Page 75 of The Second Chance Year

My brother gives me an exaggerated glare. “We sat on a broken-down F train for hours to get here tonight, and this is the thanks I get?”

My head jerks up.“We?”

“Yeah, Cat Lady. After your voicemail confession—which, by the way, I notice you didn’t listen to a word I said at Christmas, did you?—we hopped on the subway to come over here, but the damn train broke down on us.”

TheF train. It broke down during my Very Bad Year, and of course it broke down the second time around, too. Is that why I didn’t hear from Jacob? Because he was on the train? But if Owen is sitting across from me…Where’s Jacob?

Chapter 41

Ispin around in my seat to find Jacob standing on the stage in the front of the room. My breath hitches at the familiar sight of him: dark hair tousled from the wind, right hand tapping out a nervous rhythm on his thigh, those glasses that do all kinds of things to my insides. He dips his head before looking up, and then his eyes connect with mine. I shove on my brother’s arm until he moves out of my way and lets me climb out from the booth. Making my way toward the stage, I keep my gaze glued to Jacob’s, and when I’m about ten feet away, I stumble to a stop.

“Hi, Jacob,” I whisper, terrified and full of hope.

“Hi, Sadie,” he says softly. “I got your message.”

“Yeah? What did you think?”

He pauses, tilting his head to regard me across the distance. “I think,” he says. “I think I’ve loved you so long in silence, and it’s time for me to say it out loud.”

And then…

And then.

He sits down at the piano.

He takes a deep breath.

He lifts his hands.

And his fingers begin to move across the keys.

I gasp. My eyes widen and my head swings to my brother and friends in their booth, and then back to Jacob.What is he doing?Jacob doesn’tperformin front of people.Ever.I can see he’s nervous, I can see his hands shake, just a little, but he gives me a half smile, letting me know it’s okay. And before I can react, he leans into the mic and starts to sing. And I swear in that moment, my heart cracks like crème brûlée. Tears well up in my eyes at his beautiful, textured voice, and those dark, intense eyes focused directly on me.

I don’t recognize the song at first because the original is an up-tempo rock song played on the guitar, but Jacob has completely transformed it, stripping it down to simple piano chords and a beautiful, slow, sad melody. When it dawns on me, I let out a startled, teary laugh.

He’s singing a Tom Petty song.

I stand there, tears dripping down my cheeks, as the final chord rings out on the piano. He lifts his fingers from the keys and turns on the bench to look at me, scrubbing a hand across his forehead. And it’s so familiar. It’s déjà vu again, except last time, we were alone in his apartment, and it was the first time I’d ever heard him play. Last time, it was the moment I’d started to fall in love with him, and now, I’ve well and truly fallen.

Jacob stands, and I run up the stairs to the stage and into his arms. He crushes me against him, and I fist his shirt in my hands, holding on tight. And then he leans down and kisses me. From somewhere far away, a cheer goes up, echoingthrough the café, and a champagne bottle pops. Laughing, Jacob and I break apart and turn to find our friends standing and clapping and yelling.

Jacob looks at me, his smile open and unrestrained, without a hint of shyness. “I love you, Sadie.” He takes my face in his hands and kisses me again.

From somewhere far behind me, I hear Owen ask Mrs. Kaminski if he can try on her feather boa, and I smile, grateful to my brother for the distraction, for giving us this little bit of privacy. I have so much I want to say to Jacob, so much lost time to make up for. I pull him down on the piano bench next to me. “I found your CD, the one with the songs you wrote for me. That’s what I was doing in the car in front of your parents’ house that night. I was listening to it, and then it broke. I never got to hear past the first song. But that song is beautiful. It’s perfect, and I can’t believe you justdidthat right now. That you played and sang for me in public—”

“Sadie.” Jacob cuts me off mid-babble, which is probably the right move on his part. He smiles. “I’ve been waiting about two decades to have you in my arms and to hear you say something to me, and I’m wondering if maybe you could just—”

I clutch his shirt, pulling him closer. “I love you.”

He exhales a deep, shaky breath filled with so much emotion, it’s like he’s been holding it for all these years. I say it again, and then again. “You know,” I tell him, “it’s hard to shut me up once I get going. You might get sick of hearing it.”

“From that day you stood up to a bully on the playground for me—” He gazes out across the café as if he’s picturing itplay out. The dumpster, the saxophone case, and me telling some kid I’d squish him like a bug. “I thought you were amazing.” He turns to look at me now, admiration burning in his eyes. I remember the two of us on his couch during my Very Bad Year. I was lamenting my big mouth, wishing it didn’t get me into so much trouble. And Jacob said…

I wish you could see yourself the way I do.

So,thisis what it’s like to be loved by someone who appreciates who I am, not just who I could be or should be. Not just who theywantme to be.

“After that,” Jacob continues, “there was never going to be anyone else for me.” He gives me a lopsided smile and shrugs. “I waited two decades to hear you say you love me, and it’s going to take a lot more than two to get tired of it.”

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