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LibraryofCongressCataloging-in-PublicationData
Names:Jimenez,Abby,author.
Title:Thehappyeverafterplaylist/AbbyJimenez.
Identifiers:LCCN2019026595|ISBN9781538715642(tradepaperback)|ISBN9781538715635(ebook)
Subjects:GSAFD:Lovestories.
Classification:LCCPS3610.I47H372020|DDC813/.6—dc23
LCrecordavailableathttps://lccn.loc.gov/2019026595
ISBN:978-1-5387-1564-2(tradepaperback),978-1-5387-1563-5(ebook)
E3020200227-DA-NF-ORITableofContents
Cover
TitlePage
Copyright
AlsobyAbbyJimenez
Dedication
Chapter1:Sloan
Chapter2:Sloan
Chapter3:Jason
Chapter4:Sloan
Chapter5:Jason
Chapter6:Sloan
Chapter7:Jason
Chapter8:Sloan
Chapter9:Sloan
Chapter10:Jason
Chapter11:Sloan
Chapter12:Jason
Chapter13:Jason
Chapter14:Sloan
Chapter15:Jason
Chapter16:Sloan
Chapter17:Jason
Chapter18:Sloan
Chapter19:Jason
Chapter20:Jason
Chapter21:Sloan
Chapter22:Jason
Chapter23:Sloan
Chapter24:Jason
Chapter25:Sloan
Chapter26:Jason
Chapter27:Jason
Chapter28:Sloan
Chapter29:Jason
Chapter30:Sloan
Chapter31:Jason
Chapter32:Sloan
Chapter33:Jason
Chapter34:Sloan
Chapter35:Sloan
Chapter36:Jason
Chapter37:Sloan
Chapter38:Jason
Chapter39:Sloan
Chapter40:Jason
Chapter41:Sloan
Chapter42:Sloan
Chapter43:Jason
Chapter44:Jason
Chapter45:Sloan
Epilogue:Sloan
ANOTEFROMTHEAUTHOR
?THEHAPPYEVERAFTERPLAYLIST
Acknowledgments
DiscoverMoreAbbyJimenez
ACCLAIMFORABBYJIMENEZANDTHEFRIENDZONE
AbouttheAuthor
Navigation
TableofContents
AlsobyAbbyJimenez
TheFriendZoneThisbookisdedicatedtomyhusbandandkids.
Thankyouforbeingmyhappyeverafter.Explorebookgiveaways,sneakpeeks,deals,andmore.
Tapheretolearnmore
Chapter1
Sloan
Playlist:?IntheMourning|Paramore
Doyouwantmetomeetyouatthecemetery,Sloan?”
Kristenwasworriedaboutme.
Ishookmyheadatmycar’scenterconsole,wheremyphonesatonspeaker.“I’mfine.I’mgoingtothefarmers’marketafterward,”Isaid,hopingthatwouldplacateher.
Mycaridledattheredlightnexttoasidewalklinedwithworn-outbusinessesandthirsty,drought-resistantoaksthatlookedlikethelackofrainhadfinallybrokentheirspirit.Ibakedintheblazingsun.MyopensunroofhadbrokenoverEasterweekendafewweeksagoandI’dneverfixedit,partofmytime-honoredtraditionofnotrepairingthingsinmycrappycar.
“Thefarmers’market?Areyougoingtocook?”Kristen’svoicelitupwithhope.
“No.Asaladmaybe,”Isaidasthelightturnedgreen.Ididn’tcookanymore.Everyoneknewthat.
Ididn’tdoalotofthingsanymore.
“Oh.Well,doyouwantmetocomeoverlater?”sheasked.“I’llbringcookiedoughandliquor.”
“No.I’llbe—OhmyGod!”Afurry,copper-coloredblurdartedintotheroad,andIslammedonthebrakes.Myphonebecameaprojectileintothedashandmypursedumpedoverthepassengerseat,spillingtamponsandsingle-serveflavoredcreamers.
“Sloan!Whathappened?”
Iclutchedthewheel,myheartpounding.“Kristen,Igottago.I…IthinkIjustkilledadog.”IhittheEndCallbuttonandunbuckledmyself,threwthecarinpark,andputatremblinghandonthedoortowaitforabreakintraffictogetout.
Pleaseletithavebeenquickandpainless.Please.
Thiswoulddestroyme.Thiswasjustwhatitwouldtake.Thelimpbodyofsomebody’spoorpetunderthetiresofmyshittycaronthisparticularcursedday,andwhatlittlejoyIhadleftwouldjustpopoutandfloatoff.
Ihatemylife.
Mythroattightened.IpromisedmyselfIwouldn’tcrytoday.Ipromised…
Barking.
Afloppy-eareddogheadpoppedupovermybumper,sniffingtheair.Ibarelyhadtimetoprocessthatthisanimalwasstillalivebeforeitleaptupontothehood.Heyappedatmethroughtheglassandthengrabbedmywindshieldwiperandstartedtuggingonit.
“Whatthe…”Itiltedmyhead,actuallylaughingalittle.Themusclesinvolvedfeltweakfromdisuse,andforaheartbeat,justaflickerofamoment,Iforgotwhattodaywas.
IforgotIwasonmywaytovisitagrave.
Mycellphonepingedwithaquicksuccessionoftexts.ProbablyKristen,losinghershit.
ThiswaswhyInevergotupthisearly.Nothingbutmayhem.WasthiswhatwentoninCanogaParkat9:00a.m.onaFriday?Dogsrunningallwilly-nillyinthestreets?
Ahornblaredandamiddlefingershotupfromapassingconvertible.Mycarsatparkedintheroadwithadogonthehood.
Ileaptintoactiontostageamid-streetrescue.Ididn’twanthimtoboltandgethitintheroad.Iwaitedagainforapauseinthecarswhilethedogcrouchedonhishaunchesandbarkedatmethroughtheglass.Iwasshakingmyheadathimwhenhebackedup,gavemeonemoresmilingheadcock,scaledmywindshield,anddovethroughmysunroof
Helandedontopofmeinawallopofflyingfurandlegs.Theairwaspushedfrommylungsinanoomphasafootslidrightdownmytanktopintomycleavage,stickingthelandingandscratchingmefromcollarbonetobellybutton.Thenhewasonme,pawsonmyshoulders,lickingmyfaceandwhininglikewe’dgrownuptogetherandI’djustgottenhomefromcollege.
IscreamedlikeIwasbeingeatenalive.
Iwrestledhimoffmeintothepassengerseat,gaspinganddisheveled,dogdroolonmyface,andwhenmycellphonerangIgrabbedforitreflexively.
“Sloan,areyouokay?”KristenaskedbeforeIevengotthephonetomyear.
“Adogjustjumpedthroughmysunroof!”
“What?”
“Yeah.”Iwipedmycheekwiththebottomofmytanktop.“It’s…it’sinmyfrontseat.”
Thedogsmiledatme.Heactuallygrinnedashistailwhackedbackandforth.Thenheloweredhisheadandmadeasinglecackingnoise.Iwatchedinhorrorashehackedupaslimyballofgrassrightintomydrinkholderovermyuntouchedlatte.
Aaaaandpolicelightsfiredupinmyrearview.
“Youhavegottobekiddingme,”Ibreathed,lookingbackandforthbetweenthebarf,thedog,andthelightsinmymirror.
Istartedtogiggle.Itwasmystressresponse.Thatandatwitchingeyelid.Bothofwhichmademelookinsane.
Thiscopwasinforashow.
“Kristen,Ineedtocallyouback.I’mgettingpulledover.”Ilaughed.
“Wait,what?”
“Yeah.Iknow.I’mparkedinthemiddleofthestreetandnowthecopsarehere.”
Ihungupandthepolicecarmadeanimpatientsirenwhoopbehindme.IcrawledalonguntilIcouldpullintoaminimall.Ilookeddown,fixingmytanktopandshakingmyhead,alternatingbetweengrumblingtomyselfaboutirresponsibledogownersandgigglinglikealunatic.
IconsideredwhetherIlookedcuteenoughtogetoutofaticket.
Allevidencepointedtono
Therewasatime,inanotheruniverse,whenthisfacehadwonbeautypageants.NowIlookedlikeI’dbeeninafightwitharaccoonoverapizzacrust—andlost.
Scratchesstreakedmyarmsfromthedog’snails,andIwascoveredinenoughorangefurtomakeapuppy.Myblondhairwaspulledupinamessybunthathadbeenhalfyankedlooseinthemelee,andmyyogapantsandpaint-stainedtanktopweren’tdoingmeanyfavors.Mybarefacelookedpaleandtired.
I’dlookedtiredfortwoyears.
“We’llhavetoridethisoneoutonpersonalityalone,”Imumbledtothedog.Hesmiledwiththatlolled-outtongue,andIgavehimareproachfullook.“Yourparentshavealotofexplainingtodo.”
Irolledmywindowdownandhandedovermylicenseandregistrationtothecopbeforeheaskedforit.
“Thatwasquitethescenebackthere,Miss”—theofficerglanceddownatmyinformation—“SloanMonroe.It’sillegaltoobstructtraffic,”hesaid,histonebored.
“Officer,thiswasn’tmyfault.Thisdogboltedintothestreetandthenhejustjumpedthroughmysunroof.”
Icouldseemyreflectioninhisaviatorsunglasses.MyeyelidtwitchedandIsqueezeditshut,squintingupathimwithoneeye.God,Ilookednuts.
“Thisisn’tmyfirstrodeo,younglady.Findsomethingthatdoesn’trequireyoutoblocktrafficforyournextYouTubevideoandjustbegladyou’reonlygettinganobstructionticketandnotoneforlettinganunleashedanimalrunaround.”
“Wait.Youthinkhe’smine?”Ipluckedalongpieceoffurfrommymouth.“Igetthatnothingsaysdogownershipmorethanonedivingthroughthetopofyourcar,butI’veneverseenthisguybeforeinmylife.”ThenIlookeddownandstartedtogiggle.ThedoghadhisheadonmylapdoinganOscar-worthyperformanceofbeing-my-dog.Helookedupatmewith“Hi,Mommy”eyes
Isnortedanddescendedintomaniclaughteragain,puttingafingertomytwitchingeyelid.
Today.Ofalldays,thishappenstoday
Thecopstaredatmeforasolidhalfaminute,soakinginallmycrazy.I’msurethedogbarfinthecupholderdidn’thelp.Notthatitdidmuchtotakeawayfromtheoriginalambianceofmydilapidatedcar.Ihadn’twasheditintwoyears.Still,hemusthaveseensomethinghebelievedonmyfacebecauseheentertainedmystoryforamoment.
“Okay.Well,I’lljustputacallintoanimalcontrol.”Heleanedtowardtheradiomiconhisshoulder.“Getthisdangerousstrayoffyourhands.”
Isoberedinasecond,droppingmyfingerfrommyeye.“No!Youcan’tsendhimtotheshelter!”
Hishandfrozeonthemic,andhearchedaneyebrow.“Becausethisisyourdog?”
“No,becausehe’dbeterrified.Haven’tyouseenthoseASPCAcommercials?Withthesaddogsincages?AndtheSarahMcLachlansong?”
Thecoplaughedthewholewaybacktohissquadcartowritemeaticket.
WhenthedogandIgothome,Istuckmytickettothefridgewiththeflip-flopmagnetBrandonandIhadpickedupinMaui.Boththeticketandthemagnetmadethelumpriseinmythroat,butthedogpushedhisheadundermyhandandIsomehowmuscleddowntheurgetosob.Itwas10:00a.m.onTheDay,andI’dsofarkeptmyvownottougly-cry.
Yayme.
IcalledKristen,whowasprobablyfreakingoutandgatheringasearchpartysinceIhadn’tansweredherlastfivecalls.Shepickeduponthefirstring.“Whatthehellhappened?Areyouokay?”
“Yes,I’mokay.Ihavethedog.He’satmyhouse.Igotaticketforstoppinginthemiddleofthestreet.”
“Areyoufuckingserious?”
“Unfortunately,Iam,”Isaidtiredly.
Shemadeatskingnoise.“Youdidn’tpushyourboobsup,didyou?Nexttimeuseyourboobs.”
Ipulledmytanktopoutandrolledmyeyesatthescratchesbetweenmybreasts.“IthinkI’dratherhavetheticketandwhat’sleftofmydignity,thankyouverymuch.”
Igrabbedablueplasticbowlfromthecabinet,filleditfromthetap,andwatchedasthedogdranklikehehadn’thadwaterindays.Hepushedthebowlacrossthetileofmydatedkitchen,sloshingashewent,andIpinchedmytemples
Ugh,todaysucks.
Thiswaswaytoomuchexcitementforme.MostdaysIdidn’tevenleavethehouse.ThiswaswhyIdidn’tleavethehouse.Toomanypeopleandthings.Iwantedtohissatthesunandgobacktosleep.
“I’mgonnacallthenumberonhiscollar.Letmecallyouback.”
Ihungupandlookedathistag.Weirdareacode.Tucker,AGoodBoy.
“Agoodboy,huh?That’sdebatable.Well,Tucker,let’sseewhatexcuseyourpeoplehaveforlettingyourunaroundintraffic,”ImutteredasIpunchedthenumberintomycellphone.
Thecallwentrighttovoicemailandadeepmalevoicesaid,“Jason.Leaveamessage.”
Ileftmycontactinformation,hungup,andshookmyheadatthedogsloshingwaterallovermykitchenfloor.“You’reprobablyhungrytoo.Well,Idon’thaveanydogfood,soweneedtogotoPetSmart.”
Imighthaveahalf-eatenStarbuckslemonloafinthecar,butitwasprobablypetrified.
Ididn’thavealeash,soImadeonefromthebeltofmyblackVictoria’sSecretrobe,theoneBrandonhadgivenmetheChristmasbeforehisaccident.Tuckerimmediatelybegantognawthroughit.
Justperfect.
WhenwegottoPetSmart,Itookhimtothestorevettoseeifhewasmicrochipped.Hewas,butthenumberonfilewasthesameastheoneonhistag.Noaddress.
Thiswasseriouslysoinconvenient.Ikeptcheckingmycellphonetomakesurethevolumewasup.
Nocallsortexts.
Iwascontemplatingmylimitedoptionswhen,likethecherryontopofthesundae,Tuckerpeedonthefloorofthevet’soffice.
Thevetlookedunfazed.Shepulledpapertowelsfromadispenserwithoutlookingupfromherchartandhandedthemtome.Tuckerretreatedunderachairandlookedonwithsorrypuppydogeyes.
“Hewaseatinggrasstoo.”Icrouchedanddroppedtowelsonthemess.“Ithinkhehasastomachache.”
“Hemighthaveabladderinfection.Weshouldtesttheurine.”
Iwhirledonherfrommypeepuddle.“Wait,me?Youwantmetopayforthistest?Seriously?Thisisn’tevenmydog.”
Sheshruggedoverherclipboard.“Well,justbeawarethatifhehasaninfectionhewon’tbeabletoholdhisurine.Tomorrow’stheweekend,soit’llcostmoretobringhiminthenifhedoesn’tgetpickedup.Plushe’slikelyinpain.Ifyoucan’taffordit,youcouldalwaystakehimtotheHumaneSociety.Theymighttreathimthere.”
Theshelterwasout.Andthepainthingbuggedme.WithmyluckIwouldendupwithhimuntiltomorrowandI’dbebackherepayingdouble,beggingthemtomakethepeeingstop.Iputafingertomytwitchingeyelid.“Fine.Testhim.Maybetheownerwillpaymeback?”
God,Iwasalreadytiredtomorrow,justfromtoday.
Mycellphonepinged,andIlookedatitwearily.
Kristen:Didthecophavethatporn-stachetheyalwayshave?
Ping.
Kristen:Youshouldhavecried.Machinegunsobbingalwaysgetsmeoutoftickets.Justsayin’.
Isnorted.Shewastryingtomakemesmile.Sheandherhusband,Josh,wereonSloanwatchtoday.Highalert,codered.KeepinganeyeonmeincaseIflippedoutorbrokedown.
Itwasprobablyagoodidea.
Twohundreddollarsandoneexpensivebladderinfectionlater,weleftwithourdogantibiotics.OntopofTucker’svetbill,Iboughtaleashandasmallbagofdogfood.Ineededenoughsuppliestoatleastgetmethroughtomorrowincasethisendedupbeingasleepover.Ialsograbbedachewboneandaballtokeephimbusy.Ididn’tneedthisTasmaniandevildestroyingmyhouse.
Iwasn’tfamiliarwithhisbreed.Iforgottoaskthevet.Helookedsortoflikeasmallgoldenretriever.Itwouldn’tsurprisemeifheturnedouttobehalfhoneybadger.Hewasalittlewild.Whatdogjumpsthroughasunroof?
Whateverhewas,hewasnotwhatIwassupposedtobedoingtoday.
TodayIwassupposedtobewithBrandon.
SettingabottleofWoodfordReserveagainsthisheadstone.Sittingonablanketonthegrassnexttowherewelaidhimtorest,tellinghimhowmuchImissedhim,howtheworldwasworseforhimnotbeinginit,howhollowIwasanditwasn’tgettingbetterwithtimeliketheysaiditwould.
Aprileighthwasthetwo-yearanniversaryofhisaccident.Notthedateofhisdeath—helivedamonthbeforehesuccumbedtohisinjuries—butthedateofthecrash.Thatwasreallythedayhislifewasover.Mylifewasover.Heneverwokeup.Sotodaycouldneverjustbesomeday.
Theyearheldalotofdayslikethatforme.ThedayinDecemberwhenhe’dproposed.Hisbirthday.Mybirthday.Holidays,thedateoftheweddingthatneverhappened.Infact,mostofthecalendarwasaminefieldofharddays.Onewouldcrest,I’dlivethroughit,andthenanotheronewouldrolltowardmeintheconstantebbandswellthatwastheyear.
Anotheryearwithouthim
SoIhadplannedtodistractmyselftoday.Havemyvisittothecemeteryandthenbeproductive.Getsomepaintingsdone.Eatsomethinghealthy.I’dcommittedtonotsleepingthroughthedaylikelastyear.I’dpromisedmyselfIwouldignorethatthemonthofAprilsmelledlikeahospitaltomenowandremindedmeoffixedpupilsandbeepingmachineswithtemposthatneverchanged.
Iglancedatmyphoneagain.
Nothing.Chapter2
Sloan
?affection|BetweenFriends
Tendays.I’dhadTuckerfortenwonderful,fur-on-my-bedspread,wet-kisses-in-the-morning,tail-waggingdays.
IknockedonthedoorofKristen’shouse,grinningfromeartoear.Whensheopenedit,shestared.“Youfuckingdidit.”
“ItoldyouIwould.”Ibeamed,edgingpastherintothehouse,notwaitingtobeinvitedin.Tuckerandherlittledog,StuntmanMike,circledeachother,tailswagging,nosestobutts.
Sheclosedthefrontdoorbehindme.“Youwalkedhere?That’slikesevenmiles,youcrazybitch.”
“Yeah,Iknow,”Isaid.Myreemergenceintodaylighthadbeenshockingfriendsandfamilyalikelately.“Ihavetouseyourbathroom.IsOliverawake?”
“No,he’sdownforhisnap.”Shefollowedmedownthehall.“God,you’rereallylovingthisdogthing,huh?Oh,whichremindsme,”shesaid,“Imadehimsomething.”ShedisappearedandcamebackasecondlaterholdingupadogteethatreadIJUMPEDONSLOANTHROUGHASUNROOFANDALLIGOTWASTHIST-SHIRT
Isnorted.Kristenrananonlinebusinessfromherhousethatsoldmerchandisefordogs.
Iwentintothebathroom,andshetuckedtheshirtunderherarmandleanedonthedoorframe.Joshwasn’thome,sowefellimmediatelybackintoouroldroommatehabitofneverclosingdoorsbetweenus.
“He’sincredible.I’veneverseenananimalsowelltrained,”Isaid.“Somebodymusthavereallyspenttimeworkingwithhim.”Iwashedmyhandsandlookedatmyflushedfaceinthemirror,tuckingsomeflyawayhairsbehindmyear.
“StillnocallbackfromthatJasonguy?”
Ihadn’theardawordfromTucker’sowner.Tuckerhadspentthefirsttwodayspeeinginmyhousedespitehisexpensiveantibiotics,andI’dspenttwodaystakinghimoutsideasmuchashumanlypossibletosavemycarpets.
Itwasmiraculoushowmotivatingapuddleofdogpeeonyourfloorscouldbe.Seriously.Betterthanapersonaltrainer.MyFitbithadneverseensomuchaction.
I,ofcourse,gotnopaintingdoneatallwhileIwaswalkinghim.ButthisbodyhadatanforthefirsttimeinlongerthanIcouldremember,andIhadtoadmitthattheexercisefeltgood.Soevenafterhisinfectionwasgone,wekeptupthewalks.
TodayIfeltparticularlyambitious,soIdecidedtowalktoKristen’shousetoseeherandthebaby.IfiguredifIgottired,wecouldjustcallanUber.Butwemadeit,andthevictorywasglorious.
“NotapeepfromJason,”Isaid.
I’dputupposterswithTucker’spictureattheintersectionwhereIfoundhim,andI’dlistedhimonafewmissing-petwebsites.I’devenregisteredhimasafounddogattheHumaneSociety.AndeverydayIleftamessageforJason.IwasbeginningtothinkTuckerhadbeenofficiallyabandoned.
“Soooo,Isavedyourdogfromcertaindeathandhethankedmebyjumpingonmethroughmysunrooflikeagrenade.Givemeacalltoarrangeforapickup.Ihavesomanyquestions.”
“Hi,Jason.Sloanagain.Yourdogispeeingallovermyhousefromthebladderinfectionhegotfromnotbeingletout.Itwouldbegreatifyoucametogethimsohecanpeealloveryourhouseinstead.Thanks.”
“SloanandTuckerhere.WhileTucker’sloveofexpensivefoodbasicallymakeshimmytwinseparatedatbirth,Ican’taffordtokeepfeedinghim.Thinkyoumightbeabletocallmeback?”
IfollowedKristenintothekitchenandgaveTuckerabowlofwaterwithicecubesinit.ThenIsatatthegranitecounter,andsheslidaglassoficedteaovertome.“CanIjustsayhowhappyIamthatyou’regettingout?”
Mymooddeflatedinaninstant,andhersteadybrowneyesstudiedme.
“Kristen?Doyouthinkit’sweirdTuckershowedupontheanniversaryoftheaccident?Imean,itis,right?”
Shewaitedformetocontinue,stirringhericearoundherglass.
“Tuckerliterallyfellintomylap.Anddoyouknowwhatkindofdogheis?ANovaScotiaducktollingretriever.”Itickedthelongnameoffwithafive-fingertaponthecountertop.“Ahuntingdog,Kristen.Ducks.”
Kristenknewbetterthananyonethesignificanceofthat.DuckhuntinghadbeenBrandon’sfavoritesport.He’dflyouttoSouthDakotaeveryyearforitwithJosh.
“WhatifBrandonsenthimtome?”Isaid,alumpboltingintomythroat.
Shegavemeasympatheticsmile.“Well,IdothinkBrandonwouldn’thavewantedyoutobethisunhappy,”shesaidgently.“Twoyearsisalongfuckingtimetobethissad,Sloan.”
Inoddedandwipedmyfacewiththetopofmyshirt.Istaredblearyeyedatthehighchairpushedupagainstthekitchentable.Kristen’slifewasapainfulreminderofwhatmineshouldhavebeen.IfBrandonhadlivedandwe’dbeenmarriedlikeweplanned,I’dprobablyhaveababyofmyown,takinghimonplaydateswithKristenandJosh’sone-year-oldson.
Kristenhadbeenmybestfriendsincesixthgrade.Ourworldshadbeenonthesametrajectorysincejuniorhigh.We’ddoneeverythingtogether.Ourlives’milestoneshadalwayslinedupaccordingly.
BrandonandJoshhadbeenbestfriendstoo.I’dpicturedcouplestripsandhavingbabiestogether.Buyinghousesnextdoortoeachother.AndnowKristenhadcontinuedwithoutme.Herlifehadkeptitspace,andminehadcrashedandburnedwhenBrandon’smotorcycledidthesame.Iwasstuckinsomesortofarresteddevelopment,trappedinacontinuousloopIcouldn’tpullmyselfoutof.
Untilnow.
Somethinghadshiftedinme.MaybeitwastheroutinethatTuckermademestickto,orthewalks,orthesun.MaybeitwasthethoughtthatthisdogwassomehowagiftfromthemanI’dlost,asigntotry.I’dalwaysbelievedinsigns.Itjustseemedtoounlikelytobearandomthing.Ofallthecarsinalltheworld,Tuckerraninfrontofmine.Itwaslikehechoseme.
Ipulledoutmycellphone.“Thatremindsme,it’stimeformycalltoJason.”
Hissteadyvoicehadbecomeapartofmydailyroutine.Butthistimewhenvoicemailpickedup,aroboticfemaleinformedmethatthemailboxwasfull.
Asign?
IlookedatKristen,whowatchedmewordlessly.
Thatwasit.Mymindwasmadeup.IthumbedthroughmyphoneandfoundapictureofTuckerandmethatI’dtakenafewdaysearlier.IattachedittoamessagetoJasonandsentitoff.
“You’reright.Brandonwouldwantmetobehappy.AndthatJasonguy,ifheevershowsup?Hecangotohell.”Chapter3
Jason
?MiddleofNowhere|HotHotHeat
Theplanetaxiedtowardourgatetotheclinkofseatbeltscomingundone.Theairstoppedcomingthroughthetinyventsaboveus,andIgotinstantlyhot.IpeeledoffmysweatshirtandpluckedatthefrontofmyblackT-shirt.
Kathyleanedinandbouncedhereyebrows.“Yousmellnice,”shesaidinherthickAustralianaccent.Thenshefeltupmyarm.“Ooh!Linea,copafeelofhisarmonyourside,he’ssomuscly.”
Lineareachedacrossmetohitherfriendwitharolled-upmagazine.“Themangivesuphisfirst-classseatforthatmilitaryblokeandtothankhimyouputyourmittsalloverhim.Youshouldbe—Oh!Heismuscly!”
Ichuckled.I’dbeenthemeatinaKathy-and-LineasandwichforthelastfourhoursonmyflightfromNewZealandtoAustralia.Beingjammedintoacenterseathadbeenwellworththesacrifice.Thesetwostrangerswerefuckinghilarious.I’dbeenhighlyentertainedthewholetrip.Betterthanacomplimentarybourbonandawarmwashcloth.
Whenwebegantodeplane,Istoodintheaisletopulldowntheladies’carry-ons.
“Jason,”Kathysaid,infrontofme,waitingforherbag.“Ihaveadaughterwho’ssingle.She’sanurse.She’dlovethoseblueeyes.Yainterested?”
“Ifshe’shalfasgorgeousasyou,she’soutofmyleague.”Iextendedthehandleonherluggageandhandedittoherwithawink.
Shegrinnedupatme.“Cheekybastard.Goodluckwitheverything.”Sheturnedandstartedwalking.“Thanksfortheautograph.I’mgettin’onTwittertokeeptabsonyou,”shesaidoverhershoulder,followingLineaoutoftheplane
IsmiledafterherasIgrabbedmybackpackfromtheoverheadandsteppedbackintomyemptyrowtodigoutmyphone.IthadbeendeadwhenIboarded.Idisconnecteditfromitsportablechargerandpowereditonforthefirsttimeintwoweeks.Itburstintoavibratingsymphonyofchimesandpings.
Backtotherealworld.
Fifteendaysofbackpacking.IdreadedthecrapI’dhavetosiftthroughafterbeingoutofcontactforsolong.I’dprobablyhaveahundredmessagesfrommyagent,Ernie,alone.
IpunchedinmypinandstartedwithmyvoicemailsasIshoulderedmybag.Mymailboxwasfull.Iwasfourmessagesinandwaitingforabreakinthelineintheaisletogetofftheplanewhenanunfamiliarfemalevoicecamethroughthephone.
“Uh,hi.I’vegotTuckerhere?HewasrunningaroundlooseinthemiddleofthestreetonTopangaCanyonBoulevard?Myname’sSloan.Mynumberis818-555-7629.Letmeknowwhenyouwanttocomegethim.”
Shit.
Iswungmybackpackinfrontofmetodigforapen.Iwrotethenumberdownonmyhandanddialedit,doingthemathquicklyinmyhead.Itwas11:00a.m.inMelbourne.Sixp.m.inLosAngeles.
Comeon,comeon,comeon.
“Hello?”awomansaidafterthreerings.
“Hi,isthisSloan?Myname’sJason.Ithinkyouhavemydog.Didsomeonecomegethim?”
Therewassilenceontheotherendforamoment,andIthoughtmaybeI’dlostthecall.Ishuffledoutofmyrowintotheaisleandpressedfortheexitinthecrushofotherpassengers,hopingI’dgetabettersignaloutsidetheplane.“Hello?”Isaidagain.
“Yeah,Iheardyou.”Hervoicesoundededgy.“Istillhavehim.”
Iflexedmyjaw.Goddamnit.FuckingMonique.
IstoppedinthestuffyJetwayandmovedtothewall,holdingthephonewithmyshoulder.Ihoveredthepenovermyhand.“Givemeyouraddress.I’llsendsomeonetopickhimup.”
“No.”
Huh?“What?”
“No,”shesaidagain.
“Whatdoyoumean,no?No,youwon’tletmepickhimup?”
“Youknow,youhavealotofnerve.It’sbeenalmosttwoweeks,andnowyoudecideyouwantyourdog?”
Twoweeks?Tuckerhadbeenlostfortwofuckingweeks?
“I’vebeenoutoftown.Ididn’thavecellservice.Ihadnoideahewasmissing.Ihavenoproblempayingforareward.Please,justgivemeyouraddressandI’ll—”
“No.He’snotyourdoganymore.Ifhe’dbeenattheshelter,hisholdwouldbeupandhe’deitherhavebeenadoptedoreuthanized.Iputupsigns,ranhismicrochip,puthimonline,Ileftyouadozenvoicemails.Ididmyduediligence.Youabandonedhim.SoasfarasI’mconcerned,he’smydognow.”
Shehunguponme.
Istaredatmyphoneinshock.IhitSendonthenumberagainanditwentstraighttovoicemail.
Cursing,IcalledMonique.
“YoulostTucker?”Igrowled,notbotheringtolowermyvoiceforthepassengersstilldeplaning.
“Well,hellotoyoutoo,Jason.”
Theclickofherheelscamethroughtheline.Icouldalmostseeher,holdingherfuckingskinnylattewiththosehugesunglassesshealwayswore,shoppingbagsonherarmswhileshewasn’tlookingformydog.
“Tucker’sbeenlostfortwoweeks?Whydidn’tyoulookforhim?Orputthroughanemergencycalltome?Whatthefuck,Monique?You’resupposedtobetakingcareofhim!”
“Iwork,Jason.AndIdidlook.Sortof.”
ThenIheardawhooshthatsoundedlikeasubwaycar.“Wait.”Disbeliefcoursedthroughmyveins.“Whereareyou?”
Apregnantpause.
“NewYork,”shesaidquietly.
“HowlonghaveyoubeeninNewYork?”
Silenceagain.
“Twoweeks.”
Iclutchedthephonewithwhiteknuckles.“Wearedone.Fuckingdone,”Ihissed.
“Jason,whenGivenchycalls,youdon’ttellthemthatyoucan’tbeintheirVogueshootbecauseyouhavetolookforyourfuckbuddy’sdog.I’msorry,okay?Don’t—”
Ihungup.I’dheardenough.Shemightaswellhavelostmychildandthenrunofftodoadamnphotoshoot.Itwasthatunforgivable.
ItriedSloan’snumberagain.Voicemail.
Atalossforwhatelsetodo,Istoodbythegategoingthroughtherestofmymessagesasrainpoundedonthefloor-to-ceilingwindowsoverlookingthetarmac.
ThisSloanwomanhadn’tbeenkidding.Shereallyhadtriedtoreachme.Everydayforoveraweekshe’dleftmeavoicemailaboutTucker.IgotmoreandmorepissedoffasthemessagesdetailedMonique’scompleteandutterdisregardformydog.
He’dbeeninthemiddleofthestreet.
He’dhadabladderinfectionfromnotbeingletout.
Thisladyhadpostedallover,placesMoniquecouldhaveeasilyseenthesignshadshebotheredtostickaroundtolook.
He’ddivedintothiswoman’ssunroof.Whatthehellwasthatabout?
Irubbedmytemples.Tuckerhatedkennels.Moniquehadbeengoodenoughwithhim,atleastinfrontofme,andIhadn’thadanyreservationsaboutitatthetime.Shetoldmeshe’dtakehimonherruns.
Stupid,stupid.
IshouldhaveflownhimtoMinnesotaandlefthimwithmyfamily.Ifuckedup.Itwouldhavebeenatwo-thousand-milesidetrip,butatleastTuckerwouldhavebeensafe.
Irakedmyhanddownmyfaceandscratchedmybeard,tiredly.Fuck,nowwhatwasIgoingtodo?Thisladystolemydamndog.
WhenIfinishedmyvoicemails,Ithumbedthroughmytextmessagesandsawonefromthe818numberI’dwrittendownonmyhand.IclickeditandapictureofTuckerpoppedup.Itwasgreatnotknowingyou.
ThephotoshowedawomanwithherarmwrappedaroundTucker’schest.Icouldn’tseeherface.ThetopofTucker’sheadcoveredhermouth.Sheworeblacksunglassesandherhairwastuckedunderahat.Herarmwascoveredintattoosfromshouldertoelbow.Itiltedmyheadandstudiedthem,zoominginonmyphone.ImadeoutthenameBrandononherarm.Thenthescreenshiftedtoanincomingcallnotification.The818number.Iscrambledtoanswerit.“Hello?”
“Ifyouloveyourdog,proveit.”
“What?”
“I’mnotfeelingthegreatestaboutkeepingyourdogifyoureallydolovehim.Soifyoudo,proveit.”
Iblinked.“Okay.AndhowwouldyousuggestIdothat?”
“He’syourdog,isn’the?Proofthatyoulovehimshouldbereadilyavailable.”
Mymindraced.
“Allright,holdon,”Isaid,gettinganidea.Iscrolledthroughthephotosonmyphoneandselectedseveral:Tuckerandmeatthebeach,Tuckerandmeonabikeride.ThenItookascreenshotofmywallpaper,Tucker,sittingbehindallmyicons.Isentthephotosthrough.“There.Checkyourmessages.”
Herphonemadeashufflingnoise.ShewentquietforwhatIknewwaslongerthanittooktoseethemall.
“Look,”Isaidintothesilence,hopingshecouldhearme,“he’smybestfriend.HecamewithmewhenImovedtoLAfromMinnesota.IlefthimwithsomeoneIthoughtIcouldtrust.Ilovemydog.Iwantmydogback.Please.”
ShewasquietforsolongthatagainIthoughtthecallhadbeendropped.
“Okay,”shewhispered.
Ibreathedasighofrelief.“Great—thankyou.AndI’llreimburseyouforyourtimeandthevetbills—”
“Andmyticket.”
“Yourticket?”
“IgotaticketforparkinginthemiddleofTopangaCanyonBoulevardwhenIstoppedtogethimintothecar.”
Imovedthephoneawayfrommymouthandbreathedasighoffrustration.NotatSloan,atMoniqueandherineptitude.
“Okay,yeah,noproblem.Look,I’mreallygratefulforeverythingyou’vedoneforhim.IfyoucanjustgivemeafewhourstofindakenneltotakehimI’ll—”
“Akennel?Why?”
“I’minAustraliafortwomoreweeksforwork.”
“Well,whowaswatchinghimwhileyouweregone?”
“Somebodywhowillneverwatchhimagain,”Isaiddryly.Icollectedmybackpackandwenttofollowthesignstowardcustoms.
“Well,Icankeephimuntilyoucomeback.Iworkfromhome.It’snoproblem.”
Ithoughtaboutherofferforamoment.Mymindwenttothepictureshe’dsentofherandTuckerandthevoicemailsabouttripstothevetandwalkshewasgoingon.Sheseemedtoreallycareabouthim.Imean,shit,she’dbeenreadytokeephim.Andshe’dalreadyhadhimfortwoweeks.Heknewher.Itwouldbebetterthanakennel.Andtherereallywasnooneelse.BesidesMoniqueandErnie,whowasn’tadogperson,Ididn’tknowanyoneelseinLAwellenoughtoask.
“Youwouldn’tmind?”Iasked,steppingontoamovingwalkway.
“No.Ilovehim.”
Somethingsadinhervoicemademesmileintothephone.NotthatIwasrevelinginherunhappiness—Iwasn’tinsensitivetothefactthatjustahalfanhourearliershe’dthoughtTuckerwashers,andnowshehadtogivehimup.Butitwasnicetohearthatthepersonwatchinghimactuallygaveashitabouthim.
“Thatwouldbegreat.Ihatetheideaofputtinghiminakennel.”
“He’dbemiserable,”sheagreed,soundingalittlemiserableherself.
“Hey,canIcallyouback?”I’dbeenonaplaneforfourhours.Ineededtofindarestroom.
WhenIcalledSloanbackonmywaytowardbaggageclaim,webothseemedtohavebenefitedfromthebreak.Hervoicesoundedalmostshynow.Ithoughtforasecondmaybesherecognizedmefrommyphotos.Ormaybeshejustfeltbadforbeingsopissedatme.EitherwayIwasglad.IfshewasgoingtowatchTuckerforme,weshouldatleastbefriendly.
Wetalkeddog-sittingfeesforafewminutes.ThenImovedontootherlogistics.
“TextmeyouraddresssoIcansendyouacrate,”Isaid.
“Acrate?Why?”
“Hesleepsinhiscrateatnight.Ifhedoesn’thaveit,hetendstodestroythehouse,asI’msureyou’venoticed.”
“Hehasn’tdestroyedanythingexceptforthebeltofmyrobeonthefirstday.Andhesleepswithme,inmybed.”
Ilaughed.“Ifindithighlyunlikelythathe’snotchewingyourfurnituretoapulp.It’shisfavoritepastime.”
Chairlegs,thearmrestofmycouch,doorjambs—Tuckerdemolishedall
Ifoundbaggageclaimandwaitedwiththecrowdfrommyflightasthecarouselstartedgoingaround,empty.
“Hehasn’tchewedasinglethingsincethebelt,”shesaid.“He’saperfectangel.”
“Really?”Isaidincredulously.
Shesnorted.“Iwouldn’ttryandkeepadogwhowasdestroyingmyhouse.”
“Goodpoint.Well,I’mgladhe’sbeingagentleman,”Isaid,checkingthetimeandwatchingasthefirstluggagecamedowntheramp.Ihadrehearsalintwohours.
“Istillhavescratchesfromhimjumpingonmethroughthesunroof.Didyouteachhimthat,bytheway?”
“Uh,no.Didhereallydothat?”
“YouthinkI’dmakethatup?Holdon.”Therewasapause.“Okay,golook.Ijustsentyoumyticket.”
Apicturemessagecamethroughmyphone.ItwasaticketfromtheLAPDwithaflip-flopmagnetovertherecipient’sinformation.Theofficerhaddetailedtheentireevent,sunroofandall.
Ishookmyhead.“Unbelievable.He’sneverdoneanythinglikethatbefore.”Hemusthavebeenoutofhisdamnmind.“He’salittlehighenergy.”
“Hejustneedsexercise.”
He’dprobablygonestir-crazywithMonique.“Areyousureyoudon’twantthecrate?”
“Idefinitelydon’twantit.Hesleepswithmewhilehe’shere.That’sahardruleforme.AndI’mnotgivingyoumyaddresseither.Youcouldbeacreeper.”
Isnorted.“I’mnotacreeper.”
“Yeah,well,that’sexactlywhatacreeperwouldsay.”
Therewasasmileinthere.
“Howoldareyou?”Iasked,suddenlycurious.
Shescoffed.“Well,that’sunnecessary.”
“What?Measkingyourage?It’sthefirstthingI’daskadog-sitterinaninterview,”Ireasoned,thoughthatwasn’treallywhatdrovemyinterest.Ilikedhermessages.They’dbeenkindoffunny.
“Well,thatwouldbeillegal.Youcan’tasksomeonetheirageonajobinterview.”
Ismiled.“WhatcanIask?”
“Let’ssee,youcanaskwhatmybackgroundis.”
“AreyouinHR?Youseemawfullyknowledgeableaboutproperlyconductedinterviews.”
“See,that’saquestionyoucouldask.”
Witty.
“AndIthoughtIalreadyhadthejob,”shepointedout.
“Youdo.What?Ican’tknowalittleaboutwhomybestfriendissleepingwith?”
IheardhersnortandIgrinned.
“Yourbestfriendissleepingwithayoungladysmartenoughtoknowbetterthantotellastrangerwhereshelivesandhowoldsheis.AreyougoingtoaskmeifI’mhomealonenext?”
“Areyou?”
“Wow.You’redefinitelyacreeper.”
“I’vebeencalledworse.”
“I’llbet,”shesaid.Apause.“Ilivealone.”
“Okay.Anyotherpets?”
“Nope.Suchathoroughinterview.Ihaveafeelingthesequestionsweren’taskedthelasttimeyouselectedadog-sitter,”shesaidwryly.
Igrinned.“I’mtryingtolearnfrommymanymistakes.”
“Idon’thaveanyotherpets.ButIgrewupwithGermanshepherds.Youhavetoexerciseworkingdogs.Theybecomedestructiveifyoudon’tmakethemtired.Tucker’sabirdingdog.He’sbredforhighactivity.”
Iknewthis,ofcourse,butitimpressedmethatshedid.“Andsoyou’rekeepinghimbusy?”
Thesoundofrunningwaterandtheclinkofdishescamethroughthephone.ThenIheardhertalkingtoTuckerquietlyinthebackgroundandmysmilebroadened.Sheaskedhimifhewasagoodboyandifhewantedapuppysnack.Hebarked.
“Walkinghimfivemilesaday,”shesaid.“Mytanlooksgreat.”
“I’dlovetoseethat.Sendmeapicture.”
Itwasajoke—kindof.Ididwanttoseewhatshelookedlike.Iwascurious.
“Andnowyou’vegotalawsuitonyourhands.Sexuallyharassinganemployee.”Shetsked.“Youmustbeanightmareforyourhumanresourcesdepartment.”
“Nah,I’monlyapaininmyownass.”
“Ohyeah?Whatdoyoudo?”
Soshedidn’trecognizeme.Thatwasn’tunusual—itwasalsosomethingIwasworkingveryhardtochange.Myluggagecamearoundthecarousel.Myguitarcasesatafewbagsbehindit.“I’mamusician.”
“Oh,oneofthoseHollywoodtypes.Inthebiz,ontourorawayfilmingasoundtrackforanindiemovieoverseas.”
Shewasn’tfaroff.Jesus,wasIreallythatcliché?
“Somethinglikethat.Iamtouringwithagroup.Andthereisamovieinvolved.Butit’snotanindiefilm.”
Themoviewaskindofabigone,actually,butIdidn’tliketothrowthataround.EventhoughthatseemedtobetheLAthingtodo,name-droppingmademefeellikeanasshole.
Iliftedmyluggageandguitaroffthemovingbelt.Nowbothhandswereoccupied,andIhadtoholdmyphonetomyearwithmyshoulder.IneededtogetthroughcustomsandcatchanUbertomyhotel,whichmeantIshouldprobablyhangup.ButinsteadIwanderedovertothebenchjustinsidetheentrancetobaggageclaimandsatdown,settingmyguitarcaseontheseatnexttome.
“Hmm…”shesaid,soundingborednow.“Everyone’sinthebusinesshere.”
Shedidn’tpressmeformoreaboutthemovie.Sheseemeduninterested.Iwasalittlesurprised.AllMoniquehadcaredaboutwhenIfirstmetherwaswhoIwasandwhoIknew.Cometothinkofit,I’mnotsurethateverreallychanged.Itwasrefreshingtotalktosomeonewhodidn’tgiveashitwhatIcoulddofortheircareer.Frankly,Iwasalittlesickoftalkingaboutit.
Iswitchedthesubject.“Andwhatdoyoudo?”
“Nothinginteresting,”shesaidvaguely.
“HowdoyouknowIwon’tthinkit’sinteresting?Youworkfromhomeandyouhavethetimetowalkfivemilesadayandrescuestraydogs.I’dliketoknowwhatgivesyousuchaflexibleschedule.Youknow,togaugewhetherornotyourlifestyleisconducivetodog-sitting.”
ShemadeanoisethatIimaginedwentwithaneyeroll.“I’manartist.”
“Andhowisthatuninteresting?”
“Itjustis.WhatIpaintisuninteresting.”
“Thenwhypaintit?Can’tyoupaintwhatyouwant?”Iputmyankleovermykneeandleanedbackonthebench.
Therunningwatershutoffinthebackground,andshewentquietforamoment
“What’syourwebsite?”Iasked,feelingprettysureshewasn’tgoingtogiveittome,butfiguringIshouldgiveitashot.
“Idon’thaveawebsite.AndifIdid,Iwouldn’tgiveittoyou.”
Ismiled.“You’reconsistent.Ilikethatinadog-sitter.”ThenIlookedatmywatch.“Ineedtogetgoinghere.”
“Okay.Well,haveagoodtrip,Iguess.”
“Sloan?Thankyou.Ican’ttellyouhowmuchitmeanstomethatyourescuedTuckerandtooksuchgoodcareofhim.AndIreallyappreciateyouwatchinghimuntilIgetback.”
Shewasquietforamoment.“Thankyouforsayingthankyou,”shesaidfinally.
Mylipstwistedintoasidewayssmile.“We’llbeintouch.”Chapter4
Sloan
?oceaneyes|BillieEilish
IlookedatthepicturesofTuckerwithJason.
Again.
I’dbeenoglingthemsincehe’dsentthemtomeyesterday.ForallthecrapIgaveJason,itturnedoutIwasthecreeper.
Jasonwashot.No,hewasbeyondhot.Hewasbearded,thickbrownhair,sexysmile,blueeyeshot.Six-packabsonthebeachhot
Iwatchedalotofcrimeshows,andI’dgonefullforensicpsychologistonthescreenshotofhiscellphonehomepage.
ThetimeonhisphonewasAustralia’s,sohewasthere,likehe’dsaidhewas.
Themusicianthingseemedtrueenough.Hehadadisproportionateamountofmusicapps.NoTinderorotherhookupsites.TherewereUber,Twitter,andYouTube.Allthestandardsocialmedia.Tonsofnotifications,butthenhe’djustlanded,andhe’dsaidhehadbeenoutofcontactforafewweeks,sothatmadesenseandactuallygavehisstorycredibility.
Overall,noglaringredflagsthatscreamedpathologicalliarormassmurderer.AnditwasprettyadorablethatTuckerwashiswallpaperimage.
IputahandbetweenTucker’searsandtousledhisfur.“Whydidn’tyoutellmeyourdadwassohandsome?”Heleanedintomeandletmekisshishead.
TosayIwassadaboutlosingTuckerintwoweekswastheunderstatementoftheyear.
Tuckerchangedme.Ifeltgood.BetterthanI’dfeltinages,actually.AndIrealizedthatsomewherealongtheline,thetirednessthatcomeswithgriefhadturnedintothekindthatcomesfrominactivityandacrappydietofcaffeineandsugar.
Tuckergotmemoving.Hegavemydayspurpose.Andnowhewouldbeleavingmeinafewweeks,andIfeltpanicatthethoughtofbeingaloneagain,likeIwouldn’tknowhowtokeepdoingthisnewandimprovedmeifIdidn’thavehim.
Ihadbeensoclosetojustkeepinghim.ButafterI’dhunguponJason,I’dthoughtaboutwhathe’dsaid,thathe’dbeenoutoftownandhehadn’tknownTuckerwasmissing.Iwasn’tadogthief.IfIhadsuspectedforonesecondhewasgoingbacktoaneglectfulhome,I’dhavekepthimandneverlookedback.ButIcouldn’ttakehimfromsomeonewhotrulylovedhim.
Joshwanderedinfromthedirectionofthegarage,wipinghishandsonarag.“Alldone.Waterheater’sin.”
Ismiledathim.“Thanks.”
“Youshouldhaveletusbuyitforyou,”hesaid,givingmealook.
Joshwaslikemybigbrother.Brandonwouldhavebeenhappytoknowthathisbestfriendtookcareofmelikehedid.ButIdidn’tliketotakeadvantageofit.ItwasenoughthatJoshfixedhalfthethingsthatbrokearoundhereforfree—hedidn’tneedtobuythethingstoo.I’dboughtandhadthewaterheaterdeliveredbeforeIeventoldJoshtheoldonehadbroken.Otherwisehewouldhavejustpickeditupforme.
“It’sokay.Ihavethemoney,”Ilied.“Tooksomeextracommissionsthisweek.”
Hestudiedmeforalongmoment,butIdidn’tbreakcharacter.
“Okay.”Heglancedathisphone.“Well,I’mgonnaheadhomeandtapoutthesitter.Kristen’salreadyonherwayoverwithdinner.”
Theylikedtofeedme.Ithinktheythoughtiftheydidn’t,I’dstarvetodeath.SixmonthsagoI’dputmyfootdownandonlyalloweddinneronceaweeknow.Theyusedtobehereeveryday,butithadstartedtogetridiculous.Theyhadababyandtheirownlives,andIdidn’twanttofeelliketheirresponsibility.Kristenwouldneversayit,butIthinkitwasarelief.EitherbecauseshethoughtIwasgettingbetterorbecauseshewasgladshedidn’thavetoschlepoverhereeveryday.I’dfilledmyfreezerwithLeanCuisinesandshockedthembothwhenIdidn’tdiefrommalnourishment.
“Seeyoulater.”Joshgavemeahug,ruffledTucker’sears,flashedmeadimpledsmile,andleft.
Thedoglaidhisheadbackonmylap,andIpeereddownathim.Itookmycellphoneandhitthecameraiconandsnappedashot.“IbetJasonwouldliketoseesomeofyourvacationpictures,”Isaid,thumbingatextintothephoneandshootingthephotooff.
Sloan:Allwornoutafterasix-milehike!
Isetmyphonedownandlolledmyheadbackonthesofa.Thenmycellpinged.
Jason:Ibethelovedit.
Anotherping.
Jason:Nopictureofyou?
Irolledmyeyes.Sexyornot,hewasastranger.Iwasn’tgoingtosendhimpicturesofme.
Sloan:DoyouthinkhowIlookisgoingtohaveanybearingonmyabilitytowatchyourdog?
Thethreelittledotsstartedjumping,lettingmeknowhewastypingaresponse.Ismiled.I’dkindoflikedtalkingtohimyesterday.IsatupandtuckedmyfeetundermeasIwaitedforthereply.“Yourdad’saflirt,”IsaidtoTucker.Helookedupatmewiththosesoftcoppereyesandthenputhischinbackinmylap.
Jason:You’veseenpicturesofme.Idon’tthinkit’sthatweirdtowanttoputafacetoaname.You’rewatchingmyfavoritepersonintheworldandIdon’tevenknowyou.
Itwistedmylips.Hehadabitofapoint.Butstill.
Sloan:You’reastranger.Youcouldbeapirate.
Thedotsbeganjumpingagain.
Jason:Aye,thatbetrue.
Ilaughed.
Jason:Doyoulikegames?
Wherewasthisgoing?
Sloan:Itdepends.
Jason:On?
Sloan:Onwhethersomeoneendsupdrunkornakedattheendofit.Idon’tlikethosegames.Ialwaysendupthesoberone,drivingallthedrunk,nakedpeoplehome.
Jason:Notthatkindofgame.
Sloan:I’mlistening.
Jason:EverydayIcanaskyouonequestiontogettoknowyoubetter.Andifyoudon’twanttoanswerit,youhavetosendmeapicture.
IshookmyheadwhileItyped.
Sloan:Whatkindofquestionsarewetalkingabout?Theyes-or-no,check-a-boxkind?
Jason:Lol!No,tooelementaryschool.Realquestions.IcanaskanythingIwant,andyouhavetoanswerittruthfully.
Sloan:DoIgettoaskyouaquestioneveryday?
Jason:Ofcourse.
Sloan:Andifyoudon’twanttoanswerit?
Jason:I’llanswerit.
Sloan:Howaboutifyoudon’twanttoanswerit,youhavetoletmekeepTuckeranextraday.
Therewasapausebetweentexts.TheceilingfanmadeasteadyclickingnoiseabovemewhileIwaited.
Jason:Deal.
Sloan:Deal.
Hisquestionsweregoingtobeperverted.Iwasalmostcertain.Hewantedapicture,sohe’dprobablyaskmethingshethoughtI’dneveranswer.Butthegamewastooalluring.AndIlikedtheideaofaskingthisgood-lookingmysterymanabouthimself.Itwaskindoffun.
Jason:Readyformyfirstquestion?
Sloan:Ready.
Jason:Whydon’tyoupaintwhatyouwanttopaint?
Istaredatthetext.Ihadn’tbeenexpectingthat
Hadheaskedittothrowmeoff?Hadmyweirdnessovermyartshonethroughinourbriefconversationyesterday?Iletoutadeepbreath.NowIkindofwishedtherewerejustyesandnoboxestocheck.
Idecidedtodeflecthim.
Sloan:Really?Thisquestion?Seemslikeawaste.Yougetado-over.
Jason:Don’twantado-over.
Andthen,
Jason:Wouldn’tmindapicturethough.
Mylipspursed.“Fine,”Imutteredtomyself.
Sloan:Ihaven’tpaintedmyownworkssincemyfiancédiedtwoyearsago.
Thedotsstartedtojump.Thentheystopped.Thentheystartedagain.
Jason:I’msorrytohearthat.
Therewasapausebetweentextswhilehetypedagain.
Jason:Sometimesthehardestplacetoliveistheonein-between.
Iblinkedatthemessage.
“Yes…”Iwhispered.
Thedotsstartedbouncingagain.
Jason:Yourturn.What’syourquestion?
Iwasgladhewaschangingthesubject.Ididn’twanttotalkaboutthis.IthoughtaboutmyquestionanddecidedI’dhavealittlefunwithit.
Sloan:Howwouldyousurviveazombieapocalypse?
Thedotsjumpedforseveralminutes.Thenatextpinged,butjustthreewordscamethrough.
Jason:I’mcallingyou.
Thephonerang.
“Well?”Isaid,answeringwithoutsayinghello.
“Myansweristoolongtotext.”
“You’vegiventhezombieapocalypsethatmuchthought,huh?”
“Haven’tyou?It’saserioussituation,”hesaidsternly.
“Onlyamatteroftime,really.”
Icouldtellhewassmilingwhenhecontinuedspeaking.“Survivalisallaboutgoingwherethere’stheleastthreatofotherhumansandzombies.We’dhavetogettosomewhereremote.”
“We?”
“Youandme.”
“HowdoyouknowthatI’mqualifiedtobeonyourzombieapocalypsesurvivalteam?”
“Areyou?”
Iscoffed.“Ofcourse.Butyoudidn’tknowthat.Doyoualwaysgiveoutimportantjobstopeoplewithoutcheckingtheirqualifications?Itseemstobeathingwithyou.”IpulledablanketoverTuckerandmeandgrabbedmyicedcoffee,snugglingdeeperintothesofa.
“You’reright.Totallyright.Admissionintomysurvivalcompoundiscontingentuponasatisfactorycomprehensiveinterview,illustrationofsurvivalskills,andathoroughphysical.I’llbeconductingthephysicalpersonally.”
Ilaughed,hard
“Okay,soprovidedI’vepassedallofyourtests,we’dbeholedupinarural—what?Cabin?”Iasked,puttingthestrawtomylips,stillsmiling.
“Yes,onmypropertyinnorthernMinnesotawherewecouldliveoffthelanduntilthingsblowover.”
Iraisedmyeyebrows.“Liveofftheland?Doyouknowhow?”
“DidyouthinkTuckerwasjustaprettyface?”
“Youhunt?WithTucker?”Ilookeddownathim.Brandonwouldhavelovedahuntingdog.
Thephoneshuffled,andJasonwasquietforamoment.“Checkyourphone.”
ApicturecamethroughofTuckerwearingalifejacketatthebowofasmallfishingboatonachoppy-lookinglake.Ashotgunrestedagainsttheboatbench,andagray,cloudyskyloomedbehindhim.
Jasonwasn’tinthepicture,andIfeltapangofdisappointment.ThenIfeltdisappointmentinmyself.Ihadbecomesomesortofvoyeuroverthisbeautifulman.
ItfeltstrangetobeattractedtosomeoneandevenweirdertobeattractedtosomeoneI’dnevermetbefore.Ihadn’treallynoticedanothermansinceBrandondied.Itkindoffeltlikecheating.
“Anddoyoucookthismeatthatyoukill?”Iasked.
“Themeatiseaten,”hesaid,soundingsomewhatevasive.
“Yougiveittoyourmom,”Ideadpanned.
Helaughed.“She’sanexcellentcook.There’snoshameingivingittomymom.”
“Soyouhunt.You’refamiliarwithfirearms.You’vegotabunkerinthewoods.Youdoseemlikeagoodcandidateforzompocsurvival,”Iallowed.“Imightjoinyourteam.NotsurehowI’dfeelaboutholingupinnorthernMinnesotainthewinter,though.”
“You’dbesurprisedathowwarmthecabingetsoncethefiregetsgoing.Andwecouldalwayssharebodyheat.”
Iarchedmyeyebrows.“Youareawfullyflirtyforamanwho’sneverseenmebefore.WhatifI’mhideous?”
“Soyouobjecttomeflirtingwithyoubasedsolelyonyourpersonality?”
Hehadmethere.“AndwhatifIhaveaboyfriend?”
“Doyou?”
Ismirked.“Thatsoundslikeaquestionfortomorrow’sroundoftruthorpicture.”
“Comeon,you’renotgoingtogivemeonefreebie?It’sasimpleyesorno.Shouldn’tIknowifTuckerisspendingtimewithanotherman?”
Isnorted.“Really?You’regoingtomakethisaboutTucker?”
“Ijustthinkweshoulddiscussitifmydogisgoingtobearoundanunfamiliarmaleinfluence.Idon’twanttoconfusehim,”hesaidinamock-serioustone.
Irolledmyeyesandlaughed.“No,Idon’thaveaboyfriend.”
“Allright.See?Howhardwasthat?I’msingletoo.Nowwecanmoveon.Sowhatmakesyouqualifiedtobeonmyzombiesurvivalteam?”
“Whereareyou?”Iasked.“Don’tyouhaveajob?Aren’tIkeepingyoufromsomethingimportant?”
“Areyouavoidingthequestion?Isitpossiblethatyou’veoversoldyourabilitytosurviveazombieapocalypse?Itfeelslikeyou’residestepping.Answertheinterviewquestion,please.”
God,hewasfun.
“Oh,I’mqualified,believeme.Ijustwonderedhowyouhavesomuchtimeforphonecallsduringyourfancyfilming-on-locationworktrip.”
“It’sonlyeighta.m.here.Ihavesomethinglater,butnotuntilnoon.I’vegottimetohearallabouthowyou’dmakeagoodadditiontomyend-of-dayssquad.Stopchangingthesubject.”
“Howaboutthis,”Isaid,switchingthephonetomyotherear.“I’llsendyoualinkthat’llexplainexactlywhyI’dmakeagoodsurvivalist.ButifIdo,youhavetogivemeanextradaywithTucker.”
Hesuckedinair.“Idon’tknow.Imisshimprettybadly.WaitinganextradaytoseehimwhenIgetbackisatallorder.”
“Ithinkyou’llreallyappreciatemyskillset,”Isaid,inmybestsalesperson’svoice.“Andthere’saphotoofme.It’soldandgrainy,butifyouzoomin,youmightgetarough,pixelatedideaofwhatIgenerallylooklike.”
“Pixelated,huh?Soundssexy.Here’sanidea,howaboutwesharehimonyourextraday?Takehimsomewheretogether.”
Together?Iwasn’tsurehowIfeltaboutthat.“Likewhere?”
“Onahikesomewhere.Youpick.You’rethelocal.Idon’treallyknowanyoneinLA,andIlovetheoutdoors.Itwouldbenicetohavesomeoneshowmesomegoodhikes.”
Iconsideredthis.IwantedtheextradaywithTucker.ButthethoughtofgoingsomewherewithJasonwasalittledaunting.Itfelttoomuchlikeadate.AndIlikedhim,Irealized.Ilikedtalkingtohim.AndthatmadegoingsomewherewithhimfeellikeabetrayalofBrandon.Thatwasstupidandirrational,butitdid.ButIguessedIcouldalwaysoptoutifIdecidedagainstitwhenitrolledaround.Afterall,itwasmyextraday.
“Okay.Youhaveadeal.Givemeasecondtogettothepage.Holdon.”
IfoundtheblogandsenthimthelinkjustasKristenknockedonmyscreen.Tuckerboltedupandrantothedoor,barking.
“Hey,Isentyouthelink,butIhavetogo,”Isaidquickly.“Afriendjustcameover.I’lltalktoyoulater,okay?”Chapter5
Jason
?GiveMeaTry|TheWombats
RoomserviceshowedupwithmybreakfastrightasIhungupwithSloan.
Ipouredmyselfablackcoffeeandsatonthebedwithmyplateonmylapandtappedthelinkshe’dsentme.Whentheblogcameuponmyphone,Istaredatit,myforkhalfwaytomymouth.
No.Fucking.WAY.
Mythumbscouldn’tmovefastenoughovermyphone.
Jason:Areyoutryingtotellmeyou’reTheHuntsman’sWife?
Iwaited.Thedotsdidn’tappear,andIwentbacktotheblogwithmymouthopen.
TheHuntsman’sWifewasawell-knownwebsitecontainingrecipesforwildgame.Inhuntingcircles,itwasthego-toforgoodwildmeatdishes.MomuseditreligiouslywhenDad,mybrotherDavid,andIbroughthomeourhauls.Hell,everyonewhohuntedusedit.
TuckerhadscoredTheHuntsman’sWifeashisdog-sitter?Un-fucking-believable.
IwentrightfortheAbouttabandscouredthecontents.Itwasbrief.
Ifyou’rehere,you’reprobablylookingatsomeridiculousamountofwildsomethingorotherinyourfreezer,wondering,“WhatthehelldoIdowiththis?”
Ilaughed,hearingSloan’svoiceasIread.
I’mheretohelp.MymanisanavidhunterandIamanenthusiasticchef.Enjoy.
AtthebottomoftheAboutpage,aspromised,wasasmallpictureofasmilingmanincamoposingwithacrossbow.Ablondwomanwithtattoosdownherarmstoodonhertoes,kissinghimonthecheek.Sheworelight-graycaprisandawhitetanktopwithherbraidedwaist-lengthhairinapinkbandana.
Itriedzoominginandthephotodistortedseverely.Icouldn’treallymakeoutherface.AllIgotfromthepicturewaslonghairandanicefigure.
Ilookedbackatthemaninthephoto.
Momhadsaid,ratherdisappointedly,thatTheHuntsman’sWifehadn’tbeenupdatedwithanynewrecipesinyears.WasitbecausethehunterinSloan’slifehaddied?
Thesitecontainednootherinformationtogivemeaclueastowhoshewas.Shesignedoffoneverypostas“TheHuntsman’sWife.”NolastnametogoogleorsearchonInstagram.
Itdidn’tescapemethatIwantedtoshamelesslygoogleher,justlikethecreepersheaccusedmeofbeing,butmycuriosityaboutherhadjustgonefrommoderatetoextreme.Iwasimpressed.Reallyimpressed.
Iscrolledthroughtheblog,lookingatitwithanewappreciation.Icouldtastesomeofthefamiliardishesinmymemory.Someoftheseweremyfamily’sfavorites.TheslowcookerDrPepperboarpotroast,thevenisonBolognese,rosemarysmotheredpheasant.ItwasincredibletothinkI’deatenSloan’sfoodwithouteverhavingmetherinperson,thatshe’dalreadybeeninmylifeinthiswayforyears.ItwaslikeIalreadyknewher.
Momwasgoingtoflip.Shit,everyonebackhomewasgonnaflip.AndI’djustweaseledmywayintoadatewithher.Ishouldplaythelotterywithmyluck.
Myphonepinged.
Sloan:SodidImaketheteam?
Ismiled.
Jason:Oh,yes.You’redefinitelyontheteam.Lookingforwardtotheapocalypse.Chapter6
Sloan
?Future|Paramore
ImusthavelookedguiltywhenIhungupwithJasonsoquicklybecauseKristeneyedmesuspiciouslyassheletherselfintomyhouse.
“Whowasthat?”ShedroppedabagfromIn-N-Outonmycoffeetable,floppedontothesofabesideme,andruffledTucker’sfur.
Idebatedlyingtoher.Idon’tknowwhy.MaybebecauseJasonwasamanandhewasn’tBrandonandthatmademefeelguilty?Butshe’dseeitonmyfaceifIlied.Shealwayssawthroughme.
“ThatwasJason,Tucker’sowner.”
Hereyebrowswentup.
Ishrugged.“It’snothing.He’stakingTuckerback.”
Hergazesoftened.“Heis?I’msorry,Sloan.Iknowyoureallygotattachedtohim.”Shedippedherheadabittolookmeintheeye.“Nowquitfuckingwithmeandtellmewhat’sreallygoingon.”
Myeyesnarrowed.“Idon’tknowwhyIbothertryingtokeepthingsfromyou.”
“Idon’tknowwhyyoubothereither.”
Iletoutabreaththroughmynose.“We’vekindofbeentalking.”
“Talking?”Shegrinned.
“Yes.Textingandonthephone.”ThenIscoffed.“Andwaituntilyouseethis.”
IgrabbedmyphoneandwenttothepicturesJasonhadsentmeofhimandTucker.Ihandeditovertoherandwaitedasshelookedatthem.
Hereyesflewwide.“ThisisJason?”
“ThatisJason.Andhe’snice.Andfunny.Andreally,reallyflirty.”
“Andhehasagreatdog,”shesaid.
“Yes,andhehasagreatdog.”
“Ishesingle?”
“Yes.”
“Isheaskingyouthingslikewhetherornotyou’resingle?”sheasked.
“Yes.”
Shebeamed,handingmyphoneback.“Haveyoumethim?”ThenshelookedoveratTucker.“Whyishisdogstillhere?”
“He’sinAustraliaforworkforafewmoreweeks.I’mkeepingTuckerforhimuntilhegetsback.”
MyphonepingedandIglancedatit.ItwasJason.MyeyesshotuptoKristen,andshearchedaneyebrow.
“Isthathim?”sheasked,smilingliketheCheshireCat.“Isitadickpic?Isitamazing?”
“No,itisnotadickpic.Ewww.”Ifheeversentmeoneofthose,thislittleback-and-forthwouldcometoanabruptend.“HewantstoknowifTheHuntsman’sWifeismyblog.”
Hereyeslitup.“Areyoupostingagain?”
“No,it’salongstory,howthatcameup.”Ipursedmylips.“WhydoIfeelguiltyaboutthis?”
“Becauseyouhaven’tdatedsinceBrandon.Becauseyou’relikeahermit.YouremindmeofthoseveiledItalianwidowsfromtheOldWorld,wearingblackandlightingVirginMarycandles,shufflingaroundwiththeirrosariesand—”
Ihitherwithathrowpillowandshelaughed.
“Seriously,Sloan.You’reahotbombshell.You’rebeautifulandtalented,andyoudeservetobehappyagain.Thisreclusestuffisbullshit.”
“Wow,tellmehowyoureallyfeel.”
“No,Imeanit,Sloan.JoshandItalkedaboutthisafewdaysago.We’restaginganintervention.Wedecidedthatoncethetwo-yearmarkhit,weweren’tgoingtoletyoucontinuetomakeyourlifeashrinetoBrandon.Enoughisenough.”
Ilookedathertiredly.“Idon’tchoosetofeellikethis,Kristen.”
“Likehellyoudon’t.YouusedtobeoneofthemostdrivenpeopleIknow.Youhadgalleriesfightingoveryourwork.”Shelookedaroundthelivingroom,andwhenhereyesfellonmymostrecentcommissionedartwork,sheturnedtomeaccusatorily.“ThisistheshitI’mtalkingabout.Whatisthat?Afuckingastronautcat?”
Ihadthesensetolookabashed.
“You’reacrazy-talentedartist.Lookatthecrapyou’repainting.Youchoosethis.”
Isighed.Shewasright.Shewasrightaboutallofit.
“Doshitthatmakesyouhappy.Whydon’tyoupaintsomethingyoulike?PaintTucker.”Sheshookherheadatme.“Andthatguy?Youshouldclimbhimlikeatree.Orattheveryleastshakehisbranches.Seewhatkindofnutsfallout.”
Ilaughed.ThenIbitmylip.“Okay.You’reright.Iwilltry.”
“Youneedtogetlaid.Findaguywho’llfuckyoulikehejustgotoutofprison.Oh!Let’sgetyouaBrazilianwax!”shesaidsuddenly.“Let’svagazzleyou!We’llmakeyourvaginashinyandnew!”
Irecoiledinhorrorandhereyesdancedmischievously.
“OhmyGod,no.”
“Yes.Mytreat.Iwantthecobwebsyankedoffthatthing.”
Myeyelidtwinged.“Youareawful.”
“Ipushedasmallhumanoutofthisbody.Myvaginaisdestroyed.Ihavetolivevicariouslythroughyourvagina.”
Webothgiggled.
“IfIagree,willyoustopsaying‘vagina’?”
***
Kristenstayeduntilalmost11:00p.m.I’dsentJasonaquicktextaskinghimifI’dmadehiszombiesurvivalteam.He’dsaidIhad.Thatwasthelastofourback-and-forthfortheday.
Thenextmorning,Tuckerwokemeupat7:30.ThatwasanothergoodthingaboutTucker,hegotmeoutofbed.Healwayswantedtobeletoutbefore8:00andhemadesureIknewit.AfterItookhimout,Icouldn’tevergetbacktosleep,soIstayedupandstartedmyday.Iusedtosleepuntilnoon,sometimeslater.Ilikedtheearlierroutine.Itgavememoresunlighthours,andthesunperkedmeup.
Tomysurprisemyphonevibratedatexactly9:00a.m.ItwasJason.
Iwonderedifhe’dwaiteduntil9:00onpurpose,sohewouldn’ttextmetooearly.Itmademesmiletothinkhe’dsattherewatchingthetime,waitingfortheexactmomentitwouldbeacceptabletotext.
Jason:Youup?
Sloan:Iam.Yourdogdoesn’tsleepin.Whattimeisitthere?
Jason:2:00a.m.,Thursday.Justgotbacktothehotel.Wednesdaythere,right?
Sloan:Yup.Latenightforyou.
Jason:Rehearsing.Sowhocameover?
Hewasfishing.Ismiled.
Sloan:Mybestfriend,Kristen.
Jason:Didyoutalkaboutme?
Iblanched.ThenIpanicked.HowwasIsupposedtorespondtothat?Yes,wetalkedaboutyou?Mybestfriendadvisedmetoclimbyoulikeatreeinsearchofyournuts?Andthenwetalkedaboutmyvagina?OfcourseIwasgoingtolie.ButIwastooguiltytothinkupabelievableoneonthefly.Iwasweighingmyresponseswhenanothertextcamethrough.
Jason:Youtotallytalkedaboutme.
Mythumbsjumpedintoaction.
Sloan:Ididnot.
Jason:Liar.Ifyoudidn’ttalkaboutme,whatdidyoutalkabout?
Sloan:Imayhavementionedyouinacasual,veryplatonicway.Briefly.
Jason:Didyoutellheraboutourdate?
Sloan:It’snotadate.
Itwasn’t.Right?
Jason:Whatwouldyoucallit?
Iputmypalmupinexasperation.
Sloan:Anappointment.
Jason:Huh.HowdoIgetitswitchedtoadate?
Sloan:Youdon’t.
Ichewedonmythumbnail.Thedotsjumped,andIwaitedtoseewhathehadtosayinresponsetomyrebuff.
Jason:WhenItellmyfriendsaboutit,I’mcallingitadate.Youcan’tstopme.There’sliterallynothingyoucandoaboutit.
Ilaughed.Thisguy.Hedidnotlackconfidence,thatwasforsure.
Idecided,inthespiritofkeepingmypromisetoKristen,togivehimsomethingsmall.
Sloan:I’m26.
Jason:Anotherfreebie!I’m29.Whathighschooldidyougraduatefrom?
Ismirked.Hewassneaky.
Sloan:Nicetry.Thenyou’llGooglemyyearbookandfigureoutmylastname.
Jason:I’lltellyoumylastnameifyoutellmeyours.
Sloan:Nope.
Jason:It’sareallygreatlastname.
Sloan:I’msureitis.Notgonnahappen,though.
Jason:Truthordare?
Sloan:No.
Jason:Spinthebottle?
Sloan:No!
Iwasgigglingnow.
Jason:Monopoly???
Sloan:Yes,IwillplayMonopolywithyousomeday.
Jason:Nowthingsaregettingexciting.
Hewasn’twrong.Chapter7
Jason
?TalkTooMuch|COIN
ThemassivetimedifferencebetweenMelbourneandCaliforniawasfuckingwithme.IwishIcouldsayIwasjet-lagged,buttherealissuewasthatIhadtoputofftextingSloansoIdidn’twakeherupinthemiddleofthenight.Pokingherhadbecomemynewfavoritepastime.
We’dchattedandtextedonandoffalldayThursday,mytime,butIgotslammedthewholedayFridaywithrehearsalsandsoundchecks.She’dsentmeapictureofTuckerandI’dshotheraone-wordreply.AfterthatIdidn’tgetasecondtobreatheuntilafterdinner.At7:00p.m.Australiatime,itwas1:00a.m.forSloan.
