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Maybe it would’ve. Maybe it wouldn’t have made a difference at all. Maybe it would’ve made things worse.
We’ll never know, so there’s no point wondering about it. We can only deal with what’s going on right now, and we will.”
I nod at him, forcing myself to get my emotions under control. I can’t have another breakdown, not right now, not while Jason’s trying to figure everything out and I’m only serving as a distraction.
Goose bumps rise on my skin from the cool night air, and I realize I’m still clutching my purse and Jason’s sweater.
He drops his hand and nods at the bundle. “Put it on, and let’s figure out how we’re getting home.”
I do as he says. The sweater’s warm and smells like him. It calms my nerves immediately. I might steal this one too and start a collection of Jason’s stolen sweaters. I put on my purse cross-body style so I don’t have to worry about it and slip my phone into it.
“There’s no way in hell I can call Dario or Zia Stella to come get us,” I admit, my cheeks burning with shame.
Dario is a bad report card away from kicking me out, and Zia Stella is at work and won’t answer.
Jason pulls out his phone. “Natalia’s at a fundraiser; I’m not pulling her away from that. Maybe Jackson hasn’t started drinking anything yet.”
He clicks around on his phone then puts it on Speaker.
It rings a few times before it connects, loud music filling the phone before Jackson’s voice answers with a slurred,
“Brother! Jason! My brother! Where are you?”
Jason and I exchange a look. Clearly Jackson as a driver is ruled out. Before either of us can answer, Jackson says, “Hold on, what? You don’t need—all right, fine.
Jason, Tyler wants to know if you can stop and get more limes.Apparently, he’s decided he can no longer stomach the taste of tequila without a chaser, even though we’ve been chugging it straight all night.”
JacksonandTyler are out.
Jackson adds, “And Nyah’s been asking for more soda for the . . . oh, never mind, she’s drinking the rum straight now with Warren.”
And so are Nyah and Warren.
“I might not make it tonight,” Jason says.
“What?Why?You said you were on your way . . .ohhhh. I know what’s happened. You and Siena have pulled over on some dark, secluded dirt road and are bang—”
“Goodbye, Jackson!” Jason yells over his brother, clicking the bright-red button and ending the call. “Ignore him,” he says to me, a statement that’s becoming a standard whenever he ends a call with his twin.
My cheeks heat from the mental image Jackson’s words have produced, and I look down so Jason won’t read my thoughts.
“So clearly our friends and parents are out. Who else can we call?” Jason asks, scrolling through his phone.
I feel bad, since I really have no suggestions to contribute. Gia can’t drive, and the only other person I’d consider calling for help is currently standing right in front of me.
The wind picks up, and I pull the sweater down to cover more of me. Jason barely looks up from where he’s frowning and texting, but he takes a step over, effectively blocking the wind with his own body.
The action is sweet and warms me just as much as his body blocking the wind does.
“We can Uber?” I suggest. “Though I’m not sure where we’d set our location. We can’t really give directions to the middle of nowhere.”
Jason shakes his head, still texting. “No, I’ve got someone. He says he’s on his way.”
“Your other brother?”
“Aiden? Oh no, I wouldn’t ask him,” he says. “I’m not telling him shit about any of this. Plus, he’s not in town.”
“Would he get mad?” I ask. If he’s the one who taught Jason to drag race before he even had a license, I can’t picture him being genuinely mad about this, especially if Jason explains the situation.
