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“Jamie,” Dean finally speaks up.
She rolls her eyes, ignoring him as she tugs on the front of my t-shirt. “I’ll see you later?”
“Yeah,” I breathe out.
And then she’s gone, walking away, and I can’t seem to take my eyes off her, even when she’s no longer in view.
“She does that,” Dean says, standing beside me.
“Does what?”
After a weighted silence, he says, “She takes over every part of you until there’s nothing left. It’s the greatest feeling in the world, but sometimes… the world isn’t enough with her.”
I look over at my ex-friend. “Were you always this much of a pompous asshole?”
33
Jamie
According to Holden,we’re right on schedule for the work at Esme’s. Though, I have noticed that a lot has been done since I was here last, and I don’t know if she’s paying someone to do the work. Holden would be pissed if she were. Or, at least interrogate her on who is doing it and how much they’re charging. Obviously, Holden has a soft spot for her. Me too, apparently, because he asks, “Tough day?” He’s standing by the bench in Esme’s yard, staring at his empty water bottle as if he doesn’t know how it got that way.
My eyes snap to his. “What?” And also:how did he know?I’ve been a little quieter than usual, but I’ve tried not to make it obvious.
Setting the bottle back on the bench, he motions in my direction before moving toward me, eyeing my legs. Since I returned Tammy’s clothes, I’ve opted to wear denim cut-offs and a long sleeve tee whenever we come to Esme’s. “Your leg,” he states. “You’ve drawn on it, and you said…” he trails off, pulling out his phone from his pocket. He comes in close, and without permission, snaps a picture of my thigh.
“You realize how creepy that is, right?”
“I’m fully aware,” he says, shoving his phone back where it belongs. “So what’s up? Did something happen?”
I heave out a sigh. “Yes. And no. Not really.” I look up, right into his eyes. “I know it’s all in my head, and I need to just shake it off, but I don’t know. It gets to me.”
He stares at me, a blank expression trained on his features. “What the fuck are you talking about, Taylor?”
I half-smile, half-curse him for being able to force that single emotion out of me. “Bethany,” I state.
“Ah.” He scratches at his temple. “Before you tell me about it, am I simply listening, or are we problem-solving?”
I cock my head to the side. “Huh?”
“Well, I don’t want to give you unsolicited advice if you didn’t ask for it because that can be patronizing as hell, so if you just want to take an emotional dump on my chest then—”
“That’s gross.”
“It’s a figure of speech.”
“No, it’s not.”
He rolls his eyes, says, “Am I listening or we problem-solving?”
I ponder this a moment. “Listening.”
Taking my hand, he links our fingers and leads me to the bench, waiting until I’m seated, before sidling up next to me. Arm around my neck, he brings me in closer, and I rest my head on his chest, staring at the small waves cascading along the pool’s surface.“Spill it,” he says, his thumb stroking my arm. It’s such an intimate move, and I don’t know how we got here.
“I had to use the little girl’s room between classes, and when I got out, Bethany was at the sink. She was crying. And when she saw me, she tried to hide it, and then she kind of just stood there, intimidating me without meaning to, and I almost opened my big fat mouth to apologize for something that isn’t even my fault.” I take a breath and continue, “And then she left, and I swear I waited a whole minute before leaving the restroom. But she was still there, in the corridor. And the worse part? We were both going to the same class! Her legs are so much longer than mine, but swear, I felt like I was walking heel-to-toe just to keep my distance, and…ugh. It was just awkward and dumb, and I don’t know. I keep thinking about it—like I should’ve said something, but what, you know?”
Holden doesn’t respond, and so I pull back, look up at him. “Sucks,” is all he says, shrugging.
I groan. “It’s pathetic.”
