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I walk into the restaurant, spotting Blakely at a table. Why does she look as confused and upset as I am?
We talk for a second. I let her know about Jameson breaking it off when she taps my hand. Jameson and Judson walking through the door. I can't help but tense up, fighting the tears from filling my eyes.
He saunters his way to our table, looking between Blakely and myself.
"Can we talk?" He asks, offering Blake an apologetic smile. Blakely nods to me, insisting that I should talk to him. It's like she knows something that I don't. It almost has me worried that maybe this isn't a typical Jameson ditching me to drink with the guys moment. I stand following Jameson to his car. His demeanor is entirely different than I expected it to be. He almost seems paranoid.
He drives to the apartment in complete silence, and I refuse to be the one to talk. Call me stubborn, but he fucking left me at the football field and ignored me for two days. It's his turn to speak.
He pushes the key into the door, glancing around at my clothes on the couch, still on hangers, a couple more boxes than what I came with, some full, some not yet packed.
"Unpack this," he demands, slamming his fists into the kitchen counter, "Now."
"What?" I ask, confused. Unsure of what exactly is going on, and he looks like he might burst into a fit of rage at any second. I'm not afraid of him, not like everyone else is. He's known for being lethal at school. His temper rightfully earning him that reputation.
"I said unpack this shit, Hanna. I'm sorry. I love you. I shouldn't have pushed you away, it's just…" he lets out a deep sigh, "my dad showed up at practice the other day."
"Your dad?" I question, remembering he told me that his father and mother were both dead.
"He was in prison."
"You lied to me?" I choke out, tears falling uncontrollably.
"I just wanted to protect you. I thought you'd think differently of me if you knew. I know your parents would, I just… I didn't know how to tell you."
His confession nearly breaks my heart. He left because he thought I was like my parents. Like my mother. That I would judge him because of things that were out of his control.
The guilt of last night sends a wave of nausea and a confession from my lips, too, as I force my words out, "I kissed Jack last night."
A flash of anger flickers in his eyes, and his glare turns from apologetic to murderous as he nearly stomps out the door.
"Jay, wait!" I scream as he slams the door behind him, leaving me alone again.
