He shrugs. “I'm fine. I'm just…I don't know.”
I lean forward in my chair. “You might as well let it out. It's not like you have anyone else to talk to.” I glance at the phone in his hand. “Well, anyone who's physically here.”
He turns toward me, studying my face. The muscles in his jaw flex. He slides the phone back in his pocket. “I'm not gonna babble on like some kind of child,” he says, taking a stick and poking at the fire. “But, if you have to know, I guess you could just say I've totally ruined my life. I'm stuck. I don’t know where to go from here.”
“You're eighteen,” I say. “Your life isn't over yet. Just like how I know my life isn't technically over, but it sure feels like it.”
He drops the stick and leans back in his chair. “What's so bad about your life?” he asks in a condescending tone.
“Well for starters I'm stuck here all summer. Do I even need to go on?”
He snorts. “Please do.”
I suck in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I'm stuck here all summer without my friends, I'm grounded from everything including my phone which is killing me, and my sort of boyfriend just officially became my not-boyfriend.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “Sort of boyfriend? How is that a thing? Did he ask you to be his sort of girlfriend?”
I shake my head. “Screw you. I don't want to talk about it.”
His phone beeps again, but he ignores it. “How did you get grounded?”
I cross my arms and stare into the fire. “I don't want to talk about that either.”
“Okay I'll go.” Jace pops the knuckles on his left hand and then his right. “I just lost a two million dollar contract over a fucking girl.”
My mouth falls open. He continues. “I had just signed to ride with a factory sponsorship when I lost it all because I got thrown in jail. My agent says there's no way in hell they will give me the contract again now that I'm out. Apparently motocross is a family sport and they don't think my bad attitude fits in with the family vibe.”
I picture the magazine article in the gas station. I knew he was a big deal if he's in magazines, but I had no idea he was a two million dollar big deal. “Wait,” I say. “How does a girl play into this?”
“I was in jail for four months on an assault charge,” he says somberly, ignoring a phone beep once again.
My heart races as I try to ask the question I'm thinking but no words come out of my mouth. Jace doesn't seem like he's a violent person…but what if he is? “Did you…” I start, unable to make myself finish the sentence. Beat up your girlfriend?
With a sigh, Jace takes out his phone again and skims through all the messages he ignored. My heart aches, wishing I had my own phone back. I have no idea how people survived before phones existed.
“He was a guy I raced with, and he pissed me off. He got what he deserved.”
“Did you hurt him?”
He stares at me, unwilling to answer. “Oh my god,” I say. “What'd you do to him?”
He waves his hand through the air. “He was fine. I just taught him a lesson.” He throws his head back and stares at the night sky. A laugh escapes him. “At least I thought I taught him a lesson. He may have fucked my girlfriend but in the end, I'm the one who got fucked.”
“I'm sorry,” I say, feeling like I'm intruding on his very private emotions. I shouldn't have asked him to talk. He lifts his hands and covers his face, dragging them slowly through his hair. If I didn't know better, I'd think he was holding back tears. “She never should have done that to you.”
I rack my mind for something comforting to say. He looks at me. “No, she shouldn't. But he knew what he was doing. I was his competition, and he got rid of me.” He shrugs his shoulders in defeat. “Smart guy.”
I kick at the small bits of firewood near my feet. “So when you got out of jail you banished yourself to Salt Gap, Texas?”
Jace nods. “I've officially owned the place ever since I turned eighteen. I never came out to see it because I was too busy. I never understood why a man I'd never met would leave me everything he owned…but maybe he knew I'd need it someday.”
He grabs his IPad off the plastic table next to him and searches for a new song to play. “I'm sick of this playlist. I think it's time for some online radio, eh?”
My heart skips a beat. “You have WiFi on that thing?”
He nods, his eyes going wide a second later. “Why are you giving me that look?” he asks.
I lean forward in my chair, clasping my hands together in front of my chest. “Do you think…maybe I could… um...?” He rolls his eyes, probably guessing what I'm going to say. “Could I check my Facebook? Please, just real fast?”
