that I shared with Kota and my mom was our above-average height.
“So, are you gonna tell me why you’re here?”
“Do I need a reason to stop by and see you?”
“No, but remember that mother’s intuition that I was just talking about? Call it a sixth sense, but I know my son. Something’s bothering you, honey. So you can mope for the next hour until I finally manage to get it out of you, or you can save us both some time and just talk to me.”
I take a seat at the four-seater dinner table, the same one my sister and I had grown up eating at, as mom hands me a glass of tea.
I let out a long breath, running my hands over my face.
“Is it a girl?” Mom asks.
“No. I mean—I don’t know. It’s complicated.”
“Oh boy,” she says, taking the seat across from me. “Okay, so tell me more about this girl.”
I sigh, trying to figure out how to put everything into words when I don’t even know what’s going on in my own head.
The plan last night had gone to shit. I’d told the guys what Hailey had admitted during her birthday party. I knew it wasn’t my place to share, but it had made it sound like she either didn’t know what was going on, or if she did, she didn’t like it. It had made us reconsider everything, and we had all agreed to give her a chance and see if we could potentially even get closer to her, to get a better feeling of where she stood.
That was how we’d convinced Chance to take Ava to the dance, despite all of his objections. I had to admit, I actually felt bad for the guy—she was proving to be becoming a stage-five clinger. But I had been supposed to spend time with Hailey, since we assumed Ava would be bringing her along. I had even thought about inviting her myself.
I shouldn’t have been surprised to find out that Bradley had already beaten me to it. And worse? That she’d actually agreed to go with the fucker.
Her boyfriend.
No—not her boyfriend, according to her. So why did it still feel like a dagger in my chest?
“She’s…”
“Beautiful? Sweet? Amazing?” my mom tries.
“Infuriating.”
“Oh,” she says, leaning back in her seat. “Well I can’t say I expected that, but go on.”
“She’s… well she hates me, and I hate her. Or at least, I thought I did. I should, but I don’t think I do anymore. I mean, I do, but… I just thought things had changed between us. I thought we had started getting through to each other, started seeing each other differently. But I was wrong, and now I just feel… stupid.”
Mom watches me without saying anything, giving me the time to get my thoughts together.
“I let myself start seeing her differently, even though I knew exactly the type of person she was. It’s like she showed me who she was this entire time, and I still refused to believe it. I was naive, ma. But I think I so badly wanted it to be true, because those pieces of her that I thought I was seeing, when it was the real her, I really like those.”
“Well, tell me about those moments,” Mom asks.
I think back to the last three months, her amber eyes and bright smile flashing through my mind. She never smiled like that when she thought people were looking–it was reserved for moments where she was caught off guard, a genuine smile that wasn’t meant for everyone’s eyes.