WhenIwokeupSaturdaymorningIfeltformyphoneonthenightstand.Itypedinmymessage,barelyawake.
Jason:It’sanewdayandIgetanewquestion.
Thejumpingdotsdidn’tappear,andwhenthephoneranginmyhand,itwasErnie.
“Goodmorning,DownUnder.I’mguessingbyyourcontextcluesthatyouhaven’tcheckedyouremailtoday?”Icouldtellbythewindcomingthroughthephonethathewasinhiscoupéwiththetopdown.“I’mgoingtoneedyoutonotloseyourshit.It’safifteen-hourflighttoAustraliaandIcan’tbetheretochokeholdyouoffaledge.”
Fuck.Isatupinbedandputhimonspeaker.Iopenedtheemailandtookonelookattheattachmentandshookmyhead.“No.Iwritemyownlyrics.Isingmyownlyrics,Ernie.”
“Iknow.Iknowyoudoandthisisagiantloadofsteaminghorseshit,butwetalkedaboutthis.”
“Wetalkedaboutsomeoneelsewritingmymusic?”Isquintedatthescreen.“Whatthehellisthis?Itlookslikeapopsong.Theyrhymedsweetiewithteeny.I’mnotsingingthiscrap.”
Ahornblaredthroughthephone,andhetoldsomeonetogofuckthemselves.Erniedrovelikeamadman.“Look,youneedastrongcrossoverhit.Ilikeindierock.It’snicetolistentowhileIsmokeajointwhenI’mhidingfromthewife,butthatstuffdoesn’tgoplatinum.IfyouwannagetDonHenleyfamouslikeyousaidyouwantedto,crossoverhitsformassmarketishowyoudothat.”
“Yeah,Igetthat,”Isaid.“ButIwassupposedtowritethemusic.”
“Well,wetriedityourway.Youhaven’twrittenanythinginsixmonthsandyourlabel’sgettingitchy.Theywannaknowthey’regonnagetareturnontheirinvestment.You’reinbedwiththesepeoplenow,it’stimetotickletheirballsalittle.Lietothem.Tellthemwhattheywanttohear,thatyou’llrolloverandsingwhattheyaskyouto,thenwritesomethingthat’llblowtheirfuckingsocksoffandbaitandswitchthemwhenyouhaveit.Done.”
Idraggedahanddownmyface.“Fuck,”Imumbled.“AndifIcan’twritesomethingthat’llblowtheirfuckingsocksoff?Thenwhat?”
“Thenit’stwosongsonanalbumoftenandyoudowhateverthehellyouwantwiththerestofit.Look,youandyourlabelhavethesameobjectives.Tosellrecords.Ifyoucan’tcomeupwiththematerialtodothat,they’regonnacomeupwiththematerialforyou.It’sapartnership.Iknowyou’reanartistandthisisyourmediumandtheverysuggestionthatyousingsomethingthatyoudidn’twritefeelslikepickingwhichSTDyouwant,butyouwentwiththebigboysandnowthisisbig-boytime.It’stimetoputonyourbig-boypants.”Twoswifthonks.“Yougrinandbearit,andyouknowwhy?Becauseyouareagoddamnprofessional.”Anotherlong,blaringhorn.
IstaredatmyreflectionintheblackTVonthedresserattheendofmybed.Icouldn’twrite.Iwashavingsomesortoflyricalperformanceanxiety.I’dneverhadtocomposeondemandbefore,andknowingtheywerewaitingforitfeltlikeanenergysuck.I’dcrankedoutthesoundtrack,butjustbarely,andthebeststuffonthealbumwasthethreesongsI’dwrittenwithLolaSimone—andthatwasmostlyher.I’dtakenthosetwoweekshikinginNewZealandhopingthesolitudewouldkick-startmycreativityagain,butnoteventhathaddoneitforme.
Iwasn’topposedtocollaborating.Iwasn’tevenentirelyopposedtosingingsomethingIdidn’twrite—butthesonghadtobegreat.Ithadtosoundlikeme,andithadtobeamazing.Andthat’snotwhatthiswas.
Ipinchedmytemples.“Ihatethis.”
“Yeah,well,letthemoneyandfameconsoleyou.”
Iglancedagainatthelyricsandcringed.Ididn’tevenliketheideaofsayingI’dsingthis.ButwhatchoicedidIhave?Ididn’twanttolookuncooperative,anditwasn’tlikeIhadanythingelsetogivethem.
“Fine.”Ispititoutlikethewordtastedbadinmymouth.
“Thataboy.Also,they’readdingpyrotechnicsandfogtoyourconcerts.”
“What?”
“Ihopeyoulikeconfetti.I’llletthemknowyou’reonboardandyou’rethrilled.Hey!Pickafuckinglane—”
Thecallended.
Iletoutalongbreath.Isangonstagewithnothingbutaspotlight,astool,andamicrophone.Ididn’tdopropsandtheatrics,andIsureashelldidn’tsingsomepopshitIdidn’twrite.
Erniehadwarnedmeaboutthis.I’dknownwhenIsignedmyrecorddealthatthisdaymightcome,andI’dfindmyselfcompromisingmyvisionformywork.Butnowitfeltlikemorethanthat.ItfeltlikeIwassellingmydamnsoul.
Itossedmyphoneonthebedandgotupandtookashower.ThenImadeblackcoffeeinthelittlecoffeemakerandwentouttothebalconytodrinkit.
MyroomoverlookedMarvelStadium,whereI’dplaytomorrow.Peoplewalkedaroundbelowlikeantsinthelightdrizzle,nothingbutglassandwetconcreteasfarastheeyecouldsee.Notrees.Justthesmellofdampasphalt.
Thishotelwasaniceone.Alltheamenities.NotthatIwaspickyaboutwhereIstayed.Icouldsleeponacouchwithmyarmovermyface.Itwasjustanicechange—andonethatcamewithhavingabigrecordlabelthathadassignedmeapersonaltourmanager.Perdiemsforroomservice,top-of-the-linerecordingstudios,heftyadvances,first-classflights—thatIusuallygaveaway,butitwasafrillnonetheless.
Iblewaresignedbreaththroughmynose.Erniewasright.Itwasagive-and-take.I’dbeenanindependentmusicianforsolong,Ijustwasn’tusedtobeingtoldwhattodoandhow.
I’dhavetogetusedtoit.
Sloanstillhadn’ttexted.
Ileanedontherailingandcheckedmyphoneagain,wonderingifithadchirpedandI’dmissedit.Idouble-checkedthatmylasttexthadgonethrough.Itwasmarkedread.
She’dnevertakenthislongtorespondbefore.
WhenatextcamethroughfromLolawithapictureofherlickinghernipple,Iwasdoublyannoyed.Shehadanewnumber.Again.I’dalreadyblockedthelasttwo.Iwasprobablygoingtohavetochangemynumbersinceblockingherswasn’tmakinganyfuckingdifference.
Ideletedthepicture,irritated,anddecidedtogotothegym.
Ididn’thaveanythingonmyschedule.I’dactuallybeenlookingforwardtotoday,whenI’dbefreetobotherSloanasIsawfit.Ithadn’toccurredtomeshe’dmaybenotbeavailableforthat—orinterestedinit.
Betweenthis,theLolatext,andthecallwithErnie,mymorningwasawash.Ihadn’trealizedhowmuchIlookedforwardtosparringwithSloaneverydayuntilitlookedlikeshemightstopacceptingmychallenges.Shewasfunny.Ienjoyedtalkingtoher.IalsolikedhearingwhatTuckerwasdoing,thoughitoccurredtomeI’dbecheckinginonhimahellofalotlessifhewerestillwithMonique.
Iwastyingmyrunningshoeswhenmycellphonepinged.Itippedthescreentowardmeandsmiled.
Sloan:Don’tthinkyou’regettingtwoquestionsjustbecauseyoumissedyesterday.
Ikickedoffmyshoesandgotbackontothebed,sittingupagainsttheheadboardwithagrin.
Jason:Doyouhavetimeforaphonecall?
Thedotsstartedtobounce.Damn,Ilovedthosedots.
Sloan:Sure.
Ihitthephoneiconandpressedmycelltomyear.“Soyou’regoingtorobmeofaquestionbecauseIwasagentlemananddidn’tcallyouatoneinthemorningtoaskit?”Iteasedwhenshepickedup.
“Seemstomethatagentlemanwhoreallywantedtogettoknowmebetterwouldhavefoundtimeforatextwithhisquestionduringreasonablehours.”
“Iwasverybusyyesterday.”
“Soundslikeyoujustweren’tproperlymotivatedyesterday.Atextonlytakesasecond.NowIhavenochoicebuttopenalizeyou.”
Hertonewasplayful,butshewasn’tgoingtocutmeanyslack.Andwasshemaybe,justpossibly,alittlemadatmefornotbeingmoreattentiveyesterday?Thethoughtmademesmiletomyself.“WhatcanIdotomakeituptoyou?GivemeyouraddressandI’llsendyouflowers.What’syourfavoritekind?”
“Sunflowers.Andnotachance.”
“Iguessedyoumightsaythat.”
“YouknewIwouldsaythat.Sowhat’syourquestion?”
Ididn’tevenhavetothinkaboutit.“WhatdidyoutellyourfriendKristenaboutme?”
Shegroaned.“IthinkI’dprefertosendyouapicture.”
“Thatbad,huh?”
“IfIgiveyoubackyourforfeitedquestion,willyouchangethisone?”
“Definitelynot.”
SheletoutasighandIsnickered.ThenIthrewheralifeline.“I’lltellyouwhat,ifyouagreethatourhikewithTuckerisgoingtobeadate,I’llaskyousomethingelse.Oryoucouldkeepcallingitanappointment,andthenyoucantellmeallaboutwhatyoutwoladiestalkedaboutyesterday.Oryoucouldsendmeapicture.It’sallawinforme.Ican’tactuallydecidewhichoptionIlikebest,they’reallsogreat.”
Shelaughed.“Youarenotgoingtogivethisup,areyou?”
“Nope.”
“Youknowwhat?IthinkIwilltellyouwhatIsaid.BecauseIsaidverylittle,actually.Ishowedheryourpicture.Isaidwe’dbeentextingandtalking.AndIsaidyouweretakingTuckerback.That’sit.Youaskedthewrongquestion.YoushouldhaveaskedwhatKristensaidinresponsetowhatIsaid.Thatwasthejuicystuff.”
“Youshowedhermypicture?”Iasked,grinning.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“She’smybestfriendandweweretalkingaboutyou,”shesaid.
“Soyouagreethathavingapictureofsomeoneishelpful?”
“Iseewhereyou’retakingthis,anditwon’twork.”
“Ihaveabestfriendtoo,youknow.Cooper,thebartenderdownstairs,wouldalsoliketoseeapicturetoaccompanymystoriesaboutyou.”
“Well,Cooperisgoingtohavetohelpyoutothinkupmuchbetterquestions,then,isn’the?”
Iputmyarmbehindmyheadandgrinned.“Makemypictureyourwallpaper.”
“What?No!”
“Doit,Idareyou.”
“No.Tuckerismywallpaper.IlikehavingTuckerasmywallpaper.Unlikehisdad,Tuckeriswellbehaved.”
“Well,inallfairness,Tucker’sgotadateandnotanappointment.”
Shelaughed.
Housekeepingknocked,andIslidoffthemattresstoopenthedoorandwavethemoff,slippingtheDonotdisturbsignontotheknob.Igrabbedabottledwaterfromtheminibarandclimbedbackontothebed.
“Sowhatdidyoudoyesterdaythathadyousobusythatyoumissedyourdailyquestion?”sheasked.
“Ihadsoundcheckandrehearsal.ThenIhaddinnerwiththegroup,”Isaid,takingthecapoffmywater.
“Oh,you’reinagroup?”
“No,I’malonewolf.IhaddinnerwiththegroupthatI’mworkingwithtomorrownight.”
“Andwho’sthat?”
IwasopeningforTheBlackKeysonSunday,butforSloanthatwasembargoedinformation.IhadofficiallydecidednottotellherwhoIwasorwhatIreallydidforaliving.Ididn’twantittodistractherfromgettingtoknowmeasaperson.I’dlearnedafewlessonsfrommytimewithMonique.Iwasn’tgoingtolie,perse,Ijustwasn’tgoingtovolunteerthingswheneverpossible.
“You’veprobablyneverheardofthem,”Isaid.ThenIchangedthesubject.“Somymom’sprettyexcitedIknowTheHuntsman’sWife.”
“Really?Doessheusemywebsite?”
“Yes,religiously.I’veeatenalotofyourfood.Wheredidyoulearnhowtocook?”
“Mymomhasacateringcompany.ShehasafoodtruckontheWarnerBros.lot.Igrewuphelpingher.”
“Anddoessheservealotofwildgame?”
IcouldalmostimaginethesmirkIheardonherlips.Almost.IreallydidwishIhadapicture.
“No,butonceyouknowhowthemeattastes,it’snothardtoworkwithit,”shesaid.
Ishookmyhead.“Yes,itis.That’swhyyourpageissopopular.”
“Isit?”
“You’rekidding,right?EveryoneIknowusesit.Whydon’tyouupdateitanymore?”
Shepausedforamoment.“IcookedthemeatthatBrandon,myfiancé,usedtobringhome.Hediedinamotorcycleaccidenttwoyearsago.Hitbyadrunkdriver.SoIstoppedblogging.”
Icouldhearthetightnessattheedgesofhervoice,andsomethingprotectiveinmetwitched—whichwasweird.Ibarelyknewher.ButIdidn’tlikethatshe’dgonethroughthis.Whydoallthebadthingsalwaysseemtohappentogoodpeople?
“Doyoustillcookotherthings?”Iasked,gettingusoffthetopic.
“Notreally.Itkindoflostitsallureforme.”
“Soifyoudon’tcook,whathaveyoueatentoday?”
“Hmmm.Well,I’mstillblowingthroughthegiftcardsIgotforChristmas,soIwenttoStarbucksandgotmycoffee,”shesaid.“ThenIwenttoKristen’shousetogoswimming.Shehasatoddler.Wehadwatermelonandmacaroniandcheeseforlunch.Kristenmadeit,sothemacandcheesewasverysoggy.”
“AndwherewasTucker?Didyouleavehimaloneathome,heartbrokeninasmallcloset?”
“Oh,youmeandidIleavehiminacrate?”
Ismirkedatthejab.
“No,hecamewithmeandhewentswimmingtoo.AndhegotapuppuccinoatStarbucks.”
Iwrinkledmyforehead.“Awhat?”
“Apuppuccino.Acupofwhippedcreamfordogs.”
“That’sathing?”
“Itis.There’sallkindsofthingsyoucangetfordogsatrestaurants.Youcangeticecreamatmostplacesaslongasitdoesn’thavevanillabeansinit.Andthere’sacupcakeshopcalledNadiaCakesthatItakehimtothathasdoggycupcakestheymakefromscratch.”
Iarchedmyeyebrows.“Wow,hereallyisonvacation.”
“There’sareasonwhyyou’repayingmethebigbucksformydog-sittingservices.”
“I’dhavepaidmore.”
“I’dhavedoneitforless.”
Ismiledandjammedanotherpillowbehindmyback.
“I’mgoingtoputyouonspeaker.Holdon,”shesaid.“IhavetogetsomeworkdoneandIneedmyhands.”
Iheardshuffling.
“Whatareyoupainting?”
“Wanttoseeit?”sheasked,soundingslightlyfartherawaythanbefore.
“Yes,absolutely.”
“Holdon,I’llsendyouapicture.It’sreallylame.You’regonnalaugh.There.”
Iputmycellphoneonspeakerandclickedonthepicturemessageshesent.“Isthat…anastronautcat?”
“Itoldyouitwaslame.”
Izoomedin.“It’swelldone.It’sjust…acat’sheadonanastronaut’sbody?”
“Yeah.Idofreelanceworkforacompanythattakesyourpet’sfaceandphotoshopsitontodifferenttemplates.Thentheysenditouttoanartisttopaintit.They’renotallcatastronauts.Sometimesthey’redogsplayingpoker.”Shelaughed.
Itiltedmyheadtostudythepicture.“It’sprettyimpressivethatyoucanpaintthat,though.I’dlovetoseewhatyoudidonyourown.You’reobviouslytalented.”Iwasn’tbullshittingher.Itreallywasgood.
“ItgoteasiertopaintsomethingIwasgiventhantofindinspiration.IhaveanEtsystoretoo.It’sallkindofmindless.”
“YoushouldpaintTucker.Painthimduckhuntingintheboat,”Isuggested,grabbingtheroomservicemenufromthenightstandandstartingtolookoverthebreakfastoptions.
“Kristensaidthesamething.Youhaveanaccent,youknowthat?”
Ilookedup.“Ido?”
“Yeah,Icanhearitwhenyousay‘boat.’It’skindofnice.Ilikeit.”
She’dneversaidanythingcomplimentarytomebefore.I’dlayonmyMinnesotaaccentextrathickfromnowon.
“Sowhatdoyoudowhileyoupaint?Doyoulistentomusic?”Iasked.
“IwatchtheIDchannel.Real-lifecrimeshows.”
“Ahhhh,that’swhyyou’resoconvincedI’mamurderer.”
“Howmanyacresofhuntinglanddidyousayyouhave?”
“MyfamilyownstwohundredacresinnorthernMinnesota,”Isaid.“Why?”
“Thereyougo.Theperfectplacetohideabody.Ibetyouhaveahuntinglodgethatlocksfromtheoutsideandeverything.”
Ichuckledandcrossedmylegsattheankle.“DoIlooklikeapsychopathtoyou?”
“TedBundywasagood-lookingguy.Charismatictoo.”
“I’lltakethatasacomplimentsinceitsoundslikeyou’resayingI’mgood-lookingandcharismatic.Butaren’tmostpsychokillerscrueltoanimals?IthinkTuckerwouldtellyouthatI’veneverraisedmyhandtohiminanger.”
“Hmmm,”shehummed.“Well,thatdoesgoagainstthetypicalserialkillerprofile.UnlessyouuseTuckertolureyourvictims.”
Ismiled.“Heiskindofachickmagnet,isn’the?”
“Ibetthetwoofyoumakeakilling.”
“No,sofarhe’sonlybroughthomeonegirl,andhe’sbeenkeepinghertohimself.”
Therehadtobeaneyerollintheensuingpause.
“Areyoureadyformyquestionoftheday?”sheasked,asmileinhervoice
“Shoot.”
“What’sthenicestthingyou’veeverdoneforastranger?”
Shehadgoodquestions,andthisonewaseasy.“Idonatedmybonemarrow.”
“Wow.Youdid?That’saprettybigdeal.Howdidthathappen?”
Tuckerwalkedaroundinthebackground,makingafamiliarclickingsoundonthefloorwithhisnails.
“IcanhearTucker,”Isaid.
“Ohyeah,hisnailsareprettylong.I’mgoingtotakehimintoPetSmarttomorrowandhavethemcut,actually.He’salmostoutoffoodtoo.”
“SaveyourreceiptssoIcanreimburseyou.”
“Yeah,yeah,”shesaid.“Sobonemarrow,tellme.”
“Right.IgrewupinareallysmalltowninnorthernMinnesota.Populationthreethousand.Soeveryoneknowseverybodyelse.Therewasalittlegirlinthetownwhogotleukemia,soalotofthetownsfolk—”
“‘Townsfolk’?”Shesoundedamused.
“Yes,‘townsfolk,’weactuallytalklikethatthere.”
Shelaughedatthis.Ilikedherlaugh.Itwasmusical.
“AlotofthetownsfolkregisteredonBeTheMatchbecausesheneededabonemarrowtransplant.Sheendedupgettingone.Nobodysheknew.ButIwasintheregistryafterthat,andIendedupbeingthematchforaguywithlymphoma.SoIdonated.”
“Didtheylive?”sheasked.
Inodded.“Theydid.I’mfriendswiththeguyonFacebook.He’sbeeninremissionforfouryearsnow.AndEmilytoo.Shejustgraduatedhighschool.”
“Wow.That’s…that’sreallygenerous.”
Ishrugged.“Ijustcouldn’timaginebeingthatsickandnothavinganyoptions,youknow?Andmaybeonedaysomeonewilldoitforme.OrsomeoneIlove.”
Therewasalittlepause,andshewassmilingwhenshestartedtalkingagain.“Sointhistinytownofthreethousand,whatkindofthingsdidyoudoforfun?”
Itickedoffonmyfingers.“Icefishing,dogsleddinginthewinter.Canoeing.IworkedasaguidefortripsintotheBoundaryWatersfortenyears.Mydadownsanoutfittingcompany.”
“Andyourmom?Whatdoesshedo?”
“Shestayedhome.Workedattheoutfittersinthesummerwhenitwasbusy.”
Shelaughedalittle.“Youreallyareanortherner,aren’tyou?Haveyouseenanymoose?”
“I’veseenmoose,wolves,thenorthernlights—”
“Oh,Iwouldlovetoseethenorthernlights.It’sonmybucketlist.”
“Yeah?Whatelseisonyourlist?”
Shemadeahummingnoise.“Iwanttoeatsoft-shellcrabs.Oh,andIwanttovisitIreland.That’smybiggestone.What’sonyourlist?”
Ifanyonehadaskedmethesamethingyesterday,I’dhaveanswered,“PlaytheHollywoodBowl.”Buttoday?“Iwanttotakeyouonadate.”Chapter8
Sloan
?ThisCharmingMan|TheSmiths
TuckerlovedPetSmart.Hestartedcryingtobeletoutassoonaswegottotheparkinglot.Hejumpedfromthecarandpulledmeintothestore,chokinghimselfintheprocess.Hisenthusiasmmademelaugh,butthatwasn’ttheonlythingmakingmesmiletoday.Jasonhadmeinagoodmood.
We’dtalkedalldayyesterday.Allday.WhenFightClubcameontheTVinhishotelroom,IfounditonNetflixandwewatchedittogether,talkingthroughit.Idrainedmycellphonebatterythreetimesandfinallyendeduplyinginbedhookeduptomychargeruntilwehungupalittleaftermidnight.
Itwasofficial.Ihadamajorcrushonhim.
He’dgrownupstompingaroundinthewoods,andI’dgonetoahighschoolthathadastudentbodythesizeofhistown.He’dworkedsummerstakingtouristsoncanoeingtripsintothewildernesswhileIdidbeautypageantsuntilIwaseighteenandworkedatthemall.Butsomehowweclicked.Wegotalongsowell,itwascrazy.
Anditwasscary.
NowIhatedthathedidn’tknowwhatIlookedlike.Whatifhedidn’tthinkIwaspretty?Whatifhewaslike,“Oh”whenhefinallysawmeforthefirsttime?Iwantedtojustbitethebulletandsendhimapicture,butnowIwastoofreakedoutaboutit.Andallthroughyesterday’sphonecallhe’dkeptaskingmeforadate.
Itwas1:00andIhadn’theardfromhimyettoday,butitwasstillearlyinMelbourne.I’dspentthemorningstressingaboutmyappearance.Ihadanewfoundurgencytoundotwoyearsofneglect.
JasonwouldbebackinCaliforniainaweek.Thatgavemesevenshortdaystoprepare.Ihadn’tcaredaboutmyappearanceinsolongIwasn’tsurewheretoevenbegin.Ialwaysthrewmyhairintoabun,mytoeswentwithoutpolish,myskingotnothingexceptasplashofsoapandwatertwiceaday.Andnowthismanwaspracticallyextortingmeforapictureofmyself,andIwasinnowaypreparedtobeexamined.
“You’rebeingdramatic,”KristenhadsaidthismorningwhenIcalledherinahalfpanic.“Yourhairhasneverlookedbetter.Ithasn’tbeenheat-styledinyears.You’retan,andyou’vealwayshadaperfectfigure.Relax,you’reaknockout.Believeme,I’dtellyouifyouwereahotmess.”
Thisdidmakemefeelalittlebetter.Shewouldtellme.Shehadliterallynofilter.
ThismorningI’dpluckedmyeyebrowsandmadeanappointmenttohavemyhairtrimmed.Ididateeth-whiteningstripandamudmask,andafterwardIfeltslightlylessdespondent.ButIwasstillsonervous.Ihadn’tcaredaboutwhatamanthoughtofmesinceBrandon,andsuddenlyIwasobsessed.IfeltlikeIwasshakingoutadustypartydressI’dleftballedonthefloorofmyclosetfortwoyears,hopingitstillfitandthemothshadn’tdestroyedit.
IwalkedTuckertothegroomingdepartmentatthebackofthestoreandstoodwaitingtocheckhiminatthecounter,thinkingofJasonandchewingonmylip
Awomaninadark-bluePetSmartshirtgreetedme.“Checkingin?”
“Yes,hejustneedsanailtrim.”
SheleanedoverandlookedatTucker.“Noproblem.Andwhodowehavehere?”
“Tucker.”
Somethingflashedacrossherface.Thegroomerbehindherjerkedherheaduptostareatme,andthetwosharedalook.
“AreyouSloan?”thefirstwomanasked.
“Yeeeees,”Isaid,lookingbackandforthbetweenthem,unsurewhatwashappening.
“Onemoment.”Shegrinned,puttingupafinger.“Justwaithere.”Thenshedartedintoasidedoor.Whenitopenedagain,agiantvaseofsunflowersfloatedout.
“OhmyGod,”Iwhispered.“Hedidn’t.”
Thewomanheavedthevaseontothecountertop.“Theseareforyou,”shesaid,beaming.
Istaredatthearrangementinshock.“How?”
“Yourboyfriendcalledusthismorningandsaidhewantedtosurpriseyouwhenyoucamein.We’vebeenwaitingforyouallday.It’ssosweet!”
Mystomachflippedattheword“boyfriend.”Hewasn’t,ofcourse,butmystomachdidn’tcare.
Theflowerswerestunning.Redrosesweremixedinwiththehugeyellowblossoms,andfloweringbranchesgaveitextraheight.ItwaseasilythelargestarrangementI’devergotten.Itmusthavecostafortune
“There’sacard,”thewomansaid,turningthevasetothelittlewhiteenvelope.
Ipluckeditfreeandslidashakingfingerundertheseal.
Thereweretwosquareboxesdrawnonthesmallpaper,withthewords“yes”and“no”writtenabovethem.
Sloan,doyoulikeme?Checkone.—Jason
Ilaughedoutloudandhadtoslapahandovermymouth.
IhandedTuckeroverforhisnailtrimandcalledJason.Heansweredgroggily,butIcouldhearthesmileinhisvoice.“Goodafternoon,Sloan.”
“Youaretoomuch.Howdidyouknowwheretosendthese?”
Hesoundedlikehewasstretching.“YousaidyouweregoingtoPetSmart.Iknowgenerallywhereyoulive.Igoogledit.”
“They’rebeautiful.”
“Iwasaccusedofnotbeingproperlymotivatedonce,soIsteppedupmygame.”
“Youreallydid,”Isaid,lookingtheflowersupanddown.“Butyoushouldn’thavedoneit.”
“Didyoureadthecard?”
Iblushed.“Yes.”
“Didyoucheckabox?”
“Maybe.”
“Areyougoingtotellmewhichone?”
“Definitelynot.”
“Thenthat’smyquestionfortheday,”hesaid,thesmileinhisvoicecomingthroughthephone.
Isighed.“Icheckedyes.”
“Good,”hesaid.“Ilikeyoutoo.”Chapter9
Sloan
?ABeautifulMess|JasonMraz
Therewasasmallwetspotonmykitchentile.“IthinkI’vegotaleakypipe,”ItoldJasonoverthephone.Istartedpullingoutallthecleaningproductsfromundermysinkanddabbedatthedampsurfacewithmyfinger.“Ugh,it’sdefinitelywetunderhere.”
“IcanhavealookatitforyouwhenIgetback,”heoffered,ahopefuledgetohisvoice.
Jasonwascominghometomorrow.Hewaspackinghishotelroomupaswespokeandheadingtocatchaflightinjustafewhours.Mystomachflippedagain.Ithadbeenroilingfordaysinanticipationofmeetinghiminperson.Iwasamess.Myeyelidtwitchedmercilesslyfromthestress.
“No,you’renotcomingoverhere,”Isaidagain.“I’llmeetyoulikeweplanned.”
“Comeon,atleastletmemeetyouatarestaurant.WhatkindofdateisStarbucks?”
“It’snotadate,”Iremindedhim,slidingabowlundertheslowdrip.
“Oh,that’sright.It’sanappointment.”
We’dknowneachotherfortwoweeks,andforthelastweekofthat,we’dspokendaily,forhoursaday.Wetextednonstopwhenweweren’ttalking.Ilikedhimsomuchitwasridiculous.IthinkIknewhimbetterinaweekthanI’dknownBrandoninsixmonths—Jasonwasalotlessshy.ButIcouldn’tbringmyselftoagreetoarealdate.Notuntilwemetinperson.
“Ijustdon’twantthingstobeweird,”Isaid,turningandslidingdowntothefloorwithmybackagainstthedishwasher.Iclosedmyeyesandputafingeronmyspasmingeyelid.
“Whywouldtheybeweird?”
Becauseyou’veneverseenmebefore?Becausewe’vetalkedconstantlyforthelastweekandyou’veneverevenbeeninthesameroomwithme?
Ididn’tanswer.
Thelongsoundofazipperclosingonluggagecamethroughtheline.“PutTuckeronthephone,”hesaid.
“What?”
“Tucker,puthimonthephone.”
“Like,putthephoneuptohisear?”
“Yes.”
IgotupandfoundTuckersleepingonthesofa.“ShouldIleaveyoutwoaloneforthis?”
“Yeah,thisisjustbetweenusguys.”
“Okay,heregoes.”IheldthephonetoTucker’sear.HeimmediatelyperkedupatthesoundofJason’svoice.Hecockedhisheadandlistenedandthenboltedoffthesofaandtorearoundthelivingroom,barking.
Iputthephonebacktomyear,laughing.“Whatdidyousaytohim?”
“IaskedhimtoshowyouhowexcitedIamtomeetyou.Actually,Itoldhimthere’sasquirreloutside,butIthinkhestillillustratedmypoint.”
Ismiledintothereceiver.ThenImovedthephoneawayfrommymouthandswallowed.“Imadeyousomething.”
“Youdid?Whatisit?”
“Justsomething.I’mgoingtosendittoyounow.Ihopeyoulikeit.”
Iattachedalinktoatextandheldmyfingeroverthelittlearrowthatwouldputitintotheuniverse.Itookanervousbreathandsentitthrough.
Nogettingitbacknow.Itwasdone.
“I’mgoingtogotobedearly,”Isaid.“Haveasafeflight,okay?IguessI’llseeyoutomorrow…”Chapter10
Jason
?SoulMeetsBody|DeathCabforCutie
SloansentmealinktoaYouTubevideo.Isatontheedgeofmybedandwatchedit,maximizingthescreen.
Someoneheldupapieceofpaperinfrontofthecamerathatread,MyvacationwithSloan.ThenitbegantoshowclipsofTucker.Tuckeronhikes,Tuckerswimminginaswimmingpool.TuckeratStarbuckslickingwhippedcreamoutofapapercup,andhimatPetSmartwithablueplushdollinhismouth.ThenhewasinabathtubgettingabathwithhishairspikedintoaMohawk.Tuckerchasingagreentennisballonthegrassandplayingwithotherdogsatadogpark.
IfIhadn’talreadylikedSloan,thiswouldhavedoneit.Tuckerwasmycurrency.Itmightaswellhavebeenmeshewasspoiling,ithadthesameeffect.
IsmileddownatmyscreenasIwatchedaclipofTuckeronhisback,gettingabellyrub.Thentheframechanged,andhesatonacouchnexttoawoman.Iboltedtoattentionandpulledthephonecloser.
Thewomansmiledathim,andhelickedherface.Icouldseethetattoosonherarm.Shelookeddirectlyatthecameraandreachedupoff-screen,andthevideoended.
Myheartthuddedagainstmyribcage.ThiswasSloan.ThiswasthewomanI’dbeentalkingto.
Andshewasfuckingbeautiful
Iplayedthevideoback.ThenIplayeditbackagain.IpauseditandtookscreenshotsofhersoIcouldlookatthem.Izoomedinandstudiedher.Shehadoneofthosebroadsmilesthatradiated.Fulllips,largebrowndoeeyes,longgolden-blondhair.Jesus,shewasgorgeous.
IwasstillwatchingthevideowhenIgotintomyUber.Icalledher.
Voicemail.
***
ItextedSloanlastnight,tellingherhowbeautifulIthoughtshewas,butallIgotwasasmileyfaceanddidn’tknowhowtointerpretthat.Ithinkthestressofourmeetingeachotherwasgettingtoher.
Itwasgettingtometoo.
EvenbeforeI’dseenwhatshelookedlike,I’dlikedhermorethananyoneelseI’dmetinaverylongtime.Iwenttosleepandwokeupthinkingabouther.Ifuckingdreamedabouther.Ihadn’tevenlookedatanotherwomansidewaysprettymuchsincethemomentwestartedtalking.AndallthatforawomanIhadn’tevenlaideyesonyet.
NowIworriedthatIwouldsomehownotmeasureup—whichwascrazy.She’dseenenoughpicturesofmetoknowwhattoexpect,andIwasnotanunconfidentpersonbyanystretchoftheimagination.Itwasjustthatmeetingherfelttooimportant.
Myflighthadbeensmooth,andI’dgottenasmuchsleepasIcouldsoI’dbefreshforour“appointment.”
AfterIdroppedoffmyluggageathome,Itookashower,threwonaT-shirtandjeans,andtooklongerthanIcaretoadmittrimmingmybeardandmessingwithmyhair.ThenImademywaytotheStarbucksonTopangaCanyon.
Iwaitedonthepatio,bouncingmyknee,openingandclosingmyhandthewayIalwaysdidrightbeforeIplayedinfrontofabigcrowd.I’dgottentherehalfanhourearlyandIsattherescanningtheparkinglotandsidewalks,completelynervousandlaughingtomyselfbecauseInevergotlikethis—foranythingoranyone
Ididn’tknowwhatitmeantthatIfeltlikethisalready.AllIknewwasthatIdid
Shewaseightminuteslatewhenshecalled.
“Hey,”Isaid,pickinguponthefirstring.“YousaidTopangaCanyon,ri—”
“Jason,Ican’tcome,mykitchenisflooded!”
Chaoscamethroughtheline.Tuckerbarkedinthebackground,andIcouldhearthesoundofsprayingwater.“Thepipeunderyoursink?”
“Yes!OhmyGod,it’sadisaster!”
Iwasalreadyrunningtomytruck.“Givemeyouraddress.”
Therewasapause.
“I…but…”
Ihadtolaugh.Still?Evennow?“Sloan,yourkitchen.”
Shemoaned.“Fine.”
Sherattledoffheraddressandtoldmenottoknock.
GoogleMapssaidshewasjusttwoblocksaway,andIgottherewithinthreeminutesandranintothehouse.
Iglancedaroundthelivingroom,registeringonlymomentarilythatIwasinSloan’spersonalspace.Itsmelledlikevanilla.Itwasclean.TheflowersI’dsenthersatbyaneaselwithahalf-paintedcanvasofapugdressedlikeNapoleononit.Idartedtowardthesoundofdistressandburstintothekitchentomadness.
Sloanwasbythesink,soakingwetandpanting,standinginaninchofwater.
Ourgazesmet,andshehitmelikeatonofbricks.Mybody’sreactiontoherwasinstantaneous.IcouldalmostfeelmypupilsdilateasItookherin.
Shewasawomanwhowouldhavefrozenmedeadinmytracksanywhere.Absolutelyshowstopping.
IallowedmyselftwoheartbeatstostareatherbeforeItoremyeyesawaytolookaround.Shehadn’tbeenkidding,thisreallywasbad.
Towelsandwhatmusthavebeenthecontentsofthecabinetwerestrewnalloverthefloor.Thedoorsunderthesinkwereopenandwatersprayedout.Tuckerbarkedandscratchedfrombehindadooroffthekitchen.
Iquicklyrummagedthroughtheopentoolboxonthecounter,hyperawarethatSloanwatchedme.ThenIdovetomykneestolookunderthesink,kneelinginapondofcoldwaterandtakingthesprayrightintheface.
Sloanhadamazingwaterpressure.Iwasimpressed.
Thecutoffvalveonthewaterinletlinewasjammed.Ittookafewhardyanks,butIgotitshutoff.BythetimeIstoppedtheflow,Iwascompletelydrenched.
Ishimmiedoutandstood,soakingwet,waterdrippingoffthetipsofmyfingers.Iturnedtoher,rakingahandthroughmydamphair.Shelookedatme,hereyeswide,andwestaredateachother.
Wow.Thisisher.
“Hi,”shebreathed.
“Hello.”
TheshortvideoclipandthetinypictureofheronTheHuntsman’sWifehadinnowaypreparedmeforSloaninperson.Shewaslikea1950spinupgirl.Alltattoosandcurves.Longhair,loosearoundhershoulders,wetattheends.
Smart,funny,andnowthis.I’dwonthefuckinglottery.Whyshehadn’tbeenthrowingpicturesatmerightandleftwasbeyondme.Maybeshedidn’twantmetoknowhowgood-lookingshewasforthesamereasonIdownplayedwhatIdidforaliving?Ididn’tknow,butthiswasawelcomesurpriseforsure.
Herwide,browneyesmoveddownmychestandbacktomyface.Theonlysoundswerethewaterstilltricklingoutfromunderthesinkandthethrummingofmyheartinmyears.
Thecornerofhermouthtwitched.Thenshestartedtolaugh,andImentallyassignedtheimagetoeverysmilingmomentI’dimaginedonthephone.
Beautiful.
“I’mgladyoudidn’tmakethingsweirdforourfirstappointment,”Isaid.“Justarun-of-the-mill,no-stress,first-meetingflood.”
Shelookeddownatthewaterinherkitchen.“Thisissomessedup,”shesaid,stillgiggling.
“Doyouhaveashopvac?”
“Idon’tknow.”Sheputahandtoherforehead.“Brandonmighthavehadone.”
“Where’syourgarage?”
Shepointedtoadoor.Iwentintothegarageandimmediatelynotedthemancave–likeinterior.Professionaltoolsandanimpressiveworkbench.Afewneonbeersignsonthewalls.Adustyman’sjackethungonahookbythedoorandanemptyopenbeersatonthecounter.
AnoldCorollasatinthemiddleofthetwoparkingspaces,withaduct-tapedsidemirrorandadoorthatdidn’tmatchtherestofthecar.
Afterpokingaround,Ifoundashopvac.WhenIgotbackintothekitchen,Sloanwassweepingwateroutthebackdoorwithabroom.
ThenexthalfhourwasspentsuckingwateroffthefloorwhileSloanwrungouttowelsandsetupfansinthedoorway.Weworkedwithouttalking.Thevacuumwastooloud.Butwekeptstealingglancesateachother.
Ihelpedhercarryahugearmloadofwettowelstothewashingmachine.Whenthedoortothelaundryroomopened,Tuckerspilledout,andIdroppedmytowelsandcrouchedonthefloor,laughingandlettinghimlickmyface.God,I’dmissedhim.HemadecryingnoisesatthesightofmeandallIcouldthinkwas,Thisguy’sgettingamajorfinder’sfeelater.
Sloanwatcheduswithasmileandstartedtheload.Whensheclosedthelidandturnedtome,Ileanedinthedoorwaywithmyarmscrossed.Tuckerstoodbetweenusandlookedbackandforthwiththesameproudfacehealwaysmadewhenhe’dretrievedaduckformeanddroppeditatmyfeet.
“Thanksforallyourhelp.”Shelookedupatmethroughherlonglashes.“Thishouseisamess.It’sreallyold.Thingskeepbreaking.”Sheseemedunsurewhattodonowthatthecrisishadbeendealtwith.
Ismiled.“Gotodinnerwithme.”
Sheblinked.
“Dinner,tonight,adate.Notanappointment,adate.”
Shestudiedmyface.
“Iwanttotakeyouout,”Isaid.“Letme.”
Ifshesaidno,IwasprettysureIwasgoingtobeg.
“Okay.”
Igrinned.Good.Finally.“I’llwaitforyoutogetready,”Isaid.“We’llleaveTuckerhereandI’llgethimwhenIdropyouoff.”
“Butwhataboutyou?You’resoakingwet.”
“Yougetready,andthenI’lldriveustomyplacesoIcanchange.”
Shegavemeawide-eyedstranger-dangerlookandIlaughed.SothatwasthefaceshemadeeverytimeIaskedherprobingquestionsonthephone.
“Here.”IpulledoutmysoggywalletandfishedoutmyID.“Takeapictureofmydriver’slicenseandsendittoKristen.”
Ihandeditoverandshelookedatit.“Youreallyareanorgandonor.”
“Andnotacreeperorapirate.Ihopeyou’renotdisappointed.”
Shelaughed,andIcouldn’teventakemyeyesoffher.
Shesmiledupatme.“Givemeasecondtogetchanged.”Chapter11
Sloan
?Name|GooGooDolls
Thisplaceisn’tascrappyasIthoughtitwasgoingtobe,”Isaid,loudenoughthatJasoncouldhearmethroughthedoor.
JasonlivedinasilverAirstreamtrailerparkedbehindsomemusicexecutive’smansioninCalabasas.AnOlympic-sizepoolglistenedwithintenstepsofJason’sfrontdoor,surroundedbybirdsofparadiseandwaterfalls.Thewholeplacewasgreen.
Icouldonlyimaginehowmuchitcosttowatereverythinginthedrought.Therewerepenaltiesforusingtoomuchwater.Mylawnwasdead.I’dliketosaythiswasduetomysupportofwaterconservation,butmysprinklerswerebrokenandIcouldn’taffordthefixorthewatertobringthegrassbacktolife.Whoeverownedthisplacemustbeloaded.
Histrailerwassmall,butneatandcomfortable.Nofrills.KindofexactlywhereIwouldhaveexpectedJasontolive.Hewasabitofaminimalist,fromwhathe’dsaidtomeduringourtalks.
He’ddrivenusoverinhisblacktruck,andthatwaspracticalandfunctionaltoo.Itwasolderbutclean.Notlikemycar.ImadeamentalnotetoneverletJasoninmycar.
Helaughed.“Andwhywereyouexpectingsomeplacecrappy?”hesaidfromtheothersideofthebedroomdoor.
“BecauseyousaidTuckerchewedupeverything.”
IpickedupapictureframefromthecounterandstudiedthephotoofJasoninthickwinterclothes,smilingwithhisdog.Asnowybackdropasfarastheeyecouldseespilledoutbehindthem.Notmyfavoriteshotofhim.IlikedtheoneswhereIcouldseemoreskin.Isetitdownhurriedlyasheopenedthedoorofhisroom.
God,hewaseasytolookat.Ifeltmyfaceflush.Again.
Whenhe’dwalkedintomykitchen,mybodyhadturnedonlikeahousecomingoutofatwo-year-longpoweroutage.Everythingswitchedonuntiltheentireplacewaslitandalltheapplianceswererunning.Heart,cheeks,lungs,eyes,thetipsofmyfingers,thebutterfliesinmystomach,ringinginmyears,weaknessinmyknees.Allalive,allbuzzingwithelectricity.
Helookedfrommetothepictureframe.“That’sinMinnesota,”hesaid,leaningonthecounter,hisarmalmosttouchingmine.Iswallowedhard.Hesmelledgood.Reallygood.Somethingcrispandclean,likepineandfreshlaundry.Itmademewanttoleaninandtakeadeepbreath.
Hisluggagesatinthesmallsittingarea,andaguitarcaserestedonabenchbythetinytable.Itremindedmehowshortatimehe’dactuallybeenback.He’dflownin,hadaboutanhourtohimself,thenhadgonetomeetme.
“Aren’tyoutired?”Iasked,peeringoverathim.“Youjustgotoffafifteen-hourflight.”
“Icansleepjustaboutanywhere.Igotenoughrestontheplane.”
Heleanedwellinsidemypersonalbubble.Ithinkhediditonpurpose.Icouldactuallyfeeltheheatcomingoffhisbody.Myconservativeside,thesidethatcouldn’tforgetI’dbeenengagedtoanotherman,wantedmetotakeastepback.ButthesidethatsuspiciouslysoundedlikeKristenranoutofbreathyellingatmetoholdmyground.
Iheldmyground.
Iwassingleandwasallowedtofeellikethis.Iwaspermittedtoflirtandgetbutterflieswhenanothermanstoodtooclose.AndIwasdefinitelygettingbutterfliesnow.
“Areyouherepermanently?InLA?”Iasked,tryingtokeepmyvoicefrombetrayingmyreactiontohisnearness.
“Forthemoment.TheywantedmehereforthesoundtrackIwasworkingon.Myrecordingstudio’shere,anditwasjusteasiertocoordinateeverythingwithmelivinglocally.Plus,itputsmeclosefortheeventsIhavetoattend.”
“Whatevents?”
“Well,there’sthemoviepremiere,”hesaid.“AndIwenttotheGrammys.”
“YouwenttotheGrammys?”
“Yeah,itwaskindofabroadindustryinvitethatIgotinon,”hesaiddismissively.Helookedatmylips.“So,doyoulikemyplace?”heasked,somewhatdistantly,talkingtomymouth.
“Ididn’tknowwhattoexpect.Ithoughtmaybethere’djustbeahammockbetweensometreesorsomething.”
Helaughedandhispiercingblueeyescreasedatthecorners.Ihadn’tanticipatedthoseeyes.Thereweresomethingsphotosjustcouldn’tdojusticeto.
“WhenmylabelmovedmetoLA,theyincludedhousing.ButIlikemytrailer.Myagent,Ernie,offeredaspotonhisproperty.He’sgotagyminthepoolhouseandIhavefreerunofthelaundryroom.”
Ismiled.“Thisplaceisacompound,”Isaid.“Thosearewhat?Thirteen-footgates?Areyousureyoudon’twanttorideoutthezombieapocalypsehere?”
Helaughed.“I’llgiveyouthegatecodeincaseyouwanttodropby.”Henoddedtotheback.“Comeseethebedroom.”
Iwasinterestedinseeingthewholeplace.HeletmegofirstandIstoodjustinsidethedoorandlookedaround.Nobedspread,onlygraysheetsandasoft-lookingblanketfoldeddownattheend.Hemustsleephot.Lordknewheputoffenoughbodyheat.
Simplebeigecurtainshungonthewindows,andacellphonechargerwaspluggedinonthenightstand.Theroomsmelledlikehim,andbeinginsuchapersonalspacemademyheartflutteralittle.Itwasweirdtotalktosomeonesomuchonthephoneandthenrealizehewasarealpersonwithnicesmellsandabed
Jasonhadcomeupbehindme,andheleanedintotheroomwithhishandsoverhisheadonthedoorframe.“Look,Igotyouinmybedroomonthefirstdate,”heteased,andIglancedovermyshoulderandshothimalook.
“IsthatwhereTuckersleepsinhislittledungeon?”Ipointedtoacratewedgedbetweenthebedandthewall.
Hechuckled.“Iwonderhowhe’lltakebeingbackinhiscratenowthathe’sbeenspoiledbysleepingwithabeautifulwomanforsolong.”
Iturnedtohim.“Areyoujustgoingtoflirtshamelesslywithmenowthatyou’reonthisdatethatyouwantedsomuch?”
“Ofcourse.”Hegrinned.
Theroomwassmall,andwithhimhanginginthedoorway,Iwasbackeduptothemattress.Withhishandsoverhisheadlikethat,hisarmandchestmusclespushedagainsthisT-shirt.
Hehadthemostamazingbody.Hewasn’tbulky.Hewaslitheandtonedandhestoodeasilyafoottallerthanme.Hefilledtheroomwithhispresence,evenfromthedoor.
Myeyesflickereddown.Thebottomofhisshirthadriddenup,andIcouldseealineofhairrunningdownthemiddleofhisstomachintothetopofhisjeans.Mybreathhitched,andIlookedbackupathisfacequickly,hopinghehadn’tnoticedmywanderingeyes.
Hisamusedexpressiontoldmehehad
Itdidn’tescapemethatanhouragoIhadbeencompletelyopposedtomeetinghimanywhereotherthanStarbucks,andnow,ifhetookhalfastepforward,I’dhavetositonhisbed
Iclearedmythroat.“So,whatifIhadn’tagreedtothisdate?”Iasked,lookingupathim.
Hegavemeamischievouseyebrow.“ThenIwasgoingtogowithmybackupplan.”
“Whichwaswhat?”
“Sameasmyoriginalplan,onlywithmoresubterfuge.”
“Subterfuge?”Itiltedmyhead.
“Yeah.Iwasgoingtotakeyouonthedateanyway,letyoucallitanappointment,andnevertellyouitwasadatethewholetime.”
Ilaughed.
Henoddedoverhisshoulder.“Comeon.Let’sgoeat.”
***
Jasonwantedmetopickwherewewent,soItookhimtoahole-in-the-wallMexicanplaceIlikeddownthestreetfrommyhouse.Ared-boothed,smallrestaurantwithtrumpet-heavyrancheramusicplayingoverthespeakersandpaintingsofmatadorsonthewalls.Theygaveusaquietboothinacorneratatablewithasombrerohangingaboveit.
“Ifigureyouhaven’thadMexicaninawhile,”Isaid.“Australiaprobablyisn’tknownforitscarneasada.”
Abusboyslidtwoicewatersinfrontofus.
“Wedon’thaveverygoodMexicanfoodinMinnesota,”hesaid.“It’soneofmyfavoritethingsaboutLA.”
“WhatelsedoyoulikeaboutCalifornia?”
“Well,thedog-sittersarehot,”hesaid,winkingatmeoverthelaminatedmenu.
InarrowedmyeyesathimplayfullyasIpulledmyvibratingcellphoneoutofmypocket.“Ohno,”Isaid,lookingatthescreen.“IhavesevenmissedcallsfromKristen.Holdon,itmightbeaboutOliver.”ImusthavenotfeltitgoingoffwhenIwasinJason’struck.Ipressedthephonetomyear.“Kristen?Iseverythingokay?”
“PleasetellmethatyougoogledJason.”
“What?”
“Youdidgooglehim,right?Youknowwhoyou’reonadatewith?”
Mystomachdropped.OhmyGod.I’dsentKristenapictureofJason’sID.She’dobviouslyfoundhimonline.Washearegisteredsexoffender?Afelon?IlookedupatJason,whoeyedmefromacrossthetable,lookingconcerned.
Iclearedmythroat.“Um…Ineedtotakethis.Excusemeforaminute?”Islidoutoftheboothbeforehecouldreply.Ipracticallyrantotheladies’roomandlockedmyselfinastall.
“Okay,I’malone.Whatdidyoufind?Hewouldn’ttellmehislastnameunlessItoldhimmine,soIcouldn’tgooglehim!”
Myheartpounded.WhathadIdone?HeknewwhereIlivedandeverything.I’dgiventhisstrangermyaddresslikeanidiot!Ipacedinsidethestall.Ialmostdeservedtobemurdered,Iwassostupid.
“You’reseriouslytellingmeyoudon’tknowwhoheis?Ithoughtyouguystalkliketwenty-fourseven.Howdidthisnevercomeup?”
“Kristen,what?”
“Uh,he’sJaxonWaters?Thesinger?Theonewiththat‘WreckoftheEdmundFitzgerald’animatedviralmusicvideoyouwatchedliketwohundredtimes?”
Myheart.Stopped.Dead.
“What?”Ibreathed.
“Ifanyonecouldmakethatsongcool,it’sthatdude.”Kristensnorted.“I’monhisWikipediapage.Indierockmusic.Hegotfamousfromthatcover.Thenhisself-producedalbumwentgold,andhegotsomebigrecorddeal.He’sdoingtheentiresoundtrackforthatmovieTheWildernessCallswithJakeGyllenhaal.HegottheBestNewArtistawardattheGrammyslastyear.JasonLarsen,grewupinEly,Minnesota,birthdayNovemberseventh,sixfootone.MomisPatricia,dadisPaul,abrothernamedDavid—howdidyouofallpeoplenotfindthisshitout?You’relikethemostparanoidpersonIknow.”
Iletoutaquiveringbreath.“Imean,hetoldmehewasamusician,butIjustthoughtheplayedbackuporsomething.Hedidn’ttellme!”
“Wow.Majorcyberstalkerfail.”
Joshspokeupinthebackground.“TellherIhopesheshavedherlegsforthisdate.”
“Yes,youneedtogetnakedwiththatman,”Kristenadded.
Ifannedmyfacewithmyhand.“OhGod.I’mfreakingout.HowdoIactnormalnow?Ihavelikesevenofhissongsinmyplaylist,rightnow.I’mafan!I’mlikeagroupie!Icannotbecool,Kristen!”
“Okay,butdidyoushaveyourlegs?”
“No!Ididn’t!Ishavednoneofthethings!BecauseI’mnotgettingnakedwithhim,nordidIhaveanyplansto!HowcanIgobackoutthere,Kristen?I’mgoingtohaveapanicattack!”
JasonhadjustbeencatapultedfromamanIwasreallyintotosomeoneIwasliterallystarstruckby.“Ican’tbreathe.Istolehisdog.Hesentmeflowers,”wasallImanagedtosay.Mybrainwasmisfiring,shootingoffrealizationsastheinformationrepositionedJasoninmymind.
“Uh-huh.Well,youhavenobodytoblamebutyourself.YoushouldhaveusedtheGoogle.Nowgetbackoutthere.”
“Havefun!”Joshshoutedfromthebackground,andtheybothsnickered.
Imadeapitifulgroaningnoiseandhungup.ThenIgoogled“JaxonWaters”andhitImages.
Therehewas.
Therewereshotsofhiminatuxedoonaredcarpet.Thenanotherpictureofhimsittingonarockinthewoods,playinghisguitar.OhmyGod.AstillframeofhimholdingaGrammy.AfuckingGrammy
Igrewupfeedingcelebritiesoutofmymom’sfoodtruck.Theydidn’tflusterme.Irarelygotnervousaroundthem.ButJaxonWaterswasdifferent.Hismusichauntedme.Itspoketomysoul.ItwasetherealandbeautifulandIcouldnotbenonchalantaboutthis.
Icameoutofthestallwithshakinghandsandstoodoverthesink.
“Calmdown,”Iwhispered,willingmybodytocomply.Itdidn’tlisten.IthinkIwouldhavebeenlesspanickedifI’dfoundoutIwasonadatewithanescapedconvict.
WhenIfinallywalkedbackouttothetable,Jasonsmiled,alookofreliefonhisfaceatseeingmereappear.He’dprobablywonderedifI’descapedoutabathroomwindowbyhowlongIwasgone.
“Everythingokay?”heaskedasIslidintothebooth.“Doweneedtogo?”
“It’sfine,”Isaid,myvoiceatouchtoohigh.
Heraisedaneyebrow.“Yousure?WhatdidKristensay?”
Mymouthhadgonedry.Ipickedupmyglassofwateranddownedit.HewatchedmewithamixofamusementandconcernandIwonderedifJasonfoundwomenwhoneededtobreatheintotheirhandsandliedowninrestaurantboothssexy.
Isetmyglassdownandclearedmythroat.“Ijustgotsomenews.”
“What’swrong?Tellme.”
“You’reJaxonWaters,”Iblurted.
Theamusedsmilethatcreptacrosshisfaceconfirmedmyaccusation.“Haveyouheardofme?”
“Yousaidyouplaybass.”Iglared,andmyeyelidtwitchedominously.
“Ido.”Heshrugged.“Ialsoplayguitar,Ising…”Hisgringotwiderinproportiontomygrowingeyes.
“But…butIwenttoyourhouse!”Isaidbreathlessly.“WherewasyourGrammy?”
Anothershrug.“Inthepantry?”
“Jason!”
Helaughed.“What?It’satrailer.Idon’thaveanyshelfspace.”
OhmyGod.
“Whydidn’tyoutellme?”Idemanded.“I…I…why?”
He’ddonethisonpurpose.He’dpurposelysandbaggedthis.Ihadbeencatfished,onlythecatfishwasridiculouslygood-lookingandfamous,andIwasactuallyprettyimpressedwithwhatI’dreeledin.
Thiswastoomuch.
Actinglikealunaticwhennervouswasmysignaturemove,andIdidn’tdisappointtoday.Myeyeliddoveintoafull-fledgedtwitchingrebellionatthestressofthesituation.Iletoutanexasperatedsighandpressedmyfingertomyeye.Myfacewenteithersheetwhiteorbrightred.Maybethecolorswererotating.Therewasnotelling.Iwassoembarrassed.Idon’tthinkIcouldhavelookedcrazierifItried.
“MyeyelidtwitcheswhenI’mnervous,”Isaidmiserably,tryingtoexplainmyweirdness.
Jasonstudiedmyface.“Don’tyouthinkI’mnervoustoo?”
Istaredathimwithoneeye.
“Ilikeyou.AndIgetnervousaroundbeautifulwomenIhavecrusheson.”
Surelyheknewthiswasnotevenremotelythesamething.Themanhadafanbase.Myfacecalledbullshitandhiseyesdancedlikethiswasthemostfunhe’dhadallyear.
WestaredateachotherinaMexican-restaurantstandoffofsilence,andalmostcomically,thewaitressdroppedabasketofchipsandsalsabetweenus.ItbrokethetensionandIlaunchedintomanicgiggling.Thismadehimlaugh,andwhenIsnorted,webothlostit.
Ittookusaminutetogetaholdofourselves.
“Jason,Ilistentoyourmusic,”Isaidamomentlater,bitingmylip.“Alot.Iloveit.Yourlastalbumgotmethroughareallyroughtimeinmylife.”
Hewipedathiseyes,stillrecovering.“AndI’veeatenthefoodfromyourblog.I’mprobablyabiggerfanofyoursthanyouareofmine.”
“Idoubtthat.AndatleastItoldyouaboutmyblog.”
“Well,youhadtoorI’dhaveneverletyouonmyzombieapocalypsesurvivalteam.”
Iscoffed.
“Ididn’ttellyouwhoIwasbecauseit’snotabigdeal.Iwasstillabartenderupuntiltwoyearsago.Mysuccessisaverynewthing,andIjustwantedyoutogettoknowmewithoutitinfluencingwhatyouthoughtofme.Besides,I’mnotthatfamous.”
ImadeanoisethatindicatedIdisagreed.Onafamescalefromonetoten,hewasprobablyasolidseven.Andanyway,itwasn’twhateveryoneelsethoughtabouthimthatwasfreakingmeout.ItwasthefactthatIlovedhismusicsomuch.God,nowonderI’dlovedthesoundofhisvoicefromtheveryfirstphonecall.Ugh.
Iputmyelbowonthetable,stillholdingmytwitchingeyeliddown.“Ijustneedalittlewhiletogetusedtothisidea.”
“Doyouwantmetosingsomethingforyou?”Hegrinned.
“Notunlessyouwanttoresuscitatemeafter.”
Helaughed.“Thatbad,huh?”
“Ohyeah.Thatbad.Imaybeoneofyourbiggestfans,seriously.”
“AndyetyouhadnoideawhatIlookedlike,”hedeadpanned.
“YourviralvideoisClaymation.Andyou’renotonyouralbumcover!It’sjustapictureofthatweirdred-eyedduck.”
“Aloon?”Hegrinned.“Youcouldhavegoogledme.”
“Comeon,whogooglespicturesofsingers?Yourappearancehasnobearingonyourabilitytomakegoodmusic.”
“Justlikeyourappearancehasnobearingonyourabilitytobeagooddog-sitter?”
“Exactly.”
***
Bythetimeourfoodcame,thingswerealmostbacktonormal—asnormalasafirstdatewithyourfavoriterecordingartistcouldbe.
ThemargaritaIwashavingwashelpingimmensely.
MystrategyfordealingwiththisnewJaxondevelopmentwastotrytoforgetwhohewas.Jasonassuredmehedidn’tgetrecognizedveryoften,sohopefullythatwouldaidinmyattempt.Ifotherpeopleswooned,Iwasgoingtoswooninsolidarity.
Iwasgladhehadn’ttoldme.Hewasright—itmighthavechangedthings,mostlybecauseifIhadknownsooner,myresultingweirdnesswouldhaveprobablyscaredhimoff.
“SodoIstillgetonequestionaday?”heasked,takingabiteofhistaco
“Sure,whynot?”
Heswallowedandwipedhismouthwithanapkin.“WhatdoesKristensayaboutourdate?”
Iblanched.“Wheretobegin?Areyousureyou’rereadyforthis?She’sprettyvulgar.”
Hepickeduphisbeer.“Ilikeheralready.”
“Shetoldmetoclimbyoulikeatree.”
HepracticallychokedonhisCorona.
“Iwasalsoadvisedtoshakeyourbranches.I’mafraidtothinktoomuchaboutthatone.Andallthisbeforesheknewwhoyoureallywere.”
Hegrinned.“Andnow?”
“Let’sjustsaythatbothherandherhusbandarerootingforyou,”Isaid,talkingintomymargaritaglass.
Helookedthoroughlyamused.
“She’sbeensendingmetextsnonstopforthelasthalfhour,”Isaid.
Henoddedatmyphone.“Whatdotheysay?”
Isetmydrinkdownandpickedupmycell.“‘Askhimifyoucantouchhisguitar.’”
Heshookhishead.“That’snottoobad.”
“‘Guitar’isinquotes.”
Hishowloflaughterturnedheadsattheothertables.
“Shewantstoknowifyousmelllikepineconesandflannel.”Itiltedmyheadtowardhim.“DoyouseewhatIhavetoputupwith?”
Hebeamed.“WhendoIgettomeether?”
“Hopefullynever.She’llinterrogateyouthewholetime.ThenJoshwillgetyoualoneonthepremisethatheneedshelpgrillingorsomethingandhe’llmakethreatsaboutwhathe’lldotoyouifyouhurtme.You’rebetteroffnevermeetingeitherofthem,trustme.”
Helaughed.“Ican’twait.Justletmeknowwhen.Butitcan’tbethisweekend,though,I’mgoingforashortvisittoMinnesotaonFriday.”
“Oh.”Myfacefellalittle.“Youjustgothere.”
“Areyougonnamissme?”Hiseyessparkled.
Iheldinmysmile.“Who’swatchingTuckerwhileyou’regone?”
“Iwasgoingtotakehimwithme—unlessmydog-sitter’savailable.”Hegrinned.“Buthe’scomingwithmeontour,though.”
Iscrunchedmyforehead.“Youhaveatour?Whenisthat?”
“Junefirst.Fourmonths,fiftycities.”
Hewasleavinginthreeweeks?Forfourmonths?Well,thatsucked.
“WillyoucomevisitmewhenI’montheroad?”heasked.
“Rightnow,I’mjusttryingtomakeitthroughthismealwithouthyperventilating.”
***
“Now,ontoournextadventure,”Jasonsaidafterdinner,startingtheengineofhistruck.
“Where’sthat?”Iasked,rollingdownmywindow.
“HomeDepot.”
“HomeDepot?Forwhat?”
“Forpartstofixyoursink,”hesaid,backingoutoftheparkingspace.
Ishookmyhead.“No.Definitelyno.”
“No?”Heglancedatme.
“No.Ican’tletyoufixmysink.That’s…justno.”
Hesmiledoverthesteeringwheel.“You’dratherletastrangerdoit?You,whowouldn’teventellmewhereyouliveduntilyourkitchenwasaninchdeepinwater?”Hegavemeacomicalwide-eyedlookandthenturnedbacktotheroadwithagrin.
Inarrowedmyeyes.
“Also,bonus,ifyouletmedoit,Tuckerstaysoverlonger.”Hesmirked,knowinghehadme.
“Fine,”Isaid,puttingmymouthintomypalm,notwantinghimtoseemysmile.
“Anythingelsethatneedsfixing?”heasked.
“Thewholehouse,”Imumbled.
“It’snotingoodshape?”
Thehousehadbeguntofeellikeasandcastleathightide.Itwascrumblingaroundme.
“No.WhenBrandonandIboughtit,hewasgoingtofixitup.Hewasgoodatthatstuff…”Isaid,trailingoff,notknowingifIshouldbetalkingaboutmydeadfiancéonadate.ButJason’sexpressionstayedneutral.
“Givemealist.I’lldoit,”hesaid,turningontoRoscoeBoulevard.
Ismiled.“You’reahandymaninadditiontobeingJaxonWaters?”
“We’reself-sufficientinEly.Icouldbuildyouawholenewhouseifyouwanted.Sowhatdoyouneeddone?”
“Jason…”
“What?Ilikefixingthings.Besides,mydoglikesyou.Ibethe’dliketocomeover.Cometothinkofit,IlikeyouandI’dliketocomeovertoo.”
Hisunrelentingflirtingwasgoingtogivemeaheartattack.ButIcouldn’treallyarguewithhisreasoning.Thepipedidneedfixing.Joshdidtwodayshiftsatthestation,soifhehadworktomorrowthatwouldleavemewithoutakitchensinkuntilatleastWednesday—thatwasprovidedhedroppedeverythingonhisdayofftocomehelpme,whichIhated.Andfrankly,Icouldn’taffordtopayforaprofessionaltodoit.Ialreadylivedpaychecktopaycheck.
Brandon’sfirestationhadsetupaGoFundMeformeafterBrandondied.ThathadhelpedbridgethegapuntilIwasuptoworkingagain.Imadeokaymoneydoingastronautcatsfromthevolumealone—I’dalwaysbeenfast.Buttheancientwaterheaterjustneededreplacingandthemonthbeforethat,theair-conditioningunitbroke.Nowmykitchenhadflooded,andIwasn’tsureifthefloorsweregoingtosurvivethedamage.IfIhadtopayforanewkitchenfloor,Iwouldn’tbeabletopaymymortgagethismonth.
IshouldhavesoldthehouseafterBrandondied.Icouldn’tafforditonasingleincome.Itwastoobigformeandtoobroken.ButIjustcouldn’tbringmyselftodoit,thesamewayIcouldn’tbringmyselftoemptyhisclosetorcleanoutthegarage.
“Okay.ButcanIpayforyourtime?”Iasked.“AndI’llobviouslycoverthematerials.”
“Idon’twantyoutopayme.Oh,whichremindsme.”Hereachedacrossmetoopentheglovebox.Hisarmbrushedmyknee,andthesidesofhislipstwitched.Hehandedmeanenvelope.“Here.ThemoneyforwatchingTucker.IknowIdon’thaveyourreceiptsyet,butIguesstimated.AndIaddedareward.”
Iheldtheenvelopeandlookedatit.Ineededwhatwasinit.Butnowtakingitfeltweird.ItwasonethingtoacceptitfromastrangerwhosedogIwaswatching,amanwhowastakingTuckerawayfromme.Thatwasabusinessarrangement.ItwassomethingelseentirelytoacceptmoneyfromaguyIwaskindofdatingandwhowantedtohelpmewithrepairsonmyhouse.
Ihandeditbacktohim.“Whydon’tyoukeepthis?Youcanfixthesinkandwe’llcalliteven.”
Hedidn’treachforit.“Iinsistyoutakeit.It’snonnegotiable.”Somethingfinalinhisvoicetoldmethediscussionwasover.“Asformaterials,youhavealotoftoolsandpartsinthegarage.IdoubtI’llneedmuchelse.Icangetalotdonewithwhat’salreadythere.”
Ididn’treply.HeparkedthetruckintheHomeDepotlotandputonthebrake.“We’rehere.”
“Youdon’tthinkthisisalittleweird?Youfixingmysink?”
“TheweirdthingwouldbemenotfixingitknowingthatIcan.Comeon,”hesaid,openinghisdoor.“Iwannagetmyhandsonyourpipes.”
***
JasonwentthroughHomeDepotwithasurgicalaccuracythattoldmeheknewhiswayaroundahomeimprovementproject.Attheself-checkoutstand,hewouldn’tletmepay.“Partofourdate.”
“No,it’snot,”Iobjected,tryingtoswipetheitemsfromhim.
Hepivotedandheldeverythingoverhishead,outofmyreach.Icrossedmyarmsandglaredathim.Hisblueeyestwinkled,andImarveledforthehundredthtimeathowhandsomehewas.Hispictureshadbeengreat,buthewassomuchbettersetinmotion.
“IfI’dtakenyoutoacarnivalandwonyouastuffedanimal,thatwouldbepartofthedate,right?OrifI’dbroughtflowersorpaidforamovie?”
“Yes.Butthat’stypicaldatestuff.Buyingmepartstofixmysinkisn’t.”
“Soyouwantmetobetypical?”Hegrinned.
Hehadthiswayofbackingmeintomyowncorners.Heturnedhisbackonmeandcontinuedhispurchase,shootingavictoriouslookoverhisshoulderasthereceiptprintedout.
“Onemorestop,”hesaid,grabbingthebag.
“Whatnow?Areyougoingtochangemyoilorsomething?”
“Icanchangeyouroilifyouwant.”Helaughed,thentookmyhandandwovehisfingersthroughmineashewalkedmeoutofthestore.
Idied.Ihadtodrawonsomeinternalstrengthwomenprobablyuseforchildbirthjusttoclosemyfingersaroundhis,becausehistouchmademelosecontrolovertheuseofmyhand.
JaxonWatersisholdingmyhand.
Ididn’tevenrememberthewalktothetruck.IthinkIblackedout.
“You’regoingtoliketheentertainmentportionofthisdate,”Jasonsaidafewminuteslater,pullinguptoagasstation.“Let’sgoinsideandgetsomedessert.”
Wemadeouricecreamselectionsfromthedeepfreezer,andthenIpouredmyselfasmalldecafandhoveredoverthecoffeestation,eyeingtheindividualflavoredcreamers.JasoncameupbehindmeasItooksevenhazelnutsandslippedthemintomypurse.Iturnedtohimandhearchedhiseyebrowsatme.
“What?Theycomewiththecoffee.AndIlovethelittlecreamers.Ikeeptheminmypurseforcoffeeemergencies.”
“Coffeeemergencies?”Hesmileddownonme.
Hewasbackinmypersonalspaceagain.Justslightlycloserthanmostpeoplestood.Itmademefeelalittlebreathless.
“Yeah,”Iswallowed.“Youcanneverbetooprepared.”
“Anddoyouhavealotoftheseemergencies?”heasked.Hiseyesmovedtomylipsagain,andhecockedhisheadalittlelikehewasstudyingthem.
“Atleastoneaday.”
Hecamebackupandgrinned.“Comeon.”
Hetookmyhandasheledmetotheregister.Heboughtourdessertsandmycoffee,andheaskedfortwentydollars’worthoflotteryscratchers.
Oncewewerebackinthetruck,Jasondroveusaroundtothecarwash.“Ready?”heasked,leaningoutthewindowtopunchacodeintothekiosk.
“Readyforwhat?”
“Theentertainment.Rainbowcarwash.”
Ilaughed.“OhmyGod,Iloverainbowcarwashes!It’sbeensolongsinceI’vedoneone!”
“Youdon’twashyourcar?”heasked,drivingin.Oncethetiresweretakenoverbythetrack,heleanedbackinhisseatandopenedhisicecream.
Ipulledthelidoffofmysorbetandstartedpokingatitwithmyspoon.“Youhaven’tseenmycar.”
“TheCorolla?IsawitinyourgaragewhenIwaslookingfortheshopvac.”
“Well,thenyouunderstandwhyIdon’tbothertowashit,”Isaid,lookingupatthewindshieldaswaterstartedsprayingoverthetruck.Thelongstripsoffabricbeganslappingbackandforthacrossthehoodandthenostalgiccitrussmelloftheunderbodywashdriftedinthroughthevents.
“Weneedasoundtrackforthis.”Hefiddledwiththeradio.AmewingLolaSimonesongcameonandhequicklychangedthechannel.Ihatedhermusictoo.TooCourtneyLoveforme.
HesettledonKROQ,andwhenthefoamyrainbowsoapstartedtopouroverthetruck,weglancedateachotherandsmiled.Weheldthelookforalongmomentbeforestaringbackoutthroughtheglass.
IwassosensitivetohimsittingthereIcouldbarelyfocus.Italmostfeltlikeneitherofuswasactuallywatchingthecarwash.Likeoureyeswerethere,butourattentionwasoneachother.Atleastminewas.
Whenthetruckwasdone,Jasonparkedinfrontofthegasstationandhandedmetendollars’worthofscratchers.“Ifwewinanything,wedecidewhattodowiththemoneytogether,”hesaid,digginginhiscupholderandproducingapennytogiveme.
“Howdoyouthinkofthisstuff?”Ismiled,rubbingmypennyonthescratcher.“IthinkthisisthebestdateI’veeverbeenon.Firsttheguysavesmefromaflood.Thenherevealshe’smyfavoriterecordingartist.Hegivesmeanenvelopefullofmoneyandbuysmehardware,followedbyashowandsomegambling.”
“Icouldthinkofafewwayswecouldmakeitevenbetter.”Hegavemeadevilishgrin.
“Justsoyouknow,Idon’tevenkissonthefirstdate,”Isaid,finishingmyscratcher.Iwontwodollarsandheldthecarduptoshowhimwithasmirk.
“AndhereIam,gettingtheupgradedcarwashfornothing.”
Ilaughed.
Icouldn’tbelievewhatagoodtimeIwashaving.IalwaysfiguredmyfirstdateafterBrandonwouldbeapainfulmilestone.ABand-Aidtotearoff.Butitwasn’t.Jasonmadeiteasy.
Jasonmadeitalotofthings.
“CanIseeyoutomorrow?”heasked.
Ismiled.“Youwanttoseemeagain?”
“Idon’tevenwanttodropyouoffathometonight.”
Iblushed.Again.
ButthenIrememberedwhatdaytomorrowwas.Itwasthetwo-yearanniversaryofBrandon’sdeath.Thedaywe’dtakenhimofflifesupport.Ihadanagendafortomorrow,alistofpositivethingsI’ddecidedtodoinhismemory.
