Page 59 of The Second Chance Year

For a moment, I forget the awkwardness of the two of uscrammed into this closet.It’s happening next week.“Oh wow, thank you. You know I’ll always work hard, and I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t.” He reaches toward me, and I think he’s going to shake my hand, to make it official. But instead, his fingers lightly brush my arm from my elbow to my shoulder and back again. My eyes widen and my body stiffens like vanilla meringue.

“You had a little flour there,” he explains. Except it’s not really an explanation at all, because the flour is gone and his cold, clammy fingers are still pressed against my rapidly heating skin.

Is he—?

This isn’t—?

Is it?

No, I’m sure he doesn’t mean it the way I think he does. I’m overly sensitive because of Rob. If I make a big deal out of this, it will embarrass us both.

And then Xavier’s hand slowly wraps around my upper arm and his mouth inches closer to mine. I want to pull away, but it’s like I’m frozen here.

“Don’t worry,” he murmurs. “We can keep this between us.”

And—thank God—his voice knocks me out of my stupor. I push past him, and my shoulder lands squarely in his chest. Xavier goes careening backward from the force of it, directly into my carefully portioned canisters of dry ingredients. They tumble off the shelf and crash to the floor. The lids pop off, and flour billows through the air like an East Coast snowstorm.Xavier slips in the smooth powder and grabs on to the shelf to keep from falling over.

And I run. Out of the pantry, across the kitchen, and into the break room. I grab my purse and my coat and keep going, straight through the restaurant and out the front door. On Bedford Avenue, I nearly crash into a group of people walking past on the sidewalk, probably heading for one of the bars. They’re joking and laughing together, and I’m jealous of how carefree they are.

“Whoa, girl. You okay?” one of them asks, and I nod, extracting myself from their group and heading in the opposite direction.

I turn the corner onto a side street, and a gust of wind blows through my thin black tank top. Suddenly, I’m shivering uncontrollably, and icy tears stream down my cheeks. But I feel strangely detached from my body, like the whole sordid episode happened to someone else.

I stop in front of one of the brownstones lining the street and pull on my coat. The house is dark, the occupants probably asleep, and I’m jealous of them, too. My apartment is only eight blocks away, but now that Xavier’s is behind me, my legs have turned into jelly. I sink down on the front step of the house and dig into my purse for my phone. I try my brother, but he’s usually in bed most weeknights by ten thirty. I know he’d come in a second if I could reach him, but when his voicemail clicks on, I hang up.

The cold, damp step beneath me is seeping through my thin leggings, and the bitter wind is picking up speed. I should get up and go home, but I’m crying too hard now. I pull my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them.

And then I remember Jacob and his late-night café Americanos. If he’s working on a project, he could still be awake. The teeny-tiny bit of pride that’s left in me insists that I absolutely shouldnotdial Jacob’s number, but rock bottom wins out, and I hit the button next to his name.

He picks up on the first ring. “Sadie, is everything okay?”

The concern in his voice has my heart folding up. I can’t imagine what he must think with me calling him so late like this. “Yes,” I whisper because I don’t want to worry him. Except this is Jacob, and I can be at my worst with Jacob. “Actually, no.” I wipe my eyes on my sleeve. “Can you come?”

“Where are you?” I hear thumping on his end, a door opening and slamming, a key jingling.

I tell him the cross streets.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.” His voice sounds worried. Urgent. “Stay on the phone, okay?”

“Okay.”

I huddle on the steps listening through the phone to the rhythmic beat of his feet on the pavement, and in less than five minutes, I hear them in person, running down the block toward me.

“Sadie?” Jacob skids to a stop and kneels down in front of me. “What happened?” He’s panting so hard he can barely get the words out. Taking me by the shoulders, he looks me over like a child who fell off the swing set. “Do I need to take you to a hospital? Or call an ambulance?”

I shake my head. “No, it’s nothing like that.”

Jacob leans back to meet my eyes. “Do I need to beat someone up for you?”

At the image of shy, reserved Jacob giving Xavier the smackdown, I manage a watery smile. “Thanks. But no.”

His gaze roams over me. “Tell me what you need.”

At the gentleness in his voice, I’m crying again. Because I didn’t know it until this exact second, but what I needed was him.

Jacob slides his palm to my cheek. “Let me take you home.”

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