Page 33 of The Second Kiss
fifteen
Smoke and Mirrors
Ikeep from throwing up until we’re at the house and I’m alone upstairs. Then I lose it. When I’m done puking, I rinse out my mouth and wash my face with a damp cloth. The bathroom smells like vomit and I have visions of Jacob, or really anyone coming up to the stench, so I open the window to air it out. I lean into the cool air to clear my head. The air smells of smoke, rain, and cut wood.
Voices float up from the woodshed below. "The dry wood is against the wall," Matt says.
"Got it." Jacob replies. They keep talking, but the clang of wood hitting the wheelbarrow covers their voices. The noise pauses long enough for me to hear Jacob ask, "What do you know about that guy who got in my face when Jess got hurt?"
I hold my breath.
"Brad?" Matt asks.
"Yeah."
"I dunno. We used to play football together. He's a couple of years younger than me—Jess' age. Kind of arrogant, but mostly a good guy. He's a great football player," Matt answers.
"And he used to date Jess?" Jacob asks. I strain to decide if there's anything behind Jacob's question.
Matt laughs. "I mean, she used to talk about him all the time, and he picked her up for school sometimes, but I thought it was kind of a one-sided thing."
There's another beat as more wood lands in the wheelbarrow. Then Jacob says, "He came to your house when I was here. She said he was an old boyfriend."
There's a few seconds of silence. Matt asks with disbelief, "Are you sure it was the same guy?"
"Absolutely. He was a real jerk to her. I told him to leave. That's why I was so surprised to see him here today. I didn't think you'd invite a guy over who treated your sister like that."
A couple more logs thud into the wheelbarrow. "You must have misunderstood. Brad is a good guy. He was a big deal at school, even as a sophomore, especially with girls. Why would he be interested in a girl like Jess anyway?"
My heart drops. Even my brother thinks Brad is above me, out of my league.
Jacob says, "Dude. Have you taken a good look at your sister lately?"
There's a minute of silence, long enough that I can hear the fire crackling across the yard and other, more muffled conversation.Then Matt asks, "Have you?" His tone is protective, almost like he's accusing Jacob of... finding me attractive?
I lean closer to the window, but Taryn calls through the bathroom door, "Jess, are you okay? Do you need anything?"
Jasmine joins her. “You should come down. Hot guys and s'mores are waiting."
I'm torn. I look horrible. I feel horrible. I don't want to face Brad again, but I'm dying to know what Jacob meant by what he said. Was he standing up for me–being the same brotherly Jacob he's always been, or could he finally be seeing me as something more than the little girl he grew up with?
"I'll be there in a sec," I call back. My wrist throbs in pain as I change my clothes and reapply my make-up. There's no way I'm going to get through tonight without help. I spot my salvation in the medicine cupboard–a bottle of pain pills, left over from getting my wisdom teeth pulled. Pain meds always put me out, but maybe if I only take half, I can survive tonight.
Everyone’s sitting around the bonfire roasting marshmallows when I come outside. Brad stands up when he sees me. “I saved you a chair and I have an ice pack for you.” The circle is dark and smokey. My wrist is still throbbing and there aren't any other places to sit. I follow him to a double camp chair. He sits down next to me, wraps his arm around my shoulder and puts the bag of ice on my wrist. “How’s that?”
“Okay.” I grit my teeth against the pain that shoots down my arm. I shiver. Brad tucks a blanket around both of us.
The pills must be kicking in. Everything feels hazy. Jacob and Bryan are talking on the other side of the fire. Jasmine is flirting with Carl or Mark, probably both. Taryn is roasting a marshmallow. Kendra and Matt are cuddled up in a blanket, oblivious to everything else. The faces start to blur in the smoke and flames. My head bobs and I lean against Brad's shoulder.
“Marshmallow?” He holds a perfectly browned marshmallow in front of my face.
I shake my head to refuse his offer and to try to clear the gathering fog. He pops it in his mouth and then licks the marshmallow off of his fingers. “Tired?”
"Yeah." I answer honestly.
“Cold?”
“A little.”