“Ican’t.Ihaveplanstomorrow.Howaboutthedayafter?”
Helookedslightlydisappointed,buthenodded.“Okay,thedayafter,then.It’sadate.”
Ididn’tobjecttohimcallingitadate,andhelookedtriumphantlybackatthescratchersinhislap.Hewonfivedollars.
“Sowhatdowedowiththemoney?”heasked.
Ibitmylip,thinking.Hiseyesmovedtomymouthagain,andIsmiled.“Withsevendollars?HowaboutwebuyachewtoyforTucker?”
“Greatidea.WecouldtakehimtoPetSmartonournextdate.”Heputthescratchersintothedrinkholder.
AguitarintroIrecognizedcamethroughthespeakers.“Oh,Ilovethissong,”Isaid.“‘Name’bytheGooGooDolls,right?”
Hepickedupmyraspberrysorbet.“Yup.CanItrythis?”heasked.
Inoddedathiscarton.“Givemeyours.”
Wesatlisteningtothemusicandeatingeachother’sicecream.Hiswasmintchocolatechip.Weusedeachother’sspoons.Somethingaboutknowingthatthelittleplasticutensilhadbeeninhismouthmademyheartpound.
Icouldn’tbelievethisday.
Westaredateachotherunapologeticallyaswesatthere.Myeyestraveledfromhissharpblueirisestohislips.Iwonderedifhisbeardwouldtickleifhekissedme.I’dneverkissedanyonewithabeardbefore.ImoveddowntohisthroatandwatchedhisAdam’sapplebobasheswallowed.Isawthepulseofhisneckandthedipofhiscollarbone,thewayhischeststrainedagainsthisshirt,therhythmicriseandfallofhisbreathing.
BythetimeIlookedbackup,neitherofuswasmoving.Isatwithmyspoonupsidedownonmytongue,alltheicecreaminmymouthlonggone.Heheldhiscartoninhislapandjuststaredatme.
Jasonhadthiswayoflookingatme.Itremindedmeofhowpeopleusedtolookatmypaintings,backbeforetheastronautcats.Afocusedfascinationthatleanedinandsearchedthebrushstrokes.Hedidn’tevenblink.Itmademefeelself-conscious,exceptIwasprettysureitmeanthelikedwhathesaw,whichwasgood.BecauseIlikedwhatIsawtoo.Alot
Andthensuddenlyhewasmoving.
Withoutbreakingeyecontact,heputhissorbetontothedash.Hetookmyspoonandmyicecreamoutofmyhandsandhisfingersbrushedmineinasplitsecondofelectricitybeforehesetthecartondownsomewhere.Thenheslidacrosstheseatandslippedmycheeksintohiswarmpalms,hisfingersrakedthroughthebackofmyhair,andhekissedme.
Hebarelytouchedme.Justalightbrushingofhislipsagainstmine,theslightestfeelofhisbreathonmyface.
Itshotthroughmeinmilliseconds.Thestaticcracklingbetweenusignited,andIdidexactlywhatKristensaidIshould.
Iclimbedhimlikeatree.Chapter12
Jason
?ElectricLove|B?rns
Getaroom!”
AhandthumpedonthehoodofmytruckandSloanscrambledoffmylapandpressedherbacktothepassengerdoorwithwideeyes.Wesatthereandstaredateachother,panting.
Holyshit
“Jason,Ithinkyouneedtotakemehome,”shebreathed,bitingherlip.
Iwantedtotakeherhomeallright.Iwantedtotakeherhomeandcarryherintoherbedroom.Butunfortunatelythatwasn’twhatshemeant.“Areyousure?”
Shenodded.
Idraggedmyeyestothewindshieldandgotthetruckstarted.
Thetensionbetweenusonthedrivehomewaslikethearrowofacompass,turningtotruenorth,thesamewayithadfeltinthecarwash,likeitwasworktonotlookather.Ikeptglancingoverather,andeverytimeIdid,Icaughtherlookingbackatme.
“Idon’tthinkit’sagoodideaforyoutowalkmetothedoor,”shesaidwhenIpulledintoherdriveway.“Seriously.Don’tgetout.Like,atall.”
Iputthetruckinpark.“Whataboutyoursink?”
Hercheekswerered.“Youcanfixitlaterorsomething.StayherewhileIgetTucker.”Sheletherselfoutofthetruckinsuchahurrythathersweatersnaggedonthelock.ShespuntounhookherselfandIreachedoutandputahandonherwrist.“Sloan—”
“Idon’ttrustmyselfaroundyourightnow,”shesaidquickly.
Ismiledforalongmomentatherwideeyesandpulledhersweaterfree.Shehurriedtothehouse.Shedroppedherkeystwicebeforeshegotthedooropen.
Whenshecamebackoutside,IwaiteduntilshewasalmosttothetruckandIgotout.ShestoppeddeadinhertracksandletgoofTucker’scollar.HeranuptomeandIpointed.“Getinthecar,buddy.”HejumpedintothefrontseatandIclosedthedoor,nottakingmyeyesoffher.
Hermotionsensorlightsweren’tworking.Shelookedlikeanangelinthedimstreetlight.Theskywasdarkandcloudless.Nostars.Justher,herhairlikeahalo.Thefreewaybreathedsomewhereoffinthedistanceandabreezecarriedthefaintscentofdirty,hotpavement.
Ididn’twanttosmellpavement.Iwantedtosmellher
Iwantedtogetcloseenoughtobreatheherinagain.IwalkedtowardherandforeverystepItook,shetookastepbackward.
“Ihadareallygoodtimetonight,”shesaid,bitingherlip.Herbackbumpedintothegarageandshelookedupatmelikearabbitfrozeninthegrassnearafox,tryingtodecideifitshouldstaystillorbolt.
Istoppedtwofeetshort,notwantingtocornerher.“I’dliketokissyougoodnight,Sloan.”
Shedidn’tmove,buthereyesdroppedtomymouth.
Theairbetweenusfeltcharged.
Theimprintofherstilllingeredonmyskin.Icouldfeelthepressofherthighs,theweightofhersoftbody.Herperfumeclungtomelikefingerstwistedintomyshirt,drawingmetowardheragain.
“Comehere,”Isaid,myvoicelow.
Thecommandactivatedher.Sheflewatme.
Icaughtherinaswirlofherfloralscent,andshepracticallyclimbedme.Mylipswereonhersinasecond.Warmandwet,mintandraspberriesonhertongue.Thesmellofherskindrovemefuckinginsane.Sweethoneysuckledrifteduparoundmeandensconcedus.
Ihookedahandunderthelegshehadhikedupagainstmeandliftedhersoshestraddledmywaist.Shedraggedherhandsthroughmyhairandwhenshegasped,Ilethercomeupforairandtrailedmymouthalongherjawanddownherneck
ShetiltedherheadbackandletoutasoftmoanandIalmostlostit.
Thatguyatthegasstationhadbeenright,wedidneedaroom.
Istaggeredustowardherfrontdoor.Thensuddenlyshewaswigglingawayfromme,herfeetbackontheground.Sheputherhandtomychest,makingspacebetweenus.Shepantedandherwideeyesflickeredbackdowntomylips,anditlookedforasecondlikeshemightreconsider,butinsteadshelaunchedherselfoffme,turned,andtorefullspeedintothehouse.
Thedoorslammed,theboltlockclickedbehindher,followedbytherakeofthechain,andIstoodaloneinherwalkwayforawhiplashedmomentinmyrumpledshirt,myhairamess,catchingmybreath.
JesusChrist.Whatthefuckjusthappened?
ItwaslikeI’dbeensuckedintoatornadomadeofanimalmagnetism,tossedaround,andthenspitoutaloneinfrontofherhouse.
Ihadtoadjustthefrontofmypants.
Goddamn,thiswomanhadme.Itwasmorethanjustphysical.Shefuckinghadme.Ididn’tevenwanttoleave.Ifeltlikescratchingonherdoorlikeadogwantingtobeletin.
Tuckerwhinedatthehousethroughtheopenwindowofmytruck.
“Yeah,Iknow,buddy,”Ibreathed.“IwishIwereintheretoo.”
Idrovehomeandpouredmyselfabourbon.
Sloan.
Shelikedmymusic.Ithadn’tevenoccurredtomehowmuchthatmattereduntilitcameout.Iwantedhertolikeit.Heropinionmeantsomething.Iwantedhertolikeeverythingaboutme.
Thiswasn’tjustsomewoman.I’dsuspecteditwhenwe’dbeentalkingonthephone,butnowIknewit.Thiswasbig,differentfromanythingI’deverfelt.ItwaslikethefirsttimeI’dpickedupaguitar,thatsamesenseofcertainty.
Istrippeddownforbed,climbedunderthecovers,andsatupagainstmyheadboard,mycellinmyhand.Tuckerwasalwaysthesafesttopic.Istartedtyping.
Jason:Tuckermissesyou.
Shedidn’tmakemewait.
Sloan:He’sjustclaustrophobicinthatlunchbox.Lethimout.
Ilaughed.
Jason:Ireallyenjoyedourdate.
Sloan:Metoo.
ThenIdecidedtotakearisk.
Jason:You’renotmadIkissedyou?Iknowyouhaverulesaboutfirstdates.
Alongpauseensuedbeforeshereplied.Whenthedotsstartedtojump,Isatuptowaitforhertexttocomethrough,throwingbacktherestofmywhiskey.
Sloan:I’mbeginningtothinktherulesdon’tapplytoyou.Goodnight,Jason.Chapter13
Jason
?MakeYouMine|Public
Icouldn’tgetSloanoutofmyhead,whichwasunfortunate,becauseIalsocouldn’tgetheronthephone.Shedidn’treturnmygood-morningtextuntil1:00intheafternoon,andwhenshedid,allIgotwasaquicksmileyface.
Iunpackedanddidlaundry.Hadaphonecallwithmynewpublicist,Pia,toscheduleameeting.Ihadatonofmediatodobeforemyupcomingtour.TV,radio,magazineinterviews.SiriusXMwantedanacappellarecordingbytheendoftheweekforitsCoffeeHousechannel.SaturdayNightLivewasbiting,andIhadtoauditionadrummerforthetour.TheoneI’dusedonmyalbumwasn’tabletotravel.ThenI’dhavetodorehearsalsrightupuntilhittingtheroad.
Thenextfewweeksweregoingtobeexhausting.Todaywassuchawaste.IhadnothingscheduledandIcouldhavebeenwithSloanthewholeday.
Ithadtakenmetwenty-nineyearstomeetsomeoneIwasthisinto,andwhenIfinallydid,itcouldnothavecomeataworsetime.InthreeweeksI’dbegoneforfourmonths.
I’dmeantwhatIsaid,thatsheshouldcomeseemeontheroad.ButIknewevennowthatitwouldn’tbeenough.Yesterdayhadn’tbeenenough.IwasalreadyusedtotalkingtoherandtextingherconstantlyandneitherheldacandletoseeinghernowthatI’dmether.Goingcoldturkeytodayfeltlikewithdrawals.
IplayedwithTuckerforanhour,sittingonarecliningchairbythehottub,tossingatennisballintothepool.Heseemeddepressed,andIactuallydebatedtakinghimtoStarbucksforoneofthosepuppuccinothingstocheerhimup.IthinkhemissedSloan,asentimentIwasquicklybeginningtoshare.
IshotatextofftoherwithapictureofTuckerlookingsad,hisheadonhispaws.Shedidn’treplyforoveranhour.
Sloan:Awww.Imisshim.Givehimakissforme.
Ityped,smiling.
Jason:HesaysforMEtogiveYOUakissfromHIM.Sowhatareyoudoingtoday?
Sloan:Justrunningerrands.
Itdidn’tfeellikeerrands.Shewastoodistractedtoday,almostevasive.
Forabriefmoment,Iwonderedifshewasdatingsomeoneelse.
Instantjealousy.
We’dneverdiscussedwhetherornotshewasdating.She’dbeensoopposedtodatingmeI’djustassumedshewasn’tonthemarket.ButwhatifIwaswrong?
Jason:Whatkindoferrands?
Sheleftmeonread.
Iusedthegyminthepoolhouse,tryingtodistractmyselffrommywanderingthoughtsaboutSloandatingotherpeople.NowIwasshamelesslygratefulshefoundmystagepersonasoimpressive.IneededalltheadvantagesIcouldget.
AfewhourslaterIwassittingonalawnchairinfrontofmytrailertryingoutanewcapoonmyguitarwhenErniemadehiswayacrosstheyard.
“How’smyfavoritesquatter?”Hetossedmeabeerandploppedinthechairnexttome.
Tuckerwassodepressedhedidn’tevenraisehisheadtogreethim.
Ernieloosenedhistie.“Spentmymorningwiththebloodsuckinglawyers.Shewantsheralimonyadjusted.”
Iopenedthebeerwithapith.“Whichwifeisthis?”
“Four.”Hegrinned.“ButIbroughtwifenumberfivewithmejusttopissheroff.”
Ichuckled.
Hepulledhisshoesandsocksoffandputhisfeetinthegrass.“Excitedaboutthetour?”
Thefunnythingwas,Ihadbeenexcitedaboutit.Butnow?
“Hey,whatdoyouthinkabouttakinggirlfriendsontour?”Iasked.
“Girlfriend?Whendidyougetadamngirlfriend?”Hetookadrinkofhisbeer.
“Ididn’t.It’sjustsomeoneIlike.Ilikeheralot,actually.”
“Ithoughtyouwantedtobefamous,”hesaid.“Nowyouwannahaveagirlfriendinstead?”
Ilaughed.“What,Ican’tdoboth?”
Heleanedbackinhischair.“Nope.Notifyouwannadoeitherthingwell.Thisisnotthetimetobeanchoringyourselfwithagirlfriend,myfriend.”
Ishruggedandtookasipofbeer.“I’veheadlinedtoursbefore.”
“Notlikethisyouhaven’t.You’retouringwithalabelnow.Yourentirelifeisabouttochange,andinwaysyoucan’tevenfuckingimagine.Girlfriendsarejealousanddistracting,andtheysucktheenergyfromyoursoul.Trustmeonthis.Youwon’tevenhavetimeforyou.”
Heswattedatabeebuzzingaroundhim.“Whoissheanyway?MoniqueorMonicaorwhoeverthefuck?OhGod,tellmeit’snotLola.Man,youreallyscrewedthepoochonthatone—nopunintended.Imean,Igetit,she’sfuckinghot,butdamnisshenuts.”Hetookaswallowofbeerandlookedoveratme.“Shestillcalling?”
Ilaughedalittle.“Yup.”
“She’snevergonnagiveitup.You’regonnagetaseverednippleinthemail,wakeupchainedtoabedinherbasement.”
Isnorted.“Notfunny.”
Hetippedhisbeeratme.“YouhearsheputagolfclubthroughKanye’swindshieldlastweek?Climbedthehoodandthenpissedintothecrackintheglass.She’sgonefuckingunhinged.Talentedasshitbutcompletelyoffthedeepend.”
“Yeah,Isawthat.”Ishookmyhead.“Whatthehelldoyouthinkhappenedtoher?”
Hescoffed.“She’sasuperstar,thisbusinesshappened.Thepriceoffame.Ifyouletthem,they’llbleedyouforeverydamndrop,andonceyou’redry,theytryfuckingyourcorpse.”
Ilookedoverathim.“Doyouthinkit’sdrugs?”
“Drugs,alcohol,amentalfuckingbreakdown.Whoknows?She’sbeencirclingthedrainforawhileifyouwantmyopinion.She’salwaysbeenabitofapaparazziwhore,atouchofLindsayLohan.It’sagoddamnshamesheturnedoutlikethis,though.Whatawaste.”
Iblewabreathoutthroughmynose.Ihadtoagreeaboutthewastething—mycurrentsituationwithhernotwithstanding.Lolawasbrilliant.Alyricalgenius.Inevermetanyonethatmusicallytalentedinmylife.“Youknowsheplayslikeseveninstruments?Andhasafour-octavevocalrange.Fuckingeffortless.”Ishookmyhead.“Wegotalongtoo.Shewascool—Ilikedher.”
Hesnorted.“Ibetyoudid.Thisiswhathappenswhenyoumistakecreativechemistryforactualchemistry.Ididthatonceandendedupmarriedtowifenumberthree.Worstninedaysofmylife.”
Iscoffed.“Well,tosayIregretitatthispointwouldbeanunderstatement.”
Ishookmyhead,lookingoutoverthepool.I’dspentaweekwithLolaatherbeachhousewriting,andshe’dbeenperfectlyfinethewholetime.Focused,polite.Charmingeven.We’dhititoffimmediately.We’dhadsomedrinkstocelebratefinishingthesoundtrack,andonethingledtoanother—thenitwaslikeaswitchflipped.Keepingmeupuntil5:00inthemorningwhileshewrotegibberishonlegalpads,draggingmeouttothebeachtoswimnaked,noteating.Thensleepingforawholeday,andIcouldn’tgetheroutofbed.
Ishookmyheadagain.“IwassoworriedaboutherI’dcalledhermanagertocomegether.Thatreallypissedheroff.Hegotthereandshecompletelylosthershit,startedthrowingfurnitureoffthebalcony.”
Erniesnorted.“Well,tobefair,thatguy’sadick.”Hebobbedhishead.“ActuallysoisKanye.”
Ilaughedalittle.
Thedayafterthefurniturething,theharassmentstarted,andonceitstarted,itdidn’tstop.Ididn’tknowwhatthehelltodoaboutit.Shewasrelentless.Callingallhoursofthenight,cryingandscreamingintomyvoicemail,thencallingbacktoapologize,textingnonstop,showingupatmyrecordingstudioandcausingsceneswhenIwouldn’tbuzzherin.NothingIdidwouldmakeherbackoff.I’dresortedtoignoringher,hopingshe’deventuallygetbored,butallsheevergotwasnewphonenumbers.
“God,whatwasIthinking?”Imumbled.
“Youweren’t.Andthatsong.Idon’tknowifIshouldfeelsorryforyouorcongratulateyouforyoursexualprowess.”Ernieheldupanindexfinger.“Youfuckedheronetime,andshe’simmortalizeditintheTopTen.”Hesatbackandlaughedintohisbeer.
Myjawflexed.“I’mgladsomebodythinksit’sfunny.”
Lolahadwrittenafucked-up,piece-of-shitsongaboutushavingsexonabeach.Itwaseverywhere.IthadevenpoppedupinthetruckwithSloanduringthecarwash.
Shedidn’tusemyrealname.Shecalledme“SnowBird,”andshe’dneverpubliclyconfirmeditwasaboutme,butitmademefuckingfurious.Thethingwaslikealeakedsextapesettomusic.Igrimacedeventhinkingaboutit.That’sthemomentwhenmyconcernforherfinallyturnedtoirritation.Ithadbeenhalfayearofthisshitnow,andIwasofficiallyoverit.
Ernieundidthetopbuttonofhisshirt.“Sowhendidyoumeetthisgirlyou’rethinkingoftakingontour?”
“Twoweeksago.Isawherforthefirsttimeyesterday.”
Hesatup.“Areyoufuckinginsane?”
Ishrugged.“What?Ilikeher.”
Hesethisbeerdownandfacedme.“Here’sthedeal.ListencloselybecauseI’mabouttotellyousomethingthattookmefivemarriagestofigureout.Ittakesawomansixmonthstoshowyouhercrazy.Sixmonths,myfriend.Idon’trecommendevertakingagirlfriendontour,butifyouabsolutelymust,itshouldbesomeoneyou’veknownlongerthantenminutes.”
Ilaughed.
“I’mnotkidding.Listentome,you’rethinkinglikeJasonrightnow.JasonlikesthisgirlandJasonwantstotakeherontourandJason’sallfuckingtwitterpated.YoucannotbeJasonatthispointinyourcareer.YouneedtobeJaxon.Jaxonisastone-coldmotherfuckerwhowantstosellrecords.Jaxondoesn’thavetimefortheemotionalbaggagethatcomeswiththatshit.Fameisajealousmistress.Shedoesn’tliketoshare.”Heshookhishead.“Donotaskthatwomantocomewithyou.Infact,youshouldprobablystopseeingher.”
“Yeah,I’mnotgoingtodothat.”Itippedmybeerintomymouth.
Hesighed.“Well,Ican’tsaythatsurprisesme.You’regonnadowhatyou’regonnado.AndwhatdoIknow,right?”Hepickeduphisbeerandstoppedwithithalfwaytohismouth.“Justplease,useafuckingNDAandcondoms.Don’tenduplikethatlastidiot.Whatafuckingshitshow.”
Ichuckled.“Stillpissedaboutwhat’s-his-face,huh?”
“Hey,Ifiredhim.”
Ilaughed.IlovedErnie.Hewasoneofthebestagentsintheindustry.He’dbeenabig-namemusicianhimselfintheeighties,sohe’dseenitall.Hewasalittlecynicalwhenitcametowomen,though.
Icheckedmyphone.Sloanstillhadn’ttexted.Istaredoutoverthepool.“Thisgirlfeelsdifferent.”
“Theyallfuckingfeeldifferent.Seeifyoufeelthesamewaynextyearwhenyou’vebeenontheoverseaslegofyourtourforsixmonthsandshe’seitherbackhereridingyourassorwithyouontheroadandridingyourassthere.Youdonotneedthatshit,I’mtellingyou.”
Idrewmybrowsdown.“Wait,what?Whatoverseastour?”
Hegavemearaisedeyebrow.“Didn’tyougettheemailwiththedates?Eh,Christ,myassistantisshit.”Heshookhishead.“They’reextendingyourtourtotheUK.Addingtwomoremonthshere,eightmonthsthere.Pia’sworkingonthemediablastsnow.You’llbehomefortheholidaysforfiveweeks.”Helookedoveratme.“You’rewelcomeforthat,bytheway.TheywantedyousinginginParisfortheirChristmasthingandItoldthemtogofuckthemselvessoyoucouldseeyourfamily.Theymightevenkeepthatpromise,thoughIwouldn’tcountonit,”hemumbled.“Theywouldn’tputitinwriting.Thenyou’reofftoDublinandLondonandwhereverthefuckelse.”Hetippedhisbeeratme.“Congratulationsandlonglivethequeen.”
Isatbackinmychairwithmybeerbetweenmyknees.“Jesus.Fourteenmonthsontheroad?”I’dneverdonemorethanthreewithoutalongbreakbetween.
“Itoldyou.Notagoodtimetohaveagirlfriend.They’regonnaworkyoutowithinaninchofyourlife.YousaidyouwannabeDonHenleyfamousandthisisdefinitelythelabeltogetyouthere,buttheydonotfuckaround.”
Idraggedahanddownmymouth.Well,itwaswhatIwanted.I’ddreamedofmakingitsinceIwasfiveandI’dworkedmyassofftogethere.Erniewasright,though,thetimingsucked.Thetimingreallysucked.
Heglancedathiswatch.“Igottagetgoing.”Hestoodandturnedtome.“Hey,Idon’tmeantobeadowneraboutthegirlfriendthing.I’msureit’llallworkoutandyou’llridehappilyintothesunset.I’vejustbeenaroundtheblockafewtimesandI’veseenhowhardthisbusinessisonrelationships.”Heslappedmyback.“Butyouguysaredifferent.Youtwoaregonnabefine.Justdon’ttakeherontour.”
Ilaughed,andErniemadehiswaybacktothehouse,hisshoesdanglingfromhisfingers.“Don’ttakeherontour,Jaxon!”heyelledoverhisshoulder.
Fuck,Ididn’tseehowIcouldevenifIwantedto.Fourteenmonths,minusthelittlebreakfortheholidays—thatwasoverayearontheroad.Thatwasacommitment.Ahugecommitment.Aleave-your-life-behindcommitment.
ButIwasgettingaheadofmyself.AtthemomentIcouldn’tevengetadamntextback.
ForthenextfewhoursIjustfiddledwithmyguitar,keepingmyphonecloseincaseSloancalled—whichshedidn’t.Finallyat8:00IbitthebulletandIjustcalledher,eventhoughshehadn’trespondedtomylasttext.
Itwenttovoicemail.
NowIfeltbadforeverywomanI’deverlefthanging,waitingforaphonecall.Thisshitsucked.
TuckerandIwerequitethepair.Iwasbroodingandirritableandhewouldn’tgetupexcepttoraisehisheadoccasionallyandwhine.
Whenmyphonefinallyrangat10:30,Ijumpedforit.ItwasSloan.Anythoughtsofgivingherahardtimeformakingmewaitalldayflewoutthewindow.“Hey,you’realive.”Ismiledintomyphone.
Buttherewasnoreply.ThenIheardcrying.
Istood.“Sloan?Areyouokay?”
“Jason.”Shesniffed.
Shewasdrunk.Nomistakingtheslurinhervoice.
“Sloan,whereareyou?”
“Home.”
Ibreathedasighofreliefthatshewasn’tdrivingorsomewhereunsafe.
“Jason?Iwasthinkingaboutyoutoday.”
IfelttheweightI’dcarriedalldayinmychestlift.“Iwasthinkingaboutyoutodaytoo,”Isaidgently.
“Youdon’twantme,okay?”
“What?”
“Youdon’t.Trustme,youdon’t.I’mmessy.I’mamess.I’minanin-between.”
Ismiledsoftly.“Ilikeyourmess.”
Shedidn’treply.
“Sloan?”
“Canyoucomeover?”
Iwasinmotionbeforeshefinishedhersentence.Igrabbedabackpackandstartedthrowingthingsintoit,cradlingthephonewithmyshoulder.“I’monmyway.Sloan?Youhavetounlockthefrontdoor.Doitnow,whileI’monthephone.”
“Mmmkay,”shesaid.AfewmomentslaterIheardthesoundofaboltlockbeingturned.
“I’mgettinginmytrucknow.I’llbethereintenminutes.”Tuckerjumpedinthecabwithanenthusiasmthatcouldonlycomefromknowingwherewewereheaded.
“Jason?”shesaidasIpulleddownthedriveway.Shewascryingagain.“Youmakemewanttocookforyou.”
Ismiledatthecompliment.Iunderstoodwhatthatmeanttohertosaythat.Thenthelinewentdead.
Shedidn’tanswerwhenIcalledback.
TenminuteslaterIpulledintoherdrivewayandjoggedtothefrontporch.Tuckerhadhisnosepressedintothecrackofthedoor,andwhenitopened,hetoreintothehouselikehewasretrievingaduck.ButIstoppedinthedoorwaywithmymouthopen.
Thelivingroomlookedlikeatornadohadgonethroughit.Blacktrashbagseverywhereandstacksofmen’sclothingstrewnalloverthefloor.Aknocked-overlampandhangersinapile,men’sshoesscatteredonthecarpet.
Brandon’sclothes.
Atumblersatinasmallclearspotinthemiddleofthemesswithanemptybottleoftequilaandwadsofballed-uptissuesnexttoit.
IfollowedTucker’sexcitednoisesthroughabedroomandintoanadjacentbathroom.Sloanlaycrumpledbythetoiletonawhitefloormat,hercellphonenexttoher.Icrouchedbesideherandputahandonhershoulder.“Sloan?Canyouhearme?”
Shegroaned,butshedidn’topenhereyes.Isighedandscratchedmybeard.Completelywasted.
Igotadampwashclothandcleanedherface.She’dbeensickatleastonce.Iflushedthetoiletandwipedtheseatwithtoiletpaper.
She’dthrownupinherhair.Iliftedherandmovedhertorestagainstthebathtub,pushinghershowercurtainaside.Acottonballwastapedtotheinsideofherelbowlikeshe’dhadbloodtaken.Ipeeledthatoffandthrewitaway.Jesus,whathadshebeendoingtoday?
Imanagedtowashherhairwithacupbylettingitfalloverthelipintothetub.Tuckersatinthebathroomdoorwaywatchingtheactivity.HeseemedtoknowIwashelpingher.Atonepointshestartedtocough,andIturnedhertothetoiletandheldherhairbackwhileshethrewupagain.
Shemutteredsomeapologies,vaguelyawareIwasthere.Thenshewentbackunder.
Itowel-driedherhairandbrusheditbackasbestIcould,pullingitintoamessyponytailandcarryinghertobed.Shenuzzledherfaceintomyneckandclutchedmyshirtandmyheartpounded.Ihadtolaugh.Evensloppydrunk,thiswomanhadme.
TuckerjumpedupandsnugglednexttoherasItuckedherin.Shethrewanarmaroundhimandhuggedhimtoherwithasoft,“Tucker…”
Nowonderhewasdisappointedtobehomewithme.IfIgottosleeplikethateverynight,I’dbepissedtobebackwithmetoo.
Iwalkedthroughthehouseandlockedup,turningofflightsandcollectingtheemptybottleandtumbler,steppingaroundpilesofherdeadfiancé’spersonaleffects.Igotabucketfromthegarageandaglassofwaterforherandleftthembythebed.Icollectedherphonefromthebathroomfloortoplugintothechargeronhernightstand,droppingafewpillsnexttoherwaterforthemorning.She’dneedthem.
AfterwardIwentouttomytruckandgotthepartsforhersink.IwentaboutfixingitsoIcouldwashthedishes,checkingbackinonherwhenitwasdone.Shesleptpeacefully.
AlargephotographofSloanhungoverherbed.Icouldn’tstoplookingatit.Itwasaportraitofherfromtheside,nakedandbalancingontheballsofherfeet,withhertattooedarmcoveringherbreasts.Itlookedlikeaprofessionalphoto,onefromatattoomagazine.Maybeshe’ddonemodelingbefore.Godknowsshewasgood-lookingenough.Itwasafantasticshot.
Pictureslinedherdresser.Mostlyherandanotherwoman,whoIassumedwasKristen.Sloanlookedlikethecolorfuloneofthetwo,eventhoughIknewshewasmoreconservativethanherfriend.OneframeshowedthematDisneylandwearingMickeyMouseears.AnotherwasthemoutsidethePantagesTheatrewithaWickedposterbehindthem.
TherewerephotosofBrandontoo.IrecognizedhimfromthepictureonTheHuntsman’sWife.He’dbeenagood-lookingguy.HeandSloanhadmatched.
HehadaMarineCorpstattooonhisforearm.InonepictureheworeaT-shirtthatreadBURBANKFIREDEPARTMENTonit.TherewasaphotoofhimwithSloanonabeach,standinginthesurf.AnotheroneinaToughMudderframeshowedhimwithSloan,racingbibspinnedtotheirshirts.Sheworeknee-highsocksandpigtails,smiling,coveredinmud.
Itwasridiculoustofeeljealousofamanwho’dbeendeadfortwoyears,butIdid.IwonderedhowImeasuredup.Iwasaverydifferentpersonthanhewas.Justfromthesephotos,Icouldseewehadlivedverydifferentlives.
Iwentbackouttothelivingroomandlaydownonthecouchtospendthenightincasesheneededmyhelp.
WhowasIkidding?IwasstayingbecauseIwantedtostay.
Somethingmusthavereallyaffectedhertoday,andIwonderedifIhadanythingtodowithit.She’dsaidshe’dbeenthinkingaboutme.Ithoughtaboutwhatshesaidearlieronthephone,thatshewasinanin-between.Ididn’tcarewhereshewas.
Iwantedtobetherewithher.Chapter14
Sloan
?MaybeYou’retheReason|TheJapaneseHouse
IwokeupwishingIhaddiedinmysleep.Myheadfeltlikeatomatothathadbeendroppedfromasecond-storybuilding.
Ifeltblindlyalongmynightstandformyphonetocheckthetime.Myeyeswerepuffyfromcrying,andmyfingersknockedintoaglassofwater.Icrackedaneyeopen.
TwoAdvilssatonthenightstand.Myphonewasonthechargerat100percent.Abucketwasonthefloornexttothebed.
IprayedithadbeenKristen.Iscouredmyblank,foggy,hungovermemoryforadrunkencalltoKristen.Hell,I’devensettleforJosh.ButthenIsawTuckercurledupontheothersideofthebedandIgroaned.Ilookedatmylastcall,squintingattheimpossiblybrightscreen.I’ddrunkdialedJason.
I.Drunk.Dialed.Jason.
Ileanedbackontomypillowandputanarmovermyface.
Hewouldn’thavelefthisdoghere.AtleastIdidn’tthinkhewouldhavesincehe’djustgottenhimback,soIwasprettysureJasonwassomewhereinthehouse.
Isatupgingerly,tryingnottojostlemyhead.Idownedthewaterandthepills,holdingtheglasswithbothhands.ThenIstumbledtothebathroomandtookthelongestpeeofmylife.Ibrushedmyteeththreetimes,practicallydrankmouthwash,andturnedontheshower.WhenIwenttopullmyhairfromitsponytail,Irealizedwithhorrorthatitwasdamp.
Someonehadwashedmyhair.
Jasonhadwashedmyhair.
SweetJesus,justletmedie.
AfterI’dshowered,justtoprolongtheinevitableawkwardfirstencounterwithJasonsincethehairwashing,Iturnedonthefaucetandranabubblebath.
ThankGodformynewwaterheater.
IfoldedacoldwetwashclothovermyeyesandsatinthetubwithTuckercurledupontheshaggybathroommat.
Someonetappedonthedoor.
“Sloan?MindifIcomein?Ihaveyourcoffee.”
Jason.
Thelockonmybathroomdoorwasbroken,likeeveryotherstupidfreakingthinginthehouse.Ugh.
“Thedoor’sunlocked,”Imumbled.Thebubbleshadmecoveredfromtheneckdown.Idraggedthewashclothfrommyeyesandlolledmyheadtowardthedoor.
Jasonlethimselfin,leadingwithaStarbuckscup.“Ifiguredyouwouldn’twanttowaitforthis,”hesaid,lookingatthewall.
“Thankyou,”Irasped.“Youcanlook.I’mcovered.”
Heturnedtomeandputthecoffeeinmyhand.Then,insteadofleaving,heputthetoiletseatliddownandsatonit,grinningatme.
Ismelledthetopofthecup.Ididn’tcarewhatkinditwas.Itwascoffee.IfeltacaffeineheadachelurkingbehindmyhangoverandI’dtakeanything.Itookasip,closingmyeyes.Sweetnectarofthegods,itwasmydrink!Atriplegrandevanillalatte.Howdidheknow?
“Isawanoldcupbyyoureasel.Thedrinkwaswrittenontheoutside,”heexplained.“WhenIheardtheshowergoon,Iranouttogetitforyousoitwouldstillbehot.”
IthinkIfelljustalittlebitinlovewithhiminthatmoment.IgotamurkyvisionoftellingourgrandchildrenaboutthedayGrandmaalmostdrankherselftodeathandGrandpasavedherwithespresso.
“ThisisthebestthingI’veevertasted,”Isaid,myvoicehuskyinawaythattoldmeI’dbeenvomiting.
“Howareyoufeeling?”
Deathly?Mortified?Heartsick?
“I’vefeltbetter.”
JasonworeagrayMuseT-shirtandjeans.Heleanedforwardwithhiselbowsonhisknees,hissky-blueeyessearchingmyface.Iwaspuffyandhungoverandthistalented,sexymanhadjustbroughtmemyfavoritecoffeeafterspendinganightwashingbarfoutofmyhair.
JaxonWaterswashedbarfoutofmyhair.
Iwastoosickfortheembarrassmenttotrulysettleinmybones.IacceptedthisinformationwithashallowunderstandingofhowfuckedupitallwasandtheknowledgethatI’ddwellonitobsessivelylaterwhileapplyingtheappropriatemortification.
Thiswastheendforus,Iwassureofit.HehadprobablystuckaroundtomakesureIdidn’tchoketodeathonmyownvomit.Nowthathe’dseenthatIwasalive,he’dcollecthisdogandleave,andI’dneverseehimagain.
Iwasadisaster,damaged,ahotmess,andnowhetrulyknewit.Mylivingroomwascoveredinmydeadfiancé’sclothing,becauseyes,aftertwoyearsIstillhadallhisclothes.I’dcalledJasonwhilesloppydrunkandsaidGodonlyknewwhat.Whatwastheretolike?
“I’llmakeyousomebreakfast,”hesaid,pushinguponhisknees.“Takeyourtime.”
Then,tomyshock,heleaneddownand,withthebiggestgrin,hetippedmychinupandkissedme.
“DidyoutaketheAdvil?”hewhispered,hoveringjustaboveme,lookingatmewithanamusedsmile.
“Um,yeah?”
“Good.”Andhekissedmeagain,lingeringforamoment.Thenhewinkedandwalkedoutofthebathroom.
“Oh.My.God,”Ibreathed,grabbingformywashclothanddraggingitbackovermyface.
Ifinallycameouthalfanhourlater,wearingasweatshirtandleggings,nomakeup,wrappedinablanketandholdingthebucketJasonleftbymybedinazero-fucks-giveneffortatnotlookingthewayIfelt.IfiguredI’dgonethisfar,whynotgoallin?
Jasonsatwaitingonthesofa.Hisfacelitupwhenhesawme.
Thescenewasalmostironic.IwouldhavelaughedifIstilldidn’tfeelsocrappy.TherewasJason,surroundedbyanoceanofBrandon’sthings,tryingtobeapartofmyridiculous,saduniverse.Andthefunnythingwasallthischaoswasforhim
Afterourdateandthekissing—which,let’sbehonesthere,wassooutofthisworldithadprobablyruinedmeforallothermen—ithadoccurredtomethatatsomepoint,Imightwanttoinvitehimhome.ThatifIeverwantedtoaskhiminside,he’dspendthenightinmyroomandusemybathroom.
ThenIlookedatmylifethroughJason’seyes,andallIsawwasBrandon.Brandon’sclothesinthecloset,Brandon’stoothbrushstillinthebathroom.Thelastbeerhehad,stillsittingonhisworkbenchinthegarage,evaporatedandempty.AndIthoughtaboutwhatKristenhadsaid,aboutmylifebeingashrinetohim,andIrealizedIwasstilllivingwithanotherman.
Andthatmanwasn’tevercominghome.
Soforthetwo-yearanniversaryofhisdeath,Ididthehealthything.Ipaidmyvisittohisgrave,gavebloodinhismemory,andstartedcleaning.Iputonsomeupbeatmusicandtriedtomakeitsomethingpositive.
Thingshadstartedwell.IpackedupallBrandon’shuntinggearandbroughtittoJosh.Thathadbeeneasy.Iknewthat’swhatBrandonwouldhavewantedmetodowithit.ThenIthrewawayhistoiletriesandclearedoutthemedicinecabinet.
ButwhenIstartedonhisclothes,thesituationwentsouth.
Someofhisclothesstillsmelledlikehim,andtheyremindedmeofplaceswe’dbeentogether.LiketheT-shirthepickedupinVeniceBeachonourseconddate,andthejacketheworewhenwerentedthatcabininBigBearthatonewinter.IstartedapileforafewitemsIwantedtokeep,thingsthathadsentimentalvalueforme,andafterawhilethatpilewasbiggerthanthedonationpile.
SoIgrabbedsometequila,hadashotofliquidcourage,andstartedmovingitemsfromthekeeppileintotrashbags.AndIwasactuallygettingthroughit,untilIfoundareceiptinthepocketofhisfavoritejeans.AreceiptfromLuigi’s,thestupidItalianplaceinCanogaParkweliked.Thelastplaceweatetogether.
That’swhenI’dlostit.Therestofthenightwasalotofdrinking,crying,and,asevidencedbyJason’spresenceinmylivingroom,drunkdialing.
Isatonthesofawithhimandcrossedmylegsunderme.Tuckerjumpedupnexttomeandputhisheadinmylap.
Jasonsmiled,handingmeaweirdsilverpackagefromthecoffeetable.“Breakfast.”
Iwrinkledmyforehead.“Isthis…campingfood?”ThepackagereadBackpacker’sPantry,granolawithmilkandbananas.Itwaswarm.
Hehandedmeaspoon.“Thisismyfavoriteoatmeal.Ibuyitbythecase.It’sgreatforahangover.Plus,nodishes.”
NodisheswasgoodsinceIstilldidn’thaveaworkingkitchensink.Thetopofthebaghadazipperseal.Iprieditopenandtastedit.“Thisisn’thalf-bad,”Iadmitted.“I’veneverhadactualcampingfoodbefore.”
“You’veneverbeencamping?”
“Well,yes.Butwedrivein.There’sanelectricalhookupandrunningwater.Webringacooleroffoodandwepluginthegriddleandcookonit.”
Helookedamused.“That’snotreallycamping.That’shangingoutoutside.”
“Oh,Iforgot.You’reacampingpurist.”Ismiledweakly,myheadthrobbing.Iclosedmyeyesasamildwaveofnausearippledthroughme,andIletoutabreaththroughmynose.
“You’llfeelbetterinafewhours,”Jasonsaidbehindthespinningdarknessofmyeyelids.
“So,whatelsedoyoucook?”Iasked,pickingupmybagofoatmealagain.
“Grillingandboilingwaterfordehydratedfoodareaboutallthat’sinmywheelhouse.”
“Oh.Well,ifyoucanboilwater,youcanmakecoffee.”
“Imakeamazingcoffee,”hesaid.“IuseaFrenchpress.”
“Oooh,nowyou’respeakingmylovelanguage.Say‘Frenchpress’again,”Imumbled.
Heleanedoverandputhislipsnexttomyear.“Frenchpresssss,”hewhispered.
Igavehimseriousside-eye.Ifthishangoverdidn’tkillme,hisshamelessflirtingwasgoingtofinishthejob.
“Hey,thankyou,”Isaid,afteraminute.
Hesmiledatme.“Forwhat?”
“Forcoming.Fortakingcareofme.Fornotletting…”Ilookedaroundtheroomatthemess.“Fornotlettingthischangethings.”
Hedidn’tlookattheclothes.Hiseyesneverleftmine.“Well,wehaveadatetoday.Iwaitedalldayyesterdayforit.Nowaywasanythinggoingtostopmefromseeingthatthrough.”
“Jason,Ican’tgoanywheretoday.Ifeellikecrap.”
“No,thedate’shere.We’reonitnow.IDchannelandchill.”
Ilaughed,andthesoremusclesinmystomachremindedmeI’dspentthenightbarfing.
JasonpickeduptheremoteandturnedontheTV.
God,hewaswonderful
***
FourhoursintoIDchannelandchillandhe’donlyheldmyhand.Besidesthosequickkissesinthebathtub,hehadn’ttriedtomakeamoveonme.Idon’tknowifthiswasduetomyhangoverortheoveractiveflightinstinctsI’dshownhimonthenightofourfirstkiss,buthekeptasafedistance.Ithinkheknewthatifhepouncedme,I’dprobablymakehimleave.Hewasright.Andoddly,hisreservedbehaviorjustmadememorecomfortable,anditkindofmademewanttopouncehim
Iwonderedifthatwasastrategy…
Myhangoverfeltamilliontimesbetter.Isatwithmylegscrossednexttohimonthesofa,andmykneejusttouchedhisthigh.Itwassuchasmallcontact,butithadbeensendingboltsofelectricitythroughmeforthelasthour.
Beingwithhiminpersonfeltjustasnaturalandeasyasitdidonthephone—exceptwithsexualtension.
Itwaslikewecouldn’tlookatanythingotherthaneachotherformorethanafewminutesatatime.Ourfaceskeptturningbacktoeachother,andfinallywejustkindofgaveupandignoredtheshowandtalkedinstead.Tohiscredit,hedidn’tseemtocarehowIlookedatthemomentandheappearedtobeperfectlyhappyjustsittingtherewithmeinsteadofonadatedoingsomethingmoreexciting.
Hisphonechirped,andhepickeditupandfrowned.
“Everythingokay?”Iasked.
“Ijusthavealotofpromotingtodo.Ernieemailedmyscheduleforthisweek.Ihavetomeetwithmypublicisttomorrow,andErnie’sfoundmeapersonalassistantformytour.”
“Soyou’rebusytomorrow?”
“Ihavethatmeetingtomorrowateleven,thenaphotoshootrightafterward.ButI’dlovetoseeyouforbreakfastordinner.Orboth.”
“Both,huh?”Isaid,tryingnottosoundassatisfiedashissuggestionmademefeel.
Hismouthdrewupononesideandheputahandonmyknee.Mystomachsomersaulted.“IfIwanttoseeyou,I’mgoingtoasktoseeyou.”
“Andyouwanttoseemetwiceinoneday?”Iteased.
“No.I’dratherspendthewholedaywithyou.”
NowIhadthegracetoblush.
“Hey,Ireallylikethatphotoofyouoveryourbed,”hesaid,sittingbackagainstthesofa,givingmeagrin.
Iraisedaneyebrowathim.“I’mnakedinthat.”
“I’maphotographyenthusiast.I’minterestedinitforpurelyartisticreasons.”
“Uh-huh,I’llbet.”Itwistedmylipsintoapleasedsmile.ThatparticularimagewassomethingIwasproudofforreasonshedidn’tseemtorealize.Idecidednottotellhimjustyet.Maybehewouldfigureitout.Thefactthathelikedit,anddidn’tknowwhatitwas,wasahugecomplimentonmanylevels.
Istretched.“Wantsomethingtodrink?”WehadapizzacomingandIhadbeenahorriblehostess.Ihadn’tgottenoffthesofaoncesincewestartedourmurdermarathon.
“Sure.Justwater.”
Igotupandwalkedintothekitchenandfroze.Thekitchenwasputbacktogether.Thefansweregone,andthecountersandfloorhadbeencleaned.
Openmouthed,Iwenttothesinkandpeekedintothecabinetunderneath.Everythingwasputneatlyaway,andashinynewpipeandknobhadbeeninstalled.Iclosedthedoorsandturnedonthewater.Itran.Thedisheshadbeenwashed.Mytequilaglasssatupsidedowninthesink,dryingontherack.
Gratitudepulsedthroughme.
WhenIcameout,IhandedJasonhiswaterandnudgedhiskneewithmine.“Youfixedthekitchen.”
“IsaidIwould.”Hesethisglassonacoaster.
“I’dliketocookyoudinnertomorrow.”
Agrincreptacrosshishandsomeface.“I’dlovethat.”
Hekeptbeamingupatme.
“What?”Iasked.
“It’sjustsomethingyousaidtomeonthephonelastnight.”
“OhGod,what?”Isaidwithhorror.
Hetwistedhislipsintoasmirk.
“Tellme.”
“YousaidImakeyouwanttocookforme.”
Ugh.Drunkmehadnobusinessputtingthatoutthereforsoberme.Shewassuchagossip.
Ifloppeddownnexttohim.“Well,thankGoditwasonlythat.”
“Whatelsecouldithavebeen?”
“Noclue.IhavenoaccesstothemindofdrunkSloan.Thatwomanisastrangertome.”
“Sowhatdidyoudoyesterday?”heasked,puttingtheTVonmute.
IhadhopedIwouldn’thavetogetintomydayyesterday.IthadseemedlikemaybewewerejustgoingtositamongtheremnantsofBrandon’slifeandignoreit.Thatwouldhavebeenmypreference.Butnosuchluck.AndJasonhaddonemorethanenoughtoearntherighttoask.
“Brandondiedtwoyearsagoyesterday,”Isaid.“Ivisitedhisgrave.Igaveblood.AndthenIcamehomeanddecidedtofinallygothroughhisstuff.”
Jason’seyestookonalookofunderstanding.“Thatmusthavebeenverydifficultforyou.”
“Itwas.Itis.Butit’stime.”Chapter15
Jason
?IWantItAll|COIN
Sloankickedmeoutlastnightat7:00.Shesaidshehadsomethingssheneededtodo.IthinkshewasgoingtofinishpackingupBrandon’sclothes.I’dhaveofferedtohelp,butitdidn’treallyfeellikemyplace.
Ididn’tlikeleavingher.Iknewitwascrazy,butIhonestlywantedtosleeponhercouchagain,justtobenearher.ItfeltlikeIwassupposedtobenearher.
MyMinnesotatripwasthedayaftertomorrow,andIwasn’tgoingtoseeherthewholeweekend.Fuck.
I’dbeenonmybestbehavioryesterday,holdingbackfromkissingherthewayIreallywantedto,becauseIknewifthingsescalatedliketheyhadtheothernightafterourfirstdate,she’dkickmeout.ThelastthingIwantedwastolosemynewfoundhouseprivileges.IdecidedIwouldonlykissherontheporch,comingandgoing,untilshewasreadyformore.
Itwasn’teasy.
Shewouldn’tseemeforbreakfastthismorning,anotherdisappointment.Shesaidshehadthingstodo.Ilookedforwardtodinner,though.HavingTheHuntsman’sWifecookforyouwasanhonorofthehighestdegree.
ItwasabrutalhourandahalfintraffictodowntownLA.IcalledSloanafterIcheckedinatthefrontdeskatmypublicist’soffice.
Sloananswered,talkingtosomeoneelseinthebackground.“What?Uh,no.Butthanks.”Shesoundedamused.
“Whowasthat?”Iasked,thinkingmaybeshewaswithKristen.
IsatinthewaitingareadrinkingaFijiWater.Theentireplacewaswhite.Eventhereceptionistworewhite.FramedphotosofPiawithherfamousclientsweretheonlypopsofcoloronthewalls.
“Ihavenoideawhothatwas.IthinkIjustgothiton,”shesaid,disbeliefinhervoice.
“Whatdidhesaytoyou?”
“Itwasweird.”
Isatup.“Wasitinappropriate?”
“What?No.”Shelaughed.“Heaskedmeformynumber.ThenhesaidifIdon’tgiveittohim,himandhisfriendsaregoingtosing‘You’veLostThatLovin’Feelin’’?Idon’tgetit.”
Isnorted.“Wastheguywearingnavaldresswhites,bychance?”
“Howdidyouknow?”
“You’veneverseenTopGun?”
“No.”
Ishookmyheadwithachuckle.“Well,Iknowwhatwe’rewatchinglater.Sowhatareyoudoingtoday?”Iasked,puttingmyankleovermyknee,leaningbackintothecouch.Icheckedmywatch.Myappointmentwasn’tforanothertenminutes.
“I’matthecarwashrightnow.ThenIhavetogotoVonstogetstufftomakedinner…”
“Andwhat’sfordinner?”
“I’mthinkingchickenProven?al?Ihavetoseehowtheproducelooks.AndthenIneedtogotothemall.”
“Themall?Forwhat?”
Shepaused.“Just…something.”
Shewasbeingevasive,somyinterestimmediatelyspiked.“Something?”
“I’mnottellingyou.It’sbetweenTuckerandme.HeandIarenotfriendsrightnow.”
I’dleftTuckeratSloan’shouselastnightsinceIwasgoingtobegonealldaytodayandIwasgoingovertherelateranyway.Besides,helikeditbetterthere,andIdidn’tblamehim.
“Really?Ithoughthewasanangel.”
Shescoffed.“TurnsoutIwaswrongaboutthat.”
“Whatdidhedo?Givemeahint.”
“Hejust…Heatesomethingheshouldn’thaveeaten.”
FuckingTucker.
“CanIpaytoreplaceit?”
Shelaughed.“No,definitelynot.Igotit.He’sgoingtospendafewhoursindoggyprisonthinkingaboutwhathe’sdone.”
“Doggyprison?”
“Thelaundryroom.It’snotGuantanamoBaylikethecrate,butit’lldo.”
Shewasnevergoingtostopgivingmeshitaboutthecrate.“Okay,nowyoureallyhavetotellme.”
Shesighedintothephone.“Yourdog—”
“Mydog?Ithoughtwewerecoparenting?”
Icouldtellshewassmilingbythepause.“No,he’sdefinitelyyourdogtoday.Yourdogateabouttwodozenpairsofmyunderwear.”
Myburstoflaughtermadethereceptionistlookupfromherwhitedesk.
“He’sbeenpullingthemoutofthedirtyclothesbasketeverydaytochewthemupandstashthemunderthebed.Ifoundhishoardthismorning.Iwonderedwheretheyweregoing…”
Iwaslaughingtoohardtorespond.
Shehuffed.“YourbestfriendisapervertandIfeellikeyou’renottakingthisseriously.”
“Well,Ican’treallysayIblamehim.Hehasexcellenttaste,”Isaid,pinchingthebridgeofmynose,stillchuckling.“Sowhatstoreareyougoingto?”
“ThelingeriedepartmentatNordstrom.”
Ilookedupandarchedaneyebrow.“IthinkIshouldbeallowed,asaresponsibledogowner,toreplacethesedamageditems.I’llneedtoapproveeverything,ofcourse,forinsurancepurposes.Dressingroompictureswouldbebest.Infact,weshouldprobablySkype.”
“Youknow,I’vealreadyforgivenTuckerforeverythinghe’lleverdo.You?Notsomuch.”
“What?HowamIthebadguyinthis?HereIam,justtryingtomakeyouwhole…”
“Uh-huh.”
“Ilikered,bytheway.”
Shesnorted.“Whatmakesyouthinkthatyou’reevergoingtoseemyunderwear?”
Igrinned.“Unwavering,unrelentingpersistence?”
“Speakingofpersistence,”shemumbled.
“Sailorboy’sstillthere?”Iasked,noddingbackatayogapants–cladJenniferLawrencecomingoutofthefloor-to-ceilingfrosteddoorsofPia’soffice.
“Yeah,he’ssmilingatme,standingbyagiantbubblegummachine.”
“Tellhimyouhaveaboyfriend,”Isaid.
“MightworkbetterifItellhimIhaveagirlfriend,”shewhispered.
MymindflickeredtoSloankissinganotherwoman.“Thatwilldefinitelynotworkbetter.”
Shelaughed.
Mysuggestionmademerealizethatdespiteourtwodates,Sloandidn’thaveaboyfriend.Ihadnoclaimonherbesidesjustbeingsomeguyshewastalkingto.ShecouldgivethismanhernumberandIcouldn’tsayanythingaboutit
Ididn’tlikethat.Atall
“Whoa,there’smoreofthem,”shesaid.“OhmyGod,Iwonderifthey’regoingtoactuallydoit.Theyseemtobegathering.There’slikefiveofthemnowandthey’rehuddled.Theremustbeanavyrecruitingstationaroundhere.”
“Doesthishappenoften?”Iasked.
“What?Navalofficers?”
“Yougettinghiton.”
“Actually,yeah,lately.It’sweird.”
Imovedthephoneawayfrommymouth.Ididn’tlikethateither.Andtherewasnothingweirdaboutit.Shewasbeautiful.Ofcourseothermennoticedit.
Ichangedthesubject.“So,didTuckerdestroyanyotherlingerie?Ifeellikeheprobablydidandwe’llneedtogetsomereplacements.”
“Oh,haha.”Thenshegroaned.
“Thenavalcrewstillthere?”
“Yup.”
“Canyougooutside?Getawayfromthem?”
“Ican,butI’llhavetohangupwithyou.It’sreallyloudoutthere.”
“No,don’thangupwithme,”Isaid.
“They’returningaround.Theyjustlookedatme,”shewhispered.“Oneofthemjustwaved.”
Idraggedmyhanddownmyface.“Areyoutryingtomakemejealous?”
“No,”shelaughed.“Why?Areyougettingjealous?”
“Ofcourse.”Isaiditlikeajoke,butitwasn’t.
“Youdon’thaveanythingtoworryabout,”shesaid.
“Why?Navyguyisn’tyourtype?”
“No,he’skindofcute,actually.It’sjustthatI’mreallyintothisotherguyrightnow.”
“Oh?”Myheartpickedup.
“Yeah.He’sprettyamazing.Thoughtful.TookcareofmewhenIwassickyesterday.Sexynorthernaccent.Doesn’tscareeasily,somethingIneedinaman.”
“Sick?Isthatwhatwe’recallingit?”Iwasbeaming.Iknewshecouldtell.
“Yup.Sick.Wedon’tneedtoelaborate.Ohno…”
“What?”
“They’recomingoverhere.OhmyGod…”
…Singing.Chapter16
Sloan
?Girlfriend|Phoenix
WhenIopenedthefrontdoorat6:15,Jasonstoodthereleaningonhisarmagainstthedoorframe,stilllaughing.
Iputmyhandsonmyhipsandglaredplayfullyathim.“I’mgladoneofusfoundthatamusing.Thatwaseasilythemostembarrassingthingtoeverhappentome.”
Andsomuchrecentcontenttochoosefrom…
Jasonhadlaughedsohardonthephonethroughthewholemortifyingperformance,youcouldhearhimthroughmycellafootaway.
“I’msorry,you’reright.CanIcomein?”hewheezed.
Helookedsooooogood.Evenslightlyannoyedathimforlaughingatme,Ihadtobitemylipinappreciation.Heworeagreenflannelwiththesleevesrolledup,andhischina-blueeyesweregleaming.
Theyweregleamingatmyexpense,butstill.
Iputanarmacrossthedoor.“Iwasmusicallyassaultedtodaybyarovingacappellagroupinnavaldresswhites,andyouthinkit’sfunny?”
Hecrashedintome,huggingmearoundthewaist.Iwentlimpinprotest,droppingmyarmstomysidelikenoodles,anditmadehimlaughharder.
“Youjustdon’trealizetheeffectyouhaveonmusicians,SloanMonroe.So…whendoIgettomusicallyassaultyou?”
Inarrowedmyeyes,buthekissedme,smilingagainstmyunresponsive,protestinglips.Normallyhiscloseproximitymademeswoon,buthislaughingmademejustindignantenoughtoholdmyground.
“Icomebearinggifts,”hewhispered,aninchfrommymouth,stillcrackingup.
“Itbetterbegood.I’maboutreadytothrowyouintothelaundryroomwithTucker.”
Heletmego,pickingupaplasticbagfromthesteps,andhandedittome,hiseyessparkling.Ilookedinsideandgasped.Itwasfulloftinycreamers.
“Iboughtfivecoffeesforthese,”hesaid.“WhenIhitthecreamerstation,IfeltlikeaVikingonaraid.”
Ibeamed.“Jason,youpillagedforme?Thisissosweet!”Butwhenheleanedin,Iturnedmyfacetotheside.“Wherearemyfivecoffees?”
“Gasstationcoffee?Foraconnoisseurlikeyou?Iwouldn’tdare.”Thenhereacheddown,aroundthesideofmyfrontporchflowerpotwiththepetrifiedgeraniumsinit,andproducedawarmStarbuckscup.
Ilookedatitandheldmybreath.“That’ssothoughtful.”Iraisedmyeyestohis.“ButIcan’thavecaffeinethislate.”
Hesmiled.“Iknow.It’sdecaf.”
Ihadtoclutchahandovermyheart.“Yourealizethatrepeatedlybringingmemyfavoritecoffeeiscomparabletofeedingastraycat,right?Youmightnevergetridofmenow.”
“Good,”hesaid,pullingmeclosetokissmewithanenormousgrin.“Iwashopingforsomethinglikethat.”
***
Afterdinner,wewatchedTopGun.Irolledmyeyesintherightplace.Jasonhadhisarmaroundmeandweweresnuggleddeepintothesofawithablanketoverourlaps.Tuckerwascurledupnexttome,sleeping.
Thelivingroomwasclear.I’dspentlastnightpackingeverythingintothecar.ThismorningI’ddroppeditalloffatGoodwill,bracingmyselfforthepunchintheheart,butitnevercame.AndIrealizeditwasactuallyarelieftoletitallgo,likeI’dbeencarryingitonmybackallthistime.
ThenIwashedmycar,because,youknow,mycar.Icouldn’tletJasonseeonemoreunattractivethingaboutme.Iwassurehehadalimitsomewhere,andmyCorollawasenoughtomakeanymanrunscreamingfromthegarage—notthatJasonseemedtocarewhatkindofdumpsterfireIwas.He’dnevermetthebestversionofme,andforsomereasonhestillseemedtowanttobehere.Iwasaghost,wanderingtheroomsofamuseumofthepersonIusedtobe,andJasonwaslikeoneofthelivingwhocouldsomehowseemeanddecidedtowandertheplacewithme.
Ilikedthathewaswillingtowandertheplacewithme.
Hetwinedhisfingersinmineontopoftheblanket,andIputmyheadonhisshoulder.Hepressedakisstomyforehead,andIcouldfeelhimlookingdownonmelongafterhefinished.Ismiledtomyself.
BeingwithJasoninthehouseI’dsharedwithBrandondidn’tfeelstrange.I’dlivedherealonefourtimeslongerthanBrandonhadeverlivedherewithme.ButIthinkthebiggestpartofitwasthatevenwhenallhisstuffhadstillbeenhere,thisplacedidn’tfeellikeBrandon’s.Itdidn’tevenfeellikemine
I’drealizedsomethinginthepasttwodays.Thishousewasamausoleum.AndnotforthemanIlost—formyself
OnceItookouteverythingthatbelongedtoBrandon,allthatwasleftbehindwasremnantsofme—anditwasn’tthemeofnow,itwasthemeofbackthen.Thehappymewho’dhungshadowboxesandcookedinthekitchen.Theonewhopaintedactual,dignifiedworksofartthatIwasproudenoughtohangonwalls.Theselittlemementoswereallaroundme,smallremindersofawomanIhadn’tseensinceBrandontookoffonhismotorcyclethatmorningandnevercamehome.AndthethingwasIwantedtobethatwholeagain.Imissedmyself.
Imissedbeinghappy
TonightwasthefirsttimeI’dcookedanythingthatactuallyrequiredeffortinmorethantwoyears—anditmademewonderwhyIhadn’tdoneitsooner.Ilovedcookingforpeople.AndIlovedseeingJasonenjoyingsomethingIcoulddoasmuchasIenjoyedwhatheputintotheuniverse.
Kristenwasright.I’dchosenthislife.AndI’dhadenough.Iwasgoingtomakeaconcertedefforttogetoutofthisin-betweenIwastrappedin.Iwasgoingtoactivelypursuejoy.I’dcook.I’dmaybestartupdatingmyblogagain.Ihadtoomanypayingcommissionstobeabletodedicatetimetopaintinganyofmyownstuff,butmaybeeventuallyI’devengetbacktothattoo.AndIwasgoingtostartnow.NotforJason.Notbecausehewasheretoreapthebenefits.Formyself.Ishouldhavedoneitalongtimeago.
Whenthecreditscameon,IstretchedandJasonsatupandhitthePowerbutton.
“Ineedtoaskyousomething,”hesaid,turningtome.
“IfyouaskmeonemoretimeifI’velostthatlovingfeeling—”
Helaughed.“Notthat.”Thenhisfacewentatouchserious.“I’mnotseeinganybodyelse.Itoccurredtomethatmaybeyoumightbedating.IjustwantedtomakeitcleartoyouthatI’monlydatingyou.”
“Isthataquestion?”Iasked,buyingtimewhileIprocessedwhatI’dheard.
Eventhoughhehadn’tsaiditbeforethis,Iknewinnatelythathewasseeingonlyme.Ijustknew.ButIguessitwasgoodweweretalkingaboutit.
Hesmiledalittle.“Areyouseeinganyoneelse?”
Isnorted.“No,ofcoursenot.”Theideawasalmostlaughable.Me?Dating?Besides,Ilikedhimwaytoomuchtolookatotheroptions.ButJasonlooked…relieved,maybe?
“IwouldlikeitifyouandIonlydatedeachother,”hesaid,lookingatmeintently.
Ishrugged.“Okay.”
“Youagree?”
“Yes.Iwon’tseeanyoneelse.Justyou.”
Hegazedatmeforamoment,somethingsoftplayingaroundtheedgesofhissmile.Thenheleanedoverandkissedme.Itwasagentle,closed-mouthedkiss,andwhenitwasover,hestrokedmycheekwithhisthumb,lookinginmyeyes.Myheartfluttered.Thenmycellphonevibratedinmylapandwebothlookeddown,readingthetextatthesametime
Kristen:Tomorrow.Gethereby5:00.Iwanthelpwiththesides.BRINGHIM.
Igroaned.
“What?”Jasonasked.
“Kristenisconspiringtomeetyou.It’sherbirthdaytomorrow,andJoshisgrillingsteaks.Shewantsmetobringyou.”
“Sure,”hesaid.
Ishookmyhead.“No.It’llbeawful.They’llmakeyousouncomfortable.They’reshameless.No.”
“Soyou’rejustgoingtohidemefromyourbestfriend?Forever?”
“Yes.That’stheplan.Youdon’tunderstand,Ican’tevenletherknowyou’reoverhererightnow.She’llshowupjusttoshowyoupicturesofmeatmyeighth-gradedance.”
Helaughed.“WhattimeshouldIpickyouup?”
“Youreallywanttodothis?Itmaytestourrelationship.”
“Soyouadmitit’sarelationship,”hesaid,smilingatme.
Inarrowedmyeyesathim,suspectingatrap.“Well,whatwouldyoucallit?”
“That’sexactlywhatI’dcallit.ButyouhaveatendencytorobmeofthetitlesI’mdue.”
“Likewhat?”
“Likecallingourfirstdateanappointment.”
Irolledmyeyes.“Fine.We’rein…arelationship,”Isaid,forcingoutthelastword.Itwaswayearlyforthat,butitkindofwasone,Iguess.Hewasn’twrong.
“Amonogamousrelationship,”headded.
“Yes,we’renotdatinganyoneelse,soIsupposethat’salsotrue.”
“Sothatmakesyoumygirlfriend.”
Ichoked.“Jason!”
“What?Whatelsewouldyoucallit?”HelookedcompletelyamusedathowflusteredIwas.
“Idon’tknow?We’reseeingeachother,exclusively.That’showI’dsayit.”
“Andthatwouldmakemeyourboyfriend,”hesaid,hiseyesdancing.
Hewasright.AndIwasterrified.
“We’veonlyknowneachotherfortwoweeks,”Isaid.“Thisisonlyourthirddate.”
Heshookhishead.“Idon’tcare.”
Ibitmylip.“Jason,Itakethatstatusreallyseriously.”
“Ihopeso,becausesodoI.Look,Idon’tcarewhattherulebookssayweshouldbedoingrightnow.Ilikeyou.Youlikeme.Weagreethatwe’reexclusivelyseeingeachother.AndIwantyoutobeabletotellrandomacappellagroupsthathitonyouthatyouhaveaboyfriend.”
Thenheleanedinandkissedme.“Andyourboyfriendshoulddefinitelyknowyourbestfriend.”Chapter17
Jason
?IFeelIt|AvidDancer
IcouldhavewrittenalovesongaboutthatchickenSloanmadefordinner.Hell,maybeIshouldwritealovesongaboutthatchickenSloanmadefordinner.Itwouldbebetterthantheshitmylabelsentover,eveninmycurrentstateofwriter’sblock.
Whenitcametimeformetogohome,Iwantedtostayagain.IevenconsideredaskingthistimeifIcouldspendthenightonthecouch,butIfiguredifshewantedmethere,shewouldn’tbekickingmeout,soIsuckeditupandleft.Steppingoutontotheporchthatevening,kissinghergoodnight,anddrivingoffinmytruckfeltascounterintuitivetomeasanythingI’deverdone,likeleavingmyguitarbehindonasidewalk.
Noguyinhisrightmindeverdidanythingtofuckupachancelikethis.
Iwasgettingthisshotwithheronatechnicality.I’dslippedinundersomewire.She’dbeenisolatedandgrievingsonoothermanhadgottentoher.IknewhowluckyIwas.AndeverymomentIspentwithher,Iwasmoreandmoreawareofit.
Iwantedtodothingsforher.Bringhergiftsthatmadehersmile,holdherdoorsopen.Takeoutthedamntrashinherkitchen,watchherpaint.IwantedtobeusefultoherandseewhatshelookedlikebeforeshewenttobedandwatchherlaughatsomethingonTV.
Idefinitelydidn’twanttogohomewithouther,thatwasfordamnsure.
WhenIgotbacktomytrailer,itfelthollowandcold.Isighedandtossedmykeysonthekitchencounter,takingoffmyjacket.Ilookedaroundandfeltnoattachmenttoanyofit.Itwasmyplace,filledwithmythings,butitdidn’tfeellikehome.Oddlyenough,Sloan’splacedid,andIhadafeelingithadmoretodowiththecompanythanthehouse.
Tucker,thePantyBandit,jumpedonthebed,andIlethim.Nocrateforhimtonight.Wewereinthistogether.Whymakehimanymoremiserablethanhehadtobe,stuckhere,withmeinsteadofwithSloan,sniffingaroundmylaundrybasketinsteadofhers?
IshoweredandwasrubbingmyhairwithatowelwhenIheardtapping.Tuckerhoppedoffthebedandranforthedoor,scratchingandwhining.Ilookedatmywatch.Itwasalmostmidnight,alittlelateforErnietobewanderingtheyard.
IjumpedintosomesweatpantsandopenedthedoortoSloanstandingoutside,rubbingherarmsinthecold.Tuckerspilledoutofthetrailerandcircledherhappily,jumpingonher.
“Um…maybeIshouldhavecalledfirst?”shesaid,pattingTucker’sheadandeyeingmybarechest.ShebitherlipuncertainlyandIbrokeintoagrin.
“Getinhere.”
SheclimbedthestepandIpulledhertome.
“I…Ijustmissedyou,”shesaid,lookingupatmeshylyafterI’dgivenheraproperkisshello.
“Youshouldn’thaveletmeleave,”Isaid.“Iwouldhavesleptinthelivingroom.”
“Youwould?”
“Ohyeah.”
Ileaneddownandkissedheragain,standingtherebytheopendoorofthetrailer.Thekisswasagratefulone.She’ddeliveredherselftomelikeagift.
“You’restayingthenight,right?”Iasked,beamingather.
Iwasn’tsuggestinganythingotherthansleeping.Ifshedidn’tusuallykissonthefirstdate,weweren’thavingsexonthethirdone,nomatterhowcharmingImightbe.AndIwouldneverpushherintoit.
“Onlyifit’sjustsleeping,”shesaid,eyeingmewarily.
“Ofcourse.”
“Willyouputashirton?”Sheglancedatmychest.
Ichuckled.“Yes.”
“Andyoupromisetobehave?”
“Absolutely.”
Shesmiled,lookingrelieved,andnodded.Iwouldhaveagreedtoanydemandshemadeifitmeantshe’dstay.Iwouldhavesleptonafloatyinthepoolifthatwaswhatitwouldtake.
Itoremyselffromher.“Youwantsomewater?”
“Sure.”
WhileIfilledherglass,shewanderedtothefridgeandtookdownthetouritineraryI’dstuckthere.“Isthisyourtourschedule?”
“Yeah.”ThisonewasformyUSdates.Ihadn’ttoldherabouttheextratwomonthsortheUKportionyet.Hittingherwith,“Bytheway,I’mgoingtobegoneforfourteenmonths”feltalittleheavyforthefirstdayofourofficialrelationship.
ShefollowedmeintomyroomandsatontheedgeofmybedandstudiedtheprintoutwhileIduginmydrawerforashirt.“Wow.Doyouevengetadayoff?”Shelookedupatme.“Theseconcertdatesaresoclosetogether.”
Tuckerpushedhisfaceunderherarmandshehuggedhim,watchingmepulltheteeovermyhead.Shereallywatchedme.Hereyeswerenowherenearmyface.Ismiled.ShewasbitingherlipandoneofthoseblushesIlovedwascreepingupherneck.
Ilookedathertoo.Sheworeawhitetanktopandsomepinkshorts.Herhairwasinamessybraid.Shelookedlikeshe’dbeenreadyforbedbeforeshecameover.Thetanktopwaslowcut.Damn.I’dprobablyhavetosleepwithapillowbetweenussoIdidn’tpressanythingunwantedagainsther.Itwasdefinitelygonnabeaproblem.
“Toursarehardwork,”Isaid,takingthepacketfromheranddroppingitontothetopofTucker’scrate.Igotunderthecoversandhelduphersidesoshecouldjoinme.Shescootedinandputherheadonmychest.Ireachedover,turningoffthelights,thenhuggedhercloser.
Itwasn’tcloseenough.
Iputmynosetoherhairandbreathedin,andsheslidalegupovermythighandsnuggledintome.Iwonderedifshecouldhearmyheartpounding.Shehadto.
Iclearedmythroat.“‘Younevercloseyoureyesanymore—’”
ShehitmeandIlaughed,kissingthetopofherhead.
TuckersettledattheendofthebedandIshutmyeyes,feelingasenseofcalm,likeeverythingIneededwasinoneplaceatthesametime.Chapter18
Sloan
?TheWreckoftheEdmundFitzgerald|JaxonWaters
Jasonpickedmeuprightat4:45todriveustoKristen’stoattendhertrialbyfire.Iwashopinghe’dgetstuckdoingsomeJaxonWatersthingandhavetocancel,butnoluck.Iarguedweshouldtakeseparatecarssohecouldescapeifheneededto,buthewouldn’thearofit.
Myeyelidwasinafull-scalepanicattack.Thefingerwasn’tenoughtoholditinplace.Ineededmywholepalm
Jasonlookedoveratmefrombehindthewheelofhistruckandlaughed.“Comeon,shecannotbethatbad.”
“Jason,there’sprobablyacloneofherguardingthegatesofhell.”
Thecreasingatthecornersofhiseyesmademesmiledespitemyself.
“Ijustneverknowwhatshe’sgoingtodo.She’salwaysscheming.Andthebaby’sathisgrandmother’shousetonight,sowhoknowswhatshe’sgotplanned.”
“Schemes,huh?”Hechuckled.
“Yes,shelovesmessingwithme.Ican’texplainher,Jason.She’stooweird.”
WhenweknockedonthedoortoKristen’stanstuccohouse,IgaveJasononemoreI’m-so-sorryglance,andhewinkedatme.
Kristenthrewthedooropen,grinningrightpastmeatJasonlikealunatic.“YoumustbeJason!”Shebumpedintometheatricallyanddoverightinforahugwithmydate.
Ishookmyheadatheroverhisshoulder,andshegavemecrazyeyes.
Whenhewasreleasedfromherclutches,Jasonhandedhertheflowershe’dbrought,andshegushed,usheringusinside,whereJoshwaitedlikeanaccomplice,holdingtwobeers.
