Page 71 of Beneath the Hood

My heart squeezes tight when his eyes droop.

“Look,” I continue. “I told you I’d do it, but I wish you’d realize I don’thaveto. I make my own money.” I smack my chest. “I make my own way.”

Desperation oozes out with every breath, willing him to notice all the hard work I put in. How much effort it takes for me to be seen.

He shakes his head. “I’m talking about asustainablecareer path, Blakely. Not a celebrity flash in the pan.” His finger jams into his newspaper. “You think they’ll care about you in five years? You think they care about younow?”

My throat swells. “Yeah, well... at least they remember I exist.”

His jaw snaps shut, the muscle working tight as he stares at me.

I turn around quickly, walking away before he can see the heartbreak he causes sliding down my face.

He doesn’t deserve my tears.

34

Jackson

Idon’t see Blakely the rest of the weekend, even though she’s all I can think about. As usual, her schedule’s booked—appearances with her friends, nights on the town, and photo shoots making it impossible for us to sneak away.

Normally I’d tag along and fulfill my “babysitting” duties, but it feels wrong to do her father’s bidding when I’ve had her cum on my tongue.

So instead, my weekend is spent resisting the urge to check her social media just so I can see her and trying to convince my mom to come to California for the holidays.

I don’t want to go back to Sugarlake.

Not yet.

Although, the thought doesn’t sting like it used to. Lately, I’ve even found myself nostalgic over the memories, missing the small town and everything in it. Longing for my friends, instead of living in solitude, save for a nineteen-year-old who I’m breaking all the rules for.

It’s these thoughts that fill me with hope. With the inner knowing that even if I’m not ready yet, that one day soon I will be.

With Blakely at my side.

A lightness sweeps through my body when I wake up on Monday morning and head into Donahue Motors. For the first time in almost a year, I feel like myself again. My smiles are genuine, not used as a cover for the festering hole inside of me.

I’d like to think it’s because I’m healing myself, but that’s not entirely the truth.

It’s because of Blakely.

It’s a dangerous game I’m playing and the logical side of me knows I should put a stop to it. I started bonding with her out of a need for distraction, and if I think on the situation for too long a sense of codependency prods at my fractures—the glue holding my pieces together entirely dependent on Blakely making them stick. I wonder if it’s the same for her.

But there’s no guarantee we even have tomorrow, so I might as well live for today.

I tinker around with my toolbox, my eyes floating toward the glass doors every few seconds, waiting to see her. But she doesn’t show up, and I can only procrastinate work for so long, so eventually I give in and start my day, my excitement twisting into an ache with every passing minute.

I’m beneath the hood of a Cobra when I hear the telltale smack of shoes on the concrete floor. My body thrums with anticipation and I know without even looking that it’s Blakely. I can feel the shift in the air, the one that’salwaysbeen there between us. The one I mistook for annoyance, when really, it was my soul scratching at my skin, reaching out to try and touch hers.

I haven’t felt like this in... ever.

With Lee, there was always a sense of calm. A warm blanket on a chilly night. One that sends comfort cascading over your skin and warms up your insides.

With Blakely, it’s a torrential downpour, making me desperate to cling to everything she is, terrified I’ll drown in her absence.

And if this type of feeling is possible, ifthisis how Lee feels for Chase, can I really fault her for her choices?

Something untangles from my chest and floats away at the realization.

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