Page 87 of The Second Kiss
"Didn't she just say she was done with you?" Brad moves closer to Jasmine, forcing her to take a step back toward her locker. She glares at him.
I slide my hand into his and pull him away, "Let’s get out of here."
"Whatever you want, babe," he kisses me and smiles at Jasmine like he's won. I don't look back as he wraps his arm around me and we walk away.
I’m standing in front of my closet trying to decide what to wear.
“What about me?” I’d asked when Brad told me his new friends had promised they could get him into the club even though he’s underage. “I don’t have a fake ID or–”
He laughed. “You don’t need a fake ID to get into a place like that, you’re a chick and you’re hot, but just in case, wear something sexy. Do you still have that skirt I saw you try on at the mall?”
It took me a few seconds to figure out what he was talking about. Then I remembered the skirt Jasmine bought me for New Years Eve. It’s in the back of my closet. The tags are still on it.
It’s as short and clingy as I remember it, but I put it on. Without Jasmine to direct me how to dress it takes me forever to decide what to wear with it. Finally, I pair it with a satiny red camisole that I usually wear under a jacket or sweater. My high heel boots lie in the neglected heap in the back of the closet where I left them in the last time I wore them, to the football game, and the after party. I run my fingers over the leather speckled with water spots, remembering.
Fear clutches my stomach. How did I end up back here? Brad swears that he’s innocent of everything that happened at the party. He said it was all Lexie. Convenient for him, she’s fallen off the face of the earth, so she can’t tell me her side of the story. A tiny voice inside me says that Jasmine is right and he's setting me up to be his back-up in case Lexie accuses him of something.
I push that thought away and apply makeup with a heavy hand. I spend a long time on my hair, pulling it up in a style thatI hope makes me look sophisticated, sexy, but especially older. I reach into my jewelry box for something to embellish the long swatch of bare skin between my collar bone and the low-cut v of the tank top. My fingers close around the locket Jacob gave me. I squeeze it until the metal hinge cuts into my palm, then I drop it and close the lid.
My neck can stay bare.
A stranger stares back at me from the mirror. She looks every bit what I was going for–older, sophisticated, sexy, but mostly lost. I close my eyes and turn away. My parents are out of town for the night. Matt has been home from basic training for a week, but he's spent most of that time at Kendra's. Tyler is staying the night at a friend's. No one is around to comment on my outfit or talk me out of this.
The doorbell rings. I pull on my boots and ignore the lump of dread that presses against my chest. Tonight is about having fun, about remembering what it feels like to be wanted. It’s not like my high standards have brought me anything but rejection and grief.
Brad steps back and lets out a low whistle when I open the door. He obviously approves of what I’m wearing. He puts his arms around me and leans into my ear. “You look so hot right now. Maybe we should just stay here.”
“Thanks,” I pull away, then reach to get a jacket to cover my bare arms, to show him that I amnotstaying in tonight.
Brad stops me, “You don’t need that. I’ll keep you warm.” He leans over and kisses me on the neck. I turn and kiss him back, long and slow. It feels good to be held and told I’m beautiful. It feels good to be wanted, even if I feel like a stranger in my own skin.
He takes my hand and spins me around, appraising. Then he reaches up and removes the clip so my hair spills over my shoulders. He runs his fingers through it, straightening thepieces I spent an hour trying to get just right. Finally he steps back. “I like your hair down. When you wear it up it looks too much like that stupid ponytail. Tonight is important to me. You need to look good.”
I close the door behind me. A shiver runs down my spine–a shiver that has nothing to do with the cold air that hits my bare arms as we walk out to his truck.
forty-three
Clubbing
“My girlfriend, Jess,” Brad says to introduce me when we meet his friends outside the club. Four very large college football players greet me. One of them, a tall blond with a broad chest nods his approval, “Very nice to meet you Jess. I’m Rob.”
“Are you sure we can get in?” I whisper to Brad as I watch the bouncer checking IDs at the door.
Another one of the guys, tall and dark with a long ponytail, overhears me. He laughs and fingers the strap of my tank top. “Don’t worry about it babe, we’ll take care of you.”
His touch and the way he says it makes my skin crawl, but I force a smile back at him. “How can I feel anything but safe with guys like you?” I’m not sure if he catches the irony in my voice.
We haven’t even reached the front of the line when the bouncer waves us in without asking for money or IDs. I glance at the growing line behind us and freeze. Laini is standing near the back. She's dressed in white again, this time it’s a skin-tight mini dress that sparkles even in the dim light. The guy she's with has his back turned, but I’d recognize Jacob anywhere. For a second I consider leaving, but the guys surge toward the door and Brad has his arm around my waist.
When we’re inside Rob leans close to my ear. “Told you we’d get in. Do you trust us now?”
The answer is, no, I don’t trust any of them, but I don’t tell him that. We walk to the back of the club, past the crowded dance floor and to an empty table.
“You want something to drink?” One of the guys says. I shake my head.
“Jess is a bit paranoid when it comes to someone bringing her a drink,” Brad says. They all laugh. I stare at him. I can’t believe he said that. It feels like he's taunting me, like he wants me to bring up what happened so he can deny it all over again.
Rob puts his arm around me. “Smart girl. Come with me and you can get it yourself.”