StuntmanMikebouncedoffJason’sshins,andhecrouchedandpettedhim.
Kristenleanedoverandwhisperedinmyear.“Hedoessmelllikeflannel.”
“Youpromisedmeyou’dbehave,”Ihissed.
“What?WhatdidIdo?”shesaid,blinkingatmewithfeignedinnocence.
Jasonstoodandtookthebeerhewasoffered,shakingJosh’shand,introducinghimself.Jasondidn’tlooktheleastbituncomfortable.Maybehewasusedtooverzealous,grabby,slightlyinappropriatefans?
“Hey,”Kristenwhispered,nudgingmeintheribs.“ItoldJoshtoaskhimifhecanspell‘chlamydia.’Ifhecan,he’sgonnathrowhimout.”
IblanchedandshepracticallyskippedacrosstheroomandhookedherarminJason’s.“Letmegiveyouthetour.”
“I’mcomingonthetour,”Iannounced.
“Nope.It’saone-persontour.We’reallbookedup.”Sheslappedtheflowerstomychest.“Puttheseinwater,willyou?And,Josh,canyoushowSloantothekitchen,wherethere’sapotatosaladthatneedsputtingtogether?Thanks.”
Jasonlookedthoroughlyamusedatmydistressandallowedhimselftobeledaway.
Huffing,IturnedtoJosh,whowassmilingafterhisinsanewife.
“Youknowthere’snostoppingherwhenshegetsanidea,”hesaid.
“Andwhatideaarewetalkingabout,Josh?”
Hetookaswigofhisbeer.“I’mnottellingyoushit.Ihavetolivewithher.”
Istompedtothekitchentomakethedamnpotatosalad.Tenminuteslater,asIwasmoodilysqueezingmayointoabowlandchoppingcelery,JasonandKristenreappeared,laughingandchattinglikeoldfriends.
Jasonsatononeoftheleatherbarstools,slidinghishalf-emptybeeronthecounter.IglaredatKristen,thengaveJasonalonglook,tryingtofigureoutifwewerestilldatingorifhe’ddecidedagainstitafterspendingafewminutesalonewithmybestfriend.
“KristenwasjusttellingmeaboutthetimeyouwonMissCanogaPark,”Jasonsaid.“Ididn’tknowyou’ddonebeautypageants.Whydidn’tyouevermentionit?”
Istoppedchoppingandlookedbackandforthbetweenthemindisbelief.“Thisiswhatwasonthetour?Thescrapbooksdidn’tcomeout?Nosleepoverphotosofmeinheadgear?”
Jason’seyessmiledasheliftedhisbeertohislips.
Kristenscoffeddramatically.“NowwhywouldIspoilthose?”shesaid,cockingherhead.“I’msavingthemforthecalendarsI’mhandingoutatChristmas.”
Jasonlaughedsounexpectedlyhehadtoputahandunderhischintowipeupbeer.IslidmyeyesbacktoKristenandnarrowedthem.
“What?”shesaid.“IshowedhimthepicturesofusatCoachellathreeyearsago.”
Istaredather.Seriously?TheCoachellapictures?IwaswearingawhitemacramébikiniwithcutoffdenimshortsandhadflowersinmyhairandIlookedamazing.
Well,I’llbedamned.Shewaswingmanningme.Unbelievable.
“IplayedCoachellalastyear,”Jasonsaid,stillchucklingalittle.“Iwishyouwouldhavegone.Iwouldhaveseenyoufromthestage.Wecouldhavemetsooner.”
Isnorted,scoopingceleryintothebowl.“ThereareliketwohundredthousandpeopleatCoachella.Youwouldn’thavenoticedme.”
Helookedmeintheeye.“Iwouldnoticeyouinacrowdofamillion.”
HeheldmygazeandIcouldfeeltheweightofKristen’sstareasshewatchedthetwoofuslookateachother.
TheslidingglassdooropenedandJoshpoppedhisheadinside.“Hey,Jason,wanttohelpmewiththegrill?”
“Sure,”Jasonsaid,flashingmeasmilethatsaidherememberedmyprophecyofagrill-sideinterrogation,andhedutifullyfollowedJoshoutside.
“Havefun,”Isaidafterhimbeforeheslidthedoorclosed.Hegavemeaconfidenttwo-fingeredsaluteanddisappearedintotheyard.
Kristenlookedatmeandmouthed,“OhmyGod.”
“Iknow,right?”
“Heislikeseriouslyintoyou.Ithinkhe’sinlovewithyou.I’mnotevenkidding.It’salloverhisface.He’swhipped.”
Irolledmyeyes.
“Haveyouhadsexwithhimyet?Wasitamazing?Tellmeeverything.”
Ishookmyhead.“No,wehaven’thadsex.ButIsleptathisplacelastnight.”
He’dsnuggledmesohard.Heneverletmegoonce.Iactuallystartedsmilingdownatthepotatosaladthinkingaboutit.
He’dalsoputapillowbetweenusatonepoint.Thatmademesmiletoo.
“Sothird-basestuff,then?”sheasked.
“Actually,no.Wehaven’tdoneanythingotherthankissing.”
ShelookedatmelikeIhadtwoheads.“Youhaven’teventouchedhispenisyet?Why?”
“Loweryourvoice!”Iwhispered,shootingalookatthedoor.
“IsweartoGod,ifthereisn’tpenistouchingintheverynearfuture,thisfriendshipisover.That’swhatIwantformybirthdaygift.”
“FormetotouchJason’spenis?”
“Yes.”
“Darn.IgotyousomelotionsfromBath&BodyWorks,”Isaid,turningoutmylowerlipinamockpout.
Thetruthwas,keepingmyhandsoffhimwasgettingharderandhardertodo.Thestrugglewasreal.Ididn’tevenwanttoadmittomyselfhowquicklyI’ddecidedtogotoNordstrom’slingeriedepartmentinsteadofWalmarttoreplacealltheunderwearTuckerchewedup.AndIdefinitelydidn’twanttoownuptohowmuchredI’dbought.
“Ilikehim,”Kristendeclared.
Iwentbacktochoppingcelery.“Ilikehimtoo.”ThenIsetmyknifebackdown.“Kristen?Ireallylikehim.Like,alot.Oh,”Isaid,remembering,“andhe’sofficiallymyboyfriendbytheway.”
Sherearedback.“Youhaveaboyfriendyou’veknownlessthanamonth?Wow.DoesJasonknowhe’smakinghistoryhere?Howdidhegetyoutoagreetothat?”
Inarrowedmyeyes.“Therewasalotofwordsmithing.Itwasallveryconfusing.”
Shegrinned.“Theflash-bangchaoscampaign.Myfavorite.It’showJoshgotmetomarryhim.”
Isnorted.
Shepickedupapieceofceleryandwaveditovermybody.“Well,itworks.Youevenlooklikearockstar’sgirlfriend.”
Ismiled.“Imadehimdinnerlastnight.Andbreakfastthismorning.”
Hereyesflewwide.“Youdid?You’recookingagain?”
“Iam.”Iwrinkledmynose.“Isortofhavetoorwe’llendupeatingcampingfoodeverymorning.”
Shelaughedandshelookedgenuinelyhappy.
Itookadeepbreath.“I’mtrying,Kristen.Ireallyamtrying.”
Hereyeswentsoft.“Good.Keepdoingit.Andfallforhim.Andwhenyoudo,makesureyouswingfromeveryfuckingbranchonthewaydown.”
***
AtdinnerJasonreachedunderthetableandlacedhisfingersinmine.Iwonderedwhathadhappenedoutside.IhopedJosh’squestionshadn’tbeentooinvasive.Itappearedmyboyfriendstilllikedme,butthenightwasyoung.
KristentossedmeasmallbagofDoritosandIopeneditandpouredthemontomyplate.ButwhenIwenttoflattenthebag,shescoldedme.“Uh,uh,uh.That’snothowwedoit.”
Iglaredather.
Shedumpedherownbagandthenturneditinsideoutonherhandlikeafoilmitten.Shewaveditatme,waitingformetodothesame.
Ugh.
“IfJasoncantakeyouatyourbest,hecantakeyouatyourbagofDoritos,”shesaid.
Joshsnortedandwentbacktohiscornonthecob.JasoneyedmeandIletoutasigh.TechnicallyJasonhadneverseenmeatmybest.Whystartnow,Iguess,right?
IputmybaginsideoutonmyhandandwaitedforKristentostart.Theleastshecoulddowaskickofftheridiculouspractice.We’dbeendoingthissincethesixthgrade.Itwaskindofatradition.Whenshebeganlickingthebag,Istartedlickingminetoo.
“Theinsideofthebag’sthebestpart,”IsaidtoJason,lamely.“Andit’sherbirthday.Ihaveto.”
Helaughedandtookmyhandagain,kissingitthistimeinfrontofeveryone.
“Oh,Iforgottotellyou!”Kristensaid,holdingupherbaghandlikeanidiot.“Wehaveanactivitytonight.Karaoke!”ShelookedbackandforthbetweenJasonandmewithher“yay”face.
“Aaaaaandtheshoedrops,”Isaid,crumplingmychipbagandflingingitather.
KristenlookedproudofherselfandJoshshookhishead,wipinghismouthwithanapkininhisbestI’m-staying-out-of-itperformanceofthenight.
“Kristen,no.I’msureJasondoesn’twanttohearussing.I’msurethatJasondoesn’twanttosin—”
“Ilovekaraoke,”Jasonsaid.
“Heloveskaraoke!”KristenbeamedatJason.
“I’mgoingtokillyou,”Ibreathed,onlyhalfkidding.
Afterdinner,whentheplateswerecleared,KristenandJoshwenttofireupthemicrophonesandIcorneredJasoninthekitchen.
“Iamso,sosorry,”Isaid,puttingmyforeheadtohischest.“Itoldyou.Itoldyouthiswouldhappen.”
Hesmileddownonme.“What?Karaoke?”
“Yes!”Isaid,lookingupathim.“She’stryingtogetyoutosing!”
“Idosingprofessionally.Thisisn’tparticularlydistressingforme.”
“It’sdistressingforme!”
IfheturnedintoJaxonWatersinfrontofme,Iwasgoingtopassout.
“Why?”hesaid,tippingmychinup.“Youdon’twantmetosingforyou?Stillalittletraumatizedbythecarwashacappella?”Hesmiled,doingthatthingwhereheputshismouthreallyclosetomineandIcan’tfocusanymore.Henormallyreservedthistypeofbehaviorforourgood-nightkissontheporch.Itwashighlydistracting.
“Uh-huh,”Imurmured,notrememberingthequestion.
Hepulledawayalittle,lettingmegetmywitsback.“I’mhavingagoodtime.Relax.Joshwarnedmeaboutthekaraoke.Hesaidhe’dtalkheroutofitifIwasn’tokaywithit.It’stotallyfine.”
“Joshtoldyou?”
“Hedid.Also,Ihavenoideahowtospell‘chlamydia.’”
Isnorted.
Heleanedinandwhisperedagainstmymouthagain.“You’regoingtotellmeeverythingKristensaidonthewayhome,right?”
“Uh…shesaidtoswingfrombranchesandtouchyour—No,”Isaid,shakingmyselfoutofmystupor.
“Touchmywhat?”heasked,grinning.
Thesoundof“LoveShack”begantospillthroughthedoorway.JoshstartedthesongandKristenbrokeinwith“LooooveSHACK!”
Irolledmyeyes.“Thesetwoplantoclosetheplacedown.”
Hesmiled.“Let’sgointherebeforetheythinkwe’vesnuckoffforaquickie.”
“Kristenisallformejumpingyourbones.Itwouldn’tsurprisemeifbothourbeerswerespikedwithecstasy.Infact,don’tdrinkanythingshegivesyou.”
“Idon’tneedadrugtowanttotakeyouforaquickie,”hesaid,slidinghishandsunderthebottomofmyshirtsoheheldmebythebareskinofmywaist.Heputhismouthbymyear.“WillyoucomewithmetoMinnesotathisweekend?”
Iliterallystartedchokingonmyownsaliva.“ToMinnesota?Like,tomeetyourparents?Tomorrow?”
“Yes,tomeetmyparents.Andmyassholeofabrother,David.”
Theassholecommentmademelaugh.Thenmyeyelidstartedtwitching.
Henuzzledhisnosetomine.“Idon’tknowwhenI’llbeoutthereagain,andIwantyoutocomewithme.It’sreallycasual.Myparentsareverylaidback.”
Ididn’twanttogothreedayswithouthim.Butmeetinghisparents?Already?Andwasn’tMinnesotareally,reallycold?
“Jason,I’vebeenyourgirlfriendforlikefiveminutes.”
“Yeah,andIalreadytoldthemallaboutyou.”
Ipulledmyfacebacktolookathim.“Youdid?Whatdidyousay?”
“Thetruth.ThatyouheldmydogransomuntilIagreedtogooutonadatewithyou.”
Ihithimandhechuckled.
“Comeon.Don’tmakememissyouforthreedays.It’llbefun.Comewithme.”
Hesaidhe’dmissme.Imelted.
“Okay,”Isaid.
Hebeamed.“Yes?”
“Yes.Fine.TakemetoMinnesota.”
Screwit.Whynot?WhatelsewasIgoingtodowhilehewasgonebesideswishIwerewithhim?
Hesmiledandputhisforeheadtomine,pullingmeclosertohim.“Iwantsomethingelse,”hesaidtomyeyes.
Iarchedmyeyebrow,buthejustlaughed.
“Notthat.AlthoughIwouldn’tmindthat,”headded.“Iwantyoutocookwithmymomwhenwegetthere.Itwouldmeanalottoher.”
Irubbedmynosetohis.“Youcouldn’tstopmeifyoutried.”
HesmiledandwasleaningintokissmewhenKristenpoppedherheadintothekitchen.Wejumpedliketeenagerswho’djustgottencaughtmakingoutonthesofa.
“Hey!Getaroom!”shesaid,talkingintothemicrophonesoitreverberatedthroughthehouse.Thenshewhisperedintothemic,“Seriously,theguestroomisallmadeup.Makeyourselvescomfortable.”Shebitherlipandbouncedhereyebrowsandthendisappearedbackintothelivingroom.
JasonandIputourheadstogetherandlaughed.
“Comeon.Iwanttosingaduetwithyou,”hesaid.
Igroaned.
“Needashotofcourage?IbetKristenhassometequila.”Hegrinned.
“TequilaofficiallytasteslikethetimeIalmostdied.I’mgoingtohavetogoitsober.”
Hechuckledanddraggedmeintothelivingroombythehand.
When“LoveShack”wasover,Kristenropedmeintosinging“HopelesslyDevotedtoYou”withher.Idiedofembarrassment,butitwasherbirthdayandKristenwashappyandthatwaswhatmattered.
ThentheinevitablehappenedandJason’sturnwasup.
“Whatdoyouwantmetosing?”heaskedKristen.“Anyrequests?”
“‘TheWreckoftheEdmundFitzgerald,’”shesaid,withouteventhinkingaboutit.
Itwasforme.Therewasnoquestion.Iwasgoingtokillher.
Jasonputathumboverhisshoulder.“Hey,youknow,Ihavemyguitarinthetruck.WoulditbeokayifIgotit?”
Kristen’seyesflewwide.“Seriously?Yes.Yes,youcangetit.Areyoukiddingme?Go!”
Jasongotupandwentouttothetruck.JoshandKristenlookedstoked.Andwhywouldn’ttheybe?They’dgottenaGrammy-winningmusiciantoserenadethemattheirbarbecue.I,ontheotherhand,feltafinesweatbreakingoutacrossmyforehead.
Iwasjustgettingusedtotheideaofhavingaboyfriend.Iwasstillmonthsaway—maybeevenyears—fromgettingusedtotheideathathewasJaxonWaters.TheonlywaythatIdealtwiththisfactwasbydoingmybesttoforgetit.Iwascompletelynotreadyforthis.
KristenandJoshsandwichedmeonthesofa,elbowtoelbow.JasoncamebackinwithaguitarcaseandIfeltmyselfbeingsuckedintohisvortex,justwatchinghimpullingouthisinstrument.Iwasacompletegroupie,itwasembarrassing.Iwonderedifhecouldtell.
IpickedupaParentingmagazinefromthecoffeetableandstartedtofanmyselfwhileJasonstoodinfrontoftheTV,tuninghisstrings.Thatalonewasenoughtogivemeheartpalpitations.Butwhenhebegantoplay…Thatwasabsolutelyunreal.Itwasalloverforme.Iwasofficiallyinlove.
Hewasincredible
Jasonhadavoicelikehoneyandcoffeegrounds,sweetandtextured.Itwassomuchbetterinpersonthanonthealbum.Itdidn’tevenseempossiblethatitwasthisgood.Hewassotalented.Iwantedtoslapmyselffornotwantingtolethimsingtomesooner—andatthesametime,Iknewthatifhehad,I’dhaveconfusedmyfeelingsforhimwithmyfeelingsabouthim.
Hewasgoingtobefamous.Really,trulyfamous.Hehaditall.Thelooks,thetalent,thepresence.IcouldseeitasclearlyasanythingI’deverknown.
Andthiswasmyboyfriend.Isaiditoverandoveragaininmymind.Thismanwantedme
Ifeltflatteredandlucky.ThenIfeltnervousandunworthy.Iranthroughasymphonyofemotionsasheplayed,andthewholetimehesang,hesmiledatme,likehewasjusthappyIcouldseethissideofhim.
AndIwashappytoo.BecauseJasonandJaxonweredefinitelythesameman.
***
WhenIjumpeduptowrapmylegsaroundhiswaist,themotionsensoractivatedandthefloodlightspouredovermyporch.Theyusedtobebroken.
DamnJasonforfixingthingsaroundherelikehe’dsaidhewould.
Itwasaftermidnight.Myneighborhoodwasquiet,butIwasn’tafanofthefull-fledgedstagelights.Hepressedhimselfagainstme,pinningmybacktothefrontdoorashekissedme.Hishandsgrippedmeundermythighsandhishipspushedbetweenmylegs,grindingintome.
God,whatwouldthisfeellikehorizontal?
Thetensionhadbeenbuildingbetweenustheentireevening.EvenKristen’sshenanigansandtheawfulduetJasonhadforcedmetosingwithhimhadn’tlessenedit.He’dbeentouchingmeandkissingmeallnight,rightinfrontofKristenandJosh.Theydidn’tcare.Theyprobablyhandedhimacondomonthewayout.
Assoonashegotmealoneontheporch,we’dpouncedoneachother.
ThelightshutoffandIsmiledagainsthismouth.Thenitcameonagain,dousingusinthebrightnessoftenthousandsuns,andIgrimaced.
“Wecouldgoinside…”hewhispered,andhiseyescameuptomine,hisbreathinghard.
Oh,hell.
Inoddedandwrappedanarmaroundhisneck.Ifeltaroundbehindmefortheknob,andwhenIturnedit,thedoorgavewayandwealmostfellintothelivingroom.
Hestaggeredafewfeetbeforeregaininghisbalance.Welaughedalittle,butwedidn’tstopkissing.Hekickedthedoorclosedbehindusandwhirledmeontothesofa,slidingovermeinthedimness,pressinghimselfagainstme.
Allofhimpressedagainstme.
IgatheredthebottomofhisT-shirtandtuggeditup.“Takethisoff,”Isaidbreathlessly.Ineededtorunmyhandsalonghischest,feeltheoutlineofhissix-packundermyfingers,tracethetrailofhairthatdescendeddownintohispants.
Heyankedhisshirtoverhisheadandwasbackonmeinundertwoseconds.Iwasthoroughlyimpressed.“Ihaveneverseenamantakehisshirtoffthatfast,”Ibreathedashislipsfellonmyneck.
“YoushouldseehowfastIcangetyoursoff.”
Isnortedandhishandwanderedupthebottomofmyshirt.Ididn’tstophim.HehikedmyleguparoundhimandIranmypalmsoverthecurveofhisbroad,bareshoulders.
Iwantedtofeelthesearofmyskinpressedtohis.Iscootedtositupandpeeledoffmyshirtandhisfingerswerearoundmyback,unhookingmybra,beforemytophitthefloor.Hepouredoverme,pushingmebackdown.
Mybodywasalive,bloodinmycheeks,myears,myheartdrumminginmychest
Hishandswereeverywhere.Iactuallylookeddowntomakesureheonlyhadtwo
Iwantedhim.SweetbabyJesus,Iwantedthisman.Heknewwhattodowithme.Icouldtell.Hewouldtunemeandplaymelikehisdamnguitar.God,everyinchofhimwastonedandsolid.Hewassostrongandhesmelledsogood.
“I’monthepill,okay?”Ibreathed.“Formyperiods.”
“Igottestedlastmonth.I’mclean.AndKristengavemeacondom.SodidJosh.”
Ilaughedanditwasdrownedbyhislipsbackonmine.
Thiswasreal.Thiswashappening
MybreathingwasraggedwhenIreachedforthetopofhispantsandhisbreathhitchedasItuggedathisbelt.Thensomethinginthefamiliarmetallicclinkofthebucklewhippedmeinstantlybackintotheroom.
Brandon.ThelasttimeIdidthiswaswithBrandon.
Isoberedinaheartbeat.Allthepassionbledrightoutofme.Ifellbackontothecushions,limp.“Jason,Ican’t.”
Hishandsstilledimmediately.Alltwelveofthem.
“I’mnotready.I’msorry,”Iwhispered.
Hehoveredovermeandputhisforeheadtomineandclosedhiseyes,catchinghisbreath.HischestpressedintomybarebreastsandIcouldfeelexactlyhowmuchhewantedme,diggingintomyleg.
God,Ifeltawful.Ishouldneverhavelethiminside.Theporchwassafe.Brightashell,butsafe.Theporchdidn’tcomewithexpectations.
Withpossibilities
Hebreathedagainstmeforaminute,andIfelthimcoolingdown.
“Ijustneedmoretime.It’stoosoon.”Ibitmylip.“Don’tbemadatme.”
Heopenedoneeyeandlookedatmegently.“I’mnotmad.Icouldneverbemadatyouforthat.Lookatme.”Heheldmyeyes.“Igetit.AndIwantyoutobeready.You’renotdoingeitherofusafavorifyourushthings.Okay?”
Itwassoearnestitmademyheartmelt.“Okay.”
Hesmiledsoftlyatmeandkissedmyforehead.Thenhereachedupandgrabbedathrowblanketandpulleditoverme,tuckingitundermyarms,andgotupandputonhisshirt.
IsatuponthesofaandclutchedtheblankettomychestandIwatchedhimashewenttoletTuckeroutofthelaundryroom.Thedogboundedovertomeandjumpedintomylap,lickingme.
Jasonleaneddownwithahandonthetopofthesofaandkissedme.“I’llpickyouupfortheairportatfivethirty.Getsomesleep.”Hesmiledatme.
“Thankyouforunderstanding.”
Heshookhishead.“You’reworththewait.You’rewortheverything.”Hewinkedandlethimselfout,andTuckerfollowedhim,closeonhisheels.Chapter19
Jason
?MiseryBusiness|Paramore
Timetomove.LolaSimonewassittingonthestepofmytrailer.
Islammedthedoortomytruck.“Whatthehellareyoudoinghere?”
Tuckerletoutalowgrowlnexttome.
Shesatonthemetalstair,litbythelightsofthepool,withherbackagainstmydoor,smokingajoint.Sheworeatinysilverdressandshespreadherlegsinanswertomyquestion,balancingontheheelsofherstilettos.Shewasn’twearingpanties.
“Oh,Jesus,comeon,”Isaid,lookingawayfromher.“Enoughofthisshit,Lola.Getup.”Ilookedbackather.
Shedidn’tbudge.
“Lola,now.Leave.”
“Already?Ijustgothere.”Shegrinnedupatme,hereyelidsheavy.“Talkaboutaquickie,”shemuttered.
“Whothefuckgaveyouthisaddress?Idon’twantyouhere.I’mdone.MoveorI’llmoveyoumyself.”
Hereyesglintedandsheshookherhead.
Hotangerbuiltinsideme.Iwassofuckingsickofthis.Sickofit.
I’dbeenmorethanpatientuptothispoint.I’dbeenadamnsaintwhilesheharassedmeformonthsonendanddraggedmyreputationandmyprivacythroughthemusiccharts—butthiswassomethingelse.NowIhadtoconsiderSloan
Whatifshehadcomehomewithme?Orshownuplikeshedidlastnight?HowwouldIevenexplainthisshit?Weweretoonewforthis.
AndwhatwouldLolahavedoneifSloanhadbeenhere…
Myjawclenched.“Iwantyououtofhere.Let’sgo.”Itookherbytheelbowandpulledhertoherfeet.IjustwantedtogetheroutofmywaysoIcouldgoinside,butIcouldfeelthewobbleofherbodyfromthegripIhad,andIknewthatifIletgo,she’dfall.Jesus,shewasafuckingmess.
InoddedtotheHummerI’dseenparkedoutsidethegate.“Callyourchaperonetocomegetyou.”
Shechuckledmirthlessly.“Awwwwww,areyoumadatme?”
“Youwroteafuckingsongaboutme,”Isnapped.“Whatwereyouthinking?Wereyoutryingtoruinmydamncareer?Ihaveanimagetomaintainandyouwrotemenakedanddrunkonafuckingbeach!”
Shegrinnedlazily,drawingagainonherjointwithhereyesclosed,herbraceletsclinkingdownherwrist.“Well,youinspireme,Minnesota.Neverhadsomethingsocleanbefore…”sheslurred.
Ishookmyheadather.“Idon’tknowwhatthefuckhappenedtoyou.Idon’tknowwhatyourfascinationiswithme,whatyou’reon,orwhatyourproblemis,butIwishyou’dfigureitoutandleavemethehellalone.”
Sheblewhersmokesidewaysandsmiledlikeacobra.“Sowe’renotdoingthis,huh?”
Mynostrilsflared.“No,we’renot.”
“You’resomethingelse,Jaxon.YousnappedyourfingersandIcameallthewayoverhere…”Shedraggedhereyesdownmybodyandstaredatmydick.“Atleastletmedothatthingyoulike.”Shelookedbackupandsuckedherbottomlipintohermouth
Iglaredather.“Don’tevercomehereagain.Doyouunderstandme?”
Shesmirkedandyankedherarmdown.ThesecondIletgoofhersheteeteredinherheelslikeababydeer.Shelostherbalanceandtumbledbackwardontothelawn,laughing.Icouldseeherbodyguardmakinghiswayupthedrive,rightoncue.ShewascacklingandgivingmethefingerwhenIscaledthemetalstepswithTuckerandslammedthedoorbehindme.TwoloudthumpsthatIguessedwereshoeshitthesideofthetrailer.
IcalledErnie.Heansweredgroggilyonthethirdring.“Ifyou’recallingmewithacopcarparkedbehindyou,I’mgoingtoneedyoutoswallowthedrugs,”hejoked.
“Lolawasjustintheyard.”
Hegroaned.“Ah,shit.Givemefiveminutes.”
BythetimeErniemetmeoutside,Lolawasgone.Herstilettossatabandonedonthegrass.
“Icheckedthesecuritycameras,”hesaid,meetingmebythepoolinboxersandanopenrobe.“Sheusedthegatecodetogetin.Idon’tsupposeyougavethattoher.”
“No,Ididn’t.Ialsodidn’ttellherwhereIlive,”Isaid,draggingahanddownmymouth.
Heblewabreaththroughhisnoseandlookedaroundtheyard.“Well,Icanresetthecode.That’snotabigdeal.Butwehavebiggerproblems.You’renotgonnabehappy.”Hiseyescamebacktome.
“What?”
Hetookadeepbreath.“Duetothesubstantialfinancialcommitmentthatyourlabelisnowmakingforyourinternationaltour,theywouldliketobringinanotherheadliner.It’sprettystandard.I’veseenthisbefore.It’snotalackoffaith,it’smoreofaninsurancepolicytomakesuretheydon’tlosetheirfuckingshirt.”
“Okay…”
“TheywanttobringinLola.”
Idroppedmyarms.“No.Absolutelynot.”
“Theylikethetie-in.You’vegotthreepotentiallyhitsingleswithheronthesoundtrack.TheywantyoumainstreamandLolaisascommercialastheycome,soattachingyoutoherisbeneficial.Andsaywhatyouwillabouther,buteverythingshefuckingtouchesturnstogold.AndJason,shewantsit.Shewantsitbad.Infact,Ithinkitwasheridea.”
Therewasnofuckingway.Itwouldbeashitshow.Lolawasadisaster.She’dbeplasteredthewholetime,I’dbescrapingheroffthefloorandproppingheruponstage,peelingheroffmelikeducttape.“I’mnotdoingit.”
“Yeah,well,Ithoughtyoumightsaythat.IdidwhatIthoughtyou’dwantmetodo,whichwastotellthemtogotohellinthenicestwaypossible.Isaidifitain’tbroke,don’tfixit.YourUStourdatesaresellingoutnicelyandyoudon’tneedthehelp.AndImadeapointthatLola’sahotfuckingmessandshe’soneoverdosefromaninety-daystintinrehab.”
Inodded.“Good.Whatdidtheysay?”
“Theythankedmeformyfeedbackandsaidthey’dtakeitintoconsideration.”
Istaredathim.“Cantheydothis?”
“Theycandowhateverthefucktheywant.They’repayingforit.Thisisjustlikethefogmachineandthefuckingpyrotechnics.It’stheircall.”
Irakedahandthroughmyhair.“No.”Ilookedhimintheeye.“Iftheydumpheronme,I’mout.”
“Sonowcomesthefunpart.”Ernietickedoffonhisfingers.“Youwalk,andtheysueyouforbreachofcontract.Youhavetopaybackyouradvances,plustheirexpenses,plusanyprojectedrevenuefromthetour.Thedamageswillbeinthemillions.Theseguysdon’tfuckaround.Youcouldhaveakidinthehospitalandthey’dexpectyoutobethere,onstageasscheduled.Barringamentalfuckingbreakdownoralife-threatingillness,you’llbethere.Eveninacomayoumightbethere.They’renotaboveoperatingyoulikeapuppetwiththeirhandupyourass.”Hedippedhisheadtolookatme.“Andtheicingonthebullshitcake?Ifyoudomanagetogetatourcanceledforanythinglessthansomemedicalemergency,youcankissyourfuckingcareergoodbyebecausenobody’sgoingtotouchyouafterthat.”
Ifeltthecolordrainfrommyface.
“Idon’tunderstand,”Ibreathed.“Idon’tfuckinggetwhyshe’spushingthis.Whyme?”
Hescoffed.“You’reprobablytheonlyguywhodidn’tdolinesoffherassandsmackheraroundbeforehefuckedher.She’sgottatourwithsomebody,sowhynottheguywhohelddoorsforher?”Heshookhishead.“Wearebetweenarockandahardplace,myfriend.Igottatellyou,ifyouwouldhaveaskedmeamonthagowhotheworstpersontobringontouris,I’dhavesaidagirlfriend.ButLola?She’smyfuckingtournightmare.Youseetheshitinthetabloidsthismorning?Shethrewabeerbottleataphotog’shead.She’slikearampaginghybridofallmyex-wives,oncocaine.”
Sloan.
AcloudofdoomrolledovermeasIrealizedforthefirsttimejusthowfar-reachingthiswas.
Iwouldn’tbeabletobringSloanontour.Iwouldn’tevenbeabletoflyherouttovisit.Itwouldbeuncomfortableforheratbest.Atworstitwouldbedownrightdangerous.Lolahadahistoryofinstabilityandviolenceandsomeweirdfuckingfixationonme.Whoknewwhatshe’ddo?Evenlockedgatescouldn’tkeepherout.EvenifIgotSloanabodyguard,Icouldn’tguaranteeLolawouldn’tgettoherwithmorethanayearofcloseproximitytotry.Hell,Kanyehadbodyguardstooandalotofgoodthathaddone.NottomentionallthelewdshitIknewshe’dthrowatmygirlfriendjusttopissmeoff.Icouldn’tsubjecthertoit.
Fourteenmonths.FourteenfuckingmonthsofLola,withoutSloan.
“WhatifIgetarestrainingorder?”Iasked,clutchingatstraws.“Theycan’tforceheronmytourifshecan’tgetwithinahundredfeetofme.”
Hescoffed.“Forwhat?Throwingstrippershoesatyourtrailer?MentioningyouonTwitter?Hasshemadeanythreats?Hurtyouinanyway?”Ernieputahandonmyshoulder.“Look,Idon’twantyouclimbingaledgeyet.I’mworkingonit.I’llgetthelawyersinvolvedifIhaveto.Ididn’tevenplanontellingyouuntilIhadadefinitiveanswer,butwiththisshit…”
“Fuck.Nowondersheshoweduphere.”Ipinchedthebridgeofmynose.She’dprobablyhopedforsomehappyreunionbetweenus,soIwouldn’tfightitwhenIfoundoutwhatshewastryingtodo.
ButIwouldfightit.Iwoulddoeverythinginmypowertomakesurethisdidn’thappen.Becauseifitdid,itmightcostmeSloan.Chapter20
Jason
?Superposition|YoungtheGiant
MyfeetwerebackonMinnesotasoilforthefirsttimesinceChristmas.IlovedthatSloanhadcomehomewithme.DespitetheshittynightI’dhad,complimentsofLola,Ihadn’tstoppedsmilingallday.IwasirritablerightuntilIpickedSloanupandshebouncedintomyarms.
WewalkedwithTuckertotherentalcarcounteratthetinyairportinDuluth.Sloanlaughedatthesingleluggagecarousel.
“SowhereisMinneapolisfromhere?”sheasked,leaningdowntopetTucker.Hesatpressedagainstherleg,lookingupather.
“TheTwinCitiesaretwoandahalfhourssouth.”
“Andwe’regoing…”
“Twohoursnorth.Letmeshowyou.”IpulledoutmyphoneandbroughtupGoogleMaps.“Rightnowwe’rehere.Andhere’sEly.”
SheleanedoverandIcaughtaflurryofherperfumeashershoulderpressedintomyarm.Somethingseemedtoactivatebetweenus.Sheturnedherfaceslightlyinmydirection,hereyesmovingtomylips,andIfeltthesamepullthathadalmostdraggedusunderlastnighttugmetowardheragain.
SloanwasmovingslowerinthisrelationshipthanIwas.Ididn’ttakeitpersonally.ImeantwhatIsaid:I’dwaitforher.I’dwaitaslongassheneeded.Whenshewasready,she’dletmeknow.AndifIwasdoingmyjobasherboyfriend,makingherfeelsafe—andmakingsureshewantedmeenough—itwouldallworkitselfouteventually.Therewasnorush.
Thiswasjustaseason,andthere’sbeautyinallseasons.Evenifyouarelookingforwardtothenextone.
“It’ssurroundedbysomuchgreen,”shesaid,clearingherthroat,andwebothseemedtosnapfromourdaze.
“It’sontheedgeoftheBoundaryWatersCanoeAreaWilderness.”
“Andyougointhere?”
“Igrewupinthere,”Isaid,tuckingmyphonebackintomypocket.
Shelookedupatmewiththosedeep-browneyesandputherhandsonmychest.“Thankyouforbringingme.”Shestoodonhertoesandgavemeaquickkiss.
Whenwebrokeaway,shenuzzledhernosetomine.“Andyou’resureyourparentsareokaywithmecoming?”sheaskedagain.
“Absolutely.Mymomhasprobablybeencleaningandrecleaningthehouseinanticipationofyourarrival.You’rethefirstgirlfriendI’vebroughthomesinceprom.”
Shejerkedherheadbackandstaredatmeforasecond.“Pleasetellmethat’sajoke.”
“Ihaven’tbroughtagirlhomeintenyears.”
Panicwashedacrossherfaceandshewriggledoutofmyarms.“Why?!”
“Uh,becauseIhaven’thadoneworthbringing?”Ismiled.Flusteringherwasbecomingoneofmyfavoritehobbies.ItotallygotwhyKristendidit.Sloanwassobeautifulwhenshewasblushingandbitingherlip.
“But…you’vehadseriousgirlfriends.Whatabouttheonethatyoudatedforthreeyears?”
“Jessica?Yeah.Thatwasmypromdate.”
“Jason!”
“What?”Ilaughed.
“Whatthehell?Thisisnotwhatyousoldmeon!”
Ichuckledandputmyhandsonherarms.“They’regoingtoloveyou.”
Sheputafingertohereyelidandlookedatmebleakly.
Ishookmyheadather.“Youwouldmaketheworstpokerplayer,youknowthat,right?”
“Jason,youmadethissoundlikeit’snotthatbigofadeal.”
“WouldyouhavecomeifI’dtoldyouthetruth?”
“No.”
“Well,then.”
Sheglaredatme.
“Wouldyoupreferthatyou’rejustoneinalonglineofwomenthatI’vebroughthome?”
Shenarrowedherloneeyeatme.“No.”
“Well,then,”Isaidagain,provingmypoint.
Shetookherfingerfromhereyelidandhuggedherarmsaroundherself.“Whatiftheydon’tlikeme?”
Impossible.
Itippedupherchin.“There’saveryrealpossibilitythatthey’lllikeyoubetterthantheylikeme.”
Momwasflippingout.NotjustbecauseSloanwasTheHuntsman’sWife,butbecauseIdidn’tbringwomenhomeasarule.
AndbringingSloanhomemeantexactlywhatMomthoughtitdid.Chapter21
Sloan
?WhiteWinterHymnal|FleetFoxes
JasonhadhisplaylistontheBluetoothofourrentalSUV.Ontheplanewe’dsharedhisheadphones,eachofuswearinganearbudsowecouldlistenandstilltalktoeachother.We’dhadourforeheadstogetherthewholetime.IthinkI’dlearnedeveryfleckinhisirisesonthatflight.
Jasonlookedatmefrombehindthewheel.“Sojusttowarnyou,mymom’sgoingtoputusinseparaterooms.She’skindofold-fashioned.”
“Wisewoman.”Itwasprobablysafesttokeepusseparated,especiallyafterlastnight.
“Wecouldalwaysgetahotelroom,”hesuggested,givingmeawickedsidewaysglance.“Everyonedoeskeeptellingustogetone.”
Mycheeksheated.
IcouldcountthenumberofmenI’dsleptwithononehandandhavefingerstospare.AndthelastpersononmylisthadbeentheonlymanI’dplannedonsleepingwitheveragain.EventhoughabsolutelynothinghadfeltwrongaboutwhathappenedbetweenJasonandmelastnight,Brandon’smemoryhadbeenjustenoughofabuzzkilltopullmefromthemoment.
ButIdoubtedI’dhesitateagain.
Jasonwasslowlyedgingoutallthethingsthatfrozemeintime.Hewasthawingmefrommynuclearwinterfromtheoutsidein—andhewasalmosttomycore.
HesmiledattheroadandIadmiredhisprofilefromtheside.Thelinesthatcreasedatthecornersofhiseyes,theslopeofhisnose,asmallfreckleonhischeek,asquarejawandcloselytrimmedbeardwithitsflecksofred,hisAdam’sapple.
Myeyesfollowedhisneckdowntohisarm.Itookinthemusclesofhisbiceps,thenthehaironhisforearm,hishandonthewheel.Ithoughtofhowhisvoicesoundedwhenhesang,thewaythecallusesfromhisguitarfeltonmybareskin,andhowmuchtalentwasinthosefingers.Thosehandswantedtotouchme
No,nexttimenothingwouldstopme.
“ThisisEly.”Hiswholefacelitupaswebegantodrivethroughthesmalltown.
God,IwishIcouldbethatexcitedtocomehome.
MomhadsoldthehouseIgrewupinyearsago,afterthedivorce,andmovedtoaone-bedroomapartmentwithhernewhusband.DadlivedinSanDiegowithhisnewwife.Iwasanonlychild.Brandon’sfamilyandIdriftedapartafterhedied.Iwasstillfriendswithhissister,Claudia,onInstagram,butwehadn’tseeneachothersincethefuneral.KristenwastheclosestthingIhadtoasibling.ItmustbesogreattobeabletocomehomelikeJasonwas.
Thetwo-laneroadranrightthroughtheheartofthetown.Restaurantsandshopspepperedthestreetonbothsides.NoStarbucks,butIcouldmanagewithoutitforthreedays.
WepassedJason’sfamily’sbusinessandhepointeditoutaswedroveby.Thebuildingwascute.ItwasaloghousewithElyOutfittingCompanyontheside.They’dusedacanoeasaflowerboxunderthewindow,andtherailingonthestepswasmadefrompaddles.
Wekeptgoingfifteenmoreminutesbeyondthetownandturneddownaone-lanedirtroadwithamailboxattheentrance.
Icranedmynecktoseethehouseasitcameintoview.Therewasn’tanotherhomeinsightandtherehadn’tbeenformostofthedrivesincewelefttheedgeoftown.Thesingle-storyloghousewasnestledinthewoods,surroundedbyforestsothickIcouldn’tseetheothersideofit.Theroofwasgreenoverhoney-coloredlogs,andaporchwithlogbanistersranthelengthofthefront.Thesmellofburningfirewoodfilledthecrispair.
JasonparkedandcamearoundtomeetmeasIunbuckledmyself.
“Youready?”heaskedasIgotoutofthecar.HestoodwithhishandonthetopoftheSUV,barringmyexitfrombehindmyopendoor.“I’mgoingtoneedonelastgoodkissfromyou.WemightnotgetanotherchanceuntilweleaveonSunday.Ihaveafeelingwewon’tgetmuchtimealone.”Hesmiledatmymouth.
“Oh,Iwonderedwhyyouhadmecorneredhere.You’resayinggoodbyetomeforafewdays.”
“I’monlysayinggoodbyetoyourlips.”
ThepassengersideoftheSUVblockedusfromtheviewofthehouse,soIwrappedmyarmsaroundhisneckandkissedhim,smilingagainsthismouth.Thenaboomingvoicebrokeintoourprivatemoment.“Hey!Getaroom,asshole!”
Jasonshuthiseyesandgrinned.“Fuck.”
Iturnedaroundandlookedthroughthewindowsofthecartoseeamancomingourway.
“David’shere,”Jasonsaid,smiling.
JasonmethisbrotherinfrontoftheSUV.Theburly,flannel-cladmanheldabundleoffirewood.HedroppeditandgaveJasonahugasTuckerjumpedupanddownattheirfeet.
Davidlookedtobearoundthirty,andheoutweighedJasonbyaneasyfiftypounds.Hewastallandbearded,likehisbrother,andlookedexactlylikealumberjack.Allheneededwassuspenders.
“Lookatyou,youHollywoodbigshot,”Davidsaid,holdingJasonawayfromhim.“Californiaturnedyouintoasuit.Isthatafuckingspraytan?”
“Ican’tbelieveKarenletyououtthisweekend.Didyoubarteryourballsforyourfreedom?”Jasonrepliedwithagrin.
“Ahh,fuckyou,”Davidsaid,good-naturedly.Thenhelookedatme.“YoumustbeSloan.Nicetomeetyou.”Heputoutahandandgavemeafirmshake.“Thisguysaidhehadagirlfriend.Ofcourse,nobodybelievedit.LookslikeIjustlostfiftybucksattheoffice.”HeslappedJasonontheback.“Sowhat’sabeautifulthinglikeyoudoingwithsomeonewhowontheUgliestManinElycontestthreeyearsinarow?”
IsmiledandchanneledmyinnerKristen.“It’spurelysexual.”
JasonsnortedandDavidhowled.“Whooooaa,Ilikethisgirl!”Heputanarmaroundhisbrotherandknuckledhischest.
Jasonbeamed.“Wherearethekids?”
“Thekidsaresick.Karenstayedwiththem.Coldsorearinfectionsorsomething.Idon’tknow.Theygeteverydamnthinginthatschoolthey’rein.”
DavidopenedthetrunkandgrabbedmysuitcaseandJason’sbackpack.Jasonpickeduphisbrother’sfirewoodandnoddedformetofollowthemtothehouse.Tuckerseemedtoknowwherehewas.Heranrighttothefrontdoorandstartedtowhineandscratch.
“Mom’spissedatyou,”Davidsaidaheadofus,wranglingmyheavyluggagelikeitweighedlessthanagallonofmilk.“Youweresupposedtobeherehoursago.”
“WestoppedinDuluth,”Jasonsaid.
Duluthhadbeenamazing.We’dwalkedalongLakeSuperior.Itwassocool.Ihadn’trealizedoursightseeingcameattheexpenseoftimewithhisfamily,however.Hehadn’ttoldmewe’dbeenexpectedearlier.
DavidpushedopenthefrontdoorandTuckerraninside.
“Mom,they’rehere!”Davidcalledout,pullingoffhisbootsbysteppingonthebacksofthemwithhisfeet.Jasondidthesame,notputtingdownhisfirewood.
Iclosedthedoorbehindusandbegantakingoffmyshoes.
Awomancamearoundthecorner.Sheworeanapronandaredbakingmittonherhand.Tuckerfollowedheranddancedatherfeet.Shehadbrownhairpulledintoaloosebunandsofthazeleyes.ShegaveJasonasweet-lookingscowl.“Jason!Whydidn’tyoucallmeandtellmehowlateyouweregoingtobe?”sheasked,lookingmoreworriedthanpissed,asDavidhadputit.
Theentryofthehousewasasmallroomwithcoathooksonthewallsandasinglestepupintothehallway.Jason’smomstoodonthestepwithherhandsonherhips,stilllookingupatJasondespitetheelevation.Sheputthehandwiththemittonhisshoulderashekissedherhello.Hereyesmetmineoverhisbackandshebeamedatme.
“Mom,Isaidwewerelandingatone.ItoldyouI’dmakeitbydinner.AndyouknowInevergetasignalonHighwayOne.”
“Nevermind,”shesaid,wavinghimoff.“IwanttomeetSloannow.I’lldealwithyoulater.”
Jasonturnedtome,amusementonhisface.“Mom,thisisSloan.Sloan,thisismymom,Patricia.”
Havingdonehisdutyasfarasintroductions,Jasonedgedpasthismotherwithhisbundleofwood,leavingustoeachother.
Patriciacamedownthesteptogreetme,hereyesalight.“Oh,you’rebeautiful,”shesaid,givingmeahug.“ThankGodIhaveanotherwomanherethisweekend.We’reoutnumbered.”Sheheldmeoutbythearmsandsmiledatmewarmly.“CanyoubelieveIneverhadadaughter?Justmeandallthesemen.”
“Ibettheycaneat,”Isaid.
“Feedingthemisafull-timejob.”Shelaughed.“Comeon,let’sgoin.IwassoexcitedwhenJasonsaidyouwerecoming.IfeltlikeIwasgettingavisitorjustforme.Theboyswillbedoingtheirownthingformostoftheweekend,theyalwaysdo.”Sheledmeintothehouse.
Thehomewasthoughtfullydecorated,withsoftarearugsoverthewoodfloors.Thelivingroomwepassedwascomfortableandrustic.Afirecrackledinthefireplaceandadeerheadwasmountedabovethemantel.Ahugebaywindowoverlookedalake.
JasonandDavidwerealreadyinthekitchenwhenwegotthere.
Amanstoodoverthesinkdoingdishes.Whenhelookedup,Iknewexactlywhohewas.HelookedlikeanolderversionofJason.Hisbeardandhairweresaltandpepper,buthiseyeswerethesameclearblueashisson’s.
“Dad,thisisSloan,”Jasonsaid.“Sloan,thisismydad,Paul.”
Iwasexpectingahand,butIgotahugandakissonthecheekinstead.Ittookmebysurprise.JasongrinnedatmeoverPaul’sshoulder.
Paulsmiledatme.“We’veheardsomuchaboutyou,Sloan.TheHuntsman’sWife!Veryimpressive.We’veeatenalotofyourfoodovertheyears.”
“I’veheardalotaboutyoutoo,”Ireplied,flusteredbythefamiliarwelcome.WhatwasupwithLarsenmenandflustering?
“Andwhatdoyouthinkofourstate?”Paulasked.
“It’sbeautiful.IseewhyJasonsingsaboutit.”
Paulsmiledathissonapprovingly.
DavidsatinachairatthetableandJasonhoveredoverapot,holdingthelid.
“Whatarewehaving?”heasked,pickingupaspoonandtastingthecontents
“Swedishmeatballs.”Patriciahithimwithherbakingmitt.“Getoutofthere,”shesaid,runninghimoff.
Ismiled.
“Somethingtodrink?”Jasonaskedme.
“No,thankyou.Youwanthelp?”IaskedPatricia,joiningherbythestove.Jasonsmiledatmeandgrabbedabeerfromthefridgeandwenttositwithhisbrother.
“Wouldyoumindchoppingsomeparsley?”sheasked,pointingtoacuttingboard.“It’sinthecrisperdrawer.”
Idoverightin,tyingupmyhairandwashingmyhands.Isearchedthefridgefortheparsleyanddugaroundforaknifeandbegantochop.Patricialookedonapprovingly.IfacedthebrothersasIworked,whilePatriciamovedaroundbehindme,droppingmeatballsintoafryingpan.
“Dadwantshelpputtingthedockouttomorrow,”DavidsaidtoJason.
“Already?”Jasonasked,openinghisbeer.
Paulspokeoverhisdishes.“Iceisgone.Beenwarmthisyear.”
“How’sthedock?”Jasonasked.
Davidlookedoverathisparents,whosebackswereturned,andmouthed,“Fuckedup.”
“Thedockisfine.Justneedspatching,”Paulsaid,notturningawayfromhisdishes.
“Hey,”Davidsaid,“JasonandIbothofferedtogetyouguysanewdock.Onewithwheels.Thatyoucanroll.Thatdoesn’tsplinter.”
Jasontossedhisbottlecapathisbrother.IthitDavidonthechestandheproducedastoicmiddlefinger.Ilaughedtomyself.
“Youknowyourdad,”Patriciasaid,notturningaround.“Hedoesn’tliketogetnewthingsifwhathehascanberepaired.Andthat’swhathe’sgottwosonsfor.”
“It’sfine,Mom.We’llgetherout.Wealwaysdo,”Jasonsaid.“Whatelseneedstobedonearoundhere?”
Paulrattledoffalistofprojects.IsawwhatPatriciameantabouttheboysdoingtheirownthing.Theywereheretowork.Thatwasfinebyme.IwantedtogettoknowPatriciabetteranyway.IwantednakedbabypicturesofJasonbeforethisweekendwasout.
PatriciaandIserveddinnerlikewe’dbeendoingittogetherforyears,platingthingsandchattingthewholetime.Itookaseatnexttoheratthetablesowecouldkeeptalking.Themeatballswereamazing.
WhenPauldiscussedthelongto-dolistfortomorrow,nobodycomplained.NobodycussedinfrontofPaulandPatricia,andJasonandDavidrefrainedfromtheirribbingofeachotherintheirpresence.IlikedDavid.HeworkedinITandlivedinSt.Paul.Hedidn’tcomeupveryoften,mostlyholidays.Hehadthreesmallkidsathomeandhiswife,Karen,workedfull-timetoo.
Allduringdinner,Paultreatedhiswifewithareverencethatmademesmiletomyself.Heheldherhandontopofthetableduringdessertandkissedheronthecheekbothtimeshegotup.Itwasadorable.ItactuallyremindedmealotofthewayJasonwaswithme.Alwaystouchingme.Alwaysturnedtomesomehow.
Afterdinner,themenclearedthetableanddidthedisheswhiletheywentonaboutwalleyefishingandsomenewlurePaulhad.
PatriciaandIhadacupofcoffeeinthelivingroomwhilewewaitedfortheguystofinishup.Tuckercurledupbetweenusonthesofalikehecouldn’tpickwhohelikedbetter.Wewerebothsittingwithahandonhisback,talking,asthemenrejoinedusinthelivingroom.DavidthrewanotherlogonthefireandIsmiledatJasonasheploppednexttome.
“Isthatyours?”Iaskedhim,noddingataguitarproppedagainstthesideofthefireplace.
“No.Mydad’s.Heplaystoo.Hetaughtme.”
“Andyourvoice?”Iasked.“Whogaveyouthat?”Jasonhadanimpressivevocalrange.
“That’sallhis,”Patriciasaid,lookingathersonproudly.“Noideawhereitcamefrom.JustaGod-givengift.AndJasontellsusthatyou’reatalentedartist,”shesaid,puttinghercoffeecuptoherlips.
“Oh,hedid,didhe?”Iasked,givinghimaraisedeyebrow.“Youliedtoyourmother?”
Hesmiledatme.“I’veneveractuallyseenoneofSloan’soriginalpieces.ButI’veverymuchenjoyedthecommissionedartI’veseenherdo.”
“Soyoulikedtheastronautcat?”Iteased.
“Ofcourse.Whowouldn’tlikeanastronautcat?”
“Ipaintforafewcompaniesthatoutsourcecommissionedartwork,”Iexplained.“IdosomefreelancestuffonEtsytoo.Quickpieces.Birchtrees,animalart.Thatkindofthing.Although,Jason,youhaveseenoneofmyoriginalpieces.Youdidlikeitverymuch,actually.Youjustdidn’tknowitwasmine,”Isaid,lookingathim.
“When?”heasked,hisbrowsdrawingdown.
“Theself-portraitthatyoulikeatmyhouse,”Isaidcarefully,lookingathim,willinghimtoknowwhatIwastalkingaboutwithoutmyhavingtosay,Theoneofmenaked?Inmybedroom,overmybed?Hisfamilydidn’tneedthatvisual.
Whenshockspreadacrosshisface,IknewheunderstoodwhatIwastalkingabout.“That’sapainting?”heasked,hismouthopen.“That’snotaphotograph?”
Hisreactiongavemeaswellofpride.I’dforgottenthatfeeling,thesatisfactionthatmyworkbroughtmewhenIsawthewayitaffectedothers.
“No,”Isaid,lovingthesurpriseonhisface.“Ipainthyperrealisticart.”
Hesatup,staringatme.“Sloan,that’s—that’sincredible.I’velookedatthatdozensoftimes,upclose.Ihadnoideathatwasapainting.”
“Dozensoftimes?Upclose?”Iaskedwithasidewayssmile.
ThenIturnedtohisfamily,notwantingtoleavethemoutoftheconversation.“Here’soneofmypaintingsthatsoldafewyearsago,”Isaid,swipingthroughthephotogalleryonmycellphone.WhenIfoundthepaintingthatI’dtitledGirlinPoppies,Ihandedthephonearoundtheroom.
“Idon’tpainttheseanymore,”Isaid.“They’reverylaborintensive.Ihavetotakeuptoahundredphotosofmysubjecttoworkoffof,andeachonetakesmeuptotwomonths.ButthisiswhatIusedtodo.”
Ididn’tshowmyartofflikethisveryoften,butIsensedJasonwantedtoimpresshisfamily,andIwasn’tveryproudofmycurrentjob,ifIwasbeinghonest.
“Sloan,thisiswonderful.Youhavetokeeppainting,”Patriciasaid,genuineaweinhervoice.“Youhaveagift.Nowonderyoutwohititoff.You’rebothsocreative.”
Shewasright,I’dneverthoughtofthat.Hisvoicewasonething,buthissongwritingwassomethingelse.Hislyricswerewherehereallyshone.Beautifulanddeep.TheywerewhatIlovedthemostabouthismusic.
Jasonlookedatmypaintingphotolast.Whenhehandedmyphoneback,hestaredatthesideofmyface.Andhekeptonstaring.Chapter22
Jason
?Everywhere|Roosevelt
Where’sthebathroom?”Sloanasked.
“Seconddoordownthehall,”Dadsaid.
“I’lltakeyou,”Ioffered,gettingupfromthecouch.Iwantedtogetheraloneanyway.Assoonaswewereoutofviewofthelivingroom,Ispunherandkissedheragainstthewall.
“Jason,yourparentsaregoingtocatchus,”shewhisperedthroughasmile,lookingbackthewaywe’dcome.
“Idon’tcare,”Ibreathedagainsthermouth.“Kissme.”
Theylovedher.I’dknownbeforeI’dbroughtherthattheywould.Shemademefeelproudtoknowher,likehavingawomanlikehercareaboutmewasitsownsortofachievement.WhensheandMomwenttothelivingroomafterdinner,DadhadtoldmeshewasremarkableandDavidhadaskedmewherethehellIfoundher.
WhenIpulledaway,wewerebothoutofbreath.
“Whydidn’tyoutellmeaboutthepainting?”Iasked.
God,howcouldshestopcreatingherownartwhenshehadsomuchtalent?Shemademewanttounravelher,takeherbyacornerandundoher.
“Iwantedtoseeifyou’dfigureitout.Besides,youdidn’ttellmeyouwereJaxonWaters,sonowwe’reeven,”shesaid,bitingherlipandglancingatmymouth.Thenshelookedbackup.“Hey,what’sameatraffle?”shewhispered.
Ichuckled.“It’sarafflewhereyouwinmeatasprizes.”
“Oh,Iwonderedwhyyourparents‘scoredmeatatabar.’Thatmakessensenow.”
Ilovedseeingherexperiencingmyworld.Iwantedtoshowhereverything.Butitwasmorethanthat.Iwantedtoshareeverythingwithher.LikeIdidn’twanttheretobeanythingthatshewasn’tapartof.Iwouldn’thavecomethisweekendifshehadn’tcomewithme.IwouldhavestayedinCaliforniatobewithher.
Distancefromherwasstartingtofeellikethetensiononabungeecord.ThefartherawayIgot,thestrongertheurgetocomebacktoher.Andthecordfeltlikeitwasgettingshorter.Likemythresholdfornotbeingwithherwaslowering.
WhatwouldIdoifIcouldn’tseeherwhenIwasontour?Itwouldkillme.AndhowwouldIevenexplaintoherwhyshecouldn’tvisit?Imessedaroundwithsomeunstable,violentwomanthatI’mbeingforcedtotourwith?ShemighthurtyouandIcan’tmakeyousafe?Here’sasongshewroteaboutmehavingsexwithher,sittingintheTop10?God,thewholefuckingthingmademecringe.IwaswaitingtoseeifErniecouldgetLolaofftheticketbeforeIsatdowntodiscussthesituationwithSloan.Iwasn’tcomingatherwiththisuntilIhadsomesortofgameplan.
“Youbettergo,”shewhispered.“They’regoingtothinksomethingisgoingonbetweenus.”
Igrinned.“Isn’tthere?”
ShesqueezedherselfsidewaysandoutfromundermeandcontinuedontothebathroomasIwatchedherwalkdownthehall.Shestoppedinthedoorwayandmadeashooingmotionatmebeforeshewentin,smilingandshakingherhead.
Istaredafterher,longaftershe’dshutthedoor,andIwonderedoffhandedlyifthiswaswhatDadhadfeltlikewhenhemetMom…
AndsomehowIknewthatitwas.Chapter23
Sloan
?IntoDust|MazzyStar
Jasonstaggeredintothekitchenat7:00a.m.withTuckerandfoundmenotonlyawakeandcaffeinatedbutshowered,dressed,andcookingwithhismom.
PatriciaandIhadcoordinatedthestarttimeforbreakfastlastnight,andItookmycookingdutiesveryseriously.Apparentlywewereexpectingalargecrowd.
“Goodmorning,ladies.”HeslidopenthebackdoorandletTuckerout.Hepouredhimselfablackcoffee,lookingunbelievablyadorablewithhismessyhairinhiseyes.
HisplaidpajamabottomsandgrayT-shirtmademewanttowrapmyarmsaroundhiswaisttoseewhathischestsmelledlike.Myheartpickedupalittlethinkingaboutit.
HeheldhismuginhishandandcamearoundtothestoveandgavePatriciaapeckonthecheek.ThenheturnedtomewhereIstoodcuttingamelonbythesink.“Didyousleepwell?”heasked.BeforeIcouldreply,heleanedinandgavemeaswiftkisstoo,onlyheputmineonthelips.Infrontofhismom
Iknockedoveracontainerofblueberries.
Nothingwasinappropriateaboutthekiss.Itwaskindofsweet,actually.I’djustbeenundertheimpressionweweregoingtobetotallyhandsoffinfrontofhisparents.He’dkissedmegoodnightlastnight,butonlyafterwalkingmetomyroom,andthehallwayhadbeenempty.
Patriciasmileddownatherfryingpan.
IntypicalJasonfashion,hegrinnedatthevictoryofcatchingmeoffguard.Hepoppedablueberryintohissmilingmouthandthenseemedtodecidehe’dembarrassedmeenoughforonemorningandexcusedhimselftotakeashower.
“Sorry,”IsaidtoPatricia,pickingupblueberriesfromthecounter,myfacehot.“It’slikehehastoflustermeonceadayorababybunnydiessomewhereorsomething.He’sverycommittedtoit.”
Shelaughedheartily.“Helearneditfromhisfather.Ithinktheylikethecoloritputsinourcheeks.”
Ismiled.HangingoutwithPatriciawasmyideaofagoodtime.Ilovedher.
Ahalfhourlater,JasoncamebackinandhelpedwithdishesandcleanupasPatriciaandIcooked.Hefoundanychancehecouldtoputahandonmybackortostandclosetome.Patriciatotallynoticedit.Shekeptsmilingatus.
Peoplestartedtofilterinforbreakfastaround8:30.TwocousinsofJason’s,threeofJason’sfriends,andaneighborwerejoiningtheLarsenmentodosomeworkaroundtheproperty,andthedealforfreelaborincludedfood.
Afterthemenwenttowork,IkeptfindingexcusestogooutsidetoseewhatJasonwasdoing.Ifoundhimontheroofpullingshingles.
Hewasn’twearingashirt.
Iwasalurker.Hisshirtlessbodyhadmecreepingonhimfromthetrees.I’dhaveusedbinocularsifIcouldhavedoneitwithoutbeingnoticed.Broad,strongshoulders,six-packabs,adefinedchestthatmademewanttotracethecontourswithmyfingers.Iwasmyboyfriend’sstalker.
Whenthemenpulledontheirwadersandstartedputtinginthedock,itwasalmostlunchtime.IlikedthedockprojectbecauseIcouldseeJasonfromtheslidingglassdoorsoffthekitchen,thoughhehadashirtonnow,soitwasslightlylessexciting.
WhenPatriciaandIbroughtsandwichesdown,wesetthemrightonthewoodenplankssothemencouldstandinthelakeandusethedockasatable.Theydescendedonthefood.Jasongrabbedtwosandwichesandabeerandwemovedtotheend,awayfromeveryone,andIsatdownwithmylegscrossedundermesoIcouldbebyhimasheate.Hestooduptohisstomachinwater.
“Areyouhavingfun?”Iaskedhim,mychininmyhand.
“Iamnow,”hesaid,smilingatme,takingabiteofaturkeysandwich.
Iwantedtokisshim.Helookedextraruggedandhandsometoday.Heavenhelpusbothifhedidonemoresexyman-thingaroundhere.Ifhetookoffhisshirtandstartedsplittinglogs,I’dprobablydraghimintoabushandlethimhavehiswaywithme.
“Howcoldisthatwater?”
Heshrugged.“Forty-five?Forty-sixdegrees?”
“Wow.That’scold.Butyou’redryinthere?”Ipeeredintothefrontofhiscamouflagedwaders.
“Wanttoputahandinsideandcheck?”Hiseyesgleamed.
Idippedthetipsofmyfingersintothelakeandflickedhimwithwater.Helaughed.
Thesunwarmedtheplanksofthedock.AspeakerplayedJourneysomewhere,andTuckerransoakingwetbackandforthalongtheshorewithabouthalfadozenotherdogs.Everypickuptruckthathadpulledontothepropertythismorninghadhadahuntingdoginthefrontseat.
“Ihaveaconfessiontomake,”Isaid,drummingmyfingersonmycheek.“Iwascheckingyououtontheroofearlier.Ididn’treallyneedtogetanythingoutofthecarthreetimes.”
Hegrinnedatmeoverhissandwich.“AndIhadtotalkmyselfdownfromsneakingintoyourroomlastnight.Onlythethoughtofmymomcatchingusstoppedme.”
“Ilockedmydoorlastnight.IfiguredImighthavetoprotectyoufromyourself.Iknowhowmuchofarisktakeryouare.”Itickedoffonmyfingers.“Kissingmeonafirstdate,volunteeringtomeetKristenandJosh,makingoutwithmeinthehallwaywithyourparentsintheotherroom.Youhavenoself-preservationinstincts.”
“NotwithyouIdon’t.”
Ilaughed.
HefinishedeatingandIgotupandgrabbedhimafreshbeerfromthecooler.“Doyouputinyourparents’dockeveryspring?”Iasked,sittingbackdowninfrontofhim.
Heputhishandonmythighandrubbeditabsentlywithhisthumb.“Itryto.They’regettingolder.Theyneedthehelp.”Hetookadrinkofhisbeer.“Youknow,Igotmystagenameputtinginthedock.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah.Itwasafewyearsago.David’soldest,Camille,wasthreeandshecouldn’tsayJason.SheusedtocallmeJaxon.Iwasstandinginthelakeandshepointedatmeandsaid,‘Jaxoninthewater.’Ilikedit,soIusedit.”
Igavehimasmile.“Iwonderedaboutthat.Therewasn’tanythingaboutitonyourWikipediapage.Iwasgoingtoaskyou.”
“Nobodyknowsthatbutmyfamily.Andyou.”
Ismiled,andwewatchedeachotherforamoment.“IwishIcouldkissyou,”Isaidquietly.“I’vebeenwishingIcouldkissyouallday.”
Aslowgrincreptacrosshisface.Heputhisbeerdown.“Well,Idon’tseehowIcanrefusethatrequest.”
Heclosedinonme,thelakeswirlingaroundhim,andhisfingerstraveledpastmyjawintomyhair.Hepausedamoment,grinninganinchfrommylips,andIinhaledhim,hismasculinesmell,thehopsonhisbreath,thefaintintoxicatingscentofhiscolognemixedwithhissweat.Thenheclosedhiseyesandkissedme.
Thehootsandwhistlesstartedalmostimmediately.Eventhedogshowled.
“I’mgonnacatchatonofshitforthis,”hebreathedagainstmysmilingmouth,hiseyesclosed.
“Well,Ihopeitwasworthit.”
Heansweredbykissingmeagain,andeventhoughthecheeringgotlouder,Idon’tthinkeitherofusreallyheardit.
Whenhebrokeaway,heputhishandsaroundmyfaceandheldmyeyeswithhis.“Thereportssaythere’sagoodchanceofseeingthenorthernlightstonight.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”Heglanceddownatmylips.“Ithappenslate,sowe’llprobablyneedatent,somesleepingbags.I’llsetusup.”Helookedbackupatme.
Myheartpounded.Iknewwhathewassayingtome.
Wewouldbealone.
***
Afterdinner,assoonasJasongotoutoftheshower,Itookaquickoneofmyown.He’dinstructedmetodresswarmly,soIputonalmosteverythingI’dbrought.
Hedouble-checkedmylayersandmumbledwithasmileabouthisCaliforniagirlgettingcold.Notsatisfied,hemademeputonhisbulkyTwinssweatshirt.Wesaidourgoodbyes,leftTuckerwithPatricia,andmadeourwaydowntotherackofcanoesoutsidethegarage.
Hehandedmesomepaddlestocarry,thenliftedacanoeseat-sidedownontohisshouldersandwalkedittothewater.Hetossedalargegreenpackinside.
Watchinghimcarrythatcanoesoeffortlesslywasvery,verysexy.
“Wherearewegoing?”Iasked,asheliftedmeinandhandedmealifejacket.
“Somewherespecial.”Hepulledonhisownlifejacketandsteppedrightintothefrigidwaterinhisboots.
Weslidacrossthelakeasthesunstartedtoset.Thehousefellawayfromview,andnothingbutnaturefoldedinoneitherside.Thetreesroseuplikesentinelsalongtheshorelineinanimpenetrablewalloffoliage.Therewasn’tthefaintesthintofanythingman-made,notahouse,notadockorboat.Notasinglepieceoftrashorevenaplanecrossingthesky.Itwasjuststillnessandthesoundofthepaddlechurningthewater.Occasionallyhewouldpointoutabeaverdamorabaldeagleflyingoverhead.Butbesidesthat,wedidn’ttalk.
Afteralongridehepulleduptosomerocksonanisland,bankingthecanoesideways,expertly.Hehoistedthepack,helpedmeout,andliftedthecanoefromthewaterandsetitonshore.
Wehikedintotheforestanduparise,comingoutintoarockyclearingoverlookingthelake.
“We’rehere,”hesaid,openingupthepackandpullingoutatent.
“Thisiswherewe’resleeping?”
“Yup,”hesaid,layingdownatentpad.“ThisistheBoundaryWaters.TwomillionacresifyoucombinetheCanadianandAmericansides—someofthemostpristinewildernessintheworld.”
IsmiledasIhelpedhimsetupthetent.Weblewupsomesleepingpadsandcampingpillows,zippedoursleepingbagstogethersowe’dbothfit,andtossedtheminside.Hesetuptwocampchairsandgotafiregoing,andwewatchedtheflamesjumpingasthelastofthelightfaded.
Icouldseeeverystarinthesky.Ihadn’tevenknowntherewerethatmanystars.ThiswasnothinglikeanykindofcampingI’deverdone.Thiswastrulyremote.Nocarsounds,nolightsprickinginthedistance.Nothingwithyouexceptwhatyoucarriedin.
Thewoodshifted,sparkscrackedandclimbed,andItuckedmylegsintomysweatshirtandhuggedthem.Jasonsatwithhiselbowsonhiskneesandhishandstogether,lookingattheflames.He’dgrownquiet.Theairsmelledlikepineandsmoke.Itgotcolderandcolderbythesecond.Ilookedoutoverthedarklaketowardthedistantsoundofthelappingofthewaterontheshore.“Icouldpaintthisplace.It’ssobreathtaking,”Isaid.
“Youshouldseeitinthefallandwinter.”Henestledanotherlogonthefireandsatbackdown.“Whichremindsme,IhavesomenewsIwantedtotellyou.”
“Goodnewsorbad?”
“Good.Imean,formycareerit’sgreat.Ihaven’ttoldanyoneyet,notevenmyparents.Mylabel’sextendedmytour.Twomoremonthshereandeightmonthsoverseas.It’sgoingtobeworldwide.”
Ibeamed.“Jason,that’samazing!”Andthen,almostasquicklyasIsaidit,Irealizedwhatitactuallymeant.“Wait…you’llbegoneforoverayear?”
Heshrugged,lookingatthefire.“Yeah.ButIgetafive-weekbreakinbetweenfortheholidays.Andthefirstlegofthetourislocal.”
Local.HemeantanywhereinAmerica.Followedbywhat?Eightmonthswherehe’dbegoingtosleepwhenIwaswakingup?Myheartsank,andIhidmyfrownbehindmyknees.
I’dbeenmentallypreparedforfourmonths.Ifiguredifthingsweregoodbetweenuswhenheleft,we’dkeepthisgoinglikewehadwhenhewasinAustralia.Iwasn’tlookingforwardtoit,butitwasdoable.Atworstthetimedifferencewouldbethreehours.MaybeI’ddrivetoseehimwhenhewasplayinginCaliforniaandVegasorflyouttobewithhimforafewdayseveryonceinawhile
Butthis?Thiswasdifferent.Thiswasverydifferent.Thiswasoverayear.Andeightmonthsofitwouldbeaten-plus-hourinternationalflightsomewhereifIwantedtoseehim.Massivetimedifferencescoupledwithgruelingschedules.I’dreadhisitinerary—itwasridiculous.Andhe’dalreadytoldmehowdifferentthistourwouldbefromthelastoneintermsofhisworkload.Thathewasheadliningandthatmeanthe’dberesponsibleforallthepromotingandthathissetsandrehearsalswouldbelonger.He’dbedoingmeetandgreetswithfansandhe’dbeonandoffplanes.
Myparentshaddonethelong-distancethingforyearswhenmydadworkedoverseas.KristendiditwiththeguyshedatedbeforeJosh.Iknewexactlywhatthislookedlike.Itwasaslowdeathofarelationship.Aseparationthaterodedeverything,littlebylittle,untilitwasstrippedcleanandyouwerepracticallystrangers,lonelyandattachedtosomeoneinvisible.
I’dbeenlonelyandattachedtosomeoneinvisiblefortwoyears.Iwouldn’tdoitagain.Icouldn’tdoitagain.
NotthatJasonwantedmetodoit.We’donlyknowneachothertwoandahalfweeks,soIdidn’tinanywayexpecthimtoaskmetocomewithhim—andevenifhedid,Iwouldn’t.Itwastoosoon.Ijustdidn’tmovethatfast.I’dbeenwithBrandonalmostthreeyearsbeforeImovedinwithhim.I’dbeenwithBrandonayearbeforeIevenwentonvacationwithhim.
NowIwonderedifJasonhadbeenpreparingmeforthisoverthelastweek.Everytimehe’dtalkedabouttheinsaneamountofworkhe’dbedoing,washesettingmeuptoletmedowngentlywhenthetimecame?HehadtoknowaswellasIdidthatthiswouldendus.
Wewentonlisteningtothehauntingsoundoftheloonsinthedarkness.Hedidn’tfurtherthediscussionandIwasglad.Ididn’twanttohaveabreakupconversationaroundthiscampfire,andjudgingbyhissilence,hedidn’tseemtowanttohaveoneeither.Heprobablywantedtoenjoythistime.SodidI.
WhenBrandondied,I’dwishedforonemoreday.Justonemoredaytobewithhimandbehappy.AndJasonandIstillhaddays.IfallIwasgoingtogetwasnowandthenextfewweeks,Iwantedtosavorit,evenifIknewitwasgoingtoend.
AshootingstartoreacrosstheskyandIlookedbackoverathimtofindhimlookingatme.Hehadhishandsclasped,hischeekrestingonhisknuckles.
