Page 39 of The Second Chance Year

Needless to say, I’m not looking forward to dinner with my parents. The memory of their disappointment at my inability to hold on to a great guy is still raw from the first time around. When Alex and I broke up during my Very Bad Year, my dad couldn’t speak for over an hour, and I’m pretty sure my mom cried in the bathroom. I’m not in the mood to sit through round two of that scenario, especially because they’ll try to convince me to get back together with him.

I’m feeling vulnerable enough that I just might do it.

In a complete reversal from my Very Bad Year, Alex has been calling and begging me to get back together with him. So far, I’ve been muting his calls and sending him to voicemail. But I loved him for years, and I admit that when I hear that familiar voice asking for a second chance, it’s hard to not be swayed. So, when I find my parents’ table at Russo’s and my dad’s first question is, “Where’s Alex?” I avoid eye contact and mumble that he had to work.

It’s not a total lie. I mean, Alex probablyisat work.

Luckily, Owen shows up before they can ask any more questions. “Hey,” my brother says, coming up to the table from behind me. My mom jumps up to give him a hug, and then instead of sitting down, she reaches for someone else.

“You brought Jacob! How wonderful to see you, honey!”

I spin in my seat as Jacob is released from my mom’s embrace and leans over to shake my dad’s hand. Owen grabs the seat at the head of the table, which means Jacob ends up directly across from me.

“Hey, Sadie,” he says, ducking his head. It’s a sign of his shyness that, in the past, I might have dismissed as weird. But now I know better. It’s almost like he needs a moment to work up to it, and then his eyes slowly drift to mine.

Jacob is one of those guys who unfairly has eyelashes for days, and I don’t know how he avoids them brushing against his glasses when he blinks. He hasn’t shaved today, and my gaze drops to his jaw. The memory of his bristled cheek marking my skin as his mouth moved across my neck sends a shiver through me. How is it possible that I can have such a visceral reaction to an experience that doesn’t exist for him?

Jacob looks at me sideways, probably because I’m staring at him with a blush working its way across my cheeks. I blink and force a smile that aspires for casual but probably lands somewhere closer to clownish. The server comes to the rescue before I can pull out my nervous babble, thank God. She drops the menus on the table and asks if we’re interested in seeing the wine list.

“Yes, we’re absolutely interested in wine.” It’s my only hope of getting through this dinner.

Once we’ve ordered our wilted salads and soggy pasta—if the kitchen staff at Xavier’s could see me at Russo’s, I’d never live it down—my mom starts fussing over Jacob.

“Oh, honey.” She presses a hand to his arm. “We sawBlack Moonon the day it came out. And as soon as I heard the opening music, I would have recognized it as yours anywhere.”

Black Moonis a sci-fi film that came out recently. I’ve seen the posters on bus stops around the city. I guess Jacob composed the music.

My dad laughs. “When the credits rolled at the end, Fran told everyone in the theater that the music composer is oursecond son.”

Jacob’s an only child, and both his parents are human rights lawyers who are always traveling to far-off ends of the earth. Growing up, he spent as much time at our house as he did at his own.

My mom pats him on the hand. “You were writing music at our house when you were eight years old.”

Jacob gives my parents a shy smile. “It all started on that old Mac in your basement.”

“We’re so proud of you. The piano in the scene where the astronaut finally meets his father…” She presses a hand to her heart, eyes tearing up.

I rearrange my silverware on my napkin, throat tightening. I’m not surprised that my mom and dad have kept up with Jacob’s career. They’ve been bragging about his accomplishments since we were kids. After all, he competed with Owen for the top spot in their high school class, attended the most prestigious music school in the country, and now he works as a composer. Who wouldn’t be proud of all that? But maybe this is why I kept my distance from him when we were younger. Because it only highlighted how little interest my parents take inme. Their actual offspring.

But I’m not a kid anymore. My parents’ interest in Jacob over me certainly isn’t Jacob’s fault, and holding on to this grudge is immature and petty. Especially because Jacob is my friend now. So, when my mom pauses to flag down the server for a glass of iced tea, I lean across the table. “Congratulations onBlack Moon, Jacob.”

“Thanks.”

“You didn’t tell me you had another Joshua James film coming out.”

He rubs his hand across the stubble on his chin. “I guess I’ve had my mind on my next project.”

“I’m always sharingmywork with you,” I tease him. Jacob’s become a regular at Higher Grounds these past few months. Mrs. Kaminski pulled another chair up to the counter for him, and she hisses at anyone else who tries to sit there. “Maybe we should go see it this weekend.”

“We?” His eyebrows shoot up. “Like, you and me?”

“Yeah, you and me.” For a moment, I think back to that day we ran into Paige in the hallway of their apartment building. They seemed to be pretty friendly then. Had that been a date? And have they had any more since? Maybe Jacob feels awkward because he thinks I just asked him out. Except he’s my brother’s best friend, of course Jacob doesn’t think I asked him out. I give his foot a light kick under the table, just like I would to Owen. “Let’s go see your film. Then when we get dinner afterwards, I promise I won’t announce that you’re mysecond brotherto the whole restaurant.”

“Yeah.” His gaze slides to mine. “I’m… definitely not your brother.” There’s an intensity in his voice that has my breath catching in my throat.

“So,” Owen interrupts from the end of the table. “I have some news.”

We all look up, and I brace myself because I remember Owen’s news from my Very Bad Year. While I’m happy for him, I’m also aware that my parents’ outsized reactions are going to rapidly kill my goodwill.

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