Page 84 of The Second Kiss
“Make it ten.”
“Okay fine, whatever.” I need him to hurry. I don't want Jacob to leave.
He walks over to his drawer and opens it, blocking it with his body so I can't see inside. Like it makes a difference. “How much do you need?”
I think for a minute. “Like $200, no $220.”
He looks skeptical, “That much, why?’
“No questions, remember. You know I’ll pay you back.”
He counts out the money. I’m pretty sure he’ll be moving his money after this—someplace safer, like his underwear drawer.
I fold the money into an envelope and write a quick note. “Car repair.” Then I put another note on the twenty. “For breakfast.”I seal the envelope and send Tyler down to give it to Jacob. That costs me another five dollars.
I’m standing behind the curtain in my bedroom when Tyler hands Jacob the envelope. He glances up at my window when he takes it. Tyler heads back to the house as Jacob tears open the envelope. I move away from the window. I hope he gets the message.
I don’t want to owe him anything.
forty-one
What You Can't Outrun
The rain streams across my face. My shoes are soaked and it just keeps coming down harder. I don’t care. I pour every ounce of my hurt and rage and frustration into my run.
Forget him. Forget him. Forget him.
The mantra jars against my aching heart with each step. I force myself to remember every time Jacob did something that hurt me–all the times he made me feel too young or too stupid, or just not good enough.
Why did I waste so much time on him?
“You must be pretty pissed about something.”
I jump sideways and jerk one earbud out of my ear. I thought I was alone on the trail. No one else is crazy enough to be out running on a day like this, but Brad is beside me, like some soaking wet specter of a relationship that won't go away. He’s been in the rain at least as long as I have. I was so much in my head that I didn’t hear him coming.
“What are you doing here?” I demand.
“Running,” he says. “I’m still allowed to do that, right?”
“Sure.” I take a breath and move to put my earbuds back in. Brad is the last person I want to talk to right now.
He puts his hand on my wrist to stop me. “So, who’s the lucky guy on the other end of your rage this time? Soulja boy again?”
“What makes you think I’m mad at someone?” I demand. It’s a stupid question, considering the level of my voice.
“The look on your face, the music you’re listening to,” he indicates the hard rock pouring out of the earbud in my hand, “and, well, the fact that it took me about ten minutes to catch up with you. I know you Jess. You only run that way when you’re pissed.”
“I’m fine.”
He grins. “I know what that ‘fine’ means too.” I glare at him. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said it that way. You are fine and you will be fine. And obviously this guy is a complete asshole or an idiot, probably both. Like I was.”
“Are you finished?”
“I am if you want me to be. But if you want to talk,” he indicates the trail in front of us. “We’re heading the same direction.”
“I came here because I wanted to be alone.”
He steps back, hands up in surrender. “Whatever. I’m just saying. You might feel better if you talk things out. I always felt better after we ran together and talked." His voice softens. "It might be the thing I miss the most, being able to talk to you.”