“Whatareyouthinkingabout?”Iasked.
Therewasapausebeforehereplied.“You.Iseemtobedoingthatalotlately.”Anotherlongsilence.“WhatwasBrandonlike?”
“Brandon?”Jasonhadneveraskedabouthimbefore.Iletoutalongbreathandputmycheektomyknees.“Hewassteady.Strong.Hewasthekindofpersonyoucoulddependon.Loyal.”Ismiledalittle.“Hewouldalwaysservehimselflast.Ifwewereatabarbecueoraparty,he’dwaituntileveryoneelseservedthemselvesbeforehe’dmakehisownplate.Healwayswantedtomakesuretherewasenoughforeveryoneelsebeforeheeverthoughtabouthimself.”Myfacewentsoftatthememory.“Hewasgoodlikethat.Hewasagoodperson.”
Jasongazedbackatme.“Whathappenedtothedrunkdriver?”
Iscoffed.“Notenough.Shegottwoyears.Shegetsoutinafewmonths.Neverevensaidshewassorry.”
Welookedateachotherinthelightofthecampfire.
“Jason,Inevertoldyouthis.Maybeyoukindoffigured.Butyou’retheonlypersonI’vedatedsincehim.Like,theonlyone.It’sabigdealtome.Youareabigdealtome.”
Hedidn’tsayanything.Hestudiedmyface,thefirecastingawarmglowthatflickeredinhiseyes.IknewheunderstoodwhatIwastellinghim.Ihadn’tbeenwithanyoneintwoyears.Inanycapacity.
“You’reabigdealtometoo,”hesaidfinally,holdingmygaze.
Westaredateachotherandaneternitypassedintheseconds.
“Cold?”heasked.“Wanttogetinthetent?I’llleavetherainflyoffsowecanstillseethesky.”
Inodded.
Jasonpouredwateroverthefireandwesteppedinsidethetentandtookoffourshoes.Hehungalampfromthetoppoleandzippedthedoorclosed.Thenwesilentlystrippedoffourheavylayers.
JasonstoppedathisT-shirtandthethermalsheworeunderhispants.Heprobablydidn’twanttoassume.Butthat’snotwhereIstopped.
Itookeverythingoffbutmytanktopandmyunderwear.Iundressedwithoutlookingathim.IfIlooked,Imightbetoonervoustogothroughwithit.ButIcouldfeelhiseyesonmybodyasIsteppedoutofmypantsandstoodinthetentintheredG-stringI’dworn.I’dwornitonpurpose.I’dwornitforhim
OnceI’dtakenoffeverythingIdared,Iclimbedquicklyintothesleepingbag,myteethchattering.Theslickfabricwasfreezing.“Hurry,it’ssocold.”Ishivered.
HefollowedsuitandtookoffhisT-shirtandthermals,turnedoffthelight,andgotintothesleepingbaginnothingbuthisboxers.Hegatheredmeimmediatelyunderhim,cagingmebetweenhisforearmsandlegslikeahumanheatingpad.“Better?”heasked,lookingdownonmeinthedark.
Inodded,bitingmylip.“Better.”
Hewassowarm.Hesmelledlikesoapandminttoothpasteandjustahintofsmoke.Icouldfeelthecoarsenessofthehaironhislegs,rubbingagainstthenakedsmoothnessofmine.Thestrongmusclesofhisthighslockingmeinhisfirmembrace.Hiserection,growingharderwitheverybreathhetook,pressingintomystomach.
Hecaressedmycheekabsentlywithhisthumb.“You’reshaking,”hewhispered,andgently,carefully,hekissedalongmyjaw,hisbeardscratchingagainstmyskin.Itippedmyheadbackandhetrailedhislipsdown,archinghisbodyovermineasheworkedhiswaytomycollarbone.
Hedidn’tmoveagainstme.WhileIcouldfeelhewasturnedon,itwaslikehewantedmetoknoweverythingwasonmytermsandhewouldn’tinitiateanythingunlessImadeitclearIwantedhimto—itwasveryJasonofhim.
HewasalwaysrespectfulofwhatIneeded.IgotthefeelingthatifIfreakedoutandtoldhimtosleepoutside,hewould.Hewouldn’tevenquestionit.He’djustkissmegoodnightandgo.Havingthatcontrolmademefeelsafewithhim,liketonightwouldbewhateverIwasreadyforittobeandhewasokaywiththat.
Hehadnoideahowmuchitfurtheredhiscause.
Hisfingerstunneledthroughmyhairandworkeditfromitstie,releasingmybraid.Hecombedhisfingersthroughthestrandsuntiltheyfelllooseandfreearoundme.Hehoveredoverme,kissingmesoftlyuntiltheshiveringstopped.
Theforestsighedaroundus,andIexploredhim.InuzzledhisAdam’sapplewithmynose.Ranmypalmsalonghischest,overhisbroadshoulders,aroundthebackofhisneckandupthroughhisthickhair.Imoveddownhissideandoverhiswaist,brushingtheridgesofhissix-packwithmythumbs.Ilovedthescratchofhisbeardandthefirmnessagainsteverypartofmethatwassoft.Hewassomale—hardandhotandvirile.Everytimehemoved,hisscentshifted,anintoxicatingpheromonethatdrewmeincloser,madeeverythinghim
Itwaslikegettingusedtocoldwater.Climbinginalittleatatimeuntilyouweresubmergedandwarmandreadytoswim.
AndIwas…
Whenmyhandsslidacrosshislowerback,Ipulledhimintomeandmovedmyhipsagainstthelengththatlayacrossmystomach.Hisbreathwentragged.
Aninstantelectrictensionrolledbetweenus.Everythingchanged.Histenderkissesturnedserious,andIfeltasurgeofheatbetweenmylegs.Ipeeledoffmytanktop,andhismouthwasonmynakedskinbeforetheshirtwasovermyhead.
Acallousedhandglidedupmysideandcuppedmybreast.Thenhecamebackuptomylipsandhistongueplungedintomymouth.Inippedathisbottomlip,andhebitmeback,releasingmeonlytodevourmeagain.
Therewassomethingmorefocusedthanthelasttimewe’dfoundourselvesthisclose.Thattimeinmylivingroomhadbeenplayful.Thiswassomethingelse.Therewassomethinghungrieraboutit.Needier.
Iwantedhim.
Ipartedmykneesandlethimsettlebetweenmythighs.Heshifteddownsothetipofhimpressedrightintomethroughourunderwear.Theteasewasalittlemaddening—andIthinkheknewit.Itstrainedagainstmerightwhereitwouldslideineffortlesslyiftherewasnothingbetweenus,almostlikehewassaying,“Ifwetaketheseoff,youcanhavethis.”
Hedidn’thavetotellmetwice.
Ihookedmythumbsatthetopofhisboxers,yankingthemdown.Hekickedthemoffandputfingersunderthewaistofmyunderwear.Hepausedbreathlessly,waitingforpermission,andInoddedagainsthismouth,liftingmyhips.
I’dneverbeensoturnedonbythefeelofsatinslidingdownmylegs.Therewassomethingsocarnalabouthimdoingit.Hisfingernailsscrapedagainstmyskininhishurry,anditmadememoreturnedontoknowhowturnedonhewas,likehecouldn’tgetmenakedfastenough.
Hishandwentdowntoguidehimselfintome,andIcouldn’twaittofeelhim.Iheldmybreathforthemomenthewouldglidein—buthehoveredovermeandcircledhimselfinthewetnessalongtheoutsideofmyopeninginstead,holdingmyeyes.Justthetipin,thenout,teasingmeforaflickerofasecondinjusttherightspot.In,thenout.Circle,repeat.Circle,repeat.
Itfeltamazing—anditalsodrovememad.Itmademewanttoclawathisback,pullhiminsideme.
Circle,repeat.Circle,repeat.
Hewatchedmeashedidit,likehewantedtoseehowmuchIlikedit.
Mybreathlaunched,andIbeganpanting.
Iranmyhandsuphischest,andhetippedhisheaddownandsuckedafingerintohismouth.Needrippedthroughmelikeawildfire.
IrealizedsuddenlythatmuchliketheJaxonWatersthing,Jasonhadunderplayedyetanotheroneofhisabilities.Whenwe’dbeenmakingoutonmysofa,Icouldtellthatheknewthings,butmyGoddidheknowthings.Heknewexactlyhowtotouchme.
Circle,repeat.Circle,repeat.
Anorgasmwasbuilding,buteverytimeIfeltclosetocoming,he’dpullawayanditwasjustenoughtostopmymomentum.Hehadtoknowwhathewasdoing.Andeverytimehedidit,Iwonderedifthiswouldbethetimehe’dgoallthewayinorwouldhepulloutagainandstartover,makemeafractionwilderthanthelasttime?Theanticipationwasmakingmylegsshake.
IthoughtI’dbeenreadyforhimamomentbefore,butnowIrealizedIdidn’tknowwhatreadywas.Iwasdrenched.Ihadnoideahowhewasmaintainingthisdiscipline.Icouldseehowmuchhewantedme,feelhowhardhewas.Allhehadtodowasletgo.
“Wedon’thavetodoanythingyoudon’twantto,Sloan,”hesaid,hisvoicehusky.“Wecanstopatanytime.”
Icouldn’tstop,heknewIcouldn’tstop.Hewasteasingmewithinaninchofmysanity.Ifeltlikesomesex-crazedteenager.
Thiswasthekindofturnedonthatcloudedjudgment.Thiswasthelevelofhornythatgotagirlpregnantonpromnightinthebackseatofacar.Ialwaysconsideredmyselfimmunetothatkindoffrenzy—mostlybecauseIwasusuallytooself-consciousforit,especiallyforafirsttime.Myfirsttimeshadalwaysbeenslowandcareful,gettingtoknowsomeone’sbody.Itwasalwaysalittleawkwardandweird,andsoI’dexpectedthistimetobealittleawkwardandweird—butallofthatwasoutthewindownow.Ididn’tcareanymorewhatnoisesorfacesImade,Ididn’tcarethathewashoveringoverme,openlylookingdownatmynakedbody.He’dpushedmebeyondinhibition—andmaybethatwasthepoint.NowallIwantedwasthattiptogoallthewayin.
Thattip…
Iwantedtodothingstoit.TastethebeadofmoistureIknewhehadthere.Putitinmymouth,feelitbumpmythroat.Iwasalreadymakingplansfornexttime,imaginingallthewaysI’dmakehimcrazylikehewasmakingmecrazy.
Whywashedoingthis?WhywashemakingmewetterandmorefrustratedwhenhecouldfeelandseethatIwasready?Whatdidhewantfromme?
“Iwantyouinsideme,”Ibreathed.
Andthat’swhathewaswaitingfor.Iwatchedhiscontrolbreak.Hecrashedhislipsdownonmineandslidintome.
Itwasinstantpleasure.ApayoffbiggerthananythingIcouldhaveeverimagined,awaitbeyondworthit.
HisfirstthrusthitsomeinnerwallIdidn’tevenknowIhad.Itsentshockwavesofecstasythroughmywholebody.Thenhediditagain.Andagain.Andagain.
Igaspedunderhim,franticallyrollingmyhipsagainsthim.
Ilikedthewayhecircledbetweenmythighs.Iputmyhandsonhisbacktofeelhimmoving,andIhadthesex-cloudedrealizationthatIshouldhavedonethiswithhimdaysago.ThatI’dsleptnexttothismaninhistrailerandnottakenadvantageofwhathecoulddotomybodyifI’djustlethim.Iwantedtogobackintimeandyankthatpillowoutfrombetweenusandclimbontohislapandridehim.Iwantedtogobackandlethimtakemeonmysofa,lethimcarrymeinsideonourfirstdate,thesamewayIwantedtogobackandlethimsingtomesooner.HowmanymomentslikethishadIalreadymissedbecauseofmyownstupidhesitationsandrulesandreservations?
Andthenitoccurredtomethat’swhyhe’dtakenmetothisedge.Whyhe’dmademewanthimtothepointofinsanity,untiltheonlyanswercouldbeyes.BecauseheknewhowIwas,andhewasgettingaheadofmenowbeforemyoverthinkingkickedin.
IwouldhavelaughedifIwasn’tsooutofmymind.
Hehikedanelbowbehindmykneeandsomehowmanagedtodrivehimselfdeeper.Iletoutasoundthatmademegratefultherewasnoonewithintwomilestohearit,andhereleasedamoanofhisown.Iknewhewasclose.Hisbodywentrigidashenearedtheend,andtheorgasmthathe’dbeenworkingmeuptobuiltandbuiltontopofitself.Andthen,whenhegroanedandIfeltthewarmpulsinginsideme,myclimaxtippedoveranddecimatedme.
ItwasthefireworksfinaleontheFourthofJuly,adambreaking,anatomicbomb.Iwasleveled.Ihadnothingleftafterit.Icouldn’tevenmove.
Ilaythere,staringupattheskythroughthemeshceilingofthetent,seeingstarstwinkleacrossmyvisionthathadnothingtodowiththegalaxy.
Hisnosenuzzledmyneck.“Areyouokay?”hewhispered,stilloutofbreath
Imadeatinysqueakingnoise,andhelaughed.Heleaneddownandkissedmegently,closinghiseyes,smilingagainstmymouth.
Therewasareverenceinthewayheheldme,andallIcouldthinkwashowmuchIlikedtheweightofhimontopofme.HowsafeandanchoredandgroundedIfelt.
Howcherished
Ineverwantedtomovefromthisspot.
Therewasnothingoutsideofthistenttonight.Nothing.
Therewasnowheretobe,nophonetocheck.NolightstoturnoffordoorstowonderwhetherI’dlocked.Noteventhefaintwhitenoisethatcomeswithcivilization.TheonlypersonIwantedwithmewashere,andtheserenityofthelakeandwoodscombinedwithJason’sgentleaffectionmademerelaxinawayIhadn’tknownwaspossible.LikeI’dbeentensemywholelifeandhadn’tevenknownit.
Allthatwasleftwasus.
Abigscaryworldexistedsomewhere,wherebadthingshappenedandpeopleyoucaredaboutdied—orleftyouonfourteen-monthtoursaroundtheworld.Buttonighttherewasonlythis.AndIwashappy,andgrateful,tohaveit.
Evenifitwouldn’tlast.
***
ThenextmorningTuckermetusatthewater’sedgeaswedockedbackattheshoresofCampLarsen.Jasongrabbedmyassbeforehepickedupthecanoeandpack,andIgiggledandhithim.
Weweregoinghometoday,andwe’dalreadydecidedthathewasspendingthenightatmyplacetonight.
Hecarriedeverythingtothegarage,andIcameinwithhimtodropoffthepaddles,bothofusgrinning.Hehadn’tstoppedsmilingsinceheopenedhiseyesthismorning.NeitherhadI.
Weneverdidseethoselights.We’dbeenalittledistracted—allnight.Iwassoreandtired,andIcouldn’thavebeenhappier.
Well,unlessofcoursehewasn’tleavingme.ButthatwassomethingIwouldn’tletmyselfthinkaboutrightnow.
IfollowedhimthroughthegaragewithTucker,lookingaroundatallthetoys.TheLarsensweredefinitelyoutdoorsmen.Theyhadallthethings.Kayaksharnessedtotheceiling,threesnowmobilesundercovers,awalloffishinggear.Evenamotorcyclewasparkedintheleftstall.
“Yourdadrides?”IaskedasIlookeddownatacarefullyorganizedboxoffishinglures.
“Oh,themotorcycle?”hesaid,shoulderingofftheenormouspackandputtingitinthebedofPaul’struck.“No,that’smine.”
Ilookedupandblinkedatthebike.
His?Jason,onamotorcycle?Ididn’tknowhe—
Sand.
Invisiblegrainsofsandbegantofillmylungs.Everybreathgavemesand.Itpoureddownmythroat,heavyandthick,takingupthespaceinmychest,robbingmeofair,dryingoutmymouth.
Can’tbreathe.
Couldn’tgetanythingpasttheweightofit.Igasped.Tearsspilleddownmycheeks.Thepanicspread,thesandcoursedthroughmyveins.Icouldn’tmakeitstop.
Itdrownedme.Chapter24
Jason
?burnslowly/iloveyou|TheBrazenYouth
IhadjustslidthebackpackintoDad’struckandslammedthetailgateclosedwhenIheardTucker’swhimpers.Icamearoundthedriver’ssideandsawSloanwithherhandsoverhermouth,gaspingforair.
Ihadherinmyarmsinaninstant.
“Hey,hey,what’swrong?”Iheldherandtriedtotipherchinup,butsheburiedherfaceinmychestandsobbed.
Herwholebodyshook.Shewasabsolutelyterrified.
Myheartstartedtopound.“Sloan,whathappened?”Icouldhearthepanicbuildinginmyvoice.“Tellmewhat’swrong.”
Shedidn’treply.
IglancedoverhershoulderandmyeyesglidedovertheblackwheelsofmybikeandthenIrealized…“Isitbecauseofthemotorcycle?”
Shemanagedanod.
WithoutanotherwordIscoopedherupintomyarmsandranwithheroutside.
IthadbeentwoyearssinceBrandon’saccident.Shemusthaveseenthousandsofbikesbynow.Therewasonlyonereasonthiscouldbeupsettingher.Becauseitwasmine
WhenIsetherfeetdownonthelawn,Iheldherbythearmsanddippedmyheadtolookather.“Sloan,we’regoingtoworkonyourbreathing,okay?Lookinmyeyes.Inandout,slowandsteady.Canyoudothat?”
Shenoddedanddrewacareful,jaggedbreaththroughherlips.
“Listentome,”Isaid,holdinghergaze.“Nothingisgoingtohappentome,”Isaidslowly.“I’llsellit.Rightnow.Youhearme,Sloan?Iwon’teverrideoneagain.”
Sheletoutashudderingbreath,andtearsspilleddownherbeautifulcheeks.Tuckerpressedhimselfagainstourlegs,lookingupather,worried.
“I’msorry,”shebreathed.
Ishookmyhead.“Don’tapologizetome,no.Shhhhhhh…”
Shetookafewmoreraggedbreathsandwhenshestartedtalkingagain,itwassoquietIalmostcouldn’thearher.“Therewasbloodinhiseyes,Jason.Hisskinwasscrapedoffbytheasphalt.Allthewaytothebone.”
Herwordscamelikeapunchtomygut.Jesus.Whatdoyouevensaytosomethinglikethat?
Ihatedthis.Ijustwantedtoprotecther,tokeepherfromeverhavingtoendureanythingelsepainfulfortherestofherlife.IwishedIcouldwipeitclean.IfIcouldtakeitfromherandcarryitmyself,Iwould.
Everygaspandsobthatcamefromherslicedatmelikerazors.
Itwaslikemyheartwassplitdownthemiddle—IhadonehalfandSloanhadtheother.IknewwithoutadoubtthatfromthispointforwardI’dhavetocareforherbetterthanIcaredformyself—becauseIcouldneverbeokayifshewasn’t
Ittookafewminutes,butshecalmeddown.
Whenthetremblingstopped,Ikissedherforeheadandheldherfaceinmyhands.Herhairstucktoherwetcheek,andIbrusheditasideandtuckeditbehindherear.
“Ican’twatchanothermandieononeofthose,”shesaidsimply.“Please.Don’tevergetonone.Youhavetopromiseme,Jason.”
“Never.Ipromise,”Iwhispered.“I’mnotgoingtoleaveyou,Sloan.It’snotgoingtohappenagain.”
Shenodded,tookadeepbreath,andletmewalkhertothehouse,andthewholetimemymindkeptcirclingbacktothesamethought.
IwasgratefulthatI’dbeenthereforherthroughmymusicinherdarkesthours.ThatI’dreachedherandtouchedherandheldherinmyarmsforyears—eventhoughneitherofushadknownityet.
Iwantedtoreachherandtouchherandholdherinmyarmsforever.
BecauseIwascompletelyandtotallyinlovewithher.Chapter25
Sloan
?26|Paramore
Ithadbeenthreedayssincewe’dcomebackfromMinnesota,andeverymorningsince,ithadbeenafeatgettingJasonoutofbedandofftobeJaxonWaters.
“Don’tyouhavetogetready?”Igiggled.Hewasallhandstoday.“Zane’sgoingtobehereatseven.”
Hemadeadismissivemalegruntandtrailedhislipsdownmynakedchest,workinghisbareshouldersunderthesheets.Ismiled.
Jason’snewpersonalassistant,Zane,hadstartedonMonday.Atough-looking,no-nonsensewomanwithapompadour,cuffedjeans,andanakedladytattooedonherforearm.ShespokeSpanish,wasexperienced,knewherwayaroundLA,andshewasamazing
Shedrovehimtohisappointmentssohedidn’thavetodealwithtrafficandshemadesureheateandgottoplacesontime.Zaneturnedouttobeexactlywhatheneededbecausehisschedulehadofficiallybecomeridiculous.
HissoundtrackwasbeingreleasedonFriday,andhehadradioandTVinterviewsandphotoshootseverydaythisweek.Thethemesongforthemoviewasparticularlypromising.NextweekendhewasevenplayingSaturdayNightLive
Jasonstartedpullingmyunderweardown.Iwriggled,tappinghisshoulder.“No,no,no.Comeon,getintheshower.”
Hisheadpoppedupfromunderthesheetandhegavemeasadpuppydoglook.
Ismiledathim.“Iwon’tcontributetoyourdelinquency.YouhavethatKROQthingtoday.”
Heletoutasighandrolledoffmeontohisback,puttinganarmoverhisface.“Youmakemeinsane.Ican’tkeepmyhandsoffyou.”
Mycellphonepinged,andIleanedoverwithagrinandreachedforit.
“Who’sthat?”heasked.Itwasbarely6:15inthemorning.
“Yourmom.”
“Mymom?Shedoesn’ttext.”
“Shetextsme,”Isaid,flashinghimthescreenandthengoingbacktotypingaresponse.
“Unbelievable.”
“Well,she’snotgoingtocallmeandreadmearecipeoverthephonelikeacrazyperson,”Isaid.“It’seightfifteenthere.Shefoundarecipeinamagazineforsloppyjoesshethinksyou’lllike.AndshewantstoknowifIknowhowtomakeacompote.”
“Doyou?”
Isnorted.“Well,yeah,ofcourse.”
HeproppedhimselfuponhiselbowandlookedatmeandIsetthephonedownonmychest,smiling.“What?”
“Goonadatewithmetonight.”
“Youmeangooutside?”
Wehadn’tspentanytimetogetheroutofbedsincewe’dcomebackfromMinnesota.He’dspentthenightatmyhouseforthelastthreenights.Ilovedit.Ilovedgoingtosleepinhisarmsandwakinguptohim.
“Letmewineanddineyou,”hesaid.“Walkwithyouonthebeachandholdyourhand.”
Iputmyarmsaroundhisneck.“Yes,I’llgoonadatewithyou,mymusicman.”
HekissedmedeeplyandIthoughtforasecondIwasgoingtohavetoremindhimabouthiscalltimeagain.Buthebrokeawayandrubbedhisnosetomine.“Hey,whatdoyouthinkaboutmeusingthatemptybottomdrawerinthedresser?Maybeunpackmybackpack?Hangitinthecloset?”
Therequesthitmelikeabucketoficewater.Myresponsewassoknee-jerkIdidn’thavetimetoreinitin.Ibitmylipandshookmyhead.“No.Ican’t.”
Thelightfadedalittlefromhiseyes,buthejustsmiledatme.“Okay.”
Hegavemeaquickkiss,gotoutofbed,wenttothebathroom,andclosedthedoor.
Isatupandputmyhandstomyface.Feelingspingedoffme,firinginalldirections.
Whywashedoingthistome?Pretendingthisrelationshipwasgoingtobeabletoprogresslikeanyotherone?Thiswasn’treallife.Thiswasjustanin-between.Hecouldn’tputthingsindrawers.
Hewasleaving
Iwasdoingeverythinginmypowertotryandenjoythistime.Wehadsolittleofitleft.Thestartdateofhistourloomedinfrontofmelikeatidalwave.Itwascoming,anditwouldbetheend.Sothenwhydidhewanttoputmethroughthis?Emptyingoutadresseragain?I’dalreadydoneitoncethisyearandithadbeenhardenough.
Ithrewoffthesheets,putonmyrobe,andsatontheedgeofthebed,staringattheguitarhe’dproppedonthechairandchewingmylip.ThepipesknockedinthewallasJasonturnedontheshowerandIcalledKristen.Itwasearly,butOliveralwaysgotherupat6:00,andsheansweredonthesecondring.
“Jasonwantsadrawer,”Iwhispered.
Thebabyfussedinthebackground.
“Uh,thengivehimafuckingdrawer?”
“Kristen,he’sleaving.Heshouldbelivingoutofabackpack.That’sexactlythenatureofthissituation.Thisrelationshipisn’tahouse.It’satent.Whykeepthingshereandactlikeitisn’tallgoingtocometoanendintwoweeks?”
“Isitcomingtoanendintwoweeks?Imean,haveyouguyseventalkedaboutit?”
Ichewedmythumbnail.“No,notreally.Butitwon’tchangeanythingifwedo.I’mnotdoingthelong-distancethingforfourteenmonths.”
“Whatifhe’splanningtoaskyoutogowithhim?Whywouldhemakeyouhisgirlfriendandtakeyouhometomeethisparentsifhewasn’tseriousaboutthisrelationship?”
Ishookmyhead.“Idon’tknow.Hedidn’ttellmethetourwasextendeduntilwewereinEly,somaybehejustfoundout?Heprobablywentintoallthiswiththebestintentions,buthiscircumstanceshaveobviouslychanged.AndI’mnotgoingwithhimevenifhedoesask.I’vebeenhisgirlfriendforaweek.I’mnotrunningoffontourwithhim,andtalkingaboutitisjustgoingtomakethebubblepop.Ijustwantedtobeblissfullyignorantforafewmoredaysandthenhewentandbroughtupdrawers.”
IthinkJasonandIwerebothkindofpretendinghistourwasn’thappening.Whowantedtobetheonetothrowawetblanketonthis?
“Well,bubbleorno,youneedtofuckingtalkaboutit.Andgivethemanadamndrawer.He’shadhismouthoneveryinchofyourbody.Hecan’tputsocksinadresser?”
Iputmyforeheadintomypalmandpushedbackmyhair.“Idon’tknowifIcanplayhousewithhim,Kristen.It’sgoingtobetoohardwhenwebreakup.”
Shesnorted.“There’snowayyou’relettingthisdudego.You’relikehalfinlovewithhimalready.”
“Oh,I’mlettinghimgo.Ihaveto.”
Shescoffed.
Irolledmyeyes.“Ican’twaitfourteenmonthsforamanI’veknownthreeweeks.”
“Why?AtthreeweekswithJosh,Iwouldhavetattooedhisnameacrossmyboob.You’llhangontoacarthat’sbarelyrunningjustbecauseyouhadyourfirstkissinit,butyouwon’tstickoutalong-distancerelationshipwithamanwhogivesyoumultipleorgasmsandmakesyouinsanelyhappy?”
Ishookmyhead.“DidyouknowthatIkeptabeerbottleinthegarageforthelasttwoyearsbecauseBrandondrankoutofit?Like,whatkindofcrazyisthat?IamsotiredofbeingmoresentimentalabouteveryoneandeverythinginmylifethanIamaboutmyself.ForonceIwanttobetherationalone,Kristen.Ididn’tevenlikelosingBrandontothefirestationfortwodaysinarow.Stayingwithamanwho’sgoingtobegoneforayearwillmakememiserable—evenifIamhalfinlovewithhim.I’minanin-between,andifIkeepmakingdecisionsthatburymethere,I’llnevergetoutofit.”
Shemadeawhistlenoise.“Wow.Youreallyareonaself-improvementkick.”Thebabygiggledinthebackground.“Look,I’mgladyou’regettingyourshittogether,Sloan.Ireallyam.Andifyouthinkyouneedtoenditwhenheleaves,dowhatyougottado.Butgivethemanafuckingdrawerinthemeantime.Ifyou’regivinghimyourvaginayoucangivehimadrawer.”
Isnorted.“God.I’mamess.”
“Yeah,butyou’rethefunbusted-pi?atakind.That’swhythisguy’salloveryou.Look,Igottago.Oliver’sbeingahandful.Ijustgotfire-hosed.Callmelater.”
WhenIheardtheshowerturnoff,IknockedonthebathroomdoortothesoundofJason’selectricrazor.HecalledmeinandIleanedbackonthesinknexttohim,mybeltlesssilkrobefallingopen.Hegavetheslitanappreciativeglance.
Hewasn’tmadatme.
Theroomwassteamyandsmelledlikehiscologne.Hehadatowelaroundhiswaistandhestoodoverthesink,trimminghisbeard.
Somethingaboutthecasualroutinestirredfeelingsinme.Itfeltsorighttohavehimhere.Hispresencedidn’tevenfeelnew.ItfeltfamiliarandnormalanditgavemeapreemptivesadnessthatIsuspectedwouldgrowwitheverydaythatbroughtusclosertohisdeparturedate.
Inafewweeks,hewouldbegone.Thebathroomwouldbeempty.Tuckerwouldgowithhim.Jasonwouldn’tcomeoveranymore.Andtheclothesinthedrawerhewantedwoulddisappear.
Empty,again
“Don’tworry.”Hewinkedatme.“I’llcleanthesink.Youwon’tevenknowIwashere.”
Theirony.
Igavehimaweaksmile.God,Iwasanutjob.InthelastweekI’dshownJasonenoughcrazytoscareoffanyone.He’dseenmeblackoutdrunkandwashedbarfoutofmyhair.He’dsatwithme,surroundedbypilesofmydeadfiancé’sclothing,andwatchedTV.He’dheldmewhileIhadapanicattackandevenofferedtosellhismotorcyclesoitwouldn’tupsetme.Iwasknee-jerkemotionalresponses,aminefieldofbaddaysandwallstoteardown,andtheypoppedupatrandom,withoutwarning.
Andhedidn’tcare.
Forsomereasonthisgorgeousmanwholookedlikehecouldbeinadamnelectricrazorcommercialwasallin—evenifwewereabouttobeallout—andIwouldn’tevengivehimafuckingdrawer.
Ileanedthere,watchinghimruntherazordownhisneck,andheglancedatmewiththoseblueeyesandImissedhimalready.
“You’reaverypatientman,aren’tyou?”
Heslidhiseyesdownmybodyandraisedaneyebrow.“Well,it’spaidoffsofar.”
ThebreaththatIblewthroughmylipswasoneofresolve.Soitwouldn’tlast.Okay.ButI’dgiveiteverythinguntilitended.
Iheldupakey.
Jasonfrozeandhisrazorclickedoff.
Ipressedthekeytohisbarechest,overhisheart.“Usewhateverdraweryouwant,”Isaid.“Parkyourtruckinthegarage.Nomoreringingthedoorbellwhenyoucomehome.Okay?”
Thesmileonhisfacemademyhearthurt.Idon’tknowthatI’deverseenhimlookthishappy.
“Okay,”hewhispered,puttinghispalmoverthehandonhischest.
We’dhaveitall…rightupuntilwewouldn’t.Chapter26
Jason
?Broken|Lund
Itypedinmytextandheardthepingfromacrossthestore.
Jason:You’resofucked.Oneword:pleather.
Sloan:Howdoyoufeelabouttaxidermy?
Jason:Howdoyoufeelaboutthe70s?
ATalkingHeadssongplayedinthebackground,andIlookedovertheracksofthemustySantaMonicathriftstore.Sloanglancedupatmefromacrosstheroomandnarrowedhereyes.Ibeamedbackather.
She’dhadZanedropmeoffatGoodwillsoshecouldchallengemetoagameonourdatenight.Weeachgotfifteendollarstobuysomethingtheotherpersonhadtowearfortherestoftheevening.Itwasactuallyaprettyhilariousidea.ButwhenIheardSloanlaughallthewayacrossthestore,Iknewitwasn’tgoingtoendwellforme.
“Yourbraveryisabouttobetested,”shesaidoutsidetenminuteslater.Shewasadorable.
“Nothingscaresme.”
“Really?Ithinkthismightscareyou,”shesaid,pullingoutalongredcapewithlittletacosonitandholdingitoutbythecorners.
Iranmyhandthroughmyhairandshelaughed.
“Okay.It’sacape.Icandoacape,”Isaid,alaughinmythroat.“I’mmanenough.”
“Itendtoagreewithyouonthat.”
“Yourturn.”I’dhitcomedygoldinthere.Ipulledoutafootiepajamawithaunicornheadforahood.Itevenhadatail.SheblanchedandIstartedcrackingup.
“DoIhavetowearthehood?”sheasked.
“Absolutely.Andthebelt.”Iproducedawrestlingchampionshipbeltmadeofgoldplastic.
Shemadeaface.“Fine.ButI’mnotdonewithyou,”shesaid.“Now,Iknowwhatyou’rethinking.You’rethinkingthatyou’rethisfamousguy”—shemadejazzhands—“andyoucan’tgetphotographedwalkingaroundtheSantaMonicaPierinthis.ThatitwouldbebadforyourimageandPiawouldlectureyouandblahblahblah.ButIwantyoutoknowI’vemadearrangementsforthisbecauseI’maverythoughtfulgirlfriend.”
Sheturnedawayfrommeandputsomethingon.Whensheturnedbackaround,Ihowledwithlaughter.Sheworeflesh-coloredplasticsunglassesthatlookedlikehandsoverhereyes.Thereweregapsbetweenthefingerstoseethrough.
Webothlaughedsohardwewerecrying,andIgrabbedherandpulledherintomychest.
Icouldn’tlivewithoutthis.Iwantedhertocomeontourwithme.
Ididn’tcarewhatIhadtodotomakeithappen—payherbills,bribeKristenforsupport.Begher.
IwasstillwaitingtohearbackfromErnieonwhetherwecouldgetLolaofftheticketbeforeItalkedtoSloanaboutit.Butwhicheverwayitwent,IalreadyhadaplantoseeherwhenIwasontheroad.Ifshecouldn’tgowithmeorvisitbecauseofLola,I’dcometoherasmuchaspossible.Andtherewasthefive-weekbreakfortheholidays.We’dtalkonthephoneandwe’dSkype.We’ddonethephonethingbefore.Weweregoodonthephone.Wecoulddoitagain.
Weputonouroutfits.Sloan’sneededsomealtering.Weborrowedscissorsfromthethriftstoreandcutthefeetoffsoshecouldwearhershoes.Shesaiditwashot,sowecutthearmsofftoo.
“There,”shesaid,unzippingthefrontandpushingherboobsup,thecrookedhornonherhoodbouncing.“Sexyunicorn.”
Ilookedatherthroughtheplasticfingersofmynewsunglasses.“Areyousatisfiedwithyourself?Lookwhatyou’vedonetous.”
“Iamsatisfied,thankyou.”Shecockedherheadatmetriumphantly.
“You’renuts,youknowthat,right?”
“You’renutstoo.”Sheslippedherhandsaroundmywaistandhuggedme,lookingupatmewithherchintomychest.“Oh!Wehavetotakeapictureandsendittoyourmom.”
Wetookafewfunnyselfiesandshotthemover.IlovedthatsheandMomhadhititoff.Iloveditsomuch.
Wewalkedtowardthepalm-linedThirdStreetPromenade,holdinghandsasthesunwentdown.WeelicitedalotfewerlooksthanwewouldhaveinElydressedlikethis.Wealmostwentunnoticed,actually.Iwasgratefulfortheglasses.I’dbroughtahatandsomesunglassessoIwouldn’tgetrecognized.Iwasdoingalotofappearancesnow,andmoreoftenthannotthesedays,someonesomewherewouldknowwhoIwas.SantaMonicawastouristy.ThelastthingIwantedwastoendupsigningautographswhileoutwithSloan.ButIthinkthecapeandthefingerglassesdidabetterjobofconcealingmyidentitythanmyoriginalplan.Nobodyexpectedatacocape–wearingJaxonWaters.
SloanstoodatashopwindowlookingatamannequinandIcameupbehindherandwrappedmycapearoundher.“Hey.Iwanttotalktoyouaboutsomething.”Iputakissonthesideofherheadandshesmiledatmeinthereflectionintheglass.
“Iwaswonderingwhereyouwantedtospendmyfive-weekbreak.Wecanbeherethewholetimeifyouwant,butIknowMomwouldlikeitifwecameforThanksgiving.”
Iwatchedhersmilemelt.
Sheturnedtofaceme.“Jason…”
Hervoicewasapologetic.Myheartsank
“Jason,Ithinkweneedtoberealistic,”shesaidgently.“You’regoingtobegoneoverayear.You’llbeontheroadthewholetime,indifferenttimezones—”
“Wait…”Iblinkedather,notbelievingwhatIwashearing.“Youwanttobreakup?”
Hereyeswentsoft.“Idon’twanttobreakup.ButIdon’tseehowit’sgoingtoworkeither.”
Ishookmyhead.“Sloan,we’vedoneitbefore.”
“Fortwoweeks.Whenyouwereopening.Butyou’llbeheadlining.You’llbesobusyyouwon’tevenhavetimetothinkaboutme,letalonecallme.Sometimesevenbackthenyoucouldn’tfindtimetocallme.”
Itookoffmystupidfingerglassesandtookastepclosertoher.“We’renotbreakingup,”Isaid.“No.”
“Jason,”shesaidsoftly.“Idon’twantwhatwehavetobeburied.Idon’twanttostruggletoremembergooddayslikethisone.”
Iputmyhandsonherarms.“Wewon’t.We’llhaveplentyofgooddays.We’llSkype,andI’llcallyou.I’llcomevisityouwheneverIcan.It’llbehard,butwejusthavetoputintheeffort.”Ishookmyhead.“Sloan,whatdidyouthinkweweredoinghere?Didyoujustthinkthiswassomeflingforme?”
“Ofcoursenot.That’snotwhatitisformeeither.”Shelickedherlips.“Butyourcircumstanceshavechangedand,Jason,Iknowwhatthislookslike.MydadworkedoverseaswhenIwasgrowingup.Itdestroyedmyparents’marriage.Firstwe’llgoadaywithouttalking.Thentwo.Thenaweek.Thenyouwon’tevenbeabletorememberthelasttimewespokebecausenottalkingtoeachotheristhenewnormal.AndIknowmyself,Jason.I’llbeamessthewholetime.Youwon’tlikewhoI’llbecome.I’llbeparanoidbecauseIwon’tknowwhatyou’redoingandresentfulthatyou’renotmakingtimeforme,andyou’llgetfrustratedthatIwantyourattentionwhenyou’respreadsothin.Wewon’tknoweachotheranymore,andwe’llbothbelonely,eventhoughwe’retogether.”Sheputherhandsonmychestandlookedupatme,herbeautifulbrowneyessad.“Jason,Ispentsomuchtimebeinglonelyandunhappy.AndIjustcan’tdoitagain.Ican’tgofromthistothat.Ican’t.Iwon’t.”
ThemomentwhereIshouldhavesaid,“Thencomewithmeontour”hungbetweenusandthenpassed.LolamadeitsoIhadnochoicebuttoletitpass.
“Sloan,don’tdothis,”Isaid,myeyesbeggingher.“Please.”
Istudiedherface.Thedeterminedsetofherjaw,hersteadyeyesholdingmine.Hermindwasmadeup—andtheworstpartwasIknewshewasright.
Itwasonethingformetowanttostickitout.Iwasn’thappyaboutthewaythingswouldbelongdistanceeither,butI’ddoitbecausethealternativewasknowingshewasouttherewithoutme,datingotherpeople.Anditwasmyfaultitwashappeningbecauseitwasmyjobseparatingus.
Butitwasn’tfairtoaskhertodealwiththisshittysituation.She’dbeensomiserableforsolongIdidn’tevenwanthertohavetodealwithit.Iwantedhertobehappy.
I’djusthopedthatbeingwithmewouldbethewayforhertodothat.
Iswalloweddowntheknotinmythroat.“Ifyouneedtodothisforyou,thendoit.ButI’mwaitingforyou,andwhenmytourisover,I’mcomingbackforyou.”Itookastepclosertoher.“Tellmeyou’lltakemeback.Aslongasyou’renotwithsomeb—”Ihadtostopforamomenttocomposemyself.Ishutmyeyesandletoutasteadyingbreathbeforeopeningthemagainandlookingdownonher.“Pleasetellmewhenmytourendsthatyou’llletmecomeback.”
“Jason,don’taskmetopromisethat.Andyoushouldn’tpromisetostaysingleeither.”
“Why?”
“Becausethenwe’rebothjustwaitingforeachother.”
Ishookmyhead.“Thenlet’swait.Betteryet,let’snotbreakup.”
“I’vegiventhisalotofthought.”Shepausedforalongmoment.“Ican’treplacetheshrineIhadforBrandonwithanewshrineforyou.”
Thewordslingeredbetweenusandsheheldmygaze.“Let’sjustenjoythetimewehaveleftandenditinagoodplace.Andyou’reright.Maybeafteryourtourwe’llfindeachotheragain.Itwon’tbegoodbye.It’lljustbegoodbyefornow.Okay?”
Itwasamazinghowmuchthishurt.Thepainwasalmostbreathtaking.IfeltlikeI’djustbeentoldIhadtwoweekslefttolive.
ButcouldIexpectanythingdifferent?WhothefuckwasIanyway?Someguyshe’dknownlessthanamonth?
SloanwasalwaystwostepsbehindwhereIwasinourrelationship.Iknewthat.Butifshecouldbearlosingme,thenmaybethisreallywasone-sided.BecauseifshefeltformeevenhalfasmuchasIfeltforher,shecouldneverstomachlettingmego.
Andshewaslettingmego.
Thiswasn’tthesamereclusive,grievingwomanI’dmetonthephone.Thiswomanwouldmeetsomeoneatthegymoratanartgalleryopening,andbythetimeIcamebackaround,she’dbelosttome.Iwaslosingheralready.
AndtherewasnothingIcouldfuckingdoaboutit.
WeatedinneratanItalianplaceandthenwalkedthroughthepromenadetowardthepier,droppingintosomeofthemoreinterestingshops.Thetreeswerelitwithtwinklelightsnowthatthesunhadgonedown.Wethrewpenniesinthefountainandlookedatthesculptedhedges.Wegoticecreamandwatchedastreetperformersingandwedroppedfiftybucksinhisguitarcase.SloanboughtMomateapartycookbook.
Itriedtoenjoyit.Ilaughedinalltherightplacesandsmiledsothatitreachedmyeyes.ButallIsawnowwastheending.
Westoodatacrosswalkonourwaytothepier.Sloanhuggedmefromtheside,pressinghercheekintomychest,andIlookeddownonherhornedhoodieandsuddenlyIwantedtotellherIlovedherforthefirsttime,rightthere,onthatbusyintersection.
Itwasnothinglikewhattheyshowinthemovies.Noromanticsetting,nosoftmusicplaying.WehadahomelessguyinamuscleshirtholdingaSuperBigGulpafootawayfromus.Someteenagerstookselfieswhileaguyinasauce-stainedpizzeriaapronimpatientlypressedthecrosswalkbutton.Weweren’twalkingonthebeachorsittingatthetopofaFerriswheel.Shejustwrappedherarmsaroundmywaist,wearingthatstupidfuckingoutfit,andallIcouldthinkwasthatIlovedher.
Butnowwewerebreakingup.WhatwasthepointintellingherhowIfelt?Tomakeherfeelguilty?Orlikeshehadtosaysomethingbackthatshewasn’treadytosay,orpossiblydidn’tevenfeel?
Thelightturnedgreen,wecrossed,andthemomentpassed,andsheprobablyhadnoideaithadevenhappened.Butithadhappened.Anditwasgoingtokeeponhappening.EverytimeIlookedatheritwouldhappen.
ItwouldhappenevenwhenIcouldn’tlookatheratall.Chapter27
Jason
?BloodintheCut|K.Flay
LolaroareduponherHarleyinfrontofGrauman’sChineseTheatre,andthecamerasfireduphungrily.Shelovedtomakeanentrance,andshealwaysdiditlate.Fuckingannoying.
“Forty-fiveminutes,”IgrumbledtoPia,lookingatmywatch.Itwas6:47p.m.God,Ihatedher.
Erniewasofftheredcarpet,onthephonewithafingerinhisear.We’dbeenwaitingforLolatoshowforalmostadamnhour.Iwascontractuallyobligatedtopromotethemoviehoweverthestudiosawfit,andLolaandIhadcollaboratedonthesoundtrack,sounfortunatelywewereapackagedealatthemoment.Theywantedredcarpetpicturesofmewithher,soI’dbeenforcedtostandaroundoutsideintheblazingHollywoodheatuntilshegothere.Itwaseighty-fiveintheshade.Sweattrickleddownmyback.Islidmyfingersintomycollarandtuggedattheneckofmytieirritably.
I’dhadtotellSloanIcouldn’tgetaticketforhersolate—whichwastrue.Theseatingarrangementshadalreadybeenmade.ButIcouldhavebootedErnie.Instead,I’dhadtoleaveSloanathomebecauseLolawasgoingtobehere,alloverme,andIdidn’tknowwhatkindofshitshowitwasgoingtobe.
IthadbeenthreedayssinceSloantoldmeshewantedtobreakupwhenIleft.Wehadthirteendaysuntilmytourandeveryminutecountednow.Ididn’twanttobeherewithouther,wearingthismonkeysuit,waitingforLola.Iwantedtobeinmyunderwear,tuckedinbedwithmygirlfriend,watchingTV.ThefactthatSloancouldn’tbeherewithmeandtheknowledgethatLolawastoblameforthatinfuriatedme.NottomentionthiswasawholedayawayfromSloanwhenourtimetogetherwasalmostup—andthatwasLola’sfaulttoo.
Iwasn’tdoingwell.
Ihadn’tbeendoingwellsinceSloanpreemptivelybrokeupwithme.Icouldn’tfuckingsleep,andIdidn’tfeellikeeating.
Allofmywildestdreamswerecomingtrue.Iwasstandingonaredcarpetwithsuperstars,promotingamajormotionpicturesettomymusic.Iwasabouttoleaveonamassiveworldwidetour.Iwasachievingallmycareergoals,andsomehowIwasabouttoenduplosingtheonethingthatsuddenlymatteredthemosttome.Iactuallyresentedmysuccessnow,wishedIcouldjustfuckingwalkawayfromitortakelessofitinexchangeforher.
Ididn’tcarewhatSloansaidaboutnotwantingmetowaitforher—Iwasn’tdatingotherpeopleduringoursplit.Icouldn’t.Thefactthatshemaybecouldfuckingkilledme.Iwastryingnottothinkaboutit.AndnowIwashere,wastingtheprecioustimeIhadleftwithherdealingwithLola.
Ilookedmoodilyatheronherbike.Sheworefour-inchredheelsandshinyblackpleatherskinnypants.Hernipplespressedintotheredribbonoffabricthatsheconsideredashirt.She’dactuallyriddenhereinthatshit.
Shetookoffherhelmetandherredhairtumbledouttothescreamsoffansbehindthelinestanchionsfollowedbyastrobelightofcameraflashes.
Iletoutacontrolledbreath,makingsuretokeepmyfaceneutral.
Piaputahandonmyarm.“Ready?”
“IwilldoasI’mtold,”Isaidunenthusiastically,lookingawayfrommynemesisposingonherHarley.
Piahadcoachedmeextensivelyontoday.SheknewallaboutmyissueswithLola.Myrelationshipwithmypublicistwasalittlelikearelationshipwithadoctororlawyer.Ihadtobehonest,orshecouldn’thelpme.
“Justremembertobediplomatic,”Piasaiddiscreetly.“Youcan’tundophotos.Ifshetouchesyou,don’treact.Smileandlookrelaxed.Don’tgivethemanythingtospeculatewith.Anddon’tletherworkyouup.”
Inodded,myclenchedfiststheonlythingrevealingmymood.
Erniefinishedhisphonecallandmadehiswaybackover.Hewasbeaming.“Doyouloveme?Tellmeyouloveme.”Herubbedhishandstogether.
“What,”Imumbled,watchingLolaclimboffherbikewithashakycoordinationthattoldmeIwasnotwitnessingamomentofsobriety.
“Ijustgotoffthephonewithyourrecordlabel.”
Myheadsnapped.
“She’sofftheticket.”
IttookmeasecondtoprocesswhatIwashearing.“What?Whatdoesthatmean?She’sout?”
“Imadetheargumentthatshecausesyouunduestressandyou’dbeoutwithastomachulcertwoweeksintoitiftheyforcedheronyou.ImayhavealsosuggestedthatI’dhitherwithtrespassingforcomingontomypropertyuninvitedtheothernightiftheywantedtopushthesubject.She’salreadykneedeepinKanyefalloutandtheyneedhertostayoutofjail.”
IstaredathimforasolidtensecondsbeforeIstartedtolaugh.Icouldn’tevenfuckingbelieveit.ItwasthebestnewsI’dhadinyears.Ihuggedhimandheslappedmyback.
“Butlisten,”hesaid,puttinganarmaroundme,hisvoicelow.“AndIneedyoutopayattentionbecausethere’sstipulations.Theysaidaslongasyouputassesinseatsyoucangoitsolo.ButIhadtoagreethatifyou’restruggling,theygettobringherin,nocomplaintsfromyou,noquestionsasked.AndIcouldn’tgetthemtobendonthefogmachineandpyrotechnics.Thoseguysreallylikefireworks.”
“Yeah,yeah.Notaproblem.”Ibeamed.
IwasgoingtoaskSloantocomeonmytourassoonasIgothome.I’dpleadwithher.Fuck,I’dkidnapherifIhadto.Everythingwasdifferentnow.Everything.ThetourIhadbeendreadinglikeastintinaforeignprisonsuddenlylookedlikeafourteen-monthdreamvacation.“I’maskingSloantogowithme.”
Ernieeyedme.“Soyou’rereallydoingthisgirlfriendthing,huh?”
Igrinned.“Ohyeah,I’mdoingit.”
Heletoutalongbreathandnodded.“Okay.Kindathoughtyoumight.Well,Ilikeher.She’sagoodone,youwereright.”
Piaspokeoverhercellphonewithoutlookingup.“Agirlfriendontour?Noteasy.”Sheshookherheadoverhertext.“Haveyouseenyourmediapacket?”Shelookedupatmeoverherglasses.“They’rekeepingyoubusy,youngman.Yourattentionisgoingtobeextremelydivided.”
Erniewavedheroff.“There’snotalkingtohim.Isn’tthatright?”Heslappedmyback.
Igrinned.
Lolasawmelookingatherandsheshovedapapershe’dbeensigningintosomepoorfan’schestandsaunteredovertome.Herbodyguard,personalassistant,stylist,andlong-sufferingpublicistfollowedclosebehind.
“Jaxon,”shesaid,givingPiaandErnieacursoryglanceandthenslidinghercateyesbacktome.
“Lola.”Igaveherashit-eatinggrin.Icouldn’thelpit.
“Jason,weneedtostartheadingover,”Piasaid,checkingherwatchandnoddingtothephotobackdrop.
Lolafellinbesidemeaswemadeourwaydownthecarpettowardthephotographers,hookingherarminmine.Ididn’tknowhowtoshakeheroffwithoutitdrawingattentionandfuckit,Ididn’tevencare.ThiswasthelasttimeI’deverhavetodealwithher.Icouldn’tstopsmiling.
Iwonderedifsheknewyet—probablynotbyhowshewasacting.Icouldn’timagineshe’dbetakingthenewswithgrace.Itwasbettershedidn’tknow.She’dprobablyjustcauseafuckingsceneoverit.
Wecameuponacrowdofsupportingactorsfromthemoviewaitingfortheirturninfrontofthecameras.AmakeupartistIrecognizedfromaGQphotoshootearlierintheweekswoopedinandstarteddabbingatmyface,andItooktheopportunitytoliberatemyarm.Lolahoveredoverthewoman’sshouldertowatchme,lookingbored.
“Hey,Jaxon.Longtimenosee,”themakeupartistteased,talkingtomyforeheadasshepowdereditwithaquickswipeofabrush.“Sowhere’syourgirlfriend?Didn’tbringher?”
SomethingalmostpredatoryflashedonLola’sface.
“Couldn’tmakeit,”Imumbled,staringatLola,tryingtodeciphertheflickerI’dseeninhereyes.
“Aww,toobad,”shesaid,finishingup.“Alldone,handsome.Havefun.”
Shemoved,andLolaclosedthegapinfrontofme.“Agirlfriend,huh?”Shebitherlipandranahanddownmylapel.Hereyesrakeddownmybodyandthencamebackupandnarrowed.“Havefunwhileitlasts.”Sheyankedmetoherbymytie,crushedherlipstomine,andslidherotherhandovermydick.
Ijerkedbackandsmackedherhandoffme.“JesusChrist,Lola!”Ishotalookovermyshoulder.Westoodinthehuddleofourteams.Thankfullynobodyseemedtohavebeenpayingattention.Thephotographerswerefocusedonthebackdrop,andevenPiaandErniehadtheirheadsdownovertheirphones.
Ilookedbackatherandglared,wipingmymouthwithmysleeve.
Herfacehadgoneflat.“You’rewelcome.”
***
I’dmissedSloanlikecrazylastnight.Inthetheater,whenmyvoicesoaredoverasunriseasthemovieopenedintothefirstscene,allI’dwishedwasthatshe’dbeentherewithme.
Iwouldn’thavebeenabletohandleitifthingshadendedatthestartofmytour.Therewasnofuckingway.MyreliefoverthenewsIgotfromErniewasathousand-poundweightoffmychest.
PiaandErniehadstuckclosetomeallnight.I’dgrabbedaswagbagforSloanattheafter-partyandtakenpicturesofthebuffetbecauseshe’daskedforthem.IrubbedshoulderslikeIwassupposedto,stoodforselfies,shookhands,signedautographs,thankedpeople,andstayedjustaslongasnecessarytomeetmycontractualobligation.
Lolastayedawayfrommeaftertheredcarpet.Infact,Ididn’tseeherformostofthenight,muchtomyrelief.
I’dgottentoSloan’sataround2:00inthemorningandI’dclimbedintobedwithherandpassedout.I’dsleptlikethedead.ItwaslikeIhadn’ttrulyrelaxedsinceourbreakupconversation.Inreality,Iprobablyhadn’t.
WhenIwokeupandglancedatmyphoneitwasalmost9:00.Sloanwassittingagainstherheadboard,staringathercell.Ismiled,lookingather,andscootedupandputakissonherthigh.“Hey,Iwantedtoaskyousometh—”
“Jason,whatisthis?”
Sheturnedhercellphonetome.Mybreathcaughtinmythroat.
TMZ.Acelebritygossipsite.
Sloanstaredatme,confusionetchedintoherbrow.Isatupandtookherphone.
SomeonehadgottenapictureofLolakissingmeontheredcarpet,withherhandsquarelyonmydick.Itwaslikeacamerahadbeentrainedonme,takingburstshotsfromsomewherebehindthephotobackdrop.
Anotherphotohadusarminarmlikewe’dcometogetherandmegrinninglikeafuckingidiot.
Butthatwasn’teventheworstpart.Notbyamile.
AgrainyphotohadmeholdingLolabytheelbowinfrontofmytrailerlastweek.TheanglemadeitlooklikeI’dbeenleaningintokissher.Asmallblurbunderthephotoread,“LolaSimoneandJaxonWatersgettingintimateinfrontofhishomelastweekinCalabasas.”
Shemusthavehadpaparazzifollowingher.Fuck.
MyheartpoundedasIscannedthearticle.
JaxonWatersandLolaSimonewereextracloseatthepremiereofTheWildernessCallslastnightwiththetworecordingartistsseencanoodlingformuchoftheevent.ButtherealbuzzstartedafterLolawasseengrabbingtheMinnesotanative’scanoepaddlerightontheredcarpet.
Eversincetheircollaborationonthesoundtrackforthemovie,rumorshavebeenflyingaboutthepair,especiallyafterLolaSimonereleasedhersingle“OntheWater,”athinlyveiledtrackabouthersexualrelationshipwiththenortherner.WhileLolawillneitherconfirmnordenythatthegraphicsongisaboutJaxon,lastnight’shands-onapproachcertainlydoesgiveussomethingtotalkaboutduringtheirupcomingjointinternationaltour.
Mymouthwentdry.
“Whataloadoffuckingbullshit,”Ibreathed.
“Oh,Iagreeit’ssomebullshit.Especiallythepartaboutyoulyingtomeandsleepingwithanotherwomanbehindmyback.”
HertonerenderedmemuteforasolidtensecondsandIstaredather.“Sloan,youcan’tactuallybelievethis.It’sTMZ.”
Ireachedforherhandandsheyankeditfrommelikemyfingersburned.“Areyoukiddingme?There’sphotos.Youkissedher,Jason.I’mlookingatthiswithmyowneyes.”
“Wha—Iwasn’tkissingherinfrontofmytrailer,it’stheangleofthepicture.AndIdidn’tkissherlastnighteither.Shekissedme,andshediditjusttopissmeoff.”
“She’sgoingonyourtour?Andyoutookhertothepremiere?IsthatwhyIcouldn’tgo?Shewasatyourhouse?ThenightwewenttoKristen’s?AndthenthenextdayyoujusttookmetoMinnesotawithyoulikenothinghappened?”Herchestwasheaving.
“Igothomefromyourhouseandshewasthere,”Isaidcarefully.“Shewaswastedandshewouldn’tleave.Ididn’ttellyouwhathappenedbecauseIdidn’twanttoupsetyou.Sloan,Iwouldnevercheatonyou.”
Sheshookherheadatme.“Butyouhidherfromme.Youhidallofthisfromme.There’slikesevenliesinthisonearticle.”Herstaredrilledintomyface.“Haveyouactuallyhadsexwiththatwoman?”
Andhereitwas.Iclosedmyeyesandpuffedairfrommycheeks.“Once.Alongtimeago.”
Herdisappointedexpressionguttedme.“Pleasetellmeyou’rekidding.”Sheletoutashakybreath.“You’rekidding,right?Youdon’tthinkthisissomethingyoushouldhavetoldmeabout?MymothertextedmetotellmethatmyboyfriendissneakingaroundwithhisexandIdidn’tevenknowwhattosay!”
Fuuuuck.Fuck,fuck.“Sloan,I’msorry.Ididn’tknowaboutthearticleuntiljustnow,orIwouldhavegottenaheadofit.Lolawasjustaone-timethinganditwasamistake.Frankly,I’membarrassedaboutit.”
Shepressedherlipsintoaline.“Great.JustabootycallmistakewithErnie’sgatecode.Evenbetter.”Shethrewtheblanketsoffherandstormedtothebathroom.
“Ididn’tgiveherthegate—”Shedisappearedaroundthedoorway.Igotupandfollowedherintothebathroom.“Ididn’tgiveherthegatecode,”Isaid,comingaroundthecorner.“Idon’tevenknowhowsheknewwhereIlived.”
Shescoffedandyankedapieceoftoiletpaperofftherollwithherbacktomeandwipedathereyes.“Right.”
Ithrewupmyhands.“Sloan,whatdidyouwantmetodo?Ihavenocontroloverwhattheywriteandhowshebehaves.Thisiswhatshedoes.She’sfamousforthisshit.Shedoesitfortheattention.”
Shewhirledonme.“Thisisn’tevenabouther,Jason.Thishasabsolutelynothingtodowithherorthem.Thisisaboutyou.Howaboutyouhavealittlerespectforme?Tellmewhenanotherwomanhaskissedyouinfrontofdozensofcameras,soIcanatleastbereadyfortheTMZarticle.Tellmewhensomeoneshowsupatyourhouseinthemiddleofthenightforabootycall!Thisishumiliating,Jason!Youliedtome!”
“Ineverliedtoyou,”Isaidcalmly.“Ijustdidn’ttellyouaboutit.Ididn’twanttocometoyouwiththisuntilIhadasolutionforwhattodoaboutit.Ididn’twantittogiveyouanyunnecessarygrief.She’sgivenmeenoughforthebothofus.”
Shestoodbythesink,glaringatme.“Lyingbyomissionisstillalie.You’vehadsomewomanyouhavehistorywith,whoIdidn’tevenknowexistedforyou,showingupatyourhouseinthemiddleofthenight,writingsongsaboutyou,goingwithyoutomoviepremieres.They’reputtingheronyourtourandyouletmagazineswriteaboutitbeforeyoubotheredtogivemeaheads-upaboutthisdoublelifeyou’releading.Andyouseriouslyhavenothingtosayaboutkeepingthisfrommeotherthanyouweredoingmesomefavorbylyingtomeaboutit?”
Ilookedherintheeye.“She’sbeenkickedoffmytour,andIwastryingtospareyou.”
Hereyesflashed.“Okay.Howaboutthis?Howaboutthenexttimeanex-boyfriendshowsupheretohavesexwithmeandgrabsmyassI’llspareyouandit’lljustbemylittlesecret.”
Jealousypulsedthroughmelikeaninstantshotofadrenaline,andmytemperignited.“Ifanyoneeverputstheirhandsonyou,youbetterfuckingtellme.”
Shegawkedatme.“Oh,sonowyougetit,doyou?That’snotokay,butthisis?”
“It’snotthesamething,”Isaidthroughclenchedteeth.“She’safuckingmess.She’snotworthanyofthis.Youneedtogetoverit.”
Sheblinkedatme.“Getoverit?”Shelaugheddryly.“Wow.You’reright.Ishouldjust‘getoverit’soyoudon’thavetobeaccountableforanythingyoujustdid.Howinconvenientforyoutohaveagirlfriendwhodemandshonesty.Iguessyou’rehappywe’rebreakingupintwoweekssoyoucancontinueonwithyourdoublelifewithoutanyonenaggingyouaboutit!”
“Thatwasyouwhowantedthat!Idon’twanttobreakup,Ineverfuckingdid.Itkillsmethatyoudon’twanttobewithme!”
Westoodthereacrossfromeachother,bothofusbreathinghard.
Icombedahandthroughmyhair.“Look,Iunderstandthisisupsettingforyou.I’mnotthrilledaboutiteither.ThiswholethingwithLolahasbeenafuckingnightmare.She’sbeenharassingmeformonths.Shekissedme.Thistabloidshitisgoingtohappen.Itcomeswithmycareer,andIcan’tdoanythingaboutit.Noneofthiswentdownthewaytheysaiditdid,andevenifItoldyoueverysinglething,allthetime,Icannotpossiblyprepareyouforeverystorytheymightmakeup.Theyspinthings,it’swhattheydo.You’regoingtoneedatougherskinandyou’rejustgoingtohavetotrustme.”
Sheletoutamirthlesslaugh.“Youknow,Iwasactuallyconsideringwhatyousaidtheotherday.Thatweshouldwaitforeachother.”
Iblinkedather.“Youwere?”Ibreathed.
“OfcourseIwas.Youthinkit’sanyeasierformetoloseyou?YouthinkIwanttoseeotherpeople?Ithoughtmaybeyouwererightandwecouldjustagreetofocusforayearonourcareersandstayfaithfultoeachotherandwait.”Shescoffed.“ButIcan’tlivelikethis.Idon’tevenknowwhatyou’redoinghereandyouwantedmetostaybehindandwaitforyouwhileyoudoGodknowswhatoutthere?Youwanttrust?Youdon’teventalktome.”Herchinstartedtoquiver.“Jason,Ithinkyouneedtoleave.”
Myheartplummeted.“Sloan—”Itookasteptowardherandputoutahand.Shesmackeditawayfromher.
“IneedyoutoleavebeforeIsaysomethingtoyouthatI’mgoingtoregret.”Shehuggedherelbowstoherstomachandhereyesfilledwithtears.
Alarmbellswentoffinsideme,allsystemsresponding.Iswallowed.“Sloan,let’sjusttalk.Please.Nofighting,let’stalk.”
“Jason,Iwantyoutolistentome.Idonotwanttoseeyourightnow.Idonotwanttotalktoyou.Iwantyoutoleavethishouse.AndyoushouldknowthatifI’dunderstoodhowlittlerespectyouweregoingtohaveforthisrelationship,Iwouldneverhavedatedyou.”Chapter28
Sloan
?AMomentofSilence|TheNeighbourhood
Jason:Sloan,canwepleasetalk?
Istaredattheverticalblinkinglineintheemptytextbox.IsetmyphonefacedownonKristen’skitchenislandandputmyforeheadinmyhand.
“Wasthathim?”Kristenasked,leaningonthecounter.
Joshstoodbythesink,givingOliverabath.He’dsculptedthebaby’shairintoaMohawkandOliverwasgiggling.
IhadStuntmanMikeinmylapwearinghisEMOTIONALSUPPORTLUNATICshirt.Tuckerlaycurledatmyfeet.Jasonhadcalledhisdogtohimbeforeheleftmyhousetwodaysago,butTuckerhadn’tbudgedfromthebed,soJasonhadlefthim.
“Yes,thatwashim.”
“Whatdidhesay?”
“Whathe’sbeensaying.”
“Hewantstotalk?”
Inodded.Myeyesfilledupagainandsherippedoffapapertowelandhandedittome.“Sloan,whydon’tyoujusttalktohim?”
“Aboutwhat?Hedoesn’tgetthis,Kristen.Heseriouslythinksthere’snothingwrongwithanyofthis.Heliedtome.Heletmymom—mymom—betheonetotellmeaboutLola.Hejuststoodthereshrugginglike,‘Well,nothingIcouldhavedonetopreventthis.Sometimesfamousrecordingartistsshowuptofuckme,Ididn’twanttobotheryouwiththedetails.’”Ipressedthetoweltomyeyes.
“Well,heisarockstar…”
Ididalaugh-cry.
Joshrinsedthebaby’shairwithacup.“Nah,he’snotarockstar.Ididn’tgetthatvibefromhim.Thatguy’sprettygrounded.”
Kristenpeeredatme.“Doyouthinkhecheatedonyouwithher?”
Isniffled.“No.Ibelievehim.Butheshouldhaveatleasttoldmeabouther.”
JoshliftedOliverintoatowelandhandedhimtoKristenforadiaper.Thenhekissedthesideofhiswife’sheadonhiswaytothefridge.“Look,I’mgonnabehonest.Ilikehim,andIthinkyouneedtocuthimsomeslack.”Hegrabbedabeerandpulledupastoolatthecounter.“Didhehandlethesituationbadly?Yes.Butnoguywantstotellhisgirlfriendaboutthewomenhe’ssleptwith,believeme.”
Ishookmyheadathim.“Soheshouldjustgetapassforthis?Hewasabouttogoonayear-longtourwithhisoldhookupandIdidn’tevenknowaboutit.”
Joshopenedhisbeer.“Iknowwhatamanlookslikewhenhe’sinlovewithyou,Sloan.IsawthesamelookonBrandon’sfaceonce,andI’mtellingyou,thisguy’sseriousaboutyou.Givehimabreak.Hefuckedupandheknowsit.He’sprobablylosinghismindrightnow.”
He’slosinghismind?Jasonfeltlikeastrangertomewithsometorridpastandsecretdoublelife.LiketheJasonI’dknownwasadifferentpersonfromthemanwho’dliedtomeandhookedupwithLolaSimone.
MaybethebadguywasJaxon.
“Didyouevenlistentothatsong?”Iasked,lookingbackandforthbetweenthetwoofthem.“Didyou?”HowmanytimeshadIheardthatnastyLolaSimonesongandnotrealizeditwasaboutJason?ItwaslikeI’djustfoundoutmyboyfriendhadstarredinalyricalpornothateveryonehadseen.Thewholesituationwassocringy.
KristenshruggedwhileshefastenedOliver’sdiaper.“Ilistenedtoit.Sohegotdrunkandfuckedheronabeach.Thenshewroteasongaboutit.It’smessedup,butthatjustmakesherabitch.Itdoesn’tmakehimanythinglessthanaguywhowasexercisinghisGod-givenrighttomakebadchoicessixmonthsbeforeheknewyou.”
Iletoutabreath.“Whataboutthelying?”
Kristensuckedairthroughherteeth.“Hedidn’treallylie.Hejustdidn’ttellyou.Imean,thatdoesn’tmakeitokay,butIgottabehonest,Ikindofgetit.”
Istaredather,incredulous.
“What?Jason’saniceguy,”shesaid,pullingaonesieoverthebaby’shead.“He’sthekindofpersonwhodonateshisfuckingbonemarrowtoastranger.Hedidn’twanttomakeyouinsecure.Washereallygoingtotellyouthatagorgeousrockstarshowedupathishouseinthemiddleofthenighttofuckhimwhenthetwoofyouhadonlybeendatingforthreedays?Howwouldthathavegoneover?”
Shedidhaveapoint.
Sheputthebabyinhishighchair.“Andwhenshegrabbedhim,samething.Heprobablythoughtnobodysawitandhewassparingyouthevisualofafamoustrainwrecktouchinghisdick.Andhe’snotspecial,believeme.She’salwaysdoingshitlikethat.She’dgivethepopealapdance.”ShesatonJosh’skneeandputanarmaroundhisneck.
Imoppedatmynose.“Youknow,maybeIwouldn’tbesoupsetwithhimifhe’dtoldmeaboutthiswithoutlettingTMZpickitupfirst.”
“Youguysdon’thavetypicalproblems,I’llgiveyouthat,”Joshchuckled,pullingonhisbeer.“Justtellhimthatfromnowonheneedstobehonestwithyousoyoudon’tgetblindsidedwhenstufflikethishappens.”
Iclutchedmydampwadofpapertowels,miserable.“Idid.Hesaidhecan’tpreparemeforeverystorythetabloidsmightmakeup.Hesureashellcouldhavepreparedmeforthisone,though,”Imumbled.
Myphonerang.Ipickeditupandlookedatthescreen.
Itwashim.
MygazeshottoKristen.IhoveredafingerovertheAnswerCallbutton.Iwantedtohearhisvoice.Talktohim.ButIwantedtheoldJason.Theonefrombefore.Ithoughtabouthowhe’dbeensooblivioustohowhe’dletthishappen,howhe’dpurposelyhidallthisfrommeandhowdismissiveandunapologetiche’dbeen.
Isenthiscalltovoicemailandshutoffmyphone.Whatcouldhepossiblyhavetosaythatwouldchangemymind?Theonlythingthatcouldmakethisdifferentwascompleteandtotaltransparencyinourrelationship,andhe’dmadeitveryclearhehadnointentionofparticipatinginthat.
Kristenshookherheadatme.“Youonlyhavetendays,Sloan.That’sallyougetbeforehistour.Areyoureallywillingtoletthisbethethingthatbreaksyouguysup?Youcanenditnow,likethis,orcalmthefuckdownandgivehimachanceandatleastenjoythetimeyouhaveleft.”
Ishookmyhead.“It’sbiggerthanthat,Kristen.Thisisn’tjustaboutthenexttendays.It’saboutwhetherI’devenconsiderdatinghimagainwhenhistourisover.Hewantsmetowaitforhim.Andyouknowwhat?Iwasactuallyconsideringit.Ifigured,what’stheharm?It’snotlikeI’mgonnabedatinganyway.Wecanjustputourrelationshiponhold,dowhatwehavetodo,stayfaithfultoeachother,andgetbacktogetherwhenhistour’sover.AndallIcanthinknowis,howmuchcrapwillIlearnabouthimthiswaywhilehe’sgone?”
Iwipedatmynose.“EvenifIforgivethelying—theomissions,whichhedidn’tevenseemtobesorryabout—whataboutthenexttime?Andtherewillbeanexttime.Hewasright,thisshitisgoingtohappen.Idon’tknowifI’mstrongenoughtodothiswithhimagainandagainwhilehepurposelykeepsmeinthedark.Imean,ifhedidn’tfeellikeLolaSimoneandthesongsittingatnumbertwoonthedamnmusicchartswarrantedmentioning,whatelseisn’thetellingme?AmIjustgoingtofindoutabouthisskeletonswitheveryoneelsewhentheyhitthecelebritygossipcircuit?”Ishookmyhead.“I’mnotcutoutforthislifeandIdon’tthinkIreallyrealizedituntiltoday.”
KristenandJoshlookedatmeliketheyfeltsorryformeanddidn’tknowwhatelsetosay.
“I’vebeenabletocompartmentalizethiswholefamethingbecauseIdidn’teverseetheJaxonsideofhim.Andnowallofasuddenit’sthisenormous,glaringspotlightoneverything,”Isaid,wavingmypapertowelaround.
Mychinstartedtoquiver.“He’lldonothingtoprotectmefromthetabloidonslaught.He’llkeepdoingthingsbehindmyback.I’llgetnowarning,justlikethistime.Thenwhentheinevitablehappensandsomestorybreaks,he’lltellmeIneedatougherskin.He’llbrushitoff,justifyhidingwhateveritisfromme,takenoresponsibility.”
I’dbealunatic.Iwouldbetwitchyandworried,waitingfortheothershoetodropthewholetimehewasaway.
StuntmanMikepeeredupatmefrommylap.
MyeyesfilledwithtearsagainandIlookedbackandforthbetweenKristenandJosh.“Ihavetobreakupwithhim,”Ibreathed.“Ihavetodoitnow.”
Thefinalityofitcrushedme.TearscameagainandIsobbedintomypapertowel.
He’dgivenmenochoice.Chapter29
Jason
?MessIsMine|VanceJoy
Shesentmycalltovoicemailagain.
Iputmypalmsovermyeyesandletoutaraggedbreath.Itwasalmostmidnight.I’dbeencallingandtextingherallday.
“Shestillnottalkingtoyou?”Erniestoodinhiskitchenanddroppediceintoatumblerbehindthedarknessofmyeyelids.
“Ifuckedup,”Imuttered.
“Yeah,youfuckedup.Yourfirstmistakewasarguingwithapissed-offwoman.Youshouldhavebackedawayslowlyandagreedwitheverythingshesaid.Pissed-OffWoman101.”
Ilookedupathimashesetdownthebourbonhe’dpouredmeonthecoffeetable.
Heploppedintothecouchnexttomeandcrossedhislegoverhisankle,holdinghisownglass.
Ifelthaggard.Thelasttwodayshadbeenhell.IwasatthepointthatI’dapologizeforbeingbornifitmeantshe’dspeaktome.Ijustwantedthistobeover.She’dbroughtmetomydamnkneesonsilencealone.
“Ithinkshe’sgoingtobreakupwithme.”Evensayingthewordsoutloudmadethelumpboltintomythroat.
Ernieletoutalongbreath.“Youguyswerebreakingupanyway.”
Ishookmyhead.“No.Notlikethis.Notbecauseshedidn’twantme,notbecauseIfuckingdisappointedher.AndIwouldhaveneverletithappen.Iwouldhavebeggedhertocomewithme.”Iputmyforeheadintomyhands.“Itcan’tendlikethis.”
Fuck,Ishouldhavetoldhereverything.Whydidn’tItellhereverything?Ihadnoideahowtonavigateanyofthis.Lola,mytour,myfame.Allofitfeltlikesomegiantsnowball,gatheringmomentumanddestroyingmylifeonitswaydown.
“Youknow,maybeshe’sdoingyoubothafavor,”Erniesaid.
Itookmyforeheadfrommyhandsandglaredathim.
Heswayedhiswhiskeyatme.“Howfairwasanyofthisgonnabeforheranyway?Thinkaboutit.Shestaysbehindandshe’saloneforfourteenmonthswhileyoutraveltheworld.Orshegoesontheroadwithyouandshedoesn’tseeherfriendsorfamilythewholetime,doesn’tsleepinthesamebedformorethanthreenightsinarow.Shecan’twork,can’tevenfuckingunpack.Eitherway,she’sdoingnothingbutlivingforyouandyou’relivingforyourcareer.Youreallywantthatforher?”Hetookaswallowofhisdrink,theiceclinkingintheglass.“You’regettingfamous,andwhatisshegetting?It’salittleselfish.”
Ilookedawayfromhim.
Iwassupposedtomarrythiswoman.I’dknownitthemomentIthoughtImightloseher.Shewasitforme.Thethoughtofbeingwithoutherwasasunacceptabletomeasneverseeingdaylightagain,neverpickingupanotherguitar.
IfI’dfuckedthisupforgood,Iwouldsufferforitfortherestofmylife.I’dnevergetoverit.Ineededtofixthisandthenputaringonherhandandleteverymanwholookedatherknowtherewasalreadysomebodyhopelesslyinlovewithher.
Andtheydidlookather.Iwasgoingtoneedaverybigring.
Idraggedmyhandsintomyhairandsqueezed.“FuckingLola.Ihateher.”
“Igottatellyou,noneofthisLolashitsitsrightwithme.MySpideysensesaretingling.”Hetappedafingeronhistumbler.“Andyou’resureyoudidn’tgiveherthegatecode?”
“Ididn’tgiveittoher,”Imumbled.
Hesquintedoutatthefireplacelikehewasthinking.
Fuckthis.Igotup.“I’mgoingovertoSloan’s.Ican’tsithereanddonothing.”
I’dgivenherspace.Ithadbeentwofuckingdays.Ifshewasgoingtobreakupwithme,I’drathersheswingtheaxnowinsteadofleavingmekneelingwithmyheadontheblock.Notknowingwaskillingme.Icouldn’tdothisanymore.
ThedrivetoherhousefeltlikeIwasdeliveringmyselftomyownexecution.Isatinherdrivewayrallyingmycouragetoevengetoutandtrymyluckatgettinginthedoor.
Itwasmidnight.Thehousewasdark.
Ihadmykey,butSloanalwaysputthechainon.I’dprobablyhavetoringthedoorbellandwakeherup.Andwouldsheevenletmein?Oransweritaftershelookedthroughthepeephole?
Ihadtobebracedfortheveryrealpossibilityshewouldbreakupwithmetonight.ThatI’dhadallIwasgoingtoget.Iimaginedheraskingmetoleave,takingmykey.Makingmeemptymydrawerandthenneverseeingheragain.
Myheartwouldbreak.Itwouldfuckingshatter.
ThefloodlightscameonwhenIgottotheporch.Iputmykeyinthelockandturneditunderthejudgmentalglare.Ipushedthedooropenaninch,thenanother,andthemomentwhenthechainwouldhavegonetautcameandwentandTuckerspilledoutandjumpedonmylegs.
Shedidn’tputthechainon.
ItwasthefirstrayofhopeI’dhadindays.Istoodwithmyforeheadtotheopendoorandmyhandontheknobforasolidminute.
Shedidn’tlockmeout.
Iprayedthismeantsomething.Thatitwasn’tjustsomeoversight.AndIhopedthatthiswouldn’tbethelasttimeIeverspoketothewomanIloved.Chapter30
Sloan
?Holocene|BonIver
Thedipofthebedjostledmefrommysleep.SomewhereinmymiseryI’ddriftedoff.Familiarhandswrappedthemselvesaroundmywaistfrombehindandpulledmein.
Jason…
Thescratchofhisbeardbrushedthesideofmyneckandtheninahuskyvoice,“I’msorry.”
Noneofitmatteredsuddenly.Noneofit.Thechangeinmybrainwassofastitgavemewhiplash.Allmyplansdisintegrated.Mymindflippedinasingleheartbeat.Irolledoverinthecircleofhisarmsandkissedhim.Eveniftherehadn’tbeenanapology,I’dhavekissedhim.Hewasforgiven,andIimmediatelybecamewholeagain.
Heheldmycheeksinhiswarmhands.“Sloan,I’msosorry.Ishouldhavetoldyoueverything.Idon’tknowwhyIdidn’t.”
“I’msorrytoo,”Iwhispered.“Imissedyousomuch.Idon’tknowwhatIwasthinking.Ishouldhavetrustedyou,Ijustgotsoinmyhead…”
“Itwasmyfault,”hesaid.“Iwasjustafraidyou’dthinklessofmeorwouldn’tbeabletohandleit,andIthoughtIwasprotectingyou.Itwasstupid.”
Heputhisforeheadtomine.“Youdidn’tputthechainon,”hewhispered.
Ishookmyhead.No,Ihadn’tputthechainon.Icouldn’tspeaktohim,butIcouldn’tlockhimout,eventhoughIdidn’tthinkhewouldcomehome.NotafterthewayImadehimleave.
ButJasonneverdidhaveself-preservationinstinctswhenitcametome,didhe?
Hebrushedthehairoffmyforeheadinthedimness.“Don’tevertakeyourselffrommeagain.Promiseme.Please.”
Hisbeautifuldeepvoicesoundedlikesuffering.Theroomwasdim.Theonlylightcamefromtheglowofmyalarmclockonmynightstand.ButIcouldseethedarkcirclesunderhislidsandthehollowlookinhiseyesandmyheartbrokeathousandtimesinasinglebeatandIknewinstantlythatIwouldneverhavebeenabletobreakupwithhimwhenheleftforhistour.Never.HisplanewouldhavestillbeensittingonthetarmacandI’dhavebeencallinghim,begginghimtotakemeback.Fourteenmonthsofbeingseparatedwasnothingcomparedtonothingatall.
“Jason,Idon’twanttobreakupwhenyougoontour.Ican’t.”
“Iloveyou.”
ThewordssuckedtheairrightoutofmylungsandIblinkedintothedarkness.
“Iloveyou,Sloan.”
“Iloveyoutoo,”Ibreathed.
Heletoutanoisethatsoundedlikeamixtureofjoyandrelief,andIwrappedmyarmsaroundhimandburiedmyfaceinhisbeard.
HeheldmesotightlyIcouldn’tbreathe.“Sloan,comewithmeonmytour.Please.”
Ilaughedintohisneckfromhappiness.“Yes.”
“Yes?”
Inodded.Itwascrazy.ItwassonotthekindofspontaneousthingIdid.Butitwasn’tevenaquestion.Ihadto.
Iwantedsomuchtobemeagain.I’dpromisedmyselfIwouldchasejoy,climboutofmyin-between,livealifeofhappinessthatwasworthliving—andtheonlylifeIwantedtolivewaswithhim
“I’llpayyourmortgage,”hesaidintomyhair,agrininhisvoice.“I’llgiveyouasmuchasyouneed.”
IpulledawaysoIcouldlookathim.“No,Ican’tletyoudothat.MaybeIcanrentit?”
“Itneedstoomanyrepairstorent,”hesaid,hishandsonmyface.“Whydon’tyousellit?”
Sellit?
“Whenwegetbackwecanbuyanewplace,”hesaid.“Somethingbetter.ClosetoKristenandJosh.”
Ismiledathim.“Youwanttolivewithme?”
Hiseyesmovedbackandforthbetweenmine.“Iwanteverythingwithyou.”
Screwit.IfIwasgoingtodothisthing,Iwasgoingtodoit.AndIwantedtostartover.Iwantedtostartoverwithhim
Inodded.“Okay.Let’sdoeverything.Let’sdoitall.”
Hepausedandbeamedatme.Andthenhesmotheredmewithkisses.Mymouth,mycheeks,myneck,tellingmeoverandoverandoveragainthathelovedme,andIlaughedandclutchedhim.
Everytimehesaidit,thewordsfilledmeup.Theywrappedthemselvesaroundmelikewarm,strongarmsandmademefeelsafeandcherished,pushingouteverydoubtthathispastandhisfamehadmademefeel.
Helovedme.
AndIlovedhimback.
Thiswaswhywecouldweatherhisfame.WhyIcouldtrusthim,always,nomatterwhatcameup.Hebelongedtomeandwewereinittogether.HowcouldIeverquestionit?
Wewereinlove.Chapter31
Jason
?Diamonds|BenHoward
Iboughtaring.Avery,verybigring.Chapter32
Sloan
?BigJetPlane|Angus&JuliaStone
Areyousureyoudon’twanttocomewithme?SaturdayNightLiveiskindofaonce-in-a-lifetimedeal,”Jasonsaid.Hetalkedagainstmylipsashekissedmegoodbyeonmyporch.Hisguitarcasesatnexttousandhishandstwinedinthehairatthenapeofmyneck.Hiseyespracticallysmoldered.
Hedidthisonpurpose,ofcourse,becauseheknewhowdefenselessIwaswhenhesuckedmeintothatvortexofhis.
Ihadtobestrong.Ihadtoomuchtodo.
“Ifyouwantmetobereadytoleavemywholelifebehindinlessthanaweek,Ican’tgiveyouthreemoredays,”Isaid,nuzzlinghisnosewithmyeyesclosed.
ItwasactuallyagoodthinghewasleavingforNewYork.Themanwashighlydistracting.Icouldn’tgetanythingdonewhenhewashome—well,nothingthatrequiredclothes,anyway.
“I’mgoingtomissyou,”hebreathed.
“I’mgoingtomissyoutoo.”Ikissedhim,wrappingmyarmsaroundhisneck.“ButmostlyI’mgoingtomissbeingtheotherwomanforafewdays.”
Hesnorted.
“I’mgoingtoframeit,”Isaid.“MaybeKristenwillputitintheChristmascalendar.”
YesterdayapictureofmeandJasonholdinghandsatTraderJoe’sendeduponthecoveroftheNationalEnquirerJAXONWATERSCHEATSONLOLASIMONE!wasplasteredalloverthefront.I’dbeenwearingsunglassesandabaseballcapandmytattooswerecovered,soonlyIrecognizedmyself.Butitwasstillreallyfunny.
“Theycalledmeamysterywoman,”Isaid,smilingagainsthislips.“I’vealwayswantedtobemysterious.”
Hechuckled.“I’vealwayswantedtwowomen.Thisisworkingoutforbothofus.”
Ihithim,andhelaughed,ticklingmebynibblingmyneck.
Ithadbeenthreedayssincewemadeup,andthingsbetweenuswereonawholenewlevel.Therewasnomoreenddate.Weweren’tbreakingup,weweregoingonhistourandthenmovingintogether.Thefutureofourrelationshipwasclearlylaid.
Andwewereridiculouslyinlovewitheachother.
He’dtoldmeeverything.AboutLola,thesong.Whyhedidn’taskmeontourearlier.Everything.AndI’dlistenedandunderstoodandwhenitwasover,Ifeltlikewewerealliesagainsttheworld.
Zaneidledinmydriveway,waitingforhim.Icouldtellhedidn’twanttoleavemeanditmademyhearthappy,butIhadtobepractical.“Go,you’regoingtobelateforyourflight.Textmefromthecar.”
“Lookatme.”
Igazedupanddrownedinhisblueeyes.
Heputhisthumbovermylips,pressingthemshut.“Iloveyou,”hesaid.Thenhemovedhisthumb,kissedmeswiftly,andjoggeddownthestepswithhisguitarbeforeIcouldreply.
Myheartcouldbarelytakeit.Idon’tthinkIcouldevergetusedtohimsayingthat.Ileanedonthedoorframe,Tuckeratmyfeet,andwatchedJasongetintothecar,smiling.IblewhimakissastheypulledoutofthedrivewayandmycellphonepingedwithatextmessagefromhimbeforeZane’sTeslaclearedtheendoftheblock.
Jason:Imissyoualready.
Ping.
Jason:Sextme.
Ilaughed.
God,weweresoadorable,evenIcouldbarelystandus.
Igottowork.InthenextsevendaysIhadtocontactthecompanyIpaintedforandtellthemIwasquitting,andIhadtoputmyEtsystoreonvacation.Threepaintingsneededtobecompleted.Ihadtorentastoragecontainer,putmyhouseonthemarket,andstartpacking.Thingsneededtobepulledtogetherforaquickyardsale.
AndIstillhadthehardestthingofalltocheckoffmylist:tellingKristenIwasleaving.
We’dneverbeenapartformorethanafewdaysbefore.Never,goingasfarbackasthesixthgrade.Therewasnotellinghowshewouldreact.Ihalfexpectedhertotellmenottogo.She’dbeenahugeJasonfansofar,butagreeingtogoontourwithhimafteronlytwoweeksashisgirlfriendsoundedcrazy,eventome.AndthentoexplainI’dbesellingmyhouseandmovinginwithhimtoo?Onpaperitwasnuts,nomatterhowrightitfelttome
I’dmadeplanstomeetherandthebabyatthepark,andIdroveoverwithTuckeratnoon.KristenhadOliverinhisjoggingstrollerandwasalreadymakingacircuitaroundtherunningtrackwhenIgotthere.IwalkedthewrongwayuntilImetupwithher.WhenIfellinbesideher,shedidn’twasteanytimecallingmeonmyagenda.
“Sowhatdoyouneedtotellme?”Shelookeddeterminedlyahead,speedwalking.
God,howdoesshedothateverytime?KnowingexactlywhatI’muptowithinfivesecondsofseeingmyface?
Ididn’tbotherdrawingitout.“Jason’saskedmetogoontourwithhim.”
Kristendidn’ttakehereyesofftherunningtrack.“Andyousaidyes?”
“AndIsaidyes.Butthere’ssomethingelse.I’msellingthehouse.Andwhenwegetback,we’removingintogether.”
KristenstoppedwalkingsofastIoutpacedherbythreestepsbeforeInoticed.
Shepantedandstaredatmeforamoment.“Let’sgosit,”shesaidcarefully,givingmealookIcouldn’tdecipher.
Ugh.Thiswasn’tgood.Isowantedhertosupportmeinthis.Iwasgoingtodoitwhethershewantedmetoornot.ButIreallyhadhopedshewasgoingtobackmebecausethenewshadn’tgoneoverwellwithmyparents.Atall
Mydadthoughtmyrunningawayontourwithmy“rockstar”boyfriendoftwoweekswassomekindofcrisisIwasworkingthrough.He’dgivenmealongspeechabouttheperilsofdatingmusiciansandendeditbytellingmehedisagreedwholeheartedlywithmydecision.He’deventhrownaroundtheword“disappointed.”
He’dlovedBrandon.Theywerebothex-militaryandthey’dplayedinthesamepokerleague.Daddidn’tevenwanttomeetJason.Hesaidhe’dputmoneyonitbeingoverbyLaborDayandifitwasn’t,maybehe’dmeethimatThanksgiving.
Maybe.
Momtendedtobemoreofaromantic,butafterJason’sminortabloidscandal,shethoughtIwascrazytoevenconsiderstayingwithhim,letalonegoingonhistourandsellingmyhousetomoveinwithhim.She’dagreedtomeethim,butwassounenthusiasticIoptedout.
Jason’sfamilyhadembracedmesomuchIthinkitkilledhimtoknowhowminefelt.
NothavinganyonebeashappyaboutthisasIwassucked.
Wefoundabenchintheshade,walkinginaheavysilenceuntilwegotthere.KristenparkedthestrollerandhandedOliverhissippycupbeforesittingtofaceme.
Idovein.“Beforeyouevenstart,Iknowit’sonlybeenafewweeks,andIknow—”
“I’mgladyou’regoing.”
Ittookmeafewmomentstoprocesswhatshe’dsaid.
“You…youare?”
“Yes.AndI’mgladyou’resellingthehouse.Youshouldhavedonethatalongtimeago.”
Iblinkedather.“You’renotupsetthatI’llbegonesolong?Youdon’tthinkI’mcrazy?”
“Sloan,therearesomethingsIneedtosaytoyou.”
Shepushedherhairbehindherearandlickedherlips.Ittookherawhiletobegin.Sheseemedatalossforwords.Kristenwasneveratalossforwords.
“Iknowthatyou’llbeawayforalongtime.ButI’vegonelongerwithoutseeingyou.”Shepausedforalongbeat.“Theselasttwoyears,theSloanIgrewupwithhasbeenmissing.IwasafraidshewasburiedatForestLawnwithBrandonandIwasnevergoingtoseeheragain.Thenyoudecidedtolive,andyouknowwhat?MySloancameback.”Sheshookherhead.“Imissedmyfriend.AndifIthoughtthatyouwereonlyokaybecauseyouhaveamaninyourlifeagain,I’dtellyounottogo.ButIthinkyouhaveamaninyourlifebecauseyou’reokay.Idon’tthinkthisissomereboundthing.Ithinkwhatyoutwohaveisreal.Andgoddamnit,ifhewantsyoutogoonhistour,go.BecauseIhaven’tseenyouthisfuckinghappyinaverylongtime.”
ThetearswerefallingbeforeIevenknewtheywerecoming.“Thankyou,”Iwhispered.
“I’mgladhefinallyfiguredouthowbaditwouldsuckifhewentwithoutyou.Honestly,JoshandIwereworriedaboutwhatmighthappenwhenheleft,andwewerewonderingwhatwastakinghisasssolongtoask.”
“Seriously?Youguystalkedaboutit?”
“We’reyouremergencyresponseteam.Ofcoursewetalkedaboutit.Diddrillsandeverything.”
Ilaughedoutofreliefandhuggedher.Thismadeitreal.Itgaveitvalidationtohavehersupportthis—bothofthem,herandJosh.Theysawittoo,whatIhadwithJason.
“Sloan,itmakesmesohappytoseeyoumakethesechoices.Go,haveadventures,fallmoreinlove,shakeatambourine,beafuckinggroupieandsayclichéshitlike,‘I’mwiththeband.’”
Isnorted,wipingatmytears.
“I’llbeherewhenyougetback.Andsowillyou.Finally.”
***
KristenandIwalkedforforty-fiveminutes,talkingaboutthetourandOliver.ThenIhadtogetbacktothehouseandgetstartedonmyto-dolist.Ihuggedhergoodbyeandmademywayupthestairstotheparkinglot.
IwastextingJason.He’djustsung“Name”intomyvoicemailonthewaytotheairport.Thesongwehadourfirstkissto.Imelted.
Iwastypingwithmyheaddown,tellinghimIlovedhim,soIdidn’tnoticemycaruntilmyfeetwerealreadycrunchingoverglass.Ilookedupandfrozewithahandtomymouth.
Mywindowswerebroken.Allofmywindowswerebroken.
Mywindshieldwascavedintothefrontseatlikesomeonehadstooddirectlyonthehoodtosmashitin.
Allfourtireshadbeenslashed.Mysidemirrorshadbeenbrokenoffandlayscatteredintheparkinglotlikecandyfromabustedpi?ata.
AndthewordsJaxon’sWhorewerespraypaintedoverthedoorthatdidn’tmatchtherestofthecar.Chapter33
Jason
?DoIWannaKnow?|ArcticMonkeys
Thecamerasintheparkinglotwerebroken—butIfuckingknewwhodidit.
Lolawaspissedaboutbeingbootedoffmytour,aboutseeingmeinthetabloidswithanotherwoman,andshe’dgoneafterSloan.Ihadnodoubtinmyminditwasher.
Iwasfuckingfurious.I’dcalledErnieimmediatelyafterSloantoldmeabouthercarandhe’dgonedownandgottenher.I’dalmostflownbackfromNewYork,butbothoftheminsistedIstayanddoSNL.Erniepromisedhe’dkeephersafeanddealwiththepolice—andhedid.
Butthecarwasn’ttheendofit.Notevenclose.
Sloan’ssocialmediaaccountsweresuddenlybombardedwithtrolls.FakeaccountssetupwithnootherpurposethantocommentonherphotosandslideintoherDMsandharassher.ItwassobadshehadtodeleteherInstagrampageandevenKristenandJoshhadtolockdowntheiraccounts.
Thenthephonecallsstarted.
VulgartextsandvoicemailsfromstrangerstoSloan’scell,allhoursofthenight.Itranthegamutfromcallinghernamestomakingthreatsofviolence.Anditwasallmadeveryobviousthatthiswasaboutme.Jaxon’swhore,Jaxon’sbitch.Noneofitwastraceable.Allthenumberstheycalledfromwerespoofed.
IhadnoideahowLolahadgottenSloan’snumber.ButthenIhadnoideahowLolahadgottenthegatecodeeither.
Itwaslikeshe’dhiredafuckingarmytocomeaftermygirlfriend.
I’dneverfeltsomuchhatredforsomeoneinmylife
Ernieurgedmenottoconfronther,thatanyengagementwouldjustencourageher.Hewasright.Therewasnofuckingpoint.It’snotlikeshelistenedtoreason.AllIcoulddowascontrolthedamageandtrytokeepSloansafe.
Iwasn’ttakinganychances.WechangedSloan’snumberandIwouldn’tletheroffErnie’spropertyaloneoranywherenearherhouse.I’dhiredamovingcompanytofinishthepacking,andI’dhadZaneoverseeit.Wecanceledtheyardsale.Ididn’tneedSloanoutsidedealingwithstrangerswhentherewassomeoneouttherewho’dtakenabaseballbattohercar.
Thewholethingwasastressneitherofusneededbecauseourliveswerehardenoughasitwasatthemoment.
I’dbeenbackfromSNLforthreedays.Mytourstartedintwo.Everythingwaschaos.I’dhadtodiverightintorehearsalsthedayafterIgotbackfromNewYork,withthebackupbandI’dhiredforthetour.I’dbeenworkingsixteen-hourdays,jugglingthatandthemedia.Iwasbeingpulledinathousanddifferentdirectionsandsowasshe.
AndnowErniehadmeupandwaitingforhiminfrontofthepoolhouseat6:30inthedamnmorning.SloanwasasleepwithTuckerinthetrailer.IshouldhavebeenasleepwithTuckerinthetrailer.ButErnie’stexthadsaiditwasimportantandthatitcouldn’twait.
Hecameoutthebackdoorofthehouseandmadehiswaypastthepool.Hewasinhissuit,eventhisearly.“Hey,myfriend.Sorrytorouseyou.Iknowyouneedyourbeautysleep.”Heputhishandsonhiships.“It’simportant,orIwouldn’thavecalled.”
“What’sup?”Iasked,yawning.
“Someonepaidoffmyfuckinghousekeeper.”
Irubbedthebackofmyneck.“Huh?”
“SomeonegaveherathousandbuckstogiveupthegatecodesoLolacouldgetinherethatnight.Tenyearsshe’dbeenwithme,andIhavetofindanewhousekeeper.I’mdoingmyowngoddamnlaundry.AndIhaven’teventoldyouthecrazyshityet.”Helookedmeintheeye.“Thepersonwhopaidherwasn’tLolaoranyofherpeople.”Hepaused.“Itwasyourpeople.”
Myhanddropped,andIstaredathim.
“Ihadtodoashittonofdigging.HadtogiveLupeanotherthousandbuckstogethertotalkandIhadtoasktheSwansonsacrossthestreetfortheirsurveillancevideo,butIgottheplatefortheguywhobribedher.He’ssomelow-levellackeyforyourlabel.”
“What?”Ibreathed.
“Yeah.”Hescratchedhischeek.“Here’swhatIthink.IthinkyourlabelsetyouupforthosephotoswithLola.Ithinktheydiditsotheycouldleakthatshit.IthinkthewholeTMZthingwasplannedandtheywantedtherumorscirculatingsowhentheystuckLolaonyourtour,thetwoofyouwouldbealloverthetabloidstogether,niceandfuckingneat.”
Istoodtherespeechlessforalongmoment.“Why?”
“They’remanufacturingyourhype.Theywanteverybodytalkingaboutyou.TheLola-Jaxonsinglesonthesoundtrackareonfire.Everybody’sfuckinggrabbingforyou.Piacan’tevenkeepupwithallthepresstheywantyoutodo.That’swhytheypushedyourtourouttenmoremonths.They’reposturingtomass-produceyou.Thewriting’sonthewall,myfriend.You’vegotallthemakingsofasuperstar.”
Erniewasn’tonetomakedeclarationslikethat.Hewasmoreofamanage-your-expectationskindofguy,soIdidn’ttakeanyofwhathesaidlightly.Ishouldhavebeenhappythathehadthismuchfaithinthefutureofmycareer,butinsteadthemostpeculiarsenseofforebodingovercameme.ThatlittlestuntwithLolahadalmostcostmemygirlfriendandthey’dgivenmyharasseraccesstowhereIlived?Whatthefuck?
Hewenton.“AtthispointIwouldn’tevenputitabovethemtodropLolaonyourtournomatterhowwellyourticketsareselling.Itworksforyouboth.Shegivesyourimageanedgeandkeepsyouinthegossipmagsandyougiveheratourshecanbeonthat’llkeeprollingevenifshedropsdeadwithaneedleinherarm.”
Myfacewenthard.“No.I’llwalkbeforethathappens.Idon’tgiveashit,letthemdowhattheyneedtodo.”
Heputhishandsonmyshoulders.“Look,Idon’twantyouworryingaboutLola.She’snotcominganywherenearyouforthetimebeing.Youjustkeepupyourendofthebargainandbookupthoseshows.Andasforrightnow,justbebraced.Ihopebothyoukidsgotplentyinthereservetankbecausethistour’snotgonnabeeasy.”Heslappedmyshoulder.“Congratulations,Jaxon.You’veofficiallymadeit.”Chapter34
Sloan
?YesI’mChanging|TameImpala
IwokeupalonewithTuckerinJason’sbed.Myboyfriend’ssideofthemattresswascold.
Myhousewasemptyandonthemarket.I’dquitmyjobandliquidatedmylife.AndIwasexhausted.Webothwere.Whichwaswhyitwasweirdhewasn’tsleepingwhenhehadthechance.
WewerelivinginJason’straileruntilweleftontourintwodays.Inthelastweekmyentirelifehadbeenreducedtoasinglelargesuitcaseandacarry-on.Mycarwasgone.Theinsurancecompanydeclaredittotaledbecauseapparentlyfourtires,somewindows,andacoatofpaintwouldcostmorethanthewholevehicle.GotfifteenhundredforitandIfeltlikeabandit.
Iwanderedouttothebathroomwrappedinablanket.Jasonwasn’tinthetrailer.IpeekedouttheblindsandsawhimbythepoolhousetalkingtoErnie.
IsliddownontothesofawithTuckertowaitforhimtocomebackinandturnedontheTV.Iwassittingthere,flippingthroughchannels,whenanemailcamethroughtomyphonewithaping.
EverytimemyphonechimedIjumpedalittle,eventhoughI’dchangedmynumberanddeletedmysocialmediaaccounts.TheLolaonslaughthadbeenhorrible.Iwassogladitseemedtobeover.
Iclickedonthelittleenvelopeicon.Myheartleapt.
IthadbeenovertwoyearssinceIgotamessagetothisaccount.ItwastheoneIusedbackwhenIpaintedhyperrealisticart,theoneonthebusinesscardstheartgallerieshandedout—orusedto,backwhenIdidthatsortofthing.
Itwassorandom,forasplitsecondIworrieditwasmoretrolling,butIrecognizedthename.ItwasagallerycuratorinLagunaBeach.Awell-knownone.
Iporedovertheemail.
Shehadaclientwho’dseenGirlinPoppiesandwantedapaintingofhisdaughter.HewanteditbyChristmasandhewaswillingtopay$4,000forit.
Acommission.
Iletoutapuffofair.
ThiswasthekindoforderIusedtoprayfor.Mypaintingsusuallysold,buttheyhungingalleriesformonthsbeforetheydid.Notonlytohavesomeonelovemyworkenoughtocommissionit,buttohavethepaintingsoldbeforeitevenexisted?God,itwasmydream!
Andthentherealitypummeledme.
Iwasleavingontour.AndtherewasnowayIcouldpaintwhereIwasgoing.
Thedisappointmenthitmerightintheheart.
Iwasreadytogetseriousaboutmyartagain.ButI’dbeenboggeddownwithEtsyandastronautcatssoIhadn’tbeenabletoactuallyattemptit.AndnowthatI’dshuckedallthoseresponsibilitiesandhadthisincredibleopportunitydanglinginfrontofme,Icouldn’ttakeit.
IputmyphoneawayandwentbacktowatchingTV,depressed.IguessIshouldbehappythatI’dgottentothepointwhereIwantedtopursuethingsthatIusedtobepassionateabout.EvenifIcouldn’tdothem.
Jasonclompedintothetrailertwentyminuteslaterandlookedsurprisedtoseemeup.Heputhishandonthebackofthesofatoleandownandkissme.“Goodmorning.Coffee?”Hesmiled,buthelookedweary.
“Yeah.Hey,didyouseethis?”Isaid,noddingattheTV.IwaswatchingE!News.
“Whatisit?”Hewenttothekitchenandopenedthecabinetandpulledoutthebagofgrounds.
“Lola’ssuinghermanager.Iguessheembezzledallthismoneyfromher.”
Hespoonedcoffeeintothepress.“Shewasprobablytoowastedtonotice,”hemumbled.Heputwaterinthemicrowave.“SpeakingofLola,Erniethinksthephotosofmeandherwerestagedbymylabel.”
Iscrunchedmyforehead.“Really?Why?”
“Publicity.”Heleanedonthecounterwithhisarmscrossedwhilehewaitedforthemicrowave.“Hethinkstheymightputheronmytourevenifmyshowsaresoldout.”
Ishrugged.“Okay.Well,shedoesn’tscareme.Justsoyouknow.”
HesmiledandwalkedovertoturnofftheTV.“Hey,Igotyouagift.”
Igrinnedathim.“Youdid?”
Heopenedacabinetinthekitchenandpulledoutalargebluepolka-dotgiftbagandputitinmylapashesatdown.“Ithoughtyoumightlikethis,”hesaid.
Ireachedinandpulledoutasmalltablelamp.Ithadagearforthebase,atwistedmetalneck,andanoldscuffed-upcurvedlicenseplatefortheshade.
“It’sfromyourcar,”hesaid.“IhadZanegetthepartsfromthejunkyardandsendittoaguywhomakeslampsoutofrefurbishedautoparts.Ihadtoplacearushordertogetitbeforeweleft,butIreallywantedyoutohaveit.Iknowyoulikedthatcar.”
Ibeamed.“Jason,thisissothoughtful!”
Ilovedit.
Ileanedoverandhuggedhisneck.“Thankyou.”
Hepressedhischeektothesideofmyhead.“Wecankeepithereuntilwecomebackfromtourandgetahouse.”
Inodded,wipingundermyeyeswithmythumb.ThiswasJason.Sothoughtful.
“Youreadyforbreakfast?”Isniffed.“Pancakesorbaconandeggs?Both?”
Hesighed,andhishandwentuptorubhisforehead.“I’msorrywecan’tgoouttoeat.”
He’dbeengettingrecognized.Alot
TheWildernessCallswasablockbuster.OncethemoviecameoutandSaturdayNightLiveaired,hissoundtrackhadblownup.Themusicvideoforthethemesonghadoverfiftymillionviewsasofyesterday,andunlikewithhisClaymationone,hewasinit,frontandcenter.
AtthelastminutetheygavehimthecoverofGQmagazine,whichdidn’tsurprisemeonebit.Themantookagoodpicture.AndLola’slittletabloidscandalhadactuallyseemedtoworktohisadvantage.Hiswebsitecrashedthedayitcameout,soIguessthepublicitystuntsucceeded—evenifitdidalmostruinourlives.
Jasonlikedhisfans.Helikedsigningautographs.Hewaspersonableandoutgoing.ButIdon’tthinkhe’dquiteexpectedthislevelofcelebrity.Therewasnoshuttingitoff.
Hewasaneonsign.Peopletookpictureswithoutasking,cameuptohimatthestoreandthegasstation.Followedhim.Wehadgoneouttoalate-nightdinnerafewdaysagoandwehadn’thadamoment’speace.Andevenifhewasn’tbeingapproached,hewasbeinglookedat.Staredat.
Ontopofallofthat,hewassuperonedgeaftertheLolathing.Hesaidhefeltlikehecouldn’tprotectmewithrandomstrangerscominguptousateveryturn.
Iclimbedintohislap,straddlinghim,myshirtbunchinguparoundmyhips.Iwasn’twearingshortsandmyG-stringwasred.Heglanceddownandarchedaneyebrow.
“We’lljusthavetochangethewaywelivealittle,”Isaid.“Orderroomserviceinbedinsteadofgoingtorestaurants.Thatkindofthing.”Ikissedhimandhegavemeaweakbutgratefulsmile.
Hisheadlolledbackonthesofa.“Whatareyoudoingtoday?”Hishandabsentlycaressedmythigh.
“IhavetogotoFedExandshipoutthelastofmycommissions.ThenIneedtodropoffafewbagsatGoodwillandturnthehousekeysintotherealestateoffice.I’mstealingyourtruck.”
“Firstshestealsmyheart,thenshestealsmytruck,”hesaidtiredly.
“Technically,Istoleyourdogfirst.”
Hechuckled,lookingdownatmeoverhisnose,notliftinghisheadfromthebackofthesofa.“Anychanceyoumightbeabletodothegirlfriendthingandcomewatchmerehearsetoday?”
Ismiled.“Where?”
“CenturyCity.”
“IthinkIcanfitthatintomyday.”
Hebeamed,lookingtrulyhappyforthefirsttimethismorning,andleanedinandkissedme—butheknewmylipstoowell.Hepulledhisfaceback.“What?”
Iletoutasigh.“Ijust…Igotanemail—notabadone,”Isaidquickly,whenIsawtheinstantworryonhisface.“Forapainting.Arealone.NotEtsystuff.”
Hebeamed.“That’sgreat!Whatdotheywantyoutopaint?”
Ituckedmyhairbehindmyear.“It’salittlegirlonaswing.Andthey’reofferingmealotofmoneyforit.”
Hepulledmeintohimbymythighsandsmiled.“Ofcoursetheyare.You’reincredible.”
Ismiledweakly.“Imisscreating.FeelinglikeI’mreachingmyfullpotential.ItotallywanttodoitandIcan’t.”
Hewrinkledhisforehead.“Whynot?”
Ishrugged.“We’llbetouring.Ican’tpaintonabus.”
“Whendotheyneeditby?”
“Christmas.”
“Sodoitonourbreak.”
Ishiftedonhislap.Ihadn’tthoughtaboutthat.“Fiveweeksisn’tverylongtofinishsomethinglikethis.”
“Leavealittleearly,”hesaid.Heleanedinandkissedme.“AndI’mgladthiscameupbecausethere’sanothergiftinthebag,”hewhisperedtomylips.“Youmissedit.”
Ipulledawayslightlyandlookedathim.
“Goon.”
Ileanedoverandpickedupthebagagain,pullingoutthetissuepaper.Agiftcardsatatthebottom.
Itwastoanartsupplystore.
Forathousanddollars.
“Jason!Thisistoomuch!”Igasped.“Ican’ttakethis!”
Hewrappedhisarmsaroundmybackandputhislipstomyear.“Ijustthinkyou’resosexywhenyoupaint,”hesaid,trailingkissesdownmyneck.“Andnowthattherewon’tbeanymoreastronautcats,Ifiguredyoumightwanttogobacktopaintingyourownstuff.You’llneedsupplies,andIwanttosupportyoulikeyousupportme.”
Somethinghardinhislapwassupportingmeatthemoment.
“Thankyou,”Iwhispered.
Henippedatmylip.“You’rewelcome.”
Thenhegotupandthrewmeoverhisshoulderlikeacaveman.HeslappedmyassandIshrieked,gigglingasheturnedusforthebedroom.Chapter35
Sloan
?LittleBlackSubmarines|TheBlackKeys
Fourteenweekslater
ThealarmonJason’sphonewentoff.EvenTuckerwhinedfromtheendofthebed.
JasonmovednexttometoflickonthelightandIwinced.“Itshouldbeillegaltogetupbeforethesun,”Imumbled.
Helaughedalittleandproppedhimselfuponhiselbow,hishairmessy.“Howyoufeeling?”
“Myearsarestuffy.”
Acoolhandwaspressedtomycheek,andIclosedmyeyes.“Youdon’tfeelhot,”hesaid.
“Ithinkit’sjustallergiesorsomething.”Isniffed.“I’mokay.”
Jasonscooteduponhisforearmsuntilhewashoveringoverme.Hegavemeoneofhisamusedsmiles,whichmeantmyhairwasprobablycrazy.
“Don’tkissme,”Isaid.“Idon’twantyougettingsick.”Ifhedid,they’djustmakehimsingthroughit.
Hegrinnedandnuzzledintomyneckinstead.
“Whatcityarewein?”Iasked,yawning.
Heshiftedtolookathishand.“LastnightwasAtlanta.SoI’mthinkingMemphis?”
ZanealwayswrotethecityonJason’shandbeforehewentonstagesohewouldn’tthankthewrongplace.
“Aww.I’vealwayswantedtoseeMemphis,”Ipouted.We’dbegonebytonight.
“Whydon’tyouskipsoundcheckandgosightseeingwithJessa?”heasked,lookingdownonme.
Jessawastheleadsingerofhisopeningband,Grayscale.ShewasalsoverygoodfriendswithLola.Ididn’tholditagainsther.Jessawasactuallyprettynice,andweseemedtohaveanunspokenagreementthatwedidn’tdiscussLola,whichhelped.ZanewassuperclosewithJessa’spersonalassistant,Courtney,soweallhungoutalot.WealwaysgotroomsnexttooneanothersowecouldgoinandouttheconnectingdoorsandborrowcurlingironsandwatchTVtogether.
Ishookmyhead.“I’mnotgoingsightseeingwithoutyou.Ifwe’renotseeingMemphis,we’renotseeingittogether.”
Hekissedmyforeheadandsmiled,hisblueeyescreasing.
Iputahanduptohischeek.“Ihopeourkidsgetyoureyes.”
Hissmilegotdeeper.“Andtheirmother’sartistictalent.”Hetookmyhandandcurleditupinhis.
Isighed.“Ihaven’tdoneanythingtalentedinawhile.”
Henarrowedhiseyes.“Well,maybenotartistically.Buttherewasthatthingyoudidwithyourmouthonthebuslastweek.”
Igaspedandhithim,andhechuckled.
“YouknowhowIknewyouwerethegirlforme?”heasked,pullingmeintohim,hisforeheadtomine.“WhenIsawyoulickingthatchipbag.Isaidtomyself,‘That’sher,Jason.She’stheone.’”
Igiggled,andhestartedtotickleme.Ishriekedandtriedtowriggleawayfromhim,andhelaughed.Thenhisalarmwentoffagainandallthefunabruptlystopped.Webothletoutasighandgotupandwanderedtothebathroom.
Hehandedmemytoothbrushandwestoodoverthesinkbrushingourteethinourwell-practicedroutine.Istaredatmyselfinthemirror.God,Ilookedlikehell.LikeIneededtobedippedinafull-bodymoisturizerorsomething.IhaddarkcirclesundermyeyesandIwaspaleagain.Eventhoughmostofourhotelshadpoolsandspas,wedidn’thavetimetousethem.
Maybeweneededtodrinkmorewater.ImadeamentalnotetomakeJasondothatwithme—eventhoughhelookedgreat.
Jasonwasbornforthislife.Noneofthetravelingfazedhim.Nottomentionitwasinhiscontractthathehadtodoatleastanhouratthegymwithapersonaltrainerfourtimesaweek.SowhileIwasgettingpuffyandpale,hewasgettingtonedandhotterthanhealreadywas.Itwassounfair.
IletmyeyesfollowthelineofhairdownJason’ssix-packstomachintothewaistbandofhispajamabottoms.WhenIlookedup,hewassmirkingatmewithhistoothbrushinhismouth.Hebouncedhiseyebrows,andIlaughedandspit.“Don’tletitgettoyourheadjustbecauseyou’restillgorgeousdespitethismarathonwe’vebeenrunning.”
Hespittoo.“Well,Ihavetobeequaltomybeautifulgirlfriend,don’tI?”Hewinked.
Iscoffed.“Yeah,right.”Myeyeswerebloodshotfromcoughing.Iwasbloatedandexhausted.
Ididnotadjusttochangewell.Ihadn’tknownthisaboutmyselfuntilchangewasallIdid.
We’dbeenontheroadthreemonths.AndnoneofitwasatallwhatI’dexpected.Therewasnothingglamorousorvacation-likeaboutanythingweweredoing.
Bus,hotel,venue,flight.Radiostation,newsstation,photoshoots,fastfood,sixhoursofsleep,fourhoursofsleep,backinthebus.Perpetualmotion,allthetime.Itwassoconstantmybodycouldn’tcatchup.
Thecrewgottwodaysoffaweek—butwedidn’t.TherewasalwayssomesortofmediathingtheyneededJasondoing.Hewastooafraidtonotdoit.Ifhedidn’tsellouthisconcerts,they’dbringinLola.Itwasexhausting.
I’dbeenfightingthiscoldforforever.Mystomachwasamesstoo.Wewereeatingnothingbutjunk—andtherereallywasn’tmuchofachoice.Jason’stourmanagerhadhimonsuchatightschedule,stoppingforanythinglongerthangasandwhateverrestaurantwasintheadjacentparkinglotwasallwecouldmanage.Weateatalldifferenthoursoftheday.Sometimeswehaddinneratfivebeforehisshow,sometimeswedidn’teatuntilmidnight.Iwasjet-laggedandweweren’tevenoutoftheUnitedStatesyet.
Iwaslivingforourfive-weekbreak.Countingdownthedays.ItwasSeptemberfourthandwehadtenmoreweeksofthisuntilthetimeofffortheholidays.Ihadn’tseenKristeninmonths.JasonkeptofferingtoflyherandJoshout,buttherewasnopoint.Wealmostneverstayedinthesameplaceformorethantwodaysandthebabywouldn’tdowellwithallthetraveling.
SotheplanwastospendaweekinElywithhisfamilyforThanksgiving,andthenamonthinCaliforniasoIcouldpaintandseeKristenandmyparents.Amonthwasn’talotoftimetopulloffthepiecethathadbeencommissioned.ButIdidn’twanttoleavehimearlyandhonestly,IwassoexcitedtodoitIdidn’tcareifitmeantIhadtopaintfourteenhoursadayjusttofinishitintime.
Imissedpaintinglikeapenetratingacheinmysoul.I’dnevergonethislongwithoutdoingitinsomecapacity.Now,overthreemonthswithoutapaintbrushinmyhandandIcravedit.NottomentionIwantedthework.I’dmadeanicechunkofchangefromthesaleofmyhouse.Ihadmyownmoneytospend—notthatJasonwouldletme.ButIwantedapurpose.Somethingthatwasn’tjustbeingJason’sgirlfriend.
SomeoneknockedonthedoorandIputonmyrobeandwenttoanswerit.Thiswaspartofoursystemnow.IgotthedoorandJasongotoutofsightincasesomeonepassedbyandsawhiminside.
We’dlearnedtodothisthehardway.Ifsomeonespottedhimintheroom,wehadtomoveorwe’dhavefansorcameraswaitingforuswhenwecameout—orworse,knockingandwakingusup.
IopenedthedoortoZaneholdingourcoffeesandtheroomserviceguywiththecartstandingthereatthesametime.
“Hey,”Isaid,lettingthembothin.
Ibreathedinthewarmsmellofpancakesandbaconasthecartpushedpastmeintotheroom.AtleastIcouldcountonasemi-decentmealwhenwestayedinahotelwithroomservice.Buteventhathadlostitslustermonthsago.Allthemenuswerethesame.Thesamefiveorsixoptionsforeverymealateveryhotel.IhadneverthoughtI’dbeboredofroomservice,butherewewere.
I’dpicturedwe’deatatallthesignaturerestaurantsinthecitieswewouldvisit.BarbecueinKansas,deep-dishpizzainChicago,cheesesteaksinPhiladelphia.Butwedidn’treallyvisitthecitieswewerein.Wedrovethroughthem.Sometimessofastwedidn’tevenknowwe’dbeenthere.
ZanehandedmemyStarbuckslatteandputJason’sblackSumatradripnexttotheTV.Shepulledafolderoutfromunderherarm.“Here’stheschedule.Theybookedhiminthesixo’clockslot.”
Igroaned.“Theycouldn’tprerecordit?”
“Nope.Live.Sorry.”
Ugh.Thismeantthatinsteadofanykindofsit-downdinnertonight,hewasgoingtorunrightfromthenewsstationontothestage.Again.
Isighed,moppingatmynosewithatissueandscanningtherestofthetimelinefortheday.Aftertheconcerttonightweweremakingthethree-hourdrivefromMemphistoNashvilleforafestivaltomorrow.Sowe’dcheckintothehotelat2:00a.m.Soundcheckat8:00.Festivalatnoon.
Anothercrappyschedule.
Zaneseemedtosensemywearinessandsignedtheroomserviceslipforme.
“Youokay?”sheasked,aftershelettheguyout.
Jasonwasintheshower.Icouldhearthewaterrunning.
Irubbedmyforehead.“Yeah.I’mjustsotired.”
“Gogetyournailsdoneorsomething.Skipthisshit.”
Ilookeddownatmyhandsandthechippedpolishonmyfingers.
Itwasfunny,becausewhenIwasgrievingBrandon,Ididn’ttakecareofmyselfanditwasexactlylikethatnowtoo.
“Wantmetogetyousomethin’?”sheasked.
Zanewasgreat.Shewaslikeourliferaftouthere.Weweresoisolated.Jasoncouldn’tevengetoffthebushalfthetimeorhe’dendupsigningautographs.Hecouldn’tevengointoaCVSandpickhisowndeodorant.Zanedideverythingforus.Ourlaundry,ourerrands.
“I’mfine,”Isaid,coughingintomyelbow.“Thankyou,though.”
“Youjustgottagetusedtotheroad,”shesaid,leaningdowntograbthebagofdirtyclotheswherewealwaysputitbythedoor.“You’llbeaprobythenextone.”
Iscoffed.“AtleastI’llgetafewyearstorecoverfromtheoneI’mon.”
Sheflungthebagoverhershoulder.“Youwish.”
“Ha.He’sdoneafterBrisbane,”Isaid,wipingmynose.
Shelookedconfused.“Hegetsathree-monthbreakafterthisoneandthenhe’sbackontheroad.Hedidn’ttellyou?”
Iblinkedather.“No…”
“They’vebeensendingaroundthepaperworktothecrewtoextendtheircontracts.Ijustgotmineyesterday.Maybehedidn’tknowyet.”
Mystomachdropped.“Areyousure?”
“Verysure.Lookslikehe’sprettyhotinTokyo.Ihearthey’resendinghimthereandthenBrazil,Chile,Panama,Argentina.It’sgood.Meanshe’sbig.”
Icompletelydeflated.Anothertour?Threemonthsoffandthenmoreofthis?“OhmyGod…”Ibreathed.
Zanepattedherleg.“Let’sgo,Tuck.Walktime.”
TuckerjumpedoffthebedandletZaneleashhim.“I’mabringupsomeDayQuil.Textmeifyouwantanythingelse.”
Iletthemoutandputmybacktothedoorafteritshut.
Thedisappointmentcrashedintomelikeawholenewwaveofexhaustionandmyeyelidlurchedintospasms.
Ididn’tknowwhatI’dexpected.Imean,they’dhavehimdoingsomethingwhenthistourwasover.ButI’djustthoughtitwouldbewritingandrecordinghisnextalbum,home,withme,inahousesomewhere.Ithadneverevenoccurredtomethatthey’dhavehimdothisalloveragain,rightafterthelastone.
Sowasthiswhatitwasgoingtolooklike?Ontour,offtour,andthenbackagain?Forever?
Thewatershutoffintheshower.
Itookanothersecondtocomposemyselfandwentbackintothesteamybathroom.
“Everythingallright?”heasked,lookingatmeashetiedatowelaroundhiswaist.
“Didyouknowthey’reschedulinganothertourforyouafterthisone?”Iasked.
Hefroze.“No.Where’dyouhearthat?”
“Zanesaidthey’rerenewingthecontractsforyourcrew.Thatyou’regettingthreemonthsoffandthenyou’regoingback.”
Isawtheticinhisjaw.“Whattimeisit?”
“TooearlytocallErnie,”Isaid,alreadyknowingwhathewasthinking.
Jasonpickeduphisphonefromthesink,dialed,andhitSendanyway.
HestalkedoutintothebedroomandIfollowedhim.“Jason,it’slikefoura.m.there.”
Heturnedandputthecallonspeakerandhelditbetweenus.
Erniepickeduponthesecondring.“Goodmorning,kids.CallingmefromGraceland?”hesaidgroggily.
“Aretheyputtingmeonanothertour?”Jasonasked.
Therewasapregnantpause.
“Eh,fuck,”Erniemumbled.“Givemeasecond.”
Erniemutteredsomethingmuffledtohiswife.Afewmomentspassedandthenadoorshutinthebackground.“Whotoldyou?”
“Isittrue?”Jasonasked.
“Lookatitthisway,youhavejobsecurity.”
IshutmyeyesforalongsecondandwhenIopenedthem,Jason’sfacelookedlikeanapology.
“Technicallyit’snotanewone,”Erniesaid.“It’sthesametour,extended.It’sagoodthing.Meansyou’reindemand.IwasfightingforanothersoundtrackforyoutokeepyouinLA,PattyJenkinsfellthrough,though,andthedealgotfucked.You’renotwritingandyou’renotrecording.They’renotgonnaletyousitprettyanddonothing,myfriend.Andyou’rehotinTokyorightnow.”
JasonandIlookedateachother,havingasilentexchange.Hedraggedahanddownhisbeard.“Ernie,Ican’tdoanotheroneofthese.Thisschedule’sfuckingridiculous.Ihaven’tbeenabletorestmyvoiceinmonths,we’reexhausted.”
Istaredathim.Hewasn’texhaustedatall—thiswas100percentforme.Anditwasthefirsttimehe’dreallyadmittedthathewasn’thappywithwhatwasgoingon.
“Yup,well,it’sbullshit,”Erniesaid.“Butunfortunatelyit’swhatyousignedupfor.Ifyougivethemanalbum,Icangetyousixmonthsofftheroadinsteadofthreetoproduceit.They’reonlygivingyouthethreeinhopesthatyouactuallywritesomething,otherwisethey’djustkeepyougoing.”
Jason’seyeswentsorrierstill,andhesatheavilyontheedgeofthebed.
Hecouldn’twrite.Itwasbadbeforewewentontheroad,andnowitwastheworstithadeverbeen.Idon’tknowhowtheyexpectedhimtosummoncreativityundertheseconditions.
“AndsinceIhaveyoutwoonthephone,Igottatellyousomethingelse,”Erniesaid.“AndI’mgonnawarnyou,you’renotgonnalikeit.”
Jasonlookedupatmeandwewaited.
“TheybookedyouinAmsterdamforThanksgiving.Andyou’regoingtoParisforChristmas.”
Whatlittlewasleftinmytankbledout.Chapter36
Jason
?idon’tknowwhattosay|BringMetheHorizon
ThelightdrainedrightoutofSloan’seyes.Sheblinkedatmewordlesslyforafewseconds,thenturnedandwalkedslowlyintothebathroom.
“Ernie,Igottacallyouback.”
Ihungupandfollowedher.ShewassittingontheclosedlidofthetoiletseatwithherfaceinherhandsandIcrouchedinfrontofher.“I’msorry,Sloan.”
Ididn’tknowwhatelsetosay.Iwassorry.Iwassorryeveryfuckingdayouthere.
Thiswasn’talife.Shewasrun-downandbored.Shemissedherfriendsandherfamily.IdidwhatIcouldtomakeitfunforher,butbeingontheroadwasjustfuckingbrutal.
Shedidn’ttakeherfacefromherhands.“Ijustneedaminutetoprocessthis,”shesaidquietly.
She’dbeenlookingforwardtogoinghome.ShemissedKristen,andshewantedtodothatcommission.Itwasallshetalkedabout.Andnowithadjustbeenrippedoutfromunderher.
Whatkindoffucked-upcosmicjokewasitthatmypassioninvolvedconstantmotionandtravel,andhersrequiredtotalandcompletestillness?
“Hey.”Iputakissonherknee.“MaybewecangoseetheLouvre?”Isaidhopefully,knowingthatthey’dprobablyhavemerunningtothenextthinganditwouldn’thappen.
Shemusthaveknownittoo.Shedidn’treply.
“Sloan…”
Shetookadeepbreathandpulledapieceoftoiletpaperfromtherollandwipedathernose.“Okay.Itiswhatitis.”Shesniffed.“Wecan’tchangeit.Sohowmuchlonger?”Herbeautifuleyeswerebloodshot.“Howlongisyourcontract?Whenit’sover,Erniecanrenegotiateyourterms,right?Wecanaskforbetterschedules?Morecontrol?”
“Yes,but…”MyheartsankatwhatIwasgoingtohavetotellher.
WhenIgotmyrecorddeal,I’dbeenecstatic.Mostmusiciansgotasinglealbumofferwithanoptiontorenewiftheartistdidwellenough.Yougotofferedtwoalbumsifthelabelhadfaithinyou.VeryfewgottheofferIdid—andI’dgottenitbecausethey’daccuratelyforeseenwhatwashappeningtomenow:stardom.
Erniehadwarnedmeitwouldtiemetothem,butIdidn’tcare.I’dlandedoneofthetoplabelsintheworld.Iwantedtobetiedtothem.IwantedtobeDonHenleyfamous.
Iwasn’tafraidofthework.Icouldn’tevenimaginethescenarioinwhichIwouldn’twanttoberepresentedbyoneofthemostpowerfulforcesinthemusicindustry.Erniehadnegotiatedgreatroyaltiesandperks—myadvancewasmoremoneythanIcouldhaveimaginedinmywildestdreams.Iknewthey’dpushmehard,butIwassingle,Iwasusedtobeingontour,theroaddidn’tbotherme,andwritinghadneverbeenanissueforme,soIhadnodoubtsthatIcouldproducewhatweagreedupon.
Andnoweverythingwasdifferent.
Icouldn’twrite.TherewasSloantoconsider.Lolawashangingovermyheadlikeafuckingguillotine.Thisrecorddealwascrushingmeunderitsweight,andallIwantednowwassomethinginthemiddle.Manageablefameandsuccessthatwouldstillgivemethepossibilityofalife—becausethatwasnotwhatthiswas.
Shewaited.“Howlong?”
Ishookmyhead.“It’snotasettimeframe,Sloan.Mycontractisforfouralbums.Thesoundtrackwasone.Ineedthreemore.”
“Allright.Andhowlongwillthattake?”
IpausedbeforeIansweredher.
Shelickedherlips.“Sixmonths?Ayeareach?Whatarewelookingat?”
“Theaveragetimebetweenalbumsformostmusiciansisthreeyears.”
Thenewshitherlikeasmack.Sheactuallyrecoiledfromit.
“Threeyears?”shebreathed.Herredeyesdroppedtoherlap,movingbackandforth.“Threeyears,Jason?”Hergazecamebackuptomine.“Each?”
“Iknowit’salot—”
Thecolordrainedfromherface.“Andyoucan’twrite,”shewhispered,therealityofoursituationtrulysinkingin.“Itcouldbeninemoreyearsofthis?More?”Hereyesbeggedmetotellheritwasn’ttrue.
AndIcouldn’t.
Withnothingtosay,Igotup,feelinglikeIhadtodosomethingtomakethisbetter,buttherewasnothingtodo.“I’mstartingabathforyou.”
IranthewaterintheJacuzzitubandpouredinthehotelsoap.“You’restayingheretoday.You’resick.”
Shedidn’targuewithmelikesheusuallydidwhenItriedtogethertoleavemetodosomethingforherself,andIcouldn’ttellifthatwasagoodsignorabadone.
Istoodherupandstartedtoundothebeltofherrobe.Shelookeddazed.Shewouldn’tmakeeyecontactwithme.
Herblondhairwastiedinasloppybunontopofherhead.Sheneverworeitdownanymore.Sherarelyputonmakeup,shedidn’tgethernailsdone.Ididn’tcareoneouncehowshelooked.Shewasbeautifultomenomatterwhat—butIcaredwhatitmeant.Shewasn’ttakingcareofherself.
Shewasdeterioratingouthere.IfeltlikeI’dtakenanorchidonaroadtripanditwasn’tthriving.Iwaswatchingitwither,itspetalsfallingoff,andtherewasnothingIcoulddoaboutitexcepttakeitbackhomeandplantit.Andnowthatwasn’tgoingtobepossible.
ShecoughedmiserablyandImanagedtoactuallyfeelworsethanIalreadydid
“I’llbringyourbreakfastinhere,”Isaid.“Andthenyou’regoingbacktobed.Comeon.”
Ihelpedherintothetubandwenttotheroom,grabbedthechairfromthedesk,androlleditintothebathroomsoshecouldusetheseatasatable.ThenIranherfoodinandsetitup.ThewholetimeIwaslookingatmywatchbecauseIwasalreadyrunninglate.Ineededtobehereforher,takecareofher—atleastbearoundwhenshewasreadytotalkaboutwhathadjusthappened—butIhadtobeatafuckingradiostationinstead.
IkissedherforeheadgoodbyebeforeIleftandshedidn’tsayaword.Shedidn’tevenleanintoit.
ZanedroveandIcalledErniefromthecar.Icradledthephonewithmyshoulderandtriedtorubtheencroachingheadachefrommytemples.
Hepickeduponthefirstring.“Didyouknowthatyoucanseethesunriserightthroughtheslidingglassdoorsofmylivingroomifmywifemakesyousleeponthecouch?”
Ipinchedthebridgeofmynose.“Ishouldn’thavecalledsoearly.I’msorrythewifeismad.”
“Oneofmywivesisalwaysmad.It’showIknowI’malive.How’sSloan?Shetakingitokay?”
IpeeredoutthroughthewindowattherainystreetsofMemphis.“No,she’snot.She’ssick.She’stired.She’snothappy.”
Hescoffed.“Whatthefuck’stheretobehappyabout?Thisroadshitsucks.”
Irubbedatmyeyestiredly.“It’slikeI’vewantedthismywholelifeandnowIhaveitandIjustwantittofuckingbeover.”
Ipicturedhimdoinghisheadbob.“Well,you’reavictimofyourownsuccess.Youhavetotourwhilepeoplewannahearyouplay.”Heletoutalongbreathintothephone.“Youknow,youdohavechoiceshere,myfriend.”
“I’mnotbreakingupwithher.”
“Well,that’sdefinitelyachoice,butthat’snotwhatIwasabouttosay—andI’malittleoffendedyouthinkI’dsuggestthatatthispoint.That’syourfirstwifewe’retalkingabout.”
Isnorted.
“Youcanbitethebulletandrecordthebullshittheywroteforyou.”
Igroaned.
“Hey,it’llgetyoustarted.Speeduptheenddate.It’sthatortheotherthing,andyoudefinitelydon’twanttheotherthing.Thereareonlytwowaysoutofacontract.Youfulfillit,oryougetdropped.Andthey’reonlygonnadropyouifyourcareer’sgonetoshit.Idon’tseethathappening,unlessyouhavesomekitten-drowningvideoouttherethatIdon’tknowabout.”
Iclosedmyeyesandlolledmyheadbackontheheadrest.
“Look,”hesaid.“Giveherabreak.Sendherhomeforafewweeks.”
Iliftedmyhead.Sendherhome?
Eventhethoughtofbeingontheroadwithouthermademystomachplummet.Shewastheonlythingkeepingmesaneouthere.Iwasaprisonerofmyfamenow.TrappedinabusorahotelroomunlessIwantedtosignautographs—whichIdidn’t.Theshinehadwornoffthatmonthsago.Ididn’tmindbeingsequesteredwithSloan,butwithouther?Shewasmywholeworld.Mybestfriend.Sendingherawaysoundedlikeajailsentence.
“WhatdoesSloanliketodo?”heasked.
Isqueezedmytemples.“Shelikestocook.Paint.SeeKristen.”
“Okay,thenthat’swhatyouarrange.Sheneedsavacationfromthisshit.Theburnoutisreal,andyou’renotevenoverseasyet.YoudragSloantotheUKlikethisandshe’sjet-laggedandmiserable,andshe’sgonnaendupgoingthewayofmysecondwife,packingupandleavingyourassforyourdrummerwhileyou’reatsoundchecksomewhereinBerlin.”
Inoddedwearily.
“Andshe’ssick?”heasked.
“She’sbeensickforweeks,”Iadmitted.Iprobablyshouldhavemadesureshewenttourgentcare,butshehadn’thadafeveranditwasn’texactlyeasytogetaway.
“I’llsendarockdocovertohavealookather.”
“Awhat?”
“Arockdoc.Amusician’sphysician?They’reoncallfortours.Theycometoyou.There’saguyinMemphisIlike.I’llgethimoverthere.He’llpatchherup—antibiotics,ashotofB12,she’llberightasrain.I’lldothatandyoufigureouthowtogetherhomeforafewweeks.”
Iletoutalongbreath.“Iguessit’sagoodidea.”
“Ofcourseitis.Allright,Igottago.Igottabringthewifeamimosaandacreditcardinbedormybackmightneverrecoverfromthiscouch.”
“Whydon’tyoujustturnoffyourphone?”Iaskedtiredly.
“BecauseIneedtobetherewhenmyclientscall.Whatyou’redoingisahellofalotharderthanwhatI’mdoing.IfIwouldhavehadanagentwhoansweredthephonetogivemerelationshipadvicewhenIneededhim,Imightstillbemarriedtomyfirstwife.AndthatwastheonlywifeIevershouldabeenmarriedto.”
Therewasaseriouspauseinthesilence.“Takecareofher,Jason.Youwon’tgetanotherone.”Chapter37
Sloan
?KeepYourHeadUp|BenHoward
ZanebroughtDayQuilandNyQuil.ItooktheNyQuil.Ineededtosleep.IneededtonotthinkaboutwhatJasonhadjusttoldme.Itwastooenormousandfar-reachingtoevencomprehendinmycurrentstate.
Adecade.
Thiswouldbeourlifeforthenextdecade
Iwouldn’tseeOlivergrowup.Iwouldn’tpaint.Iwouldn’tevenhaveahome.Whatwouldbethepoint?We’dneverbethereformorethanafewmonths.
Andtherewasnootherchoice.Iwouldn’teverleavehim.Thatwasthemostfinalthingofall.Ourfateswerebound—whathappenedtohimhappenedtome.
Thewaymybodycriedforsleepafterthisnewsscaredmebecauseitfeltlikebefore,whenIusedtosleepthroughmydepression.OnlythistimeIhadn’tlostanyonebutmyself,swallowedwholebyJason’scareer.
Iwaiteduntilitwas6:00a.m.inCalifornia,andIcalledKristen.
“God,yousoundlikeyouhavetheblacklung,”shesaid,whenIlaunchedintoacoughingfitinsteadofsayinghello.
“Iknow.I’vebeensupersick.”Iwipedmynosewithatissue.TuckerpushedhisfaceundermyarmonthebedlikeheknewIneededit.
Shesnickered.“DidJasonofferyouthepenis-cillinyet?”
“Uh,what?”
“Menthinktheirpenisisthecureforeverything.IsweartoGod,IcouldhavesometerminaldiseaseandJoshwouldbeoverherebouncinghiseyebrowslike,‘Gurl,Iknowwhatyouneed.’”
Mysnortoflaughterthrustmeintoanothercoughingfit.
“Sohow’sthegroupielife?”sheaskedonceI’drecovered.
IgavehertherecapofthelastweeksinceI’dtalkedtoherandtoldherwhathadhappenedthismorning.
“Damn,”shesaid.“Thatsucks.Whatareyougonnado?”
“Nothing.WhatcanIdo?It’shisjob.”
“Theguy’slikeanomad.You’rejustgoingtowalktheEarthwithhimforthenexttenyears?”
“Itwon’tbethewholetime,”Isaiddefensively.“We’llgetbreaks.”
“Ishouldhaveknownwhenyoutoldmethedudelivedinatrailerthatthiswasn’taput-roots-downkindofguy.”Oliverfussedinthebackground.“Youdonottravelwelleither.RememberintheninthgradewhenMomtookustoCoronadoandyournosebledthewholetime?”
Isnorted.“Andshekeptsaying,‘Thisistrulyunacceptable,Sloan,’likeIwasdoingitonpurpose?”
Wefellintolaughteragainandmymoodliftedabit.
“Look,”shesaid.“IfthiswasJosh,thenI’dgofullnomadtoo.Ifyoulovehim,dowhatyougottado.Buttryandtakebettercareofyourself.”
“Idon’tevenknowhowtotakecareofmyselfouthere.”Iswallowedthelumpinmythroat.“AndImissyouguys.”
Shepausedforalongmoment.“Wemissyoutoo.”
WetalkedforafewmoreminutesandthentheNyQuilkickedin.WhenIhungupwithher,Ididfeelalittlebetter.
Maybeshewasright.MaybeZanewasrighttoo.Ihadtofigurethisout.Ineededmoresleep.Ineededtoexerciseandeatbetter.
Erniehadreallypushedfordrivingatnightinsteadofthedayandsleepinginthebunksonthebus.Jasonthoughtitwasagoodideatoo,butwe’dtrieditafewtimesandIcouldn’tgetusedtoit.Mymindcouldn’trelaxknowingIwasinmypajamasonafreewaysomewhere.Itwasjustweird.AndIcouldfeelthebrakingandturningintoparkinglotsandIkeptwakingup.
Butifwedidthatinsteadofstayinginahoteleverynight,we’dhavethedaysfreeoftraveltoactuallydothings.We’dwakeupinourcityinsteadofrunningoutofhotelroomsat5:00a.m.anddrivingalldaytogetthere.Maybewecouldevensightseenowandthen,gotorestaurants.Thenwe’deatbetterandIcouldgetmovingagain.
IletoutasighasIclimbedunderthecoversandbunchedthepillowundermyhead.I’dtellhimwhenhecamebackthatIwantedtogivesleepingonthebusanothertry.Icouldn’tkeepdoingthesamethingsandexpectingdifferentresults.
Ifellintooneofthosecold-medicineslumbers.Thekindwhereyoufloatthroughtheblackanddon’tdream.
WhenIwokeup,Jasonwastheresleepingnexttome,anarmdrapedovermywaist.
Ittookmeafewmomentstoblinkawaytheconfusion.Theroomwaspitch-dark,butIcouldseethesunlightetchingthesidesofthecurtains.Hewassupposedtobegoneuntiltonight,runningarounddoingmediaandthenathissoundcheck.
Isatuponmyelbows.Theclocksaidnoon.I’dsleptfivehours.
Jasonstirredandopenedhiseyes.“Hey,you’reup.Howareyoufeeling?”
“Groggy.Whatareyoudoinghere?”
Hebrushedthehairoffmyforeheadandkissedit.“Icanceledmyday.”
“Youcanceledyourday?”Ugh.Hispublicistwasgoingtobesopissed.“Jason…”
“Don’tworry,Ididn’tcancelmyconcert.Butwe’restayingintoday.We’regoingtolieinbedandwatchcrimeshows.Zane’spickingupfoodfromthehighest-ratedrestaurantinMemphis,andIhaveadoctorcomingtoseeyouinanhour.”
Itwasapunchtomyheart.Mychinstartedtoquiver.“Jason…”
Heputhisforeheadtomine.“Sloan,Ihaven’tbeentakingverygoodcareofyouandI’msorry.I’mgoingtodobetter.”
Isniffed.“Thisisn’tyourfault,Jason.”
“It’sallmyfault.”Hiseyesheldmine.“There’snothingthatIwantmorethanforyoutobehappy.Doyouunderstand?Iwoulddoanythingtomakeyouhappy.”
“Iamhappy.”
Buthiseyestoldmehedidn’tbelieveit.
***
Twohourslaterthedoctorhadcomeandgone.Ihadbronchitisandadoubleearinfection.Whenthedoctorannouncedit,Jasonlookedlikesomeonehadkickedhisdog.IthinkhefeltguiltythatIhadn’tseensomeonesooner,butitwasn’thisfault.Icouldhavegonetourgentcarewhilehedidwhathehadtodo,butI’djustthoughtI’dgetoveritonmyown.
Thedoctorgavemeantibiotics,ashotofvitamins,prescriptioncoughmedicine,andabreathingtreatment.Andafterthat,JasonandIstayedinbed.God,weneededit.Itwasamazingthateventhoughwewerealmostneverapart,itwaslikewehadn’tseeneachotherinmonths.Nothingwedidoutherewasqualitytime.
WelaytheretalkingabouteverythingbutJaxon.IwassotiredofJaxon—andIthinkhewastoo.
Itfeltlikeanotherpersonwasinourrelationship.Onewhowasdemandingandrequiredourconstantattention.OurentirelifewasspentinthepursuitofJaxon’sneeds,andnowforthefirsttimeinmonthswewerefinallytakingtimeforus.Itfeltgood.
Maybethiswasthetrick.ThethingIhadtochase.Andmaybeifwesleptinthebus,ourwakinghourswouldbemorelikethisandlesslikewhatithadbeensofar.
Butevenasdrainingasthetouringhadbeen,therewasgoodinittoo.I’dfallensomuchmoreinlovewithJasonoverthelastthreemonths.I’dalwaysbeeninaweofhim—evenbeforeIknewwhohewas.ButnowIlovedhimforahundredmorereasons.
I’dlearnedhewaskindandpolitetoeveryone,fromthepeoplewhocheckedusintoourhotelstothecashiersatthegasstations.Ilearnedhe’dstayuntileverysinglepersonwhowantedtomeethimgotthechance,nomatterhowtiredhewas.Hewasgenerous.Hetippedwellandtookcareofthepeoplearoundhim.Healwayshelpedbringinhisgear,eventhoughhiscrewwassupposedtodoit.Iknewhecarriedaroundspareguitarpickstogivetolittlekidswhowantedautographs.Andmostofall,Iknewhecherishedme.Ifeltlikethecenterofhisgravity.LikewhereverIwas,hewasorbitingme.Itwasanhonortobelovedbyhimanditmadeallofthisworthit,eventhoughitwashard
Wewerelyingtherewithourheadsonthesamepillow,lookingateachother.HereachedoutandbrushedmyhairbehindmyearasIstudiedhim.I’dmemorizedeveryfreckleinhiseyes.Everyline.“Icouldpaintyourfacefrommemory,youknowthat?”Isaidquietly.“Youareburnedintome,Jason.”
Hesmiledgently.“Sloan,Ididsomethingforyou.”
Ibitmylip.“What?”
Heletoutabreath.“Youcansaynoifyouwantto,butIputalotofthoughtintoitandreallythinkyoushoulddoit.”
“Iputalotofthoughtintosomethingtoo,”Isaid.“Ithinkweshouldtrysleepingonthebusagain.You’reright,it’smorepractical.I’mjustgoingtohavetogetusedto—”
“IwantyoutogotoElyandstayafewmonthswithmyfamily.”
Iboltedupstraight.“What?!”
Hesatupandputoutahand.“Hearmeout,okay?It’snotascrazyasitsounds.Iwantyoutodothatcommission,”hesaid.“AndIthinkmyparents’housewouldbetheperfectplacetodoit.Youcouldpaintbythebaywindowoverlookingthelake.YoucouldtakeTuckerwithyouandhe’dhaveallthatspacetorunafterbeingcoopedupwithusforsomanymonths.Mymom’sfreezerisfullofwildgameandyoucouldcookandmaybestartupdatingyourblogagain.Momlovesyouandshewantstogettoknowyoubetter.Minnesotaiscentral,sonomatterwhereIamintheUS,youcouldflyouttoseemeandbetherewithinthreehoursandthetimedifferenceswon’tbethatbad.AndIcalledKristen.HerandOliveraregoingtocomeandstaywithyoutherefortwoweeks.”
Iblinkedathim.“You…youcalledKristen?”
Hisblueeyesheldmine.“Yes,Idid.YoucouldgotoCaliforniaforThanksgivingandseeyourparents.Andifyouleavenow,you’llbedonewiththepaintingintimetojoinmeinParisforChristmas.Thetimingisperfect.”
Iwasspeechless.
“Jason,Idon’twanttoleaveyou…”
Heshookhishead.“Look,wehavetofigureouthowtomakethisworkforbothofus.It’snotgoingtoendanytimesoon.Youneedtohavesomethingthat’sforyou.”Helookedmeintheeye.“Iwantyoutogo.Iwantyoutodothis.”
Westaredateachother,mychestrisingandfallingalittletooquicklyandhimlookinglevellybackatme.Itwassothoughtfulandsweet.Really,itwas.ButIcouldn’t…couldI?
AfterlosingBrandon,I’dfoundjoyinnothing.Everythingstoppedforme.Myworldwasableedingwatercolorintherain.Andnowitwasastarkwhitecanvas,beggingformetopaintonit—andmyhandsweretiedbehindmyback.
Iwasinanin-betweenagain.I’dsetupanewshrinewithoutevenrealizingIwasdoingit,onlythisonewasn’tforBrandonorJason.ItwasforJaxon.
Iwantedtodothatcommissionsobadlyitwasaphysicalcraving.Ihadtogosomewhereelsetopaintit.Thatwasthesimpletruthofit.Therewasnootherchoice.
AndJasonwasright.Ineededabreak.
IfIwentoverseaslikethis,Iwasgoingtofallapart.Iwasphysicallyexhausted,andtheUKlegwasevenlongerthanthisoneandI’dbejet-laggedontopofit.IfIwasworndownnow,howwouldIbethenwithoutachancetorecoverfirst?Icouldcomeback,reset,andbereadytotakeallthisonagain,andwe’dtrythebusthingandmaybeitwouldbeagamechanger.
Andtherewassomethingelsetoo.
IfIsaidno,ifIdidn’ttakehimuponthisoffer,he’dfeelworsethanhealreadydid.HeneededthissolutionasmuchasIdidsohewouldn’tfeelhelplesstomakethingsbetterforme.Icouldn’tlethimcarrythatguilt.
Ilickedmylips.“WhenwereyouthinkingI’dgo?”
“Tonight.”
Iblanched.“Tonight?Asinafewhours?”
“Ifit’stoofastoryou’renotuptoit,youcanstayhereforafewdaysandrest.Butthere’saflighttoDuluthatseventhirty.AndifyoulefttodayIcouldevengowithyoutotheairport.IalreadytalkedtoDadaboutpickingyouup.”
Ishookmyheadathim.“Whyiseverytriptoyourparents’housepitchedtomewithlessthantwelvehours’notice?”
Hesmiledgentlyatmeandwaitedformyanswer.
Iheldhiseyes.God,buttwowholeweekswithKristenandOliver!Andtheluxuryofunpacking,sleepinginthesamebeduntilIwasreadytowakeup,noalarmsgoingofforflightstocatch.NomorebusorendlessTacoBell.Painting.
“Sayyes,Sloan.”
Iletoutabreath.“Okay.”
“Okay?”
Inodded.
Helookedalmostrelieved.Hisfacewentsoftandheranathumbalongmycheek.
Therewassomethingsotenderinthewayhetouchedmeitmademeforgettobreathe.HelookedatmelikeIwasthemostbeautifulwomanintheworld.Iwassickandgross,buthedidn’tcare.Iwaseverythingtohimandhemademeknowit,everysingleday.
Andnowhewasgoingtobewithoutmeforweeks.Maybeevenmonths.Andhewasdoingitallforme.Iwashissacrifice.Justlikehewasmine.
Ipulleddownhishandandlookedatit,holdingitbetweenus,touchingthecallusesonhisfingertips.“Iloveyourhands.”Hisinstrument.Histalented,capable,lovinghands.
“Havethem.They’reyours,”hesaid.
Ismiled.“You’regivingmeyourhands?”
“Myhands,myvoice.Mybacktodoyourheavylifting,myarmstocarryyoutobedwhenyou’vehadtoomuchtequila.Mymoney,mytime,myheart.It’sallyours,Sloan.”
Icouldfeeltheloveinhiswords.Itwassoearnest,itmademyheartachesomuch,tearsprickedmyeyes.“IfIdidn’tknowanybetter,I’dsayyousinglovesongsforaliving.”
Heshookhishead.“It’sjusthowIfeel.I’myours.Allofme.IthinkIalwaysbelongedtoyou.Evenwhenyoubelongedtosomeoneelse.”Hiseyesmovedbackandforthbetweenmine.“Tuckerknewit.Hetookonelookandhesawtheotherhalfofmeinsideofyouandhebroughtyouhome.”
Twohourslaterwesaidgoodbyeattheairport.AndIwatchedhimpretendnottobesad.Chapter38
Jason
?BottomoftheDeepBlueSea|Missio
Fiveweekslater
IwasplayinginVegas.IwassittingonacoldmetalfoldingchairbackstagedrinkingmysecondRedBullofthenightwhenSloancalled.Itwasloud.Grayscalewasalmostdonewiththeirset.
IthadbeenfiveweekssinceI’dlastseenher.Imissedhersomuchitmademephysicallyill.Icouldn’tsleepandIwasgettingheadaches.Probablygrindingmyteeth,whothefuckknew.
ThiswholethingwithSloanwasacompleteandtotaltransferofenergy.Shewashappyandlightandrested,andnowIwasamess.Sayinggoodbyetoherhadfuckingwreckedme.
“Hey,babe.What’sup?”Isaid,rubbingmyforehead.
“Didyougetthecookies?”
Icouldhearthesmileinhervoice.Shewasalwayssmilingnow.Itriednottodwelltoomuchonwhatitmeantthatshewassomuchhappiernotbeinghere.
“Yeah.Thankyou.”
“Yourmomgavemetherecipe,”shesang.
Iarchedaneyebrow.“Didshe?”IsettheemptycandownandwavedatZane,pointingatitforanotherone.
“Yup.Icanmakethemforyounowwheneveryouwant.”
Iactuallysmiledalittle,despitethethrobbinginmyhead.“Shemustreallylikeyou.Shedoesn’tgivethattoanyone.”
Shelaughed.“Well,Ihadtobarterforit.IletherpostherfavoritegrouserecipeonTheHuntsman’sWifeinexchange.”
“Soshecanbebought.”Ichuckleddryly.
Momlovedher.Everyonedid.DadravedaboutmygirlfriendeverytimeIcalledhome.ButI’dactuallybeenregrettingsendingherthereinsteadofanAirbnbonthebeachorsomethingbecausemyparents,thoughwellintentioned,wereadistraction.
Sloanwasn’tgettingherworkdone.
Imissedher.EverytimeItalkedtoher,allIwantedtoaskwas,“Howlong?”Howmuchlongeruntilshecameback?
Herpaintingstookmonths.Iknewthat.AndIdidn’twanttorushher.Sheneededtofocus,andmeconstantlyaskingwhenshe’dbedonewithitwasn’tgoingtohelpthings.SoIneverpokedher.Itwasmynumberonerule.Iinquiredabouthowitwasgoing,ifitwascomingoutthewayshewanted.ButIneveraskedhowlong.
Andthenlastnightshe’dsentmeapicture.
Itwasn’tevenhalf-finished.
Myhearthadcrashedandburnedinmychest.
Idon’tthinksheevenstarteduntilKristenleft,sothatwastwoweeksofzeroprogress.Momwastakingherantiqueshoppingandtomeatraffles.Dadwasbringingheronhikesandhavingherovertotheoutfitter.I’dbeenrightaboutthecookingthing—Sloanhadstartedupdatingherblogagain.ButsheandMomtogetherwereadangerouscombination.Theycouldbeinthekitchenalldaylongiflefttotheirowndevices—whichtheywere
Undernormalcircumstances,I’dbethrilledthatmyfamilyhadembracedher.Buttheseweren’tnormalcircumstances.Iwantedherback.
I’dratherSloangettwohoursofpaintingdoneandcomehometometwohourssoonerthanIgetadeliveryofGrandma’scookiestomyhotelroom—eveniftheyweremyfavorite.
“Youwanttohearsomethingfunny?”Sloansaid.“Yourmomsaysthenexttimewe’reheretogether,wecansharearoom.”Shesoundedtriumphant.
“Wow,thatisbig,”Imumbled.ThebassfromthestagevibratedfromthefloortomybrainandIsqueezedmyeyesshut.
“Ithinkshe’shopingyou’llgetmepregnantsoshecankeepme.”
Isnorted.“Soundslikeagoodenoughreasontome,”Isaidtiredly.“Let’sdoit.Stoptakingyourpill.”
Shelaughed.“Wow,yourtourhasofficiallymadeyouinsane.”
“What?”Ipinchedmytemples.“YouwanttoraisekidswithKristen,don’tyou?Let’sknockyouup.”
Shegiggled.“Howromantic.Butpregnant?Andthenwithababy?Ontour?That’scrazy.”
Isquintedoutatthecurtains.“Howisthatcrazy?”
Shesnorted.“Areyoukidding?”
“WhywouldIbekidding?”Ifrowned.
“Pregnancyishard,Jason.Lookhowrun-downyou’vebeen,andyou’renotcarryingababy.Wecan’tdothatontour.”
Ishookmyhead.“Sloan,there’salwaysgoingtobeatour.Weknowthatalready.Wecan’tletthatstopusfromlivingourlives.”
“Jason,wedon’tneedtohavekidsrightnow.Wecanwaituntilit’sbetter.”
Ishookmyheadagain.“It’snotgoingtobebetter.Wehavetoworkwithwhatwehave.”
“Uh,bydoingsomethingnutslikedraggingmyselfaroundtheglobepregnant?Andthenwhat?Breastfeedingbehindstage?Acribinthedressingroom?”Shesoundedamused.
“Yeah,whynot?”
“Areyouserious?”Shelaughed.“Haveyoueveractuallymetababy?Youdorealizethattheyrequirearoutine,right?”
Myjawflexed.“Sloan,I’mnotjokingaboutthis.Ifwewanttohavekids,weshouldhavekids.”
Therewasabeatofsilence.“Youdon’tevengetdaysoff,Jason.”Thehumorhadsuddenlylefthertone.
“So?”
“SoIgetpregnantandthenwhat?Dealwithmorningsicknessandjetlag?WhenwouldIgotothedoctor?Andwouldyouevenbetherewiththewaythey’rerunningyou?WhatifIneededtobeonbedrest?WhatifIwentintolaborontheroadinaforeigncountry?Whatifthebabygotsickor—”
“Iwouldmakesureyou’retakencareof,”Isaidslowly.“Youknowthat.”
“Youcan’teventakecareofyourselfoutthere.You’vebeenhavingheadachesforweeks,you’renotsleeping.AndwebothknowhowIdoontheroad.”
Itriedtosteadymybreathing.“Soyou’rejustwhat?Notgoingtohavekidswithme?”
“Ididn’tsaythat,”shesaidcarefully.“IjustsaidIwouldn’tdoitrightnow.It’snotpractical.”
“Sloan,thisisthebestIcando.Ican’tchangeit.”
“Iknow.Butthatmeansyouhavetoberealisticaboutwhatyoucanhave—whatwecanhave—untilthissituationimproves.Lotsofcouplesputoffhavingkidswhiletheyfocusontheircareers.It’sfine.”
Butitwasn’tfine.Nottomeandnottohereither,nomatterwhatthehellshesaidtotrytomakemefeelbetteraboutit.
Thebackgroundmusicfromtheopeningbandcametoanend.Webothheardit.ZanehandedmemyRedBullandheldupahand,lettingmeknowIwasoninthreeminutes.
Sloan’svoicesoftened.“Look,youhavetogoon.Let’stalkaboutthislater,okay?Youdon’tneedtobeworkedupaboutthisbeforeyourshow.”
Iputmyfingersonmytemples.“Sloan—”
“Callmetonight,Jason.Iloveyou.”
Thelinewentdead.
Isetmyphoneonmylegandputpalmstomyeyelids.
Thisseparationwaskillingme.Iwasfuckingunravelingouthere.Icouldn’tkeepdoingthis.
Itwasnothinglikeithadbeenwhenwemet.Talkingonthephonewasn’tenoughanymore,andattherateshewasgoingwithherwork,Idoubtedshe’devenbeabletomeetmeinParis.Andnowthis?Howmanymorethingswasshegoingtohavetogiveup?
Idraggedmyselfonstageandwentthroughthemotions,butIcouldn’tstopthinkingaboutourconversation.
Itookaquickbreakhalfwaythroughmysetandcalledher.
“Hey,”shesaid,pickingup.
“Ineedtoknowyou’lldowhateverittakesforustohavealifetogether,”Isaidwithoutpreamble.
“YouwantmetotellyouI’llbepregnantanddraggingafteryoulikeagroupiewhileyougobearockstar?”shesaid,finallyirritatedwithme.“Really?Whyareyousodeadsetonarguingaboutthis?”
“Whyareyousodeadsetonmakingsurethiswon’twork?I’mamusician,Sloan.Youknewthiswaswhatyouweresigningupfor.”
“Isignedupfortouringwithyou.Me.Notbabieswhowillgrowupinhotelrooms.Notlittlechildrenwhowon’tevenbeabletoplayunlessit’sinabus.It’snotfairtothem.Iwouldn’tevenbringapuppyintothis.Notuntilyouhavesomebalance.”
“Iwouldhavebalanceifyouwerehere,”Isaidthroughgrittedteeth.
“Ican’tbeyourbalance,Jason.I’mnotdoingit,I’mnotfurtherreducingthequalityofmylifejustsoyoucanchecksomethingoffyourlist,”shesnapped.
“Sloan—”
Sheletoutashakybreath.“Jason,Ihavetogo.”
Shehunguponme.
Ihurledmyphoneagainstthewall.
Zane,whostoodbytheemergencyexittexting,gotpeltedwithshrapnel.“YouknowI’mnotgoingtobeabletoreplacethatuntiltomorrow,right?”shesaidcalmly.
“Fuuuuck!”
Iclawedmyfingersdownmyfaceandthenturnedmywrathonthenearestinanimateobjectandkickedoverafogmachine.“Nomoregoddamnmotherfuckingfog!”
Mybackupbandmilledaroundthewaterfountain,waitingforme,andtheylookedatmenowlikeI’dlostmydamnmind.
MaybeIhad
Iyankedoutmyin-earmonitorandstormedofftothebathroomtosplashwateronmyface.Ileanedonthesink,tryingtocatchmybreath.
Sonowwhat?Thepriceforbeingwithmehadgoneevenhigher?Shehadtotrailaftermeforyearsonend,sickandexhausted,missingherfriendsandfamily,notpainting,andnowIwastakingmotherhoodfromhertoo?
Ijustwantedhertotellmethatallofthiswasallright.Thatwe’dfigureitout.Getthroughit,dowhateverwehadtodo.Andshewouldn’t
Andwhythefuckwouldshe?Noneofthiswasallright.
Zanecamein.Shedidn’tscatteraftermyrampage,whichmademethinkeithershedidn’thaveanyself-preservationinstinctsorshethoughtraging,chronicallyexhausted,assholerockstarswereparforthecourse.
Fuck,maybetheywere
“CanyousendSloansomeflowers?”Imuttered,withoutlookingup.
“YouknowwhatIbetSloanwouldreallylike?”sheasked.“Foryoutonotbeadick.”
Ilookedupandglaredather.ShehadherarmscrossedoverherwhiteT-shirt.
“Youdoingokay?”sheaskeddryly.
“Fine,”Imuttered.
“Youdon’tlookfine.Youlooklikeshit.Andyousoundlikeshittoo,cometothinkofit.”
Inarrowedmyeyesatherthroughthemirror,butsheleanedonthewallandcrossedherlegsattheankle,unperturbed.“You’retakinganAmbientonightandIdon’twanttohearanycrapaboutit,”shesaidmatter-of-factly.“You’retakingoneeverynightuntilSloangetsback.You’renotsleepingandit’smakingyouanasshole.”
Ilookedawayfromherandletoutalongbreath.“I’msorry.Ijust…Ijustmissher.”
“Iknow.Shemissesyoutoo.Butyouneedtogetittogether.Pissingheroffisn’tgonnafixanything.”
Nothingwasgoingtofixanything.
LastweekI’dtalkedtoSloanaboutrecordingthebullshitmylabelhadsentover.Iwasgettingdesperate.IneededtostartworkingtowardanenddateandIstillhadn’tbeenabletowriteanythingworthadamn.Butshe’dblatantlyrefusedtoletmedoit.ShewassoupsetaboutitI’dhadtoswearnevertobringitupagain.Shesaidshedidn’twantmesingingastronautcats,thatshe’dbedeeplydisappointedinmeifIevercompromisedmymusiclikethat.
SothenwhatwasIsupposedtodo?Whatwastheout?ItwaslikenomatterwhatIdid,Iwasmakingherunhappy.
Isqueezedmyeyesshutandcountedtoten.Ernie’swords,thatIcouldn’thavemyfameandhaveSloan,streamedthroughmyheadlikeaprophecycometofruition.AndIdidn’tfuckingknowhowtofixit.Therewasnosolutiontothis.
“CanIuseyourphone?”Iasked,lookingoveratZane.
Shepushedoffthewall,pulleditfromherpocket,andslappeditintomyhand.“Don’tfuckingbreakit.”Thensheleft.
IcalledSloan.
Shepickeduponthethirdring.“Zane?”
“Sloan,it’sme.Don’thangup.”
“Whatdoyouwant,Jason?”Andthenshestartedtocry.
Itwasthekindofcryingthatdidn’tsoundlikeitwasbeginning.Itwasthekindthatsoundedlikeitwascontinuing.Myheartshatteredintoathousandpieces.Ifeltlikethebiggestassholeontheplanet.MychestgottightandIhadtoclutchitwithmyfreehand.“I’msorry,”Isaid.“I’msosorry,Sloan.You’reright.Ishouldn’tbeaskingyoutodomorethanyou’redoing.”
“Ihatethis,”shesobbed.“Ihatefightingwithyou.”
“Iknow.I’msorry,”Isaid,alumpgrowinginmythroat.“Ijustcan’thandlehearingyouwon’thavekidswithme.IalreadyfeellikeI’mruiningyourlife…Ijust…Ihavetoknowwe’regonnabeokay.”
IwantedtowalkoutofthatbathroomandtakethenextflighttoMinnesota.IfIhadn’tbeeninthemiddleofaconcert,Iwouldhavealreadybeenoutthedoor,evenifIgottoseeherforonlyanhourbeforeIhadtogetbackonaplane.
“You’renotruiningmylife,Jason.”Shesniffed.“Iknowwhatyouwantmetosaytoyou.Youwantmetotellyouthatwecanhaveeverything.Andyouknowwhat?Maybewecan’t.Maybewejusthavetoacceptthatourlifeisn’tconducivetocertainthingsrightnowandbeokaywiththat.”
How?HowthefuckwasIsupposedtobeokaywithsystematicallytakingeverythingfromher?
IsqueezedmyeyesshutandforcedmyselftosaywhatI’dbeenthinkingforawhile,thethingthathadhauntedmeincessantlysincethefirsttimeInoticedshewasn’thandlingtheroadwell.“Sloan…haveyouconsideredthatmaybeusbeingtogetherisn’tthebestthingforyou?”
Shewentsilentontheotherendforalongmoment.“Whywouldyousaythattome?”
“You’remiserable.”
Iheardherswallowinthesilence.“Jason,Idon’twanttohearyoutalkinglikethatagain.We’renotbreakingup.Howcanyouevensuggestthat?”
Iputmyforeheadinmyhand.“Youwantkids.”
“Andwecanhavethem.Whenwecanofferthemmorestability.”
Ishookmyhead.“When?Tenyearsfromnow?”
“I’llonlybethirty-six,”shesaid.“Iwon’texactlybeanoldlady.Youknow,lifedoesn’talwaysgiveyouwhatyouwant,Jason.Beinginarelationshipmeanscompromise.”
Iscoffedquietly.Theonlyonecompromisingwasher
Wewentquiet.Theaudiencebegantochantmyname.TheyweregettingrestlessandIwasgoingtohavetogoback.
Fuckit,letthemwait.
“WhydidyoucallmefromZane’sphone?”sheasked.
“Ibrokemine,”Isaid,notvolunteeringthedetails.
Shesighed.“Jason,Iloveyou.Ichooseyou.AndIknowyoufeelguiltybecauseofthewaythingsareandyoudon’thaveto.”
Ishookmyhead,eventhoughshecouldn’tseeit.“Iwantyoutohavealife.”
“Ihavealife.Withyou.”Shelaughedalittle.“Also,youshouldknowthatthenumberonereasonIwouldn’thavekidswithyourightnowisbecausewe’renotmarried.Untilyoumakeanhonestwomanoutofme,I’mnotopentoanynegotiations.”
Icouldhearthesmileinhervoice.Shewastryingtocheermeup.Makelightofthis.
Therewasnothingfunnyaboutit.
Ihadthering,butIwouldn’taskher.
Ididn’twanthertobelikeme,trappedinalong-termcontractthatshe’dgrowtoregret.Chapter39
Sloan
?FulStop|Radiohead
ThesecondI’dhungupwithJason,I’ddartedaroundmyroomandpackedmythingstoleave.IgrabbedTucker,saidgoodbyetoPatricia,andhadPauldrivemetotheairportinDuluthsoIcouldcatchthenextflighttoVegas.Ididn’ttellJasonIwascoming.Hewassolow,Iwantedtosurprisehim.I’dtoldhimgoodnightwhenwehungupandhewasn’texpectingtohearfrommeuntilthemorning.
Thelastfiveweekshadbeentorture.ItwasgreatseeingKristen,andIlovedcookingwithJason’smom.I’dgottensleep,I’dgottenhealthy—andnoneofitcomparedtobeingwithhim.Notevenalittle.
Itwasgoingtotakemeatleastanothermonthtofinishthepiece,andIdidn’thaveanothermonthinmewithouthim.I’dalreadybeendebatingcomingbacktotheroadearlywhenwe’dhadourargument,andthatwasthedecidingfactor.
Whathe’dsaidscaredme.
Iknewthisseparationhadbeenhardforhim.That’swhyI’dmadeitapointtoalwaysbehappywhenwetalked,sohe’dknowhissacrificewasn’tawaste.ButnowIthoughtmaybeIshouldhavelethimseehowawfulitwaswithouthim.Honestly,Icouldn’tevenfocusonwhatIwasheretodo.IspentmostofmydaystryingtodistractmyselffromthefactthatIfelttooinafunktopaint.
Weweresimplynogoodwithouteachother.Thisseparationhadbeentheproof.Wewerebothmiserable.Ihadtogoback.Iwantedtofallasleepinhisarmstonightandeverynightfromnowon.
EverystepItooktogettingbacktohim—gettingofftheplane,climbingintoanUber,walkingintothehotel—mademefeelelated,likeIwascominghome.
Theroadwashome.
ItwasmiraculousthatIfeltthatwayafterhowmuchithadwornmedown—butitwastrue.HomewaswhereverJasonwas,andknowingthisgavemetheworld’sbiggestsecondwind.Thistimewasgoingtobedifferent.Verydifferent.
SomuchofwhatI’dstruggledwithontourwasmental.I’dkeptthinkingaboutallthethingsIwasn’tabletodoandlookingforwardtothedayitwouldbeoverinsteadofappreciatingthateveryminuteouttherewastimewithhim.AndnowthatI’dseenwhatbeingapartwaslike,mybrainhaddoneacomplete180.
Icoulddothis.Icoulddothecrapoutofthis.
I’dlearntosleeponthebus.Thatwastheveryfirstthingonmylist.I’dfigureouthowtoeatbetter.I’dgowithhimtothegymandexercisewhenhedid.I’dgetaCrock-Potandmakeusdinnersowecouldeatrealfood.Imean,thebushadakitchen.Whynot?
Andwhycouldn’tIpaintontheroadifwedroveatnight?Thatwouldmeanduringthedaythebuswouldbeparked.Icouldpaintduringhissoundcheck.I’dhavetobecareful,figureoutawaytomakesurethecanvaswassecurewhenweweremoving,butitwasn’timpossible.Ididn’thavetolosemyselfinJason’scareer,Icouldfindmyselfhere.Reinventmyself.Evolve.
Hewasgoingtomarvelatthenewme.
Andyouknowwhat?Maybewecouldhavekids.Ifwegotthebusoutfittedwiththerightsleepingsetup,hadhelp?Wecoulddoanything.
Iwasgoingtochannelmyinnernomad.Makethisworkforbothofusandturntheseyearsintosomeofthebestofourlives.Reclaimmyselfandsupporthimatthesametime,learntoloveit.BecausemakinghimhappywastheonlywayIcouldbehappy—andIknewhefeltthatwaytoo.Thatwaswhatwasbotheringhimaboutallthis.Hethoughthewasrobbingmeofalife.Buthewasmylife—andwecouldhaveitall.
IstoodoutsideJason’shotelroomwithTucker,beaming,readytotellhimallmyplans,readytostartoveranddoitrightthistime.Iknocked,practicallybouncing.
Butwhenthedooropened,myentireworldcametoacrashinghalt.
Lolastoodinthedoorway.
Iwasfrozen.Icouldn’tevenbreathe.Myeyeshadtoadjusttoitlikesomeonesuddenlyturningthelightoninadarkroom.
SheworenothingbutunderwearandawhiteJaxonWaterssweatshirt.Theroomwasdarkbehindher.Shelookedlikeshe’dbeensleeping.
“Yeah?”sheaskedlazily.
Ijuststaredather.Icouldn’tbelieveit.Iliterallycouldn’tbelieveit.Iprobablyshouldhavebeenafraid.She’dbeenharassingmeandshebeatupmycar,butIwastooshockedforafraid.
Whatwasshedoinghere?
Mymouthopenedandclosedlikeafishoutofwater.
MaybeIhadthewrongroom?MaybeshewasinVegasforsomereasonandmaybetheywereputtingheronJason’stourandhehadn’ttoldmeyetbecausehedidn’tknowyetandsomehowtheirroomsgotswappedand…
ThefactthatI’dsentcookiestothisexactroomnumbernottwelvehoursagoglaredlikeneoninthebackofmymind.
Iswallowed.“Is…isJasonhere?”
Shelookeddrowsilyoverhershoulder.“Sleeping,”shesaid,peeringbackatme.
Thewindwasknockedoutofme.
Ididn’tunderstand.Whywouldshebehere?Everythingwedidwasaboutkeepingherfrombeinghere.Wehatedher.Jasondidn’twantheranywherenearus,andnowshewasinhisroom?
Tuckergrowledlownexttome,andLola’seyesdroppedtothesound.“I’lltakehim,”shemurmured,reachingclumsilyfortheleash.
Shewasdrunk.
Iyankedhimbackinstinctively.“No.”
IstaredatthewomanbetweenmeandthemanIloved.
ShewasshorterinpersonthanI’dexpected.Prettier.Shehadwavyredhairthathungalmosttohernavel.Sharpgreeneyeswithlongfakeeyelashesandperfectwing-tippedeyeliner.
Herlipswerebare.
Alumpstartedtobuildinmythroat.“Whatareyoudoinghere?”Myvoiceshook.
Shelookedatme,bored,andleanedherheadonthedoorframe.“Whatdoyouwant?”
Iblanched.
WhatdoIwant?Ibelonghere.Mycheststartedtoheave.
Thiswasthepersonbehindallthebadthingsinourlives.ShewasthereasonI’dhadtoghostmyselfonsocialmedia,changethenumberI’dhadwhenIwaswithBrandon.She’dhadusrunningourselvesintothepavementtokeepherfrombeingforcedonus.Shewaswhywedidn’tgetdaysoff.
Andnowshewasinmyboyfriend’sroomhalf-naked.
Asmallsurgeofanger-fueledbraverykickedin.Ipushedpasther.
Shemadealeisurelylaughingnoiseasshefellbackintothewall,likethiswasallhilarioustoherinslowmotion.
Andtherehewas.
Idon’tthinkIwouldhavetrulybelieveditifIhadn’tseenitwithmyowneyes.ButtherewasJason.Hewasinnothingbuthisunderwear,sleepingontopofthebedspread.
IstoodtheredumbfoundedforamomentbeforeIdartedtothemattressandgrabbedhisshoulder.“Getup!”Ishookhim.“Jason,wakeup!”
Hegroanedintothepillow.
Tuckerjumpedontothebedandstartedlickinghisface.Jasondidn’tevenpushhimoff.
Ilookedaround,mouthopen,tearsfillingmyeyes.Abottleofbourbonsatonthenightstand.Twoglasses.
Hemustbeshit-faced,Ithoughtwithdisgust.Therewasnowayhecouldsleepthroughthisotherwise
Wasthatwhathadhappened?HewasupsetwithmesohegotwastedandsleptwithLola?
Thefinalityofthesituationsmackedmeintheface.Howwasthishappening?How?Noneofitmadesense.
“Youshouldprobablygo,”Lolaslurredfrombehindme.
Ididn’tneedmoreprodding.I’dseenenough.
Iturnedandleftwithoutlookingather.SheclickedthedoorclosedandTuckerpulledathisleashbacktowardtheroomthewholewaytotheelevatorasIdraggedmyluggagebehindme,gasping.
IburstfromthesmokycasinoandwalkedvaguelyinthedirectionthatI’dcomeinmyUberfromtheairport.WhenIfeltlikemylungscouldn’tgivemetheairIneededtocontinue,Istoppedataclosedcafeonthestripandsatatoneoftheirdirtypatiotables.Iblockedeveryone.Zane,Jessa,Ernie—Jason.Ididn’twantanyonetryingtotalkmeoutofwhatIknewI’dseen—ortellingmemore.Iknewenough.
ThenIsobbedintothephonetoKristen.
Shetoldmetocomestaywithher.ShesaidJoshwasgoingtomurderhim.ShetoldmetogetoffthestreetsofVegasat1:00inthemorningandthatIwastoogoodforhimandIdeservedbetter.
Ididn’twantbetter.Iwantedhim
Iwasalone,homeless,anddevastated.AndnowIwasadriftagain,wavescrashingoverme,waterfillingmymouth.Chapter40
Jason
?AboutToday|TheNational
IwokeuplikeIwascomingoutofacoma.Layersofunconsciousnesspeeledthemselvesback,oneatatime.
Iprobablyshouldn’thavetakenthatAmbienwithbourbon,butI’dalreadyhadoneglasswhenZaneshowedupwiththepills.I’dneededadrinkafterthreeRedBullsandtheconversationwithSloan,andfranklyI’dforgottenI’dpromisedtotakethedamnthing.
Ilookedbetweenthetwoglassesonmynightstandfortheonethathadwaterandnotwhiskeyinitandgulpeditdown.ThenIfeltaroundgroggilyforthehotelphoneanddialedSloan,rollingawayfromthewindowandtheblindinglightcominginfromthecrackinthecurtain.
Itwentstraighttovoicemail.
Man,thatAmbienwasnojoke.I’dbeenknockedoutwithoutevengettingunderthedamncovers.Ididn’tevenremembergettingundressed.Hell,Ididn’tevenremembergettingonthebed
Thewirelesshotelphoneranginmyhand.IrubbedmyeyesandhittheAnswerbutton.“What’sup?”
“HaveyoutalkedtoSloan?”ItwasZane.
Iscratchedmybeard.“Nottoday.Why?”
“I’monmywayup,openyourdoor.SloanshoweduplastnightandLolawasinyourroom.”
Iboltedupstraight.“What?!”
“It’snotgoodnews.I’llbethereinasecond.”
Ileaptoffthebedandjumpedintopants.
ZanepoundedfromtheoutsideandIrantoletherin.Shebargedintalking.“IwasatthebreakfastbuffetandCourtneytoldme.Lolacamedownlastnight.ShewasinJessa’sroom,andSloanwasknockingonyourdoor.YoumusthavelefttheadjoiningdoorbetweenyourroomsunlockedbecauseLolacameinandansweredit.”
Shegrabbedtheknobandsureenough,thedooronmysidecreakedopenintotheroom.
Fuck,Icouldhavedoneanythinglastnightandnotrememberedit.Iwashalf-druggedonsleepingpillsandwhiskey.
IdoveforthephoneanddialedSloanagainanditwenttovoicemail.Mailboxfull.
ImovedtotheconnectingdoorbetweenourroomsandpoundedonJessa’sinnerdoor.“Jessa!Openup!”
Sheopenedit,stillhalf-asleep.IcouldseeLolapassedoutonthebedbehindher.Shewaswearingnothingbutoneofmymerchsweatshirtsandunderwear.JesusChrist,wasthiswhatSloanhadcomehometo?
“DidyouletLolainmyfuckingroomlastnight?”Iasked.
Jessapushedthesideofherpinkhairupandyawned.“Yeah.Somecrazybitchwasbangingonyourdooratoneinthemorning.”
“ThatcrazybitchwasSloan.Whatthefuckwereyouthinking?”
Jessa’seyeswentwide.“ItwasSloa—Oh,shit.I…dude,itwasloud.Wethoughtitwasanemergency.Lolatriedwakingyouupfirst,butyouwereknockedout.Shekickedyourbedandeverything.”
Ididn’tletherfinish.Islammedthedoorinherface.
“Shit!”Ipaced.“Ihavetofindher.Wehadafight,weweren’tokay.”
Zanewascalm.“Anyideawhereshemighthavegone?AnyfamilyinVegas?Friends?”
“Idon’tknow.Idon’tthinkso.”Panicdescendedonmelikeblackflies,swarming.
Iranallovertheroom,trippingovermyshoes,puttingonashirtandsocks,holdingthephonetomyearwithmyshoulder,callinghervoicemailuselessly.Shehadtobeoutofhermind.Fuck,whatwouldIthinkifI’dseenthat?
“Okay,”Zanesaid.“We’llstartcallinghotels.I’llseeifCourtneycangototheairportandlookforherthere.Youstaywhereyouareincaseshecomesback.”
Ifshewasinthecity,we’dneverfindher.ItwasVegas—therewereliterallythousandsofhotels.ShemighthavegottenacaranddrivenbacktoCalifornia.She’dgotoKristen’s,butIdidn’thaveKristen’sorJosh’snumberbecausemyfuckingphonewasinamillionpieces.Icouldn’trememberwheretheylivedeither,I’donlybeenthereonce.
ThephonerangandIdoveforit.ItwasErnie.“Didyoureallystompafuckingfogmachinetodeathlastnight?What’snext?Trashedhotelrooms?”
“Ernie,Ican’tfindSloan.”Idroppedintoachairandputmypalmstomyeyelidstryingtocatchmybreath.Itoldhimthewholestory.Ihadn’tthoughttocallhim,thinkingtherewasnothinghecoulddo,butheofferedtotrackdownKristenandgooverthereandlook.
AtleastIfeltlikesomethingwashappening.Ididn’tevenknowifSloanwastextingmeorleavingmevoicemailsbecauseIdidn’thavemycell.
Iwasafraidtomoveincasesomeonegotaleadonher,soinsteadIpacedlikeacagedanimal,dialinghernumber,hopingoneofthecallswouldn’tgostraighttovoicemail.
Iwaspulsingwithanxiety.Itwasalmostunbearable.Ihadadeep,gnawingclaustrophobiaaboutthewallsaroundme.
Shehadnohouse,nojob.Shecoulddisappearintotheworldwithoutatrace,andIwouldn’tknowwheretofindher.
Twohourslaterandnothing.
IwassittinginthedeskchairjustwaitingwhensomeonepoundedontheadjoiningdoorfromJessa’sroom.
Igotupquickly,hopingitwasnews.WhenIopenedthedoor,Jessalookedupatmewide-eyed.“Jason,Lola’sinthebathroomandshewon’tcomeout.”
Istareddownather.“Areyoufuckingkiddingme?DoyouthinkIgivetwoshitsaboutwhatshe’sdoingatthemoment?”Iwenttoclosethedoor.
Shethrewherselfagainsttheknob.“Jason,Iknowyou’repissed,butyouseriouslyneedtocome.Like,it’sbad.Justcomeon!”
“No.”Ipushedagain.
Shebracedherselfagainstthedoor.“Jason!”
Igaveupandletgo,throwingoutafrustratedhand,andJessastumbledintotheroom.
ThiswasallIneeded.Ididn’tevenhavethepatienceortheenergytoprocesswhatitmeantthatLolawashereinthefirstplace.Wassheonmytournow?Wasthishowtheywerelettingmeknow?Justdumpingherinmydamnlaptobabysitwithoutsomuchasafuckingphonecall?
Icouldn’tevencare.AllIcouldcareaboutwasSloan.ThatwasallIhadinme.“Havesomebodyelsedealwithher,”Isaid,droppingtiredlyintoachair.“Ican’tfuckingdothisrightnow.”
Shebouncednervously.“Jason,comeon,stopbeingadick.Thatcourtthingwithhermanagerhappenedyesterday.She’stotallytriggered.”
Irubbedmybrow.“Whatcourtthing?”
Shehuffedimpatiently.“Itwasalloverthenews?Hestoleallthismoneyfromher?Yesterdaytheyorderedhimtoreturnit,butit’salreadygone.Hehadlikeagamblingaddictionorsomething.She’snevergoingtogetitback.She’sallbrokeandbankruptandshe’stotallyfucked.Ileftforliketwentyminutes,andIcamebackandshewaslockedinthebathroom.Andlook.”Shedartedintoherroomandreturnedasecondlaterwithahandfuloflongredhair.“Shecutherhairoff.Like,allofit.”
Iscoffed.“Apublicitystunt.What’snew?”
ShescowledatmeandsmackedthehairontotheTVstand.“Whatthehelliswrongwithyou?”
Iglaredupather.“What’swrongwithme?Idon’tknow,let’ssee,shewroteafucked-upsongaboutmeandthensetmeupforpaparazziphotos,gropedmeonaredcarpetafterharassingmeformonths,andnowthisshitwithSloan?She’striedtoruinmylifeahundredtimesover.Shecangofuckherself.”
Jessasnortedindignantly.“Asongsheneveroncesaidwasaboutyou?Andwhat,youdon’twriteaboutreallife?Ididn’tseeyoucomplainingaboutthoseredcarpetphotoswhenyouweretrendingonTwitter.Shemadeeverywomanintheuniversewannaknowwhatyournamewas.Shewastryingtohelpyou.”
Ilaughedmirthlessly.“SoI’msupposedtothankherforgrabbingmyfuckingdick?”
Sheshookherheadatme.“Shelikesyou,Jason.Doesshehaveafucked-upwayofshowingit?Yeah,shedoes.Sheneedshelp.She’srelapsedandoffhermeds,andnobody’stryingtodoanythingaboutitbutme.Theassholewhowassupposedtobetakingcareofherscrewedheroveranddidhisbesttokeepherlikethisbecauseitmadeiteasiertodoit.She’sbroke,herlabel’stwosecondsfromdroppingher,andyoukickedheroffthetour.Shewasheretoaskyouifyou’dlethercomeback.Shewouldn’ttrytopissyouoff.”
Iclenchedmyteeth.“Ifshethinksthatshe’scomingonthistourafterwhatshefuckingdidtoSloanbeforeweleft—”Igrowled.“Never.”
“What?”Jessablinkedatme.“Shedidn’tdoanythingtoSloan.”
“Bullshit.Shesmashedhercarwindows,poppedhertires,hadpeopleleavingfucked-upvoicemails—”
Shelaughed.Itwassooutofnowhereitactuallysurprisedme.Littletinklingbellsofamusement.
“What?”Iasked,irritated.
“Getoveryourself.Shedoesn’tcareaboutyourgirlfriend.Seriously.Itwasthem.”
Ishookmyheadather,annoyed.“Who?”
Shewavedherarmsaround.“Them.This.Thisindustry.Thesepeople.It’sathing.Theyrunoffyourgirlfriends.Orboyfriends.Whatever.”
“Whatthefuckareyoutalkingabout?”
SherolledhereyeslikeIwasanidiot.“WhywouldtheywantyouwithSloan?Howdoesthatsellrecordsforthem?”Shecockedherhead.“Once,onhersecondtourwhenIwasopeningforher,LolawasallinlovewiththisbackupdancerMatthew?Theydidn’tlikethat.Theywantedherwithsomeonewhowouldboosthercareer.LilWayneorsomebody.FirsttheyofferedMatthewabetterjob.Hedidn’ttakeit,sothentheythreatenedhim.Andwhenthatdidn’twork?Heendedup‘accidentally’”—sheputherfingersinquotes—“gettinghiskneeshatteredinamugginginMoscow.He’llneverdanceagain.Shehasn’tseenhimsince.It’swhattheydo.Theydon’twanttheirup-and-comingsuperstarswithsomenobodytheycan’tsell.YouandLola?”Sheleanedforward.“Thinkaboutit.Everybodywantstoreadthatstory.Thefreepressalone.”
Istaredather.“No.”Ishookmyhead.“Theywouldn’t.”
Shesmirked.“Uh,yeah,theysowould.Theseindustrypeopleareshady.Youhavenoideahowgrosstheyare.I’vebeenwithLolasincethebeginning.Youdon’tevenknowwhatI’veseenthemputherthrough.”Shetickedoffonherfingers.“Starvationdietsatsixteenuntilshegotaneatingdisorder,theyleakedhersextapetothetabloids,bulliedherintoplasticsurgeries,gavehershittyagentsandmanagerssotheycouldcontrolher.Theyevenhadherownassistantcallingthephotogsonher.Andyouthinktheywouldn’tvandalizeacar?”
IheldJessa’sseriousstareforalongmoment.
“Ididn’tknowaboutthisorIwouldhavetoldyoumonthsago.”Sheshookherheadatme.“YoushouldknowthatunlessthepublicsuddenlywantsyouandSloantogethermorethantheywantpicturesofyoudatingcelebrities,she’salwaysgoingtobeatarget.You’reworthtoomuchmoneytothemnow.Honestly,I’dbreakupwithher.Justsaying.NooffensetoSloan.”
IstaredatherbeforeIlookedpasthertowardherroom,whereIknewLolawasbarricadedinthebathroom.
Wasitpossible?
Thensomethingoccurredtome.Itclickedinmybrainlikeaclockstrikingmidnight.SomethingsopainfullyobviousIdon’tknowwhyIhadn’tthoughtofitrightoutofthegate.
Lolawascrawlingwithpaparazzi.Allthefuckingtime.HowwouldshehavevandalizedacarinbroaddaylightwithoutpaparazzicatchingthewholethingoncameraanditendingupalloverTMZ?
Shewascapableofdrunkenactsofvehiculardestruction.Nofuckingdoubtaboutit.Butshewasn’torganized.Lolawasimpulsive.Carelessandreckless.SpoofingdozensofphonenumberstoharassSloananonymouslywasn’tsomethingshe’devenknowhowtopulloff,especiallyinhercurrentcondition.
Andsomethingelse…
Thatnightatmytrailer.
IknewmylabelhadbeentheonetogiveLolathegatecode.ButallthistimeI’dthoughtshewasinonit.Thatshe’dsetmeupforthosepaparazziphotos,orattheveryleastshoweduptoharassme.ButnowIrememberedsomething.
LolahadsaidI’daskedhertocome.ThatI’dsnappedmyfingersandshe’dcomeallthewaydownthere.Ididn’tthinkmuchofitatthetime,shewassofuckingwasted.Butnow…
Theyliedtoher.
Theysenther.
Mymouthwentdry.
“Myownfuckinglabel,”Iwhispered.
Itwasn’tLola.ItwasneverLola.
Thewholeroomstartedtospin.
Itwasthemallalong.Mypersonallifewasanagenda.Somethingtosell—andSloandidn’tfitintothenarrative.I’dputherindanger.I’dputherindangerbecauseI’dmadeadealwiththefuckingdevil.
AndLola…
Trappedonthismerry-go-roundsinceshewassixteenyearsold.Exploitedandmanipulated,nobodytoprotecther.NoErnieorZanetowatchherback.Sickandnoonetohelphergetbetter.
Shewasn’ttheenemy.Shewasn’touttogetme.Shewasapawn.
Just.Like.Me.
IgotupandranpastJessatothebathroominherroom.“Lola?”Itriedtheknob.“Lola,letmein.”
Nothing.
Ipounded.“Lola,Ineedtomakesureyou’reokay.Ifyoudon’topenthedoor,I’mbreakingitdown.”
Silence.
IlookedoveratJessa.Shestoodthere,chewingonherlip.
“Standback.”Ibackedupandslammedmyshoulderintothedoor.Ittookfourhardhitsuntilthelockgaveoutandthedoorswungintothebathroom.
Mystomachdropped.
Lolasatbythetoiletwithherkneesdrawnuptoherchin.Abloodypairofscissorslayonthewhitetilenexttoher.Herhairwashackedtopieces,allthewaydowntothescalp.Spotsofbloodsoakedthroughthewhitesleeveofhersweatshirtonherleftarm.Jessadartedtoherfriend,andIcrouchedinfrontofLolaamonghalfadozentinyemptyvodkabottlesfromtheminibarscatteredaroundthefloor.“Hey,”Isaidsoftly.
Herpuffyeyesstaredstraightahead,andlongstreaksofblackmascararandownhercheeksandmetunderherchin.
Sheletmetakeherwristandcarefullypullbackhersleeve.Aslewofthin,inch-longcutsrakedupherarm.Theyweresuperficialandalreadyscabbingover.
IlookedatJessa.“She’sokay.”
Hereyeswerewide.“Jason,Ican’tdoblood.”
“Allright.I’lltakecareofit.Yougetheracoffeeandawaterbottle.”
Shenoddedanddisappeared.
IturnedbacktoLola.“I’mgoingtocleanthisup,okay?”Isaidgently.“Let’sgetthisoffyou.”
Hergreenunfocusedeyessettledonme,likeshewasjustrealizingIwasthere.
Sheletmeremoveherhoodielikeatiredchildbeingundressedforbed.Sheworeatanktopunderneath,andItookoffmyflannelanddrapeditoverhershoulders.ThenItookawarmwashclothanddabbedatherwoundswhileshesatthere,dazed.
Shewouldn’tanswermyquestions,soIworkedinsilence.Itwasacoupleofminutesbeforeshesaidanythingtome.“Ihavenothing,”shesaidquietly.
MyhandstilledandIlookedupather.Shestaredoutblanklyintotheroom.“Ihavenothingtoshowforanything.Idon’tevenhaveaplacetolive.”
Fuck.SoitwasasbadasJessasaid.
Icouldn’timaginesufferingthroughallthisworktoendupempty-handedintheend,withouteventhemoneytoconsoleme.
Nowondershe’dtriedtoclimbontomytour.
Tourswerewhereyoumadethemoney.AndErniewasright,shewasn’tcapableofherown.Hell,Iwasbarelycapableofit,andIhadmyshittogether.Therewasnowayherlabelwouldmakeatourinvestmentforherinhercondition.Butlatchingontome?Thatwaseasy.Threeduetsonmysetandshewasdoneforthenight.Andifshebailed,theshowwenton.
Itwastheperfectsolutiontoherproblem.Itwasprobablytheonlysolution.Whatotherchoicedidshehave?Shecouldn’tevenquietlyslipintoobscurity,getajobdoingsomethingelse.ShewasLolafuckingSimone.
“Haveyoueatentoday?”Iasked.
Sheshookherhead.
“Okay,”Isaid.“Whydon’twegetyouintobedandordersomelunch.”
ShestudiedmewiththosefracturedgreeneyesIbarelyrecognized,likeabeatendog,bracingtoflinch.
Istoodandputmyhandouttoher.“Readytogo?”
Shelookedatmyoutstretchedpalm,mysmallwhiteflag,andherchinquivered.Thenshefoldedover,putherfaceintoherkneesandcried.
Isatnexttoherandwrappedanarmaroundher.“Hey,it’sgoingtobeokay,”Iwhispered.“Youjuststartoveragain.Startnow.”
ShesobbeduncontrollablyandIsatthere,holdingheronthecoldtile.
JessacamebackinwithacoffeeandawaterandsatontheothersideofLolauntilshecalmeddown.
“Lola,lookatme.”Iwaiteduntilherglassyeyesheldmine.“IwilldowhateverIhavetodotohelpyou.Doyouunderstand?Ifwecangetyouintorehab,willyougo?”
Shepausedalongmomentbeforeshenoddedatthefloor.Thensheblinkedupatmewithweteyes.“Youcan’ttellthemwhereIam.They’llsendcameras.Willyoutakeme?”Thequestionwassochildlikeitmademyheartconstrict.
“OfcourseI’lltakeyou.AndIwon’tletthemknowwhereyouare.Ipromise.”
IorderedherasandwichandsatwithherwhilesheateitwrappedinablanketwhileJessamadeacalltoaprivaterehabcentersherecommended.
TherewasstillnowordfromSloan.Courtneycamebackempty-handed.Sloanwasn’tattheairportandwewereallstillgoingtovoicemail.
IgotmyclippersandbuzzedtherestofLola’sheadforher.ThenIhandedherofftoJessaandCourtneysotheycouldcleanherupbeforeweleftfortherehab,andIwentbacktomyroom.
AssoonasIsatonmybed,someoneknockedonthedoor.Irantoopenitwithoutcheckingthepeephole.
SloanstoodinthehallwaywithTucker.
Igrabbedherinmyarmsanddraggedherinsidewithoutaword.ThesecondIhadher,Iwasinstantlywholeagain.
“I’msorry,”shesaid,crying.“IwassoupsetandIdidn’tknowwhattodoandthenIthoughtaboutitandIknewyou’dnevercheatonme…”
MyfingersrakedintoherhairandIclutchedhertomychest.IfeltlikeIwascollapsingatafinishline.Tuckerwhinedandcried,jumpingatmylegs.Iputmyforeheadtoherswithmyeyesclosed.“Sloan…”
“IdrovehalfwaytoKristen’sandthenIdrovebackbecauseIknewyouhadtohaveanexplanation.I’msorry,Jason,Ishouldhavetrustedyou.”
“Youdidn’tfinishyourpainting,”Iwhispered.
Sheshookherhead.“I’mnotgoingto.I’mstayingtobewithyou.”
EverybreathItookofher,Iheld.Ibrokeawaytolookather.Herrednose,herpuffyeyes.ThemostbeautifulwomanI’deverseen.ThewomanIwassupposedtomarrybutnevergotthechancetoaskbecausemyjobhadrobbedusofromanticeveningsandperfectmomentsandfinallyalifeworthsharing.Mysoulmate
AndsomeoneIneededtoletgo.
ItwasgoingtotakeeverythingIhadinmetodoit.ButIwoulddoit.Thepriceforbeingwithmehadofficiallybecometoohigh.
Shewasn’tsafe.Iknewthatnow.Itwouldonlybeamatteroftimebeforetheytriedtoseparateusagain.Therewasnotellinghowthey’ddoit,andIcouldn’tprotecther.Maybenexttimetheirwarningwouldbeaviolentone.They’dbreakherhandandshe’dneverpaintagain.
Thiswasn’tsomederangedfanthatafewarmedbodyguardsandahouseinacompoundcouldtakecareof.Thethreatcamefromwithin.TheyknewwhereIwasatalltimes—whereSloanwas.Theyhadaccesstous.Itcouldbearoadietheypaidoff.Thepersonwhocleanedourhotelroom,anyone.AndthemorefamousIgot,thebiggertheincentivetodoit.Therewasn’tevenanyoneIcouldconfrontaboutit.Whowasthefacebehindthis?Iwouldneverknow.
Andthiswasn’talife.
Allthesacrificeswerehers.
Thiswasn’twhatI’dpromisedheranditneverwouldbe.We’dneverhaveahousenearKristenandJoshbecausewe’djustbetransients,livinginabus.We’dneverraiseourkidswiththeirs.We’dneverhaveanythingnormal.
Iwantedhertohaveeverything.Iwantedhertobeabletocookandupdateherblog,sleepinthesamebedformorethantwonightsinarow.IwantedhertobethegreatartistIknewshewas,tohavechildrenshewouldn’thavetoraisealoneortakeontheroadforthemtoknowtheirfather.Shedeserveditallandmore.
AndIcouldnevergiveittoher.
Iknewshe’dneverleaveme.Herstandingtherewasproofofit.She’dabandonedherpainting,half-finished,tobeheresoIcouldkeepdraggingheraroundthecountrylikeluggage.AndifIleveledwithher,toldherthetruthaboutthedangershewasin,she’djustsaytheydidn’tscareherandshewouldn’tletthemrunheroff.
Iwasnothingbutanindenturedservant.I’dnevergetaway.ButIwouldn’tcondemnhertoonemoredangerousminuteofit.
Itookonefinalbreathin,letitout,andbegan.“Sloan,weneedtotalk.”
Sheblinkedupatmewithtearyeyes.ThosebeautifuleyesIwouldn’tseeagainaftertoday.
MyheartheldthelieIwasabouttotelllikeashotofpoisonIwasbracedtodrink.ButifIdidn’tdoitthisway,she’dneveracceptit.She’dnevermoveon.Shewastoosentimental.Itwasgoingtobecruel,butithadtobesomethingfinal.Somethinghorrible.
Somethingshe’dneverforgive.
“What?”sheasked.“Jason,what?What’swrong?”
“Sloan,I’msorry.”
“Sorryforwha…”
Ididn’thavetosayit.Understandingflickeredacrossherface.
Shetookastepback,droppingherhandsawayfromme,andIregisteredbrieflythatthatwasthelasttimeshe’devertouchme.
“You…”Hervoicewasshaking.“Youactuallysleptwithher?”shewhispered.
Idraggedahanddownmymouth.“Ididn’tplanwhathappenedlastnightwithLola.Itjusthappened.”
IknewIwouldneverforgetthatlookonherface.Never.NotifIlivedtobeahundred.Itwasthemomentaftershatteredglass.Thetinnybuzzinyourearsafteraloudnoise.Aplungeintoglacialwaters,frozen,unabletobreathe.
Ilookedherintheeye.“Sloan,thiswasn’tgoingtoworkoutbetweenus.Ithinkwebothknewthat.Ineedtobesingle,I’mnotinanypositiontobeaboyfriendrightnow.”
SheputatremblinghandtohermouthandIwantedtoshoutthatitwasalie.Iwantedtoclosethedistancebetweenusandkissher,tellheritwasbullshit,beghertoforgivemefornotbeingwhatsheneeded,fornotbeingabletoprotecther.InsteadIpickedupthehotelphoneanddialedZane.
ImarveledathowcalmIwas.Howcollectedandmatter-of-fact.
“Zane?Ifoundher.She’shere.Canyoucomedownhere,please?”
Sloanhadbackeduptothewall.Shewasstaringatme,unblinking.Tearswerestreamingdownherface.Tuckerlookedupatmeandmadeawhiningnoiselikehewascryingwithher.
“I’mgoingtohaveZanetakeyoutotheairport,”Isaid,tuckingthephoneinmypocket.“I’llbuyyourticket.Erniewillpickyouup.Oh,”Isaid,likeI’djustrememberedsomething.“AndcanyoukeepTucker?Idon’thavetimeforhim.”
He’dtakecareofher.Shewouldn’tbealone.
Igaveherthelastofmyhearttotakewithher.
Shestaredatmeinhorror.“How…howcouldyoudoit?”
ButIdidn’thavetoanswer.ZaneknockedonthedoorandIletherin.
Shesteppedinsideandlookedbackandforthbetweenthetwoofusinconfusion.Sloancrying.Mestoicanddyinginside.
“IneedyoutogetSloantotheairport,”Isaid.“Afirst-classflighttoBurbank.Getyourselfaticketsoyoucanwaitwithheratthegate.”
IfeltZane’sdisapprovingglare,butIdidn’tpullmyeyesfromSloantoseeit.ThiswasthelasttimeI’dlookather,andIdidn’twanttoturnaway,eventhoughthestareshegavemewaspurehatred.
SloanletZanetakeherarmandallowedherselftobeledaway.
Thedoorclosedafterthem,andIfelltomykneesasmyworldshrankaroundme,suffocatingme,theedgesturningblack.
***
Anhourlater,withLoladressedinmyflannelandoneofJessa’shatssothecameraswaitingoutsidethehotelwouldn’tseewhatshe’ddonetoherhair,IclimbedontoLola’smotorcyclewithhersittingbehindme,andIdrovehertoarehabfacilityanhouraway.
IcouldhavetakenanUber.IcouldhavecalledablackcarorhadZanedriveus.ButIneededsomethingthatcouldoutrunthepaparazzisotheywouldn’tknowwhereshewent.IdiditknowingthatSloanwouldseethisinthetabloidsanditwouldaddafinalblowtothealready-mortalwoundI’dinflicted.
IrememberedthefearinhereyesthatdayinDad’sgarageandhowI’dvowednevertogetonanothermotorcycle.
Thelastofmypromises,broken.
IcheckedLolaintoaprivateroom,gavetherehabfacilitymycreditcard,andhadErniesendthemanNDA.ThenIstoppedforanewphone,andwhenIgotbacktothehotel,IblockedSloan’snumberanddeletedit.Erasedallhermessages,allherpictures.Deletedheronsocialmedia.Alltraces.Iwouldn’tknowwhereshelivednoworhaveaone-clickwaytoreachouttoherincaseIhadamomentofweakness.
Andthen,withthefinalthreadbetweenussevered,Ilostmyfuckingmind.
Idestroyedmyroom.Ithrewalamp,pushedoveratable,andpunchedaholeinthewall.ThenIgotdrunk.Blindingly,sloppydrunk.
WhenZaneshowedupagain,comingintomyfoglikeanapparition,Isatwithmybackagainsttheclosetofmytrashedhotelroom,holdinganemptybottle,withawashclothwrappedaroundmybleedingknuckles.
Shecroucheddownandpeeledawaytheblood-soakedtowelandIwatchedherdispassionately.Sheshookherheadatmeinthatunfazedwayshehad.“Well,thislooksprettybad.Let’sgo.Hospitaltime.”
WhenthedoctorcameintotheERwithhisclipboard,Icouldn’tevenrememberhowZanehadgottenmethere.
ThedoctorpulledupanX-rayofmyhandonthemonitor,andIstaredatit,blearyandshattered,fromtheedgeofthepaper-coveredexamtable,thesmellofrubbingalcoholstingingmynostrils.“Well,it’snotbroken.Prettybruised,butnotbroken.Iceit,takesomeibuprofen,andyoushouldbeabletouseitinafewdays.”
ButZaneshookherhead.“Naw,Doc.Itlooksbrokentome.Heprobablyneedsatleastacoupleweekstorestupthathand.I’mthinkin’severeexhaustionanddehydrationtoo.Maybesomeotherstuffyoujustmissed.”Shenoddedathisclipboard.“We’llneedamedicalreport.Somethingtoshowhisrecordlabelsincehe’llhavetocancelsometourdates.”
Thedoctorlookedatherandtheysharedsomesortofsilentexchange.Heglancedatme,andhemusthaveseenthewearonmyface,thedespairbehindmyeyes.Thecrevasseacrossmyheart.
“Youknow,you’reright.Theredoesseemtobeabreakthere,alongtheproximalphalanx.FunnyIdidn’tnoticeitbefore.I’lluh,writesomethingup.”
Zanepackedmythings.Shemadeallthenecessaryphonecallsandhadalltheneededconversations.Myintoxicationmovedintoahangover,andthenintogrievingasIprocessedwhatI’dlost.AndIvowedtofeeleveryfuckingsecondofit.
Theplaneridewastorture.Justmeandmythoughtsandahangover.Icouldn’tevenputinmyearbuds.Musicchippedawayatmysoul,everysongabouther.Everylyrichauntedme.Thesmellofcoffeeonthedrinkcartmadetearssqueezefrommyeyes.
WhenIlanded,Erniecalled.Iansweredwithoutsayinghello.
Heblewadeepbreathintothephone.“Girlfriendsontour…”
Ilaughedalittle,despitemyself.“Itmustbehardtoalwaysberight.”
“Thisisonetime,myfriend,thatIreallywishIhadbeenwrong.”
TheridefromDuluthtoElywithDadwastheworstofall.Longandquiet,tensewithjudgment.Whenhepulledintothegarage,heputthetruckinpark,buthedidn’tgetout.Heheldthewheelandlookedoveratmybandagedhand,hiseyessad.
“I’msorry,Dad,”Isaidwithmyforeheadinmypalm.
Helookedatme,thepityonhisface.Andsomethingelse.
Loss.
Helostadaughter.I’dlostherforeveryone.
Myguiltandgrieftripled,crushingme.Icouldn’tlookathim.Icouldn’tlookatanyone.HowwouldIfaceMom?Sloanwasamemberofthisfamilynow,andI’drippedherfromtheirlives.Iputahandovermyfaceandfeltthewaveofnauseaandsorrowsurgeagain.
OnceIgotinside,Sloanwaseverywhereandnowheretobeseen.Ifeltherineveryinchofthathouse.Shewasgrocerylistsinthekitchen,tinycreamersinthefridge,andastrayblondhaironthecouch.ShewasanabandonedshampoointheshowerandpolishonMom’snails.
ThesadnessinMom’seyes.
Theabsenceswallowedmewholeandleftnothingbehindbutemergingchordsandpainfullyricsthatbubbledfromacrackinmyheartsodeepitwasfathomless
Icouldn’tstaythere.Icouldn’tbeanywhere.SoIwentwhereIwouldbenowhere.
IslippedintothemouthofthewildernesswithmycanoeandmyguitarandIabandonedtheworld,thatworldwithoutSloan,behindme.Chapter41
Sloan
?It’sNotLiving(IfIt’sNotWithYou)|The1975
Threemonthslater
Doyouwantmetomeetyouatthecemetery,Sloan?”
Kristenwasworriedaboutme.
“No,I’mnotgoingtoday,”Isaid,sittingbacktotakeonefinallookatthepaintingthathadbeendryingforthelasttwoweeksonmyeasel.
Igaveitasoftsmile.Itwasbeautiful.Itlookedlikeaphotograph.
ItwasthefifthoneI’dfinishedoverthelastthreemonths.Anotheradditiontothecollectioninthegallerythathadpickedmeup.I’dcompletedthecommissionI’dstartedinEly,thelittlegirlontheswing,andshippedthattwomonthsago.Threemorehadsold,andthisoneinfrontofmewasleavingtoday.
“You’renotgoingtothecemetery?”sheasked.“It’stheanniversaryofthedayyoumetBrandon.”
Ipickeduptheremotetoturnoffmycrimeshow.“Howdoyourememberthisstuff?”
“Ihaveremindersinmyphone.”
Ilaughed,collectingmybrushes.“Areyouserious?”
“Uh,yeah,I’mserious.Ihavetowatchyoulikeahawk.”
Islidoffmystool.“I’mfine.I’mjustfinishingupsomeworkbeforethething.”
“Areyousureyou’reupforthis?Imeanthedude’shotasfuck,butwecanskipthisdoubledate.It’snotabigdeal.”
Josh’scousinAdrianwasintownfromSt.Paul.Hewasalawyer,single,and,accordingtoKristen,theperfectreboundforme.Helivedoutofstateandwasonlyhereforafewdays.Ithinkshethoughtitwouldbedistractingorboostmyshatteredself-esteemorsomething.
“Idon’tknowwhatyouexpectmetodowithhim,”Isaid.“Idon’tevenkissonthefirstdate.”
“Youneedsomeoneprescreenedtotellyouyou’reprettyandhandyoufreedrinks.Andhe’sgotallthethingsyoulike.He’stall,he’sbearded,andhe’sfromMinnesota.”
Irolledmyeyes.“Haha.”
“Seriously,Sloan,wecancallitoffifweneedto.Imean,he’sexcitedtomeetyoubutJoshcanjusttakehimoutinstead.IfiguredyoumightneedtohitsomethingwithabattodaysoImadeapi?atafullofminialcoholbottlesandStarbucksgiftcards.Icouldbethereinahalfanhour.”
Irinsedmybrushesinthesink.“Nope,”Isaid,tappingthewateroffthem.“I’mfine.It’llbefun.”
Itwouldnotbefun.
“Lookatitthisway,”Kristensaid.“Ifyouguyshititoff,you’llendupaCopeland.Thenourkidswouldberelated.And,whatifJosh’senormouspenisishereditary?I’mjustsayin’.”
Isnorted.“God,IdonotwanttothinkaboutJosh’spenis,thankyouverymuch.”
Therewasapauseontheotherend.“You’resureyou’reokay?”
Inodded.“Ireallyamfine.I’llvisitBrandononhisbirthdayfromnowon,andthat’sit.It’stimeIstoplivingmylifeinthepast.It’swhathe’dwant.”
Anotherpause.“Andtheotherthinggoingontoday?”
Itookadeepbreath.“It’stimeImoveonfromthattoo.”
Jasonwasintown.HewasplayingtheForuminLAtonight.
Iforbademyeyelidtostarttwitchingtoday.
Thisdayhadloomedinfrontofmelikeanimpendinginvasion.JasonhadbeenintheUKforthelastfewmonths,asfarawayfrommeashumanlypossible.Andnowhewasgoingtobelessthananhourfrommyloft.
I’ddebatedseveraloptionsfordealingwiththisevent.AsleepoveratKristen’s.Atriptoliterallyanywhereaslongasitwasfarenoughtoputacouplehundredmilesbetweenusagain.ButwhenAdriandecidedtovisit,fromMinnesotanoless,andKristenhadsuggestedthisdoubledate,ithadseemedliketheuniversewassendingmeamessage.SoIagreedtoit,andIhadaboutasmuchenthusiasmforthisoutingasIdidforgoingdowntocheckthemail.
“Okay,”Kristensaid.“Well,we’llbethereinahalfanhourtogetyou.Whatareyouwearing?Youbettermakeaneffort.I’mgonnabepissedifItalkedyouupforthelastthreedaysandthenyoushowuplookinghalf-homeless.”
“I’mwearingthereddress.Ihavemakeupon.I’vedonemyhair.Iwon’tbringshameuponyourhouse.”
“Good.Don’twearunderwear.Goodbye.”
Isnortedandhungup,shakingmyheadattheVerdugoMountainsthroughthewindowinmylivingroom.
Mynewapartmentwasnice.Ithadapoolandahottub,andIhadmyownwasheranddryer.Itwasnewlyremodeledtoo.Ididn’thavethingsbreakingallaroundme,whichwasapleasantchange.TherewasadogparknearbyandaStarbucksonthecorner.
Iwasdoingokay.Iwenttothegym,Igotmynailsdone.Iwastan.ItookTuckeronwalksandwenttoartshowsandhadJoshandKristenoverfordinneronceaweek—andIdidthecooking.Ididallofthethings—andIwasproudofmyself.
I’dnevergonetogriefcounselingafterBrandondied.Kristenhadbeggedmetogo,butIhadnointerestinlearninghowtobeokaywithouthim.Ididn’twanttotalkabouthisdeathorshareitwithstrangers.Ididn’tneedtobondwithotherpeoplegoingthroughittoknowIwasn’talone.Peoplediedeveryday,unfairlyandprematurely.Mytragedywasn’tanythingspecial.IjustwantedBrandon’sholdtoletmegowhenitwasreadytoletmego.Iwantedtofeelthatgriefinitsmostorganicway,liketryingtotaketheedgeoffitwouldsomehowbedishonoringwhathemeanttome.Butsomewherealongtheline,ithadletmego,andIhadn’tnoticedbecausethetiredlistlessnessthatcomeswithgriefhadshiftedintothekindthatcomesfromlosingyourselfthroughdepressinglifechoices—andIwasn’trepeatingthatmistake.
IwantedJason’sholdtoletmego.Iwasdesperatetoshakeit.IwantedtodoeverythingIcouldtomakeitstop—becausehedidn’tdeserveanygrief.
I’dallowedmyselfexactlyoneweekoffallingapartatKristen’sbeforeIpulledmyselfupthroughsheerwill,foundmyselfanapartment,andstartedpainting.Islept.Iupdatedmyblog.Ididyoga.IdecoratedmyapartmentanddidthingsIloved—andIchosehappiness.
Therewasacertaindullnesstoit,though.My“happiness”wasn’talwaystherealthing.Mostofthetimeitwasafabricated,forcedversionthatcrackedaroundtheedgesifexaminedcloselyenough.Butitwasthechoicethatwastheaccomplishment.I’dfinallyfoundthemeI’dlostbefore.Iwasstrong—heartbroken,butstrongerthanI’devergivenmyselfcreditfor.Especiallyunderthecircumstances.
Itwashardtocometotermswithsomethingthatdidn’tmakesense,likeatragicuntimelydeathorabreakupthatcameoutofnowhere.Howcanyoubeatpeacewhenyoudon’tknowwhatyoudidtodeserveitorwhatyoucouldhavedonetomakethingsdifferent?Icouldn’twrapmybrainaroundhowI’dmisjudgedJasontosuchahighdegree,howIcouldthinkhewasthatinlovewithme,whenclearlyhewasn’t.Itmademequestionmyentiresenseofself.Likefindingoutyourheroisn’taheroatallandyou’rejusttooblindtoknowthedifference.
Rightafterithappened,I’dhadamomentofdisbelief.EventhoughI’dseenLolahalf-nakedinhisroomwithmyowneyesandhe’dconfessedrighttomyface,myheartsimplywouldn’tacceptit,andI’dalmostcalledhim.ThenIsawthepictureofhimwithheronthemotorcycle.
Jasonhadbrokeneverysinglepromisehe’devermademe.Thatwashischoice.Andminewasgoingtobetothrivedespiteit.
Youcan’tcontrolthebadthingsthathappentoyou.Allyoucandoisdecidehowmuchofyouyou’regoingtoletthemtake.IwouldbefoolingmyselfifIsaidIdidn’tstilllovehim.IthinkI’dalwaysbeinlovewithhim.ButIrefusedtomournhimorgivehimashrine.
EveryonearoundmeknewtalkingaboutJasonwasoff-limits.Nooneevermentionedwhathewasdoing.NotevenErnie,duringhismanyvisitstocheckinonme.Butafewweeksago,curiosityhadgottenthebetterofmeandIgoogledhim.
IwishedIhadn’tlooked.
ApparentlyJasonhadgonefullrockstarsinceourbreakup.He’dtrashedahotelroom—kickedinabathroomdoorandeverything.Thenhe’dhurthishandsomehow.Thetabloidssaidafistfightwitharoadie.Jason’screwlovedhim,soIdoubtedit.Butthearticlealsosaidhe’dbrokenafogmachineinarageandErniehadaccidentlyconfirmeditwhenIoverheardaphonecallwithJason’stourmanager,sowhoknewwhoJasonwasthesedays.He’dendedupcancelingthreeweeksofconcertsduetoexhaustionanddehydration,andtherewasspeculationthathewasabusingdrugsandalcohol.I’dseenhimpassedoutmyself,andconcertsdidn’tgetcanceledunlesstherewasalegitimatemedicalemergency,soIdidn’tknowwhattobelieve.
Iwasworriedabouthim,soI’daskedErnie.TheonlytimeI’deveraskedhimaboutJason.ErnietoldmetolethimworryaboutJasonandtojusttakecareofmyself.Judgingbyhowevasivehewas,itwasprettyclearthatatleastsomeofwhatI’dreadwastrue.
AndtheLola/Jaxonrumorswerebackinthetabloidsinfullforce—onlythose,Iknewforsure,weren’trumors.
Thewholethingmademesick.Iwantedtobleachherfrommybrain.Icouldn’tforgetherstandingthereinthatdoorwayinherunderwear,sosmug.Andtheuniversewouldn’tletmeforgetiteither.Hermusic,hismusic,constantlypoppingupinthegrocerystoreandthegym.I’dstartedwearingearbudseverywhere,justsoIwouldn’tberandomlyaccostedbyit.
Itwasthemostpeculiarformoftorture.
JasonwascapableofthingsInevercouldhaveimagined.HewassomeoneIdidn’tevenrecognizenow.MaybehefinallybecameJaxon.
ThepaintingthatIwasgoingtodelivertothegallerytodayhadbeentherapeutic.ProofthatthesixmonthsI’dspentwithhimhadbeenreal.Atleastatthetime.
Atleastforme
ButitwastimeIridmyselfofthevisibleremindersofthemanIlost.Ihadenoughinvisibleonestodealwith.
I’ddropoffthatpaintingandthenI’dgoonmyfirstdatesincemybreakup.KristenandJoshwouldbetheretocarrytheconversationwhenthisguyboredme,whichheprobablywould.
AndI’dgetthroughit—Ihadto.BecauseIchosehappiness.
Iwrappedthepaintinginbrownpaper,leashedTucker,andwentdownstairstodropitoffandtakethedogforawalk.
Twentyminuteslater,wewerecomingbackuptomydoorwhenIsawacourierstandingoutsidewaitingforme.“Areyou”—helookedathisdevice—“SloanMonroe?”
IwrappedTucker’sleasharoundmyhand.“Yes…”
“Ihaveapackageforyou.Youneedtosign.”
“Apackage?”Iscribbledmynameonthedigitalscreen.Iwasn’texpectinganything.Kristenmaybe?
Itooktheflatwhiteenvelopeandletmyselfintomyapartment,examiningtheoutside.Therewasnonameonit.
Kristen.Shewasalwayssendingmesomethingcrazy.Lastweekshe’dmailedmeacrochetedtissueholderthatlookedlikeavagina.Shewassoweird.
Idroppedmykeysonthecredenzaandsatonthesofatoopenit.Tuckerstoodinfrontofme,tailwagginglikethereweredogtreatsinsideit.“Maybeit’ssomethingforyou,huh?”IgrinnedathimasIpulledoutthecontents.
Andthenmysmilefell.
Iknewthehandwritingonthepaperinstantly,evenbeforeIreadaword.
AhardlumpbuiltinmythroatasIscrolledthroughtheletter.
Ireachedbackintotheenvelopeandashakinghandpulledouttherealreasonforthedelivery.
Twofront-row,VIPticketstoaJaxonWatersconcertat7:00tonight.Chapter42
Sloan
?freshbruises|BringMetheHorizon
IreadtheletterZanehadsentmeahundredtimes.Staredatthosefourwordsatthetopofthepageuntiltheyweresearedbehindmyeyelids.JasonliedaboutLola.
ZaneandCourtneywereclose.
TheletterwentontoexplainthatCourtneyhadtoldZaneshehadbeentherethenightLolashowedup.ThatJasonhadneverbeenalonewithLolaexceptforthefewsecondswhenshe’dwalkedthroughhisroomtoanswerthedoorforme.JasonhadtakenasleepingpillandhadnoideaLolahadevenbeenthereuntilhewokeup.
ThenZanesaidthatLolahadabreakdownandhurtherself,andJasonwasonlyonthatmotorcycletotakehertorehab.ShetoldmenothinginthetabloidswastrueandthatJasonhadtoldErnieexplicitlytoletmebelieveitifIasked.
Zanewouldn’tlie.ShewasthemostbrutallyhonestpersonIknew.AndifJasonknewshe’ddonethiswithouthispermission,he’dfireher.Shewasriskingherjobtosendmethatmessage.
Icouldn’tbreathe.
Why?Whywouldhemakethatup?Whywouldhesaysomethingsohorribletomeandwantmetothinksomanyawfulthingsabouthim?
Iimmediatelycalledhim.Thefirsttimeinthreemonths.Itwentstraighttovoicemail.
Jasonhadnever,intheentiresixmonthsI’dknownhim,hadhisphoneoff.Ringerdown,yes.Phoneoff,no.
Mynumberwasblocked.
SoJasondidn’twanttotalktome.Hedidn’twantmecallinghim.Hewashere,inLA,andhehadn’tcomelookingforme.Andhe’dneveroncereachedouttomeinthelastthreemonths.SowhywasZanetryingtogetmetogooverthere?Heclearlydidn’twanttobeinarelationshipwithmeifhe’dfabricateastorylikethisjusttogetoutofit.He’dgonetoextremestomakesureitwasoverbetweenus.
AndnowIwasangry.
Whenhe’dfirstdonewhathedid,Iwasdevastated.Then,whenIsawthepictureswithLola,I’dbeenhurtanddisappointed.I’dspentthelastfewmonthsinvariousstatesofnumbconfusion.ButnowthatIknewthathe’dliedtome,Iwasfurious
Sohe’dwantedtobreakupandhe’dthoughtdestroyingmewouldbetheeasiestwaytodoit?
IcalledZane.Ithoughtitwasgoingtovoicemail,itrangsolongbeforeshepickedup.“Hey,what’sup?”shewhispered.
Jasonmustbethere.
Therewassomethingheartwrenchingaboutknowinghemightbejustontheotherendofthatline.MaybeI’devenhearhim.Mykneessuddenlyfeltweak.Ihatedthathestillhadthateffectonme,thatIstilllovedhimtostupidity.
“Whywouldyousendmethat,Zane?Heobviouslydoesn’twanttoseeme.”
“Just…canyougivemeonesecond?Justholdon.”
Iheardshuffling.Thenafewmomentslatershecameback.“Areyoucoming?”sheasked,hervoicelow.
“No.Hedoesn’twantmethere.”
“Yeshedoes,”shesaid.“He’sfuckedup,Sloan.”
Ilaughed,incredulous.“He’sfuckedup?Heliedaboutsleepingwithanotherwomanandthenheputmeonaplaneandneverspoketomeagain.”
Hervoicewentlower.“Look.Justcome.Idon’tknowwhatthefuckhisproblemis.AllIknowisJasonlovesyou.”
Ishookmyhead.“IthinkJasonlovedmeonce,Zane.Buthe’sJaxonnow.”
Ihunguponher.
Myeyelidboundedintoafull-scaleattack.Ipacedinmylivingroomwithapalmtomyeye,breathinghard.
Why?Why,Jason?Ithoughtaboutthoselastfewdaysandwhatmighthavemadehimdoit.He’dsaidhefeltlikehewasruiningmylife—sotofixithe’druinedmylife?Iscoffed.
MaybeIwastoomuchmaintenance.MaybethoseweeksI’dbeeninElyhadshownhimhowmuchtakingcareofmeontheroadhadtakenatollonhim.Maybehe’dfiguredthatIwasunhappyanywayandhedidn’thavetheenergyforitandlettingmebelievewhatIsawwasawin-win.Hedidsayhewasn’tinaplacetobeaboyfriend.Iguesshethoughthewasdoingmesomekindoffavor.
TheonlythingIknewforsurewasthis:Hedidn’tloveme.Amanwholovedmewouldn’tdothis.Hewouldn’tlightamatchandsetmyworldonfire.
Myphonerang.ItwasKristen,probablycallingtotellmetheywereoutside.Ipickedupandshestartedtalkingimmediately.“Okay,don’tbemad.”
“OhGod,what?”Ibreathed.Icouldn’tdealwithKristen’sshenanigansrightnow.Icouldn’tdealwithanything.Ididn’twanttogoanymore,Ididn’twanttostay.God,Ihatedmylife.
“Adrian’sonhiswayuptherealonetogetyouhimself.”
Igroaned.“Areyoukiddingme?”
“Everyonewasgettingoutofthecartocomeupandhewasalllike,‘Stayhere,’inthisreallydeep,veryauthoritativevoice.Itwasasuperalphamalemove.EvenJoshfrozeup.”
IcouldhearJoshlaughinginthebackground.
Someoneknockedonmydoor.
“I’mgoingtokillyouguys,”Ihissed,hanginguponher.
Islumpedinthemiddleofmylivingroomwithpalmstomyeyeballs.HowwasIgoingtogetthroughtonight?Icouldn’tdothis.
Myhandswereshaking.Notbecausemyblinddatewasstandingoutside,butbecauseofJason.Itookadeepbreathandtriedtosteadymyself.
Adrianknockedagain.Thatplayful,musicalknockthatfriendsdowhentheycomeover.
“Holdon,onesecond,”Icalled,hearingthetremblinginmyvoice.
Itookanotherdeepbreath.IshovedtheenvelopewiththeticketsandZane’sletterintomypurseandsmootheddownmydress,tookonemoremomenttocomposemyself,andthenIopenedthedoor.
Themanstandinginmyhallwayworeadark-greenV-necksweaterwiththesleevesrolledupandjeans.Hewasholdingapi?atashapedlikeacupcake.“Hi,”hesaid,givingmeadazzlingsmile.“I’mAdrian.YoumustbeSloan.”
Well,Kristenwasright.AdrianCopelandwasgorgeous.Greeneyes,close-clippedbeard,anicebody.
Iwas100percentnotinterested.
Heheldoutthepi?ata.“Iwastoldtobringthisup?”hesaid,lookingamused.
Irolledmyeyes.“Ofcourseyouwere,”Imumbled,takingitandsettingitonatableinsidethedoor.
Tuckerspilledoutintothehallway,jumpingexcitedlyonAdrian’slegs.Hecroucheddowntopethim.“Heythere,littleguy.”Hesmiledupatmewhileheruffledmydog.
Hewascheckingmeout.Big-time.Hewasn’teventryingtohideit.Hiseyesdroppeddownmybodyandcamebackupwithagrin.
Afierceblushroaredupmyneck.
TheletterhadmesoflusteredIcouldn’teventhinkstraight.AllIcouldthinkaboutwaswhatZanehadsaid.Iwasn’tintherightheadspacetodealwithwhatI’djustlearned,letalonethisstrangerwhowastryingtodateme,hereinmydoorway,shamelesslyoglingmeandplayingwithmydog—Jason’sdog—Jason,whowashereinmycityandhadn’tcometoseemebecausehebrokeupwithmeanddidn’twantmeanymore.
Myothereyelidtwitchedonce,justtoremindmethattodaycouldstillgetworse.
“I’msorry,”Isaid,reachingforTucker’scollar.“Hegetsreallyexcitedwhenpeoplecomeover.Tucker,let’sgo.”
“It’sfine,”Adriansaid.“Ilikedogs.”HeletTuckerlickhischin.
God.Iwastwosecondsfrommaniacalcackling.
TuckerfinallyfinishedwithhimandranbackintotheapartmentandAdrianstood.
Timetogetthisoverwith.
Igrabbedmypurseandslungitovermyshoulder.ThenIsteppedoutintothehallwayandclosedthedoor.
“I’mgladIhaveyoualoneforaminute,”AdriansaidfrombehindmeasIboltedthelock.“Iactuallywantedtotalktoyoubeforewewentdown.”
“Okay.”Iturnedtohim.
Myeyelidwashavingaseizure.Isqueezeditshutandstoodtherelookingupathimwithoneeye.IwaspositiveIlookedinsane.MyfacewasbrightredandIhadtocrossmyarmsandtuckmyhandsintomyarmpitstokeepthemfromvisiblyshaking.
Buthesmiledatmeanyway.“IheardsomeofKristen’sphonecallwithyouearlier.Iknowyoujustbrokeupwithsomeoneandthisdate’salittlejarringforyou.”
OhGod.Ishookmyhead.“It’snot—”
Heputupahand.“It’sfine.”Hegavemeasmile.“I’monlyintownforafewdaysandI’mjustgratefulfortheopportunitytohavedinnerinLosAngeleswithabeautifulCaliforniawoman—evenifsheisunavailable.Ijustwantedtoletyouknowthatthisisazero-expectationsituation.I’vealreadybeentoldthatifIevensomuchasshakeyourhandtonightwithoutyourexpressconsent,I’llbepunchedintheforehead.”
Isnorted,myfacegoingsoft,andItuckedmyhairbehindmyear.“Joshisreallyprotectiveofme.”
“Itwasn’tJosh.”Hegavemeanarchedeyebrow.“SodoesKristenhithard,or…”
Heactuallymanagedtodrawalaughfromme.
Adriandippedhisheadtolookmeintheeye.“Look,let’sjusthaveagoodtime,”hesaid.“LetmebuyyousomedrinksandseeifIcan’tmakeyouhavesomefun.Deal?”
Hewaitedpatientlyformyreply.Irelaxedalittle.Takingthepressureoffthisdatewasatleastsomething.MyeyelidtookmercyonmeandrelentedandIgavehimaweaksmile.“Okay.”
Henoddedtowardthestairs.“Ladiesfirst.”
Westartedwalking.“Youknow,Ihavetobehonest,”hesaid,holdingthedoortothestairwellforme.“Yourpicturesdon’tdoyoujustice.”
Iscoffed.“Letmeguess,Coachella?”
“Uh,no,actually.”Hejoggeddownthestepsbehindme.“Headgear?”
Ipushedthedoortothesidewalkopen,laughing.
KristenandJoshwereparkedafewfeetaway.Adrianranaheadandopenedmycardoorforme.HeputahandtomybackasIgotin.Ididn’tlikeit.Ididn’tlikeanymantouchingmewhowasn’tJason.
Jasonwouldnevertouchmeagain.
ItwaslikeIcouldfeelhimintheairnowthathewashereinCalifornia.Hewasallaroundme,likethesunonmyface.Itactuallymademepeeroutthewindow,lookingforhim.
Iletoutalongbreath,tryingtoreleasehimfrommymind.
Itdidn’twork.Chapter43
Jason
?SomebodyElse|The1975
Itwasn’thardtofindtheonesthatwereSloan’s.Ijustlookedforthepaintingsthatlookedlikephotographs.
Threehunginthegallery,andtheyallhadsoldsignsonthem,markedbyreddots.Istoodthere,staring,studyingeveryinchoftheartwork,makingoutalmost-invisiblebrushstrokes.
Shetouchedthese.Herhandshadcreatedthem,hereyeshadlookedoneveryinchofcanvas,andthearthadsprungfromherbeautifulmind.
Pridefilledme.Itookadeepbreath.Imissedher.Imissedhereverysecond.
Theclickofheelsonwoodturnedmetotheapproachinggallerycurator,apolishedgray-hairedwomaninglassesandredlipstick.“Youmustbethegentlemanwhocalled.”
Ilookedbackatthepaintings.“Yes.YousaidyouhadaSloanMonroeavailable?”
“It’sintheback.Yourtimingisexcellent.Itwasjustdroppedoff.Thesedon’tstickaroundforlong.”
Myheartswelled.Icouldn’ttakemyeyesfromthewall.“She’sverytalented,”Ibreathed.
IhopedshehadusedthegiftcardI’dgivenhertobuythesuppliestomakethese.Iwantedtobeapartofthis.Iwantedtobeapartofitall.
Itwasn’tover.Itwouldneverbeover.Atleastnotforme.
Ithadbeenninety-fourdayssinceI’dlastseenher,andIwasnothingbutahuskofmyselfnow.Myworldwasdim.Allwasfaded.Andthemoretimethatpassed,thedarkeritgot.Lifewithoutherwasasensorydeprivationofmysoul.
MytourhadbroughtmebacktoCalifornia.I’dbeenbracedforhowharditwouldbetobreathethesameairasher.Lookatthesamesky.Butthenitwashardeverywhere,wasn’tit?
Ihadn’ttoldanyonewhereIwasgoingwhenIleftthehotel.I’dhadtosneakoutaserviceexitbythedumpstersinahatandsunglasses,evadingZanelikeazooanimalthathadescapeditskeeper.SheandErniewouldhaveadvisedagainstit.ButI’dhadtocomeseethese.
I’dtoldErnieifthepaintingsdidn’tsellwithinthefirstweekofgoinguptobuythemforme—withoutSloanknowing,ofcourse.Butthey’dsold.Shewasgifted.Shedidn’tneedaguardianangel.
I’dbeenbusytoo.Besidesthetour,I’dactuallybeenabletowrite.I’dcomposedsixsongsduringmythreeweeksinElywhilemyhandwashealing.Andtheyweregood
Theyweregoodbecausetheywereabouther
Nobodywouldeverhearanyofthem.IfIputtheseonanalbum,Sloanwouldknowtheywereabouther,andIcouldneverletherknowhowdestroyedIwas.Thosesongswerejustforme.
No,thenextnewthingIrecordedwouldbesomepopgarbagewrittenbyahiredgunmylabelpicked.AndIcouldn’tevenmusterupthepassiontogiveashit
Theclickingheelsledmetothebackroomandwhenthewomanwenttoremovethebrownpaperfromthecanvastoshowittome,Iputupahand.“I’lltakeit.Idon’tneedtoseeit.”
Icouldn’tsparetheextraminutesitwouldtaketowrapitbackup.EverysecondIwasherewasplayingwithfire.
Sloanlivedintheloftupstairs.Erniehadtoldme.Hewastheonewho’dtoldmewheretofindherartworktoo.I’daskedhimtotakecareofheronceshewasbackinLA,andhehad.
Healsotoldmeshehatedme.Thatshecouldn’tstandtoevenhearmyname.
I’daccomplishedeverythingI’dsetouttodo.Sheruedthedayshemetme,justlikeI’dneededherto.Andmysuccesswasmygreatestregret.
Ifinishedmypurchase.WithanyluckIcouldsneakbackintomyroomwithoutZaneeverknowingI’dbeengone.IwaswalkingtothedoorwiththepaintingundermyarmwhenIfroze.
KristenandJoshwereparkedinablackHondajustoutsidethegallery.
Idartedbehindasculptureintheentry—andjustintime.
Shecameoutofnowhere,likethesunpeekingthroughtheclouds.IfI’dbeentwosecondsfaster,Iwouldhavecrashedrightintoheronthesidewalk.
Sloan.
Everythingslowed.
Shewasjusttwentyfeetaway.Wewereseparatedbynothingbutasheetofglass.
Myheartwasathumpingbassinmyribcage.
Istaredoutatherfrommyblind.ShelookedevenmorebeautifulthanIremembered.Shehadonareddresswithbright-redlipstick.Herhairwasdownaroundhershoulders,andshewastan.Shelookedhealthy,likeshewastakingcareofherselflikeI’dhopedshewould.
Shewassmilingatsomeonebehindher,outofmylineofsight.Abeaming,radiantsmileliketheonessheusedtogivemewhenI’dsingtoher.
MyheartbrokeathousandtimeseverysecondthatIlookedather.
Iwasgoingtogooutthere.
Ididn’tevenhavecontroloverit.Mybodyhadtakenonsomeinvoluntaryreflexinresponsetohersuddenpresence.Thepullwassostrongitfeltlikemyveryexistencehadjusttippedinherdirectionandeverythingwasslidingtowardher.Itookastep…
Andthensomefuckingguywasopeninghercardoorforherandhelpingherinwithahandonherback.Chapter44
Jason
?IfIGetHigh|NothingButThieves
Idon’tevenknowhowImadeitbacktothevenueinonepiece.
I’dtemptedFatebygoingtothegallery,andFatehadcalledmybluff.Iwasfuckingdestroyed.
Seeingherwithsomebodyelsetorethroughmyheartlikeahotknife.Ittookthewindrightoutofmylungs.
Menhadalwayslookedather,evenwhenIheldherhand.Iwentmadthinkingofsomeoneelsetouchingher.Ofhersmilingattheirjokesorcookingthemdinner.
I’dbeenfollowingtheupdatestoTheHuntsman’sWife.Icheckediteveryday.ItwastheonlydirectlinkIstillhadtoher.She’dstartedpostingregularlywhileshewaslivinginElyandshewascookingthegameDadhadinthefreezer.Butafewweeksagoshe’dpostedarecipeforwildboar.
Daddidn’thuntboar.
Ididn’tthinkmuchofitatthetime.Ithoughtmaybeitwassomethingold,fromwhenBrandonwasstillalive,thatshehadn’tgottenaroundtosharing.ButnowthatIknewshewasdating,mymindwentcrazywonderingifshewasseeingsomeonewhohunted,obsessingaboutwhoshecookedfor,whoshewasspendingtimewith.
Iknewshehadn’tbeenreadytodatewhenshemetme,soI’dhoped,formyownselfishreasons,thatshewouldstaysingleforawhile,thatmaybewehadbeenaspecialcircumstance.Itwastheonlythingthathadkeptmehalfwaysaneallthesemonths.Butshewasn’twaiting.Shewasseeingsomeone.
NobodywouldeverloveherlikeIwould.Shewouldneverfindthesamedevotion,evenifshelookedforalifetime.Iknewthatwitheverycellofmybeing.She’dneverknowaboutit,butitwouldalwaysbethere.Whenshemarriedsomeoneelse,hadchildren,whenshegrewold,Iwouldstillbeoutthereintheworld,cherishingherinsecret.Ifsheeverneededanything,I’dmakesureshehadit.Itwouldbemypenancefortherestofmylifefornotbeingabletodoitinperson.
Threehoursafterthegallery,Iwasinmydressingroom,sittingwithmyheadinmyhands,likeIhadbeenforthelasthour.JessawasonandIhadaboutthirtyminutestoshowtime.I’dgothroughitlikethepuppetIwasnow.Mylabelfinallyhaditsmarionette.EverythingwouldbeanactfromthispointforwardbecauseIhadnothingreallefttogive.Allmyjoyinlifehadbeendrainedoutofme.
Someoneknockedonmydoor.Ididn’tmove.Ididn’tevenlookup.“Yeah?”
“Um,it’sCourtney.CanIcomein?”
Iletoutatiredbreathanddraggedmyselftomyfeettoopenthedoor.
Shestoodtherebitingherlip.“Um,Lola’shere.”
Myfacebrightenedintooneofmyraresmiles.“Really?Where?”
Shethrewathumboverhershoulder.“She’sinJessa’sdressingroom.Shecametoseeyou.Ididn’twanttotellherwhereyourroomwasincase—”
“No,it’sfine.Canyoubringher?”
Shenodded.
Iwasactuallyexcitedtoseeher.Iwantedtoseehowshewasdoing.I’dcalledherafewtimesinrehab.She’dnevercometothephoneorcalledmeback.
Amomentlatersomeoneknockedonmydressingroomdoor.Iopenedit,andwhenIdid,Istoodthere,staring.
ThewomanstandingtherewasnobodyIknew.EvenasIrecognizedher,itstillwasnobodyIknew.Thetransformationwassoshockingitdisarmedmecompletely.
Shesmiled.“Hello.”
Herhairhadgrownoutabit.Itwasbrown,notred.Shewasn’twearinganymakeup,andascatteringoffrecklesIneverknewshehadpepperedhernose.ShehadaredtotebagonhershoulderandsheworeabaggyT-shirt,leggings,andflip-flops.
Shelookedfiveyearsyounger.Shewasn’tarockstarthreemonthsintorehab,shelookedlikeacollegestudentstudyingforfinals.Ababysitterafterthekidshadgonetobed,waitingfortheparentstocomehome.
“Hi,”Ibreathed.“God,youlook…youlookdifferent.”
Shelaughedalittle,suckingherlipstogether.“Canwetalk?Isthatokay?”
“Yeah.Yes.Sure.”Iletherinandclosedthedoorbehindher.ShesatonthecouchandItookthechairacrossfromher.Icouldn’tstopstaring.Ididn’tevenblink.Howwasthisthesamepersonfromallthosemonthsago?Thesamewomanwho’dshownupatmytrailer,threesheetstothewindandstaggeringacrossmyfuckinglawn?
Thegaunt,sharpedgesofhercheekbonesweregone,andsowasthedeathshe’dcarriedbehindhereyesthelasttimeIsawher.
Hercleargreenirisessettledonme.“Thankyouforseeingme.Iwouldn’thaveblamedyouifyoudidn’twantto.”
“No,I’mgladyou’rehere,”Isaid.“Howhaveyoubeen?Youlookgood.”
Herhandwentself-consciouslytoherhead.“Whenitgetsalittlelonger,Icangetextensions.”Shelaughednervously.“IactuallykindalikeitbecauseIdon’tgetrecognized.”
Sheputherhandsintoherlapandstareddownatthemforalongmoment.“Iwantedtoapologizetoyou.AndtoSloan.Iwasmessedupforareallylongtime.Iwasn’tmyselfandI’mnotproudofhowIacted.”
WhenIdidn’trespond,hereyescameuptomine.“Ididn’tknowthatwasyourgirlfriendthatnight.I’dneverseenherbefore,andJessahadsaidSloanwasinMinnesota.Ithoughtitwasyourassistantorsomethingwalkingyourdog.”Sheswallowed.“ThisisthefirsttimeI’vereallybeensoberandstableinalmostthreeyears.Iknowthat’snotanexcuse,but—”
“It’sokay,”Isaid,puttingupahand.“Iacceptyourapology.Ifyouacceptmine.”
Herfacewentsoft.Sheletoutalongbreathasifshe’dbeenholdingit.“I’vebeentalkingtoErnieaboutrepresentingme.Ineedsomeonehonest,youknow?”
Ismiledalittle.“He’sagoodone.”
Shenodded.“Mostofthemaren’t.You’rereallylucky.”
Istudiedherwhilesheseemedtostrugglewithwhattosay.
“I,um…Iwaswonderingifyouwouldeverconsiderlettingmetourwithyou?Imean,itdoesn’thavetobefull-timeoranything,”shesaidquickly.“Maybejustthebiggestvenues?Orholidayspecials?”
Ileanedforwardwithmyelbowsonmyknees.“There’dhavetoberules,”Isaid.“You’dneedtostaysober.”
Hopeflashedacrossherface.Shenodded.
“Stayonyourmedication.Andifyoufalloffthewagon,youexityourself.Youdon’tmakemedoit.”
ShenoddedagainandIsatthere,searchingherfacefortheoldLola.
Ididn’tseeher.
Iputoutahand.
Shelookedatmysmallolivebranch,andherchinquivered.Thenshetookmyhandandshookit.
Iletgoofherandreachedacrossthecoffeetabletopullsometissuesfromthebox.Ihandedthemtoherandsheheldthem,staringdownatthetipsofhertoes,smilingthroughtears.
Isatthere,watchingherinsilence.IfeltlikeIshouldtellherIwasproudofher.Iknewhowharditwastobattleagainstyourself.Towrestleyourdesiresdowneverysingledayofyourlifetodowhatyouknowisbest.ButIdidn’thavethestrengthtotalkaboutit.
Iprobablyneverwould.
Sometimesthehardestplacetoliveistheonein-between.Andsometimesin-betweenisallyou’lleverget.
Shewipedathernose.“Ishouldgo,”shesaidafteramoment,startingtogetup.“Idon’twanttocauseanymoreproblemsforyouwithSloan.”
Ilaughedalittleandsatbackinthechair.“SloanandIbrokeup.Thenightyouleft.”
Sheblinkedatme,perchedontheendofhercushion.“Wasit…becauseofme?”
Ishookmyhead.“No.Notreally.Ijustcouldn’tgiveherthelifeshedeserved.”
Lolasatthere,clutchingthewadsoftissuesI’dhandedher.“I’msorry,Jaxon.Butyouknowit’sprobablyforthebest,right?”
“Ido,”Isaidquietly.
“Thisbusinessisn’tthegreatestforrelationships.”Shelookedawayfrommeforamoment.“Inevertoldyouthisbut…”Hereyescamebacktomine.“WhenImetyou,youkindaremindedmeofsomeone.”Sheshookherhead.“JustsomeoneIusedtoknow.Adancer…”
Shetrailedoffanditwasalongmomentbeforeshecontinued.“Ithinkthat’swhyIwasalwaysdrawntoyou,youknow?”
Iletoutasmalllaughthroughmynose.“Igetit.IfIevermetsomeonewhoremindedmeofSloan…”
I’dprobablynevermeetsomeonewhoremindedmeofSloan.
Ijustwasn’tthatlucky.
Lolawipedathernosewithatissue.Thenshelookedaroundherlikeshe’djustrememberedsomething.Shereacheddownandpickeduphertotebag.“Iforgottotellyou.Ibroughtyousomething.”Shesniffedasshepulledafolderout.“Feelfreetosayno.It’sjustErniementionedthatyou’rehavingahardtimewriting,andIthought…”Shetookadeepbreath.“Here.”Shehandedittome.
“Whatisit?”Iasked,takingit.
Shegaveaone-shouldershrug.“IwrotesomemusicwhenIwasinrehab.”Shelaughedagain.“Iwrotealotofmusic.Youinspiredme,Minnesota.”
Isnorted,despiteitbeingabadjoke.
Iopenedthefolderandlookedatthesheetsinside.
“Ifyousingthem,I’llgetroyalties,”shesaid.“AndIneedthemoney.Iwrotethemjustforyou,andErniesaysthey’regood…”ShetrailedoffwhenIdidn’tlookuptoanswerher.
Myeyesporedovertheverses.Themusicdancedaroundmymindlikelightningbugs.Iflippedthepages,hearingthesongsinmyhead.
Theyweregood.Imean,they’dneedafewtweakshereandtheretomakethemmine,andsomeofthemweren’tfinished,but…theywereamazing
Ilookedupather.“Howmanyarehere?”
“Twenty-two?”
Ialmostchokedonthelaugh.“Twenty-twosongs,”Ibreathed.Ihadtoputahandovermymouth.Itwasalmostthreealbums’worth.
Myfreedom.She’djusthandedmemyfreedom.
“Thankyou,”Iwhispered.
“You’lltakethem?”
Inodded,myeyestearingup.“Yes.Ofcourse.”
“’CauseIknowyouwriteyourownsongsandyou—”
“Lola,itwouldbeanhonortosingthese.”Ilookedherintheeyeandshestaredbackatmealmostshyly.
“MynameisNikki.”
Itiltedmyhead.“What?”
“Myname.It’sNikki.NotLola.Willyoucallmethatfromnowon?”
Ihadtomuscledowntheknotinmythroat.“Yes.Yes,I’llcallyouthat.AndyoucallmeJason.”Ipausedforalongmoment.“It’snicetofinallymeetyou.”
Shesmiled.“It’snicetofinallymeetyoutoo.”
Ilookedbackdownatthemusicinmylapandajabofsorrowovercameme.Ihadmywayoutnow.I’dneedacouplemoresongs,butthatwasnothing.Hell,maybeLolawouldhelpme.Mylabelwouldstaggerthereleases.Probablyoneayearandatourtosupporteach.Butthreemoreyearswasn’tten.
Butitdidn’tmakeanydifferenceformeandSloan.
LolapeeredaroundtheroomlikeshecouldtellIwasbrokenandshedidn’twanttostareatthecracks.“What’sthat?”sheasked,noddingtothepaper-wrappedpaintingIhadproppedagainstthewall.
Iclearedmythroat.“It’sjustsomethingIbought.”
“Oh.CanIseeit?”
Inoddedandshegotup.Whenshepeeledoffthebrownpapertolook,shegasped.“Wow.That’sareallycoolphotoofyou.”
Ilookedupandhadtoclutchahandoverthepunchtomyheart.
Itwasme.
Sloanhadpaintedme
Istoodinthelake,inmywaders.ItwasthatdayinElywhenI’dbeenputtinginthedock.ItwasthemomentrightbeforeI’dkissedher.
Tearsthreatened,andIhadtoputahandonmymouth.
She’dpaintedthisfrommemory.Itwaslikeseeingthemomentthroughhereyes.Thiswashowshehadseenmethatday,smilingandhappy.
I’dbeenhappybecauseshewasthere.
AndI’dneverbethathappyagain.
Shewantedtogetridofit.She’ddroppedthisofftobesoldandthenleftonadate.
ThetearsinmyeyesrolleddownmycheeksandIletthem.
“What’swrong?”Lolaasked.
Ishookmyhead.“Mylifeisamess,”Isaid,talkingtothecanvas.
Shelaughedalittle.“Someonesmartoncetoldmeyoucanstartoveragain.Startnow.”
Butitwastoolateforstartingover.Istillcouldn’tmakeSloansafe.NotunlessthepublicwassuddenlymoreinterestedinbuyingmagazineswithpicturesofmeandherintheminsteadofmeandLola.AndI’ddonemyjobtoowell.Erniesaidshehatedme,thathecouldn’tevenmentionmynamewithoutherfacegoinghard.Shewasdating.Shewasmovingon.
Thedamagehadbeendone.Chapter45
Sloan
?Proof|JaxonWaters
Adrianhadtwohandsbehindhisback.“Pickone.”Hesmiledandhisgreeneyescreasedatthecorners.Weweresittinginasteakhousewaitingonappetizers.
Adrianheldopendoorsforme.Hepulledoutmychairandorderedmeaglassofwinethatheseemedtoknowalotabout.Hewasfunny,charming,andengaging.Intelligent,successful,andattractive.Andhewastryingveryhardtoshowmeagoodtime.
Ittotallywasn’tworking.Icouldn’tstopthinkingaboutZane’sletter.
Adrianwaitedformetopickahand.Ipointedunenthusiasticallytotheleftone.Heputafull-sizebottleofvanillacreameronthetableinfrontofme.Icrackedasmallsmile.We’dstoppedatthegasstationonthewayoverandhe’dcaughtmeputtingafewsingle-servecreamersinmypurse.
“Smooth,”Kristensaidfromacrossthetable.“Butshelikesthelittleones.”
Hesmiled.“Well,Ican’thelpyouthere.”
Kristenkickedmyshinunderthetable.
Adrianwasflirtingwithme.Hard.
AndI.Felt.Nothing.
Ifthecompleteandtotallackofbutterfliesinmystomachwasn’tdepressingenough,Ikeptlookingattheclock.OnehouruntilJason’sshow.IfeltlikeIwasgoingtoburstintotears.Themomentsthathewasintownweretickingdownbeforemyeyes.Runningoutlikesandinanhourglass.Andinsteadofbeingwherehewas,Iwasonadatewithsomeoneamazingwhocouldn’tevenholdmyattentionbecauseIwastoodamagedandinlovewithsomebodyelsetoevenentertainit.
“Excuseme.”Igotup.“Ineedtousetheladies’room.”
Kristen’schairrakedagainstthefloorasshegotuptofollowme.Assoonasthedoorclosedbehindusshepouncedonme.“Damn,thatdudewantstoeatyoualive.Ithinkyoushouldlethim.”
“AndIthinkyouneedtoseethis,”Isaid.Iduginmypurseandpulledouttheletter.Iunfoldedit,handedittoher,andwatchedwithmyarmscrossedasshereadit.
Thelongershelookedatit,thedeeperherfrowngot.“OhmyGod…”Shelookedupatme.“Doyoubelievewhatshesaid?”
Isniffedandnodded.“Shewouldn’tlie.AndtheLolathingneverfeltright.That’swhyIcamebacktohishotelroomthatday.Therewassomethingoffaboutitfromtheverybeginning.Whywouldhelieaboutit,though?”
Shepursedherlips.“Idon’tknow,Sloan.Maybehehadtolietoyoutobreakupwithyou.Imean,youknowhowyouare.”
Inarrowedmyeyesather.“HowamI?”
Sheshrugged.“Youdon’tliketogetridofthingsthataren’tgoodforyou.Youknowthis.Brandon’sstuff,yourshittycar,yourdilapidatedhouse?Youdon’texactlyhaveahistoryofmakingrational,sensiblelifechoices.You’resentimentaltoafault.You’vealwaysbeenthatwayandIbetJasonknewthat.”
Mychinstartedtoshake.
“Maybeheknewyouwouldn’ttakehislogicalreasoningforwhateveritwas,andheneededtodosomethingextra.Becauselet’sbehonest,whathedidwasreallyfuckingextra.”
Ileanedoverthesinkandsnatchedapapertoweloutofthedispenser.“Sowhat’syourtheory,then?”Iasked,blowingmynose.
“Idon’tknow.Butmyguttellsmethatdudefellonasword.IfZaneissayinghe’sallfuckedupandshethinksyoushouldseehim…Idon’tknow.EvenJoshisgivinghimthebenefitofthedoubt,andyouknowJosh.”
Isniffled.“Really?”
“Yeah.Youknowwhathesaidthatreallygotme?”Shecrossedherarms.“WhenIcamebackfromvisitingyouinElyandItoldhimhowinloveJason’sparentswere,hesaidhecouldtellthat’swhatJasoncamefrom.ThatJasonwasaguy,justlikehim,whogrewupinasmalltownseeingtwoparentsridiculouslyinlovewitheachother.GuyslikeJoshandJasondon’tdoshitlikethis.It’snothowtheywereraised.It’snotintheirDNA.Theymateforlife.Theyfallinloveandtheyworshipthegroundthatwomanwalkson.Theydon’tcheatandtheydon’tfuckingleave.IfJasonleft,hehadareason.”
Imoppedatmynose.“Maybethefamefinallychangedhim.”
Shescoffed.“Doyoureallybelievethat?Comeon.”
No,Ididn’tbelievethat.Ididn’tknowwhattobelieve.
“Sowhatarewedoing?”sheasked.“Goingtoseehim?Beatingtheshitoutofthatpi?ata?Double-dating?What?”
Jasondidn’twanttobewithme.Hedidn’twanttoseeme.
Butitdidn’tchangethefactthatIwantedtoseehim
IwasalmostangrierwithmyselfaboutthisthanIwasathimforbreakingmeinhalf.ButIdid.Iwantedtoseehim.
Notupclose.Notone-on-one.Butinacrowd,wherehewouldn’tknowIwasthere?
WhenI’dseenhimforthelasttime,Ihadn’tknownitwasgoingtobethelasttime.IthappenedsofastandIwassoinshock.
Maybeseeinghimagain,onmyterms,wouldgivemeclosure—eventhoughIknewIwasfoolingmyself.Ifanything,itwouldprobablythrustmebacktoweekoneandI’dbeoveratKristen’sbawlingmyeyesoutbytonight,beatingapi?atawithabaseballbat.
ButIhadtogo.IfZane’sletterhadn’tstirredupmyshit,Iwouldhaveheldstrongtoday.IwouldhaveduginandtriedtohavefunwithAdrian,hadafewtoomanydrinkswithKristen,andgottenthroughthenight.ButnowallIwantedwastobewhereIknewJasonwas.Barringmebeingsofarawayitwasimpossibletomakeit,Iwasgoingtoendupthere.ItbecametruethesecondI’dreadwhatZanewrote.
Isniffled.“Iwanttoseehim.”
Sheshrugged.“Okay.Theheartwantswhattheheartwants.Let’sgo.”Shemarchedoutofthebathroom.
“WhataboutAdrian?”Iwhispered,followingher.
“He’llbefine.I’lltellJoshtotakehimtoastripcluborsomething.”Shewalkeduptothetableandtappedherhusband’sshoulder.“Givemethekeys.”
Heduginhispocketandhandedthemtoher.“What’sup?”
“Sloandoesn’tfeelwell.I’mtakinghertoaJaxonWatersconcert.YouguyscangetanUber.Iloveyou.”Shegavehimaswiftpeckonthecheek,hookedmyarminhers,andturnedfortheexit.
IwavedlamelyatAdrianasKristendraggedmethroughtherestaurant.“Ihadareallygoodtime,”Icalled.“Itwasnicemeetingyou.”
Helookedamusedandgavemeawink.
Wehoppedinthecar.“Ifwe’recreepingonhimweneedtohavedisguises,”Kristensaid,puttingthecarinreverseandbackingoutoftheparkingspace.“There’sapartysupplystoreablockdown.We’llgotherefirst.”
Fiveminuteslatershewashandingmeapairof1980sglassesfromaHalloweenclearanceshelf.
Ishookmyhead.“Iamnotwearingthat.”
“Hiscrewknowsyou,right?”shesaid,puttingahandonherhip.“Youwantsomeonerecognizingyouandtellinghimyou’rethere?”
Icrossedmyarms.“No…”
“Thenyou’rewearingthis.You’reeitherblazinginlike,‘I’mhere,bitches,’oryou’regoingdeepundercover.Andifwe’reundercover,wecan’tsitinthefrontrow.We’llhavetoswitchticketswithsomeone.”
Itookadeepbreathandletherslidetheenormousglassesonmyface.
“Youneedtohideyourhairandyourtattoos.Takemysweater,”shesaid,peelingitoffandhandingittome.
Istaredatitinmyhand.“Isthiscrazy?”
Shepickedupabrownwig.“Maybe.Butmyjobistohelpyouwithyourcrazy.Makeyouthebest,mostmagnificentcrazyyoucanbe.”
Isnorted.
KristenpreparedmefortheconcertlikeIwasasacrificedeliveringmyselftoanaltar.Iwasfussedoverandgarbed.
Iendedupwearingthehideousglassesandabeaniesincewecouldn’tgetallmyhairtostayunderawig—nottomentionthewigmademelooklikealunatic.
Kristen,ontheotherhand,didlooklikealunatic.
NobodybutJasonwouldrecognizeher,butthatdidn’tstopherfromgoingallout.Shewaswearingamulletandsomefakebracesshe’dbought.ItwassofunnyIcouldn’tstoplaugh-sobbingtheentirewaytotheForum.
Iwasamess.Mywholebodywasshaking.Myeyelidwasinfullrevolt.Whenwegotthere,ittookmetenminutestogatherthecouragetoevengetoutofthecar.
WalkingintotheForumfeltoff.Ididn’tcomeintovenuesthiswayanymore.Icameintheback,throughserviceentrances,withtheband.Ihungoutwhiletheysetup.Watchedshowsfrombackstage.
NowIwasinthecrushofthecrowd.Ihadtogothroughmetaldetectorsandgetmyticketsscanned.Iwasaspectator.Afan.Justoneofhismillions.Nodifferentfromanyoneelse.AndIguessthatallmadesense.Afterall,IwasheretoseeJaxon,notJason.
Iwasn’tevensureJasonexistedanymore.
Kristentriedtogetmetoeatsomething,butIcouldn’t.IletherbuymeabottledwaterandIwaitedbythemerchtablesforherwhilesherantogetit.Istaredatthepostersforsale.“Iwaswithhimwhenhetookthosepictures,”IsaidtoKristenwhenshecameback.“I’dbeenstandingthererightoffcameraatthephotoshoot.”
Buttherewereotherpostersnowtoo,picturesIhadn’tbeentherefor.Hedidn’twantmethereanymore.He’dejectedmefromthislife.
ThebetrayalsurgedbackandIalmostlostmynerve.
Zane’sexpensiveticketsweren’tahardsell.Wefoundacoupleinthetenthrowtotradeusforourfront-rowseats.Nowwewerecloseenoughtoseehimwell,buttoofarforhimtonoticemefromthestage.
Iwasnervousandjumpythroughthewholeopeningact.WhenGrayscaledidtheirlastsongandJessadidher“MakesomenoiseforJaxonWaters!”Ipanickedanddiddebateleavingbeforehecameout.
Maybethiswastotallyself-destructive.MaybeifIsawhim,knowingthathe’dnevercheatedonme,itmightmakethingsworse.Imighthaveahardertimeacceptingthatweweren’ttogetheranymoreifIwasn’tfortifiedwithmypurerage.
“God.Ican’tbelieveI’mdoingthis.”
Kristendippedherheadtolookmeintheeye.“Wecangoanytimeyouwant.Okay?”
Inodded.ButIwouldn’tgo.Iwouldseethisthrough.Ihadto.
WestaredupatthetwoJumbotrons,oneoneithersideofthestage,withthewords“JaxonWaters”rotatingoveranimageofaloon.
Iknewwhatwasgoingonbackstage.Icouldimagineeveryactivitythatwasbringinghimclosertocomingout.Hewaswalkingoutofthedressingroom.Zanewashandinghimawaterbottle.Aproductionmanagerwasjogginginfrontofhim,steppingoverthickblackelectricalcords,speakingintoaheadsetsotherestofthebandwouldknowitwastimetogatherbythecurtain.Jasonwouldputinhisin-earmonitorandhandhiswaterbacktoZane.He’dopenandclosehisfiststowarmthemupthewayhealwaysdidbeforehewenton.Hewouldn’tbenervous.He’dbelooseandlight,andgettingbrighterthecloserhegottogoingon,likehedrewhisenergyfromthepulseofthecrowd.
Andthentherehewas.
HeburstontothestagethroughfogandfireworksinawhiteT-shirtwithanavyvelvetjacketoverit.HishairwaslongerthanIrememberedontop,butitlookedgood.Icouldalmostseetheblueofhiseyes.
IclutchedKristen’sarmwithmylefthand.Hisvoicewasbeautifulandstrongandmyheartgaveout.
Ilovedhim.
Evennow,aftereverythinghe’dputmethrough,Ilovedhim.EvenifhewasJaxon.
AndZanewasright.Hewasfuckedup.
Hecameoutwiththesameenergyasalways.ButIknewhim.Performingwasthethinghelovedmostinlife.Nomatterhowtiredhegot,hiseyesalwayslitupwhenhehitthestage.Hecouldalwayssummonitforhisfans.Buthewasdarksomehow.Faded.
Acopyofacopy.
Everyonewasscreamingaroundme,pulsingwiththemusic.HisvoiceboomedthroughmywholebodyuntilIwassaturated.Hecameinthroughmyeyes,myears,thevibrationinthefloor.Icouldtastethememoryofhissweatonmytongue,smellthewarmmasculinescentofhimafterashowwhenhe’dpeeloffhisshirtandslideoverme,hisheartstillracingfromtheadrenalineofthecrowd.
HowcouldIgohomeafterthis?
HowcouldIgetthishourandahalfofhimandthenleavewitheveryoneelsewho’dcometoseehim?Andthentheworldwouldjustswallowhimuponcemoreandhe’ddisappear.
I’dprobablyneverseehimagain.Notinperson.IdidwhatI’dcometodo,butIcouldalreadyfeelmyheartpayingthepriceforthisvisit.Itwasasunhealthyasspendingallmytimeinacemetery.Itwasacold,one-sideddevotionandIcouldn’tputmyselfthroughitagain.
Kristenputahandovertheoneclutchingherarm.ItfeltlikeithadwhenI’dsatinthathospitalroomwithherbyBrandon’sbedside.IcouldseethemanIloved.Hewasthere,buthewasgone,beyondmyreach.
Thefeelingwascrushing.Ahelplessnessnooneshouldeverhavetoknow.
AndnowI’dknownittwice.
Kristenpulledtissuesfromherpurseandputthemintomyhands.“Thankyou.”Isniffed,pressingthetissueundermyeye.“God,Iwouldhaveneverlefthim,”Isaid,shoutingoverthemusic.“Nomatterwhat.Iwouldhavefollowedhimaroundtheworldlikeagroupiefortherestofmylife.”
KristenpausedaminuteandthenleanedintomyearsoIcouldhearher.“Didyoueverthinkmaybehewantedmoreforyouthanthat?”
“Iknowhewantedmoreformethanthat,”Isaid,tooquietlyforhertohear.
ThesongendedandIknewJasonwoulddowhathealwaysdidafterthefirstone.He’dthankthecrowdandwelcomethemtotheshow.Saysomethingpersonalaboutthecity.
Howinconsequentialwasthisplacetohimnow?Iwonderedifheevenknewwherehewas,orifhe’dhadtolookathishandbeforehehitthestage.
Heputhislipstothemic.“Thankyou,thankyou.It’sgreattobebackinLA.”
EveryonecheeredandIwaitedforhimtosaysomethingaboutthebeachorDisneylandortrafficonthe405.
Butthensomethingweirdhappened.Hejuststopped.
Itstartedslow.Theslightdownturnatthecornerofhislips,thelossofhumoraroundhiseyes.Andthenhechangedsuddenlyandallatonce,likeamaskhadcomelooseandfallenoffandunderneathithewasdeeplysad.
Hepaused.Hepausedsolongthecrowdstartedtomurmur.
“Actually,no,”hesaid,histonesuddenlyserious.“BeingbackinLAhasbeenalittleroughforme.I’msorry.It’sjust…somethinghappenedtoday,andit’sbeenhard.”Heglanceddownatthestageandshookhishead.Hiseyescamebackupandlookedoverhisfans.“Youguysdon’tknowthis,butImettheloveofmylifeinLosAngeles.”
Isuckedinashockofairandmyheartstoppeddeadinmychest.
Thecrowdwhistledandhooted,butJasonputahandup.“No,no.It’snotwhoyouprobablythinkitis.Thetabloidsgetitwrongmostofthetime.LolaSimoneandIarejustcolleaguesandgoodfriends.No,thiswoman…”Heseemedtostrugglewithit.“Shewasincredible.Shefoundmydog,actually.That’showImether.Wouldn’tgivehimback.SaidIhadtoproveIlovedhimfirst.”Helaughedalittleandthecrowdlaughedtoo.
Hewenton.“Wefellinlovereallyfast.Iknowpeoplesayloveatfirstsight—butitreallywas.Hell,IlovedherbeforeIevenlaideyesonher.Shecameontourwithme.She’sthisamazingartist,andshecouldn’tpaintontheroad.”Heclutchedthemicrophonestandwithbothhands.“Beingontourisn’teasy.It’sexhausting.Andshewaswillingtodoitbecauseshelovedme,eventhoughitmeantmakingalotofsacrifices.ButthereweresomebadthingsgoingonthatIcouldn’ttellherabout.Reallyscarystuff.AnditgottoapointwhereIrealizedthatbeingwithmewasn’tgoodforher.Icouldn’tgiveheralifeorprotecther.SoIletherbelievesomethingterribleaboutmesoIcouldenditwithher.”
Kristensqueezedmyarm.“Areyouhearingthis?Whatishetalkingabout?”
Ishookmyhead,tearsstartingtowellinmyeyes.“Idon’tknow,”Ibreathed.
Hechuckledalittle.“Thefunnythingis,IgotwhatIwanted.Iwantedhertogetoverme.Andyouknowwhat?Shedid.”Hedraggedahanddownhismouth.“Yeah.She’sonadatetonight.Isawher.WentdowntoherartgalleryandsawherwithsomeguywhenIwasabouttocomeout.Itfuckingkilledme,”hewhispered.“Ithoughtbreakingupwithherwashard.Butseeingthat…”
Mymouthwentdry.Icouldn’tevenbreathe.“Kristen,hewasthere.”Iwasafraidtotakemyeyesoffhimtolookather.“Hewasthere,”Iwhispered.“Hecame.”
Thistimehedidn’trecoverasquickly.Hewentquietforalongmomentandtheaudiencesimmeredtoahush.Cellphoneshoveredoverheads,recordingvideo.Youcouldhaveheardapindropinthearena.Theywerehangingonhiswords.
Jasonsqueezedhiseyesshutandwhenheopenedthem,histonewassad.“Youthinkyouknowwhatlovelookslike.Youthinkthefairytalesandtheromanticmoviesprepareyou.Andthenyoufinally,reallytrulyfinditandyourealizeyouneverknewathingaboutituntilher.”Heshookhishead.“ShewaseverylovesongI’veneverbeengoodenoughtowrite.”Hisvoicecrackedonthelastword.
“Sloan,”Kristenwhispered.“Everybody’scrying…”Shetappedme.“Look.”
Itoremyeyesfromthestagetolookaround.Thewomannexttomehadherhandoverhermouthandtearsrunningdownherface.Everyonedid.
Jasonwipedathiseyeswithhisthumbandpickeduphisguitar.“I’llnevergetherback.It’stoolateforthat.ButthissongisforSloananyway.It’scalled‘Proof.’”
Myfragileheartshattered.Icompletelylostit.Ileanedforward,handsovermymouth,andsobbed.
Hesang.
Itwaspoetryaboutawomanwhowaseveryseason.Shewasthemuffledmomentwhensnowstartedtofall.Asoft,beguilingspringfogoveraglasslake.Thefullmoon,whiteandunmarredinaninky-blacksummersky.Anautumnsovibrantyoucandiefeelingpeacebecauseyoureyeshaveseenit.
Itwasthemostbeautifulthinghe’deverwritten.ItwasthemostbeautifulthingI’deverheard
Anditwasmine
Iwasn’tsurroundedbythousandsofcaptivatedJaxonfans.Kristenwasn’tsittingnexttome.Jaxonwasn’teventhere.ThiswasJasonsinging.Andeverywordwasadeclarationofunrivaledlove,anapology,andapleaforforgiveness—tonoone.Becausehedidn’tevenknowIwashere.Hethoughtitwasnothingbutacryintothevoidtoawomanwho’dmovedon.
Hewasso,sowrong.
Whenitended,thecrowdwentinsane.I’dneverheardthemlikethat.Notevenafterhismostpopularsongs.
Hissadeyesscannedhisscreamingfanslikenoneofitmatteredtohim.Likehedidn’tcareonewayoranotherwhethertheylikeditbecausehewastoobrokentofeelanythingbuttheemptinessthatI’dbeenfeelingforthelastthreemonths.
Andthenhestoppedcold.
Heputahanduptoblockthelightsandsquintedoutoverthecrowd.
“Oh.My.God,”Kristenbreathednexttome.
Hejuststoodthere,staring.
Atme
Itwasn’tpossible.
Iwasonefaceinthethousandsonthefloor.Iwasburiedinthecrowd.Ihadahatonandglassesandthelightswereinhiseyes.Buthewaslookingrightatme.Hewaslookingatmesointenselypeoplestartedturningaroundtolookatmetoo.
Icouldn’tmove.Iwasfrozentomyseat.
AndthenJasondroppedhisguitarandjumpedoffthestage.
Alaughingsobburstfrommylips.Kristengrabbedatmysweater,yankedmybeanieandglassesoff.“Go!Go!”Shespunmeandshovedmetowardtheaisle.
“Letmethrough!”Istartedtopushmywayoutoftherow.“Please!”
Imanagedtogettotheaisle,butonceIdid,myprogressstopped.Iwasn’ttheonlyonetryingtogetout.
Bodiessurgedtowardthefront.FansfoldedinaroundJasononallsides,andIlostsightofhim.IonlyknewwherehewasbecausetheykepttheJumbotronstrainedonhimashetriedtomakehiswaythroughthethrong.
Itwascompletemayhem.
Hedidn’thaveanysecuritywithhimlikeheusuallydid.He’dstagedivedbeforetheyknewwhatwashappening.Therewasnobodytokeeptheswarmingfansback.
“Jason!”Thechaosdrownedoutmyvoice.EveryonewaspushinginthesamedirectionIwas,tryingtogetclosertothesameman.Iwasn’tmoving.
Ilookedaroundfrantically.Ihadtogethigher.Iclimbedaseatandstoodontopofit,peoplebumpingintomybackandlegs.Hewasstillfifteenfeetaway,buthesawme.“Sloan!”
Assoonashepointedmeout,thecamerafortheJumbotronpannedbackandthenzoomedinonme.Icouldseemyself,twentyfeettallinmyreddressandtattoos,tearsrunningdownmyface.
That’swhenpeopleseemedtounderstandwhatwashappening.Thecrowdbegantomakeapathtolethimthroughandgentlehandsguidedmedowntothefloorandtowardhim.Itfeltliketheebboftheocean.Ariptidesuckingmeouttosea.Theypartedformeandthenfoldedinafterme,pushingmeforward.Andthensuddenlytheonlypersoninfrontofmewashim.
Webothpausedforabreathlesssecondbeforewedoveforeachother.Ijumped,wrappingmylegsaroundhiswaist,andhecaughtme.
Thefloorshookwiththecheers.Cameraflashescameoffofathousandcellphonesandsomeonebackstagereleasedtheconfettimeantforthefinaleoftheshowanditburstoverthecrowdandflutteredaroundus.
HeburiedhisfaceinmyneckandIcouldfeeltherackingofhisgaspsasheheldmetohischest.Handstouchedus,peopleswayedagainstourbodieswiththesurgeofthecrowdanditdidn’tevenmatterbecausewewerealone.Itwasjustus.
Nothingwasleftbutus.
Hislipswenttomyear.“Ithinkwejustfiguredouthowtomakethemwantpicturesofustogether.”
Ididn’tknowwhathemeant,butIdidn’tcare.
“Howdidyouseeme?”Iwhispered.
Hecameuptolookatme.Hehadtearsinhisbeautiful,blueeyes.“Itoldyou,Sloan.I’dnoticeyouinacrowdofamillion.”
Andthen,infrontoffifteenthousandcheeringJaxonWatersfans,Jasonkissedme.Epilogue
Sloan
?TheHuntsman’sWife|JaxonWaters
Threeyearslater
Tuckerwatchedwithawaggingtailasourlong-sufferingstagehandsluggedmygiantreclinerbackstageandsetitupinmyusualspotwhereIcouldwatchmyhusbandplay.
Whenhefirstboughtmethismonstrosity,I’drefusedtouseit.Itwasbeyondridiculous.Ithadthemassagefeaturesandaremoteandeverything.Itweighedlikehalfatonandneededanextensioncordtopoweritup.
Forthefirstfewweekshe’dhadtoplopmeinitbeforeeveryshowandcommandmetostay,threateningtopunishmeformovingbydraggingmeonstagetointroducemetothecrowd.Again.
Thealbumhe’ddedicatedtome,SloanIn-Between,hadgoneplatinum.Actually,allofhislastthreealbumshadgoneplatinum.NottomentionIwasamediadarlingandhadbeeneversinceJason’sdramaticstageplungeattheForumthreeyearsago.ThevideoofJason’sconfessionandhimkissingmeinthecrowdhadgoneviralandsuddenlyeveryonehadwantedtoknowwhoIwas.IhadalmostasmanyInstagramfollowersashedid.Peoplelovedmyphotosoflifeontour,somyonstagecameoswerealwaysacrowdpleaser,eventhoughIwascompletelymortifiedeverysingletimehedidit.Ididn’tknowhowhecouldstandoutthereinfrontofallthosepeopleandnotbenervous.
Ifeltdifferentaboutmychairthesedays,though.Nowthatmyankleswerestartingtoswell,IactuallyappreciatedbeingabletoputmyfeetupwhileIwatchedmyhusbandperform.
We’dbeenontheroadforeightmonthsthistime.TheHollywoodBowlwasourlaststopbeforewewenthome—forgood.
Thisshowwasthelastonewiththislabel.Jasonwassigningwithasmallerindependentoneafterthis.Themoneywasn’tquiteasgood,andtheydidn’tofferasmanyfrills,butthelifebalancewe’dhavewouldmakeitworthit,andtheygaveJasoncompletecontroloverhisworkandhisschedule.
Jasonwasdoinghissoundcheck,soIsatdown,hoistingmypregnantbelly.Tuckerploppedbymychair.ZanepulledupnexttomeasIextendedthelegrestandhandedmeawarmStarbuckscup.Sheturnedametalfoldingchairbackwardandstraddledit,crossingherarmsoverthebackrest.“Ernietoldmetotellyouhe’sonhiswayandhehasthecupcakes.”
“Hegotlemondrops,right?”Iasked.IwasaddictedtoNadiaCakes,andmypregnancycravingswereserious.
“Placedtheordermyself.Couldn’tletErniefuckthatup.Ididn’twantyoupissedatme.”
“Likeeitherofuscouldevergetpissedatyou.”Ismiled.
ShesmirkedandwesatandwatchedJasonadjusthismicrophonestand.Hesangafewversestotesthisequipmentandhetippedhisheadtowardme,hislipstothemic,andwinked.IblewhimakissandhisgringotsobigIcouldhearitinhisvoice.
Lola—Nikki—joinedhimforthebigcities,byourinvitation.She’dbeheretonight.Shewasactuallyprettycool.Shewasmostlyproducingthesedaysanddoingreallywell.SheonlyperformedwithJason,andthetwoofthemcollaboratedonwritingmostofhissongs—exceptfortheoneshewroteaboutme.Thosejustpouredoutofhim.
Hesethisguitardownonitsstandandwalkedovertous,pullingouthisin-earmonitor.Heputhishandsonthearmsofmychairandleaneddowntokissme.“Areyoucomfortable,sweetheart?”
“Yeeeess.”Ismiledagainsthislips.
HeputahandtomybellyandImovedittotheleft,wherethebabywaskicking,andhiseyesgleamed.
“Shelikesthemusic,”Isaid.
Heheldhishandtomywigglingstomachandgrinned.“Areyouhungry?”
“Always.”
“Almostdone.”Heleaneddownandkissedmystomach.“Twentymoreminutes,”hesaidtomybabybump.HereacheddownandruffledTucker’shead,thenjoggedbackouttohissoundcheck.
Zanechuckledafterhim.“Youknow,itwouldn’tkillyouguystobeslightlylessadorable.”
Ismiledather.“Probablynot.Butwhyriskit?”
Wesurvivedourlastshowofthetourandhadalatedinnerwithmyparents.Thenweheadedhome—well,ourversionofhome.AminimansionwerentedinWoodlandHills.ItwascloseenoughtoKristenandJoshforwhenwewereintownbetweentours.Itwasgatedandsafeandwehadaplacetokeepourstuffwhilewewereontheroad.
BothofuspreferredElytoLA.Jason’sfamewasharderonusinCalifornia.Wecouldn’treallygooutwithoutgettingapproached.
Elywassmall,andnobodytherecaredwhohewas.Everyonetherehadgrownupwithhim.Therewasnopaparazzi,andI’dgottenreallyclosetoPatriciaoverthepastthreeyears.Withthebabycoming,itwouldhavebeennicetolivenearher.ButKristenandJoshtookpriorityforme,andwhatevertookpriorityformetookpriorityforJason.SoWoodlandHillsitwas.
Jasonsmiledatmefromthelimoseatacrossfromme.“Ihavealittlesurpriseforyou.”Hegrinned.
Inarrowedmyeyesathim.“Whatsurprise?Ididn’tlikethelastone.”
Hechuckled.“What?WhenItoldyouIwanttogetpregnantagainrightaway?”Hecrossedovertositnexttomeandleanedintokissme,puttingahandonmybelly.“Ijustloveyoulikethis,”hebreathedagainstmylips.
Ijerkedmyheadback.“Anddidyouloveallthebarfing?”
“Well,no.Butlookhowsexyyouarerightnow…”Heputhisfaceintomyneckandtrailedhismouthacrossmyskin.
“Thereisnothingsexyaboutthis,Jason.I’mswollenandstarving.Ihavetopeeconstantly.”
Helaughedintomyneck.“IthinkIcanconvinceyou.”
Yes,hewasverygoodatconvincingmetodothings.Likegettingmetoagreetomarryhimjustforty-eighthoursafterwegotbacktogether.I’dbeenwearingaringsincetwodaysaftertheForum.
“WhatifIhadsaidno?”I’dasked.
“ThenIwasgoingtogointoplanB.”
“Whichwaswhat?Subterfuge?TellmeI’mjustyourgirlfriendbutreallywe’dbeengagedthewholetime?”
He’dlaughed.“No.Unwavering,unrelentingpersistence.”
Ihadn’tsaidno,ofcourse.ButI’dmadehimwaitayeartomarryme.Ididn’twantsomethingrushed.Iwantedarealwedding—andI’dkeptmylastname.Iwantedmyownidentity.
We’dgottenmarriedattheGlensheenmansioninDuluth,ontheshoreofLakeSuperior—homeofthewreckoftheEdmundFitzgerald.TuckerhadwornatuxedoKristenhadmadeforhim,andhesatatourfeetaswe’dsaidourvows.Oliverhadbeenourringbearer.Ernie,David,Zane,andJoshhadstoodnexttoJason,andKristenhadstoodnexttome—thewayitwasalwaysgoingtobe.
“Sowhat’syoursurprise?”Iasked,closingmyeyesashekissedmyneck.
“It’sathome.”
WestoppedatForestLawnlikewealwaysdidwhenwecametotownsoIcouldvisitBrandon.Jasonusuallystayedbehindinthecartogivemesomeprivacy,exceptforonetime,rightbeforeweweremarried.He’daskedtohavesomealonetimeatBrandon’sgrave.
He’dspentahalfanhourtherewhileIwatchedfromthecar.Hedidn’ttellmeexactlywhathe’dsaid.Onlythathewasthankinghim,andlettinghimknowhewasgoingtotakegoodcareofme.
Itmeantalottomethathe’dtoldhimthat.
JasonandIbothgavebloodonBrandon’sbirthday,atraditionwevowedtokeepfortherestofourlives.
Whenwepulleduptothecurbinfrontofthehouse,KristenandJoshwereoutfrontwiththeirkidsandStuntmanMike.“Mysurprise?”IbeamedatJason.Weweren’tsupposedtoseethemuntiltomorrow.
Hewinked.
IgotoutandKristenrantome.Ihadn’tseenherinfivemonths.
“Lookatyouandyoursexinjury!”shesaid,puttingherhandsonmybelly.“DoesJasonknowwhatthisbabyisabouttodotohisfavoriteplayground?”
“Yes.Andcanyoubelievehewantstodoitagainrightafterthisonecomesout?”
Shearchedaneyebrow.“That’seighteenmonthswithoutrawcookiedoughandrealcoffee.Hashemetyou?”
Webothlaughed.
JasonandJoshhugged,slappingeachotherontheback.TheysaweachotherasmuchasIsawKristen.TheguysflewouttoMinnesotaforthedeerandduckopenersandwe’dallspentaweekinElyrightbeforethetoursoheandJasoncouldgoicefishing.Theywerepracticallybestfriends.Kristensaidtheywerehavingabromance.
IhuggedKimmyandSarah,KristenandJosh’sadopteddaughters.Theywerenineandelevennow.
TwoyearsagoJoshhadgoneonafatalheartattackcallatwork.Themanwho’ddiedwasthegrandfatherandsoleguardianofhistwogranddaughters.KristenandJoshsteppedinasemergencyfosterparents.Thegirls’adoptionshadbeenfinalizedjustafewmonthsago.Theywereamazingkids.
“Howhaveyouguysbeen?”Iasked,scoopingOliverupintoahug.
“Oh,youknow,justdoingthemarriedthing,eatingtacoswiththatonespecialpersonfortherestofourlives.Howwasthetour?”Kristenasked.
“Pieceofcake.Gladit’sover,though.”IstraightenedfrommyhugswithOliverandputmyhandsonmylowerbackasIwalkedtothegate.
“Areyougonnaautographmycookbookforme?”Kristenasked.
Ilaughed.“Sure.”
I’dpublishedacookbook.SlowCookerRecipesbyTheHuntsman’sWife.I’ddevelopedmostoftheminthebus,ontour.Alltherecipeshadconversionsforwildgame.AndIpaintedontourtoo.Ihadatwo-yearwaitinglistformyartwork.
I’dmadetheroadmyhome.Beingontourwasaseasytomenowasbreathing.
Istartedtopunchinthecodetothegate,butitwasn’tworking.Iwrinkledmyforehead.“Thisthing’sbroken.”
“You’reatthewronghouse,”Jasonsaidfrombehindme.
Ilookedbackthroughthegate.No.Thiswasthehouse.Thesameonewe’drentedforthelastthreeyears.
Iturnedaround,confused.Kristenwasbeamingatme.IlookedoverhershoulderatJasonandJosh,watchingmefromthecurb.Theystoodnexttoeachotherandgrinnedlikeconspirators.
“What’sgoingon?”Iasked,lookingbackandforthbetweenthem.
Kristenlookedgiddy.“Youmoved.”
“What?”
Shesmiled.“Sodidwe.”
“Youmoved?When?Where?”
Thethreeofthemlookedateachotherliketheyweretryingtodecidewhoshouldanswerme.Jasonvolunteered.Hesteppedupandtookmycheeksinhishandsandkissedme.“ToEly.”
IgaspedandwhirledonKristen.“What?”
Jasongrinned.“Weboughthousesnexttoeachother.Ahundredacrescombined.Private.Safe.Aroomwithalakeviewforyoutopaintandarecordingstudioforme.”
“Weneededthebiggerplace,”Joshsaid,puttinganarmaroundhissmilingwife.
Kristenlookedatherhusbandandhegrinnedather.“Joshquitthefiredepartment.HegotajobwiththeForestServiceinMinnesota.And…”Shepaused.“Oursurrogate’spregnant.”
“What?”Ibreathed.
“She’sdueinthreemonths,”shesaid,beaming.
Iputmyhandsovermymouth.“Wegettohavebabiestogether?”
Shenodded,hereyestearingup.“I’llbeabletosnowshoetoyourhouseinablizzardtoborrowacupoffrozenmilk.”
Ilaughed,takingturnshuggingthemallthroughtears.Iendedwithmyhusbandandputmyfaceintohischest.Heputhislipstomyear,hisarmswrappedaroundmyback.“Tryingtokeepallmypromises.”
AllIcoulddowasnod.Thebabykickedbetweenus,andIfeltsomuchhappinessmyheartthreatenedtoburst.
WhenIpulledaway,hekissedme,hiseyesalittlemisty.“Comeon,wehaveaplanewaiting.It’stimetogohome.”ANOTEFROMTHEAUTHOR
*Theidentifyingdetailsofthefollowinghavebeenchangedoutofrespectforprivacy.
Ihaveaveryclosechildhoodfriendwhowaswidowedinhertwentieswhenheryounghusbandpassedawaysuddenly.
Beforethetragedy,myfriendwasfiercelydrivenandindependent.Shewasworkinginacareersheadoredandwasthriving.Twoyearsafterherhusband’sdeath,shewasstillwithdrawnandisolated.She’dstoppeddoingthingssheloved.Shecouldn’tholddownajob.Shehadanxietyandpanicattacks.She’ddisappearforweeksatatimeinherisolation,andIcouldn’tgetheronthephoneorgethertoopenthedoor.Shedidn’thaveanyclosefriendsanymore,andherrelationshipswithherfamilywerestrained.Sherefusedtogotocounseling.
Itseemedlikesomuchofthestateofherlifehadsomecolossalrippleeffect.Thelackofself-care,therefusaltosocializeorseektherapy,thejunkfoodsheatebecauseshecouldn’tbringherselftocookforone,theunhealthyhabitsshepickeduptocopewiththestressandanxietyofherloss.
Inowknowthatmyfriendwasmostlikelysufferingfromaconditioncalledcomplicatedgrief,alsoknownaspersistentcomplexbereavementdisorder.It’smostcommonwhenthedeathisunexpectedorparticularlytraumaticandthepersonlostisveryclosetoyou.
WhenIstartedwritingTheHappyEverAfterPlaylist,IneverinmywildestdreamsthoughtI’dgetitpublished.Writingwasjustahobby,andthisbookwasmoreformethananythingelse—acatharticexercise,myownwayofworkingthroughtheconfusing,shatteredaftermathIwaswitnessing,awaytomakemyfriendbetter,evenifitwasjustfiction—becausenothingIdidinreallifeseemedtohelpher.Ifeltlikeahelplessbystander,andIwantedsomuchforsomethingorsomeonetoreachherbeyondthewallofsadnessshe’dputuparoundherself.SoImadeupafictionaluniverseandafictionalwidowwholivedbehindawallofgrief,andIsentinTuckertoretrieveher.Buttheresthadtobeher
Ittookactiveparticipationonmyfriend’spartandpeoplearoundherwhonevergaveuptryingtomakeherwholeagain,butjustlikeinthebook,eventuallyshedecidedtopursuehealingandhappiness.She’sfinallyfoundjoyinlifeagain.Iwishitwouldhavehappenedsooner—butI’mgratefulithappenedatall.Becauseforaverylongtime,Iwasafraiditwouldn’t.
AccordingtoBridgestoRecovery,itisestimatedthatbetween10to20percentofthosewhohavelostalovedonewillexperienceanextendedperiodofcomplicatedbereavement.Complicatedgriefcanaffectyouphysically,mentally,andsocially.Withouttreatment,complicationsincludedepression,suicidalthoughts,PTSD,increasedriskofheartdisease,cancer,orhighbloodpressure,andsubstanceoralcoholabuse.
Gettingcounselingsoonafteralossmayhelppreventcomplicatedgrief.Hospicewillhaveresourcesavailable.Talkingwithothersandseekingsupportfromfriendsandfamilyandsupportgroupsmayalsohelp.Medicationsareavailabletoassistwithdepressionandsleepdisordersassociatedwiththecondition.
Ifyouoranyoneyouknowissufferingfromunresolvedgrief,pleaseseekhelp—itcangetbetter.Myfriendwantsmetotellyouthat.?THEHAPPYEVERAFTERPLAYLIST
?IntheMourning|Paramore
?affection|BETWEENFRIENDS
?MiddleofNowhere|HotHotHeat
?oceaneyes|BillieEilish
?GiveMeaTry|TheWombats
?Future|Paramore
?TalkTooMuch|COIN
?ThisCharmingMan|TheSmiths
?ABeautifulMess|JasonMraz
?SoulMeetsBody|DeathCabforCutie
?Name|GooGooDolls
?ElectricLove|B?rns
?MakeYouMine|PUBLIC
?MaybeYou’retheReason|TheJapaneseHouse
?IWantItAll|COIN
?Girlfriend|Phoenix
?IFeelIt|AvidDancer
?TheWreckoftheEdmundFitzgerald|JaxonWaters
?MiseryBusiness|Paramore
?Superposition|YoungtheGiant
?WhiteWinterHymnal|FleetFoxes
?Everywhere|Roosevelt
?IntoDust|MazzyStar
?burnslowly/iloveyou|TheBrazenYouth
?26|Paramore
?Broken|Lund
?BloodintheCut|K.Flay
?AMomentofSilence|TheNeighbourhood
?MessIsMine|VanceJoy
?Holocene|BonIver
?Diamonds|BenHoward
?BigJetPlane|Angus&JuliaStone
?DoIWannaKnow?|ArcticMonkeys
?YesI’mChanging|TameImpala
?LittleBlackSubmarines|TheBlackKeys
?idon’tknowwhattosay|BringMetheHorizon
?KeepYourHeadUp|BenHoward
?BottomoftheDeepBlueSea|Missio
?FulStop|Radiohead
?AboutToday|TheNational
?It’sNotLiving(IfIt’sNotWithYou)|The1975
?freshbruises|BringMetheHorizon
?SomebodyElse|The1975
?IfIGetHigh|NothingButThieves
?Proof|JaxonWaters
?TheHuntsman’sWife|JaxonWatersAcknowledgments
Thebiggestofallthank-youstomyagent,Stacey,forreadingthequeryforthisbookandknowingitwassomethingspecialthesecondshelaideyesonit.Itwasthestartofawholenewchapterofmylife!AndthankyoutoDawnFrederickofRedSofaLiteraryforlettingmebeapartofyourauthorposse.
Thankyoutomyincredibleeditor,Leah,fornotonlyknowingwhatthisbookneeded,butknowinghowtoexplainittomeinawayIunderstoodsoIcouldmakeitthefabulousreaditistoday.
Estelle,you’reafuckingmarketinggenius.
AllthelovetotheteamatForeverwhobetareadthis,championedit,workedonthecover,figuredoutthetitle,andhelpeditreachreaders:Beth,Amy,Lexi,Elizabeth(Iadorethiscover!),Mari,Mary,Ali,Rachel,Suzanne,andallthemanyothers.
Ahugethank-youtomycritbuddiesonCritiqueCircleandbeyond:JoeyRinger,Hijo,TiaGreene,ShaunaLawless,DebbyWallace,J.C.Nelson,JillStorm,LizSmith-Gehris,G.W.Pickle,DawnCooper,AndreaDay,LisaStremmel,LisaSushko,MicheleAlborg,AmandaWulff,SummerHeacock,StaceySargent,George,Jhawk,AbbyLuther,PattPandolfi,BessyChavez,MandyGeisler,TeressaSadowski,LeighKramer,StephanieTrimbol,andKristynMay.
*WavesatLindsay.*
Thankyou,PattyGibbs,forgivingmesomepublicistbehind-the-scenesinfo,andJasonfromElyOutfittingCompanyforlettingmeusethenameofyouroutfitter(yes,it’sarealplace!Goseeitandletthemshowyouthemostpristinewildernessintheworld!).
Anextrabigthank-youtoKimT.Kao(BookBruin)andauthorLeighKramerforbetareadingthisintheeleventhhour.
AspecialmentiontoDawnCooperforbeingmynumberone!Thisbookhaschangedalotsincethefirstdraftandyouwerethereforallofit,ineverywaypossible.Notonlywouldthisbooknotbethesamewithoutyou,butIwouldnotbethesameauthorwithoutyou.Thoseplotwalksareeverything.
Tomyoldestdaughter,NaomiEsella,themusician,whogotabigmentioninthelastbook’sacknowledgmentsandwhosaidI’dprobablyforgettothankherforallthemusicstuffshehelpedmewithinthisone—thankyou!(Ishowedyouagain,yousaltybitch.)
Andlastly,thankyoutomyhusband.He’smynumberonefanandnoneofthiswouldbepossiblewithouthispatience,support,andlove.
Manythankstoallthesewonderfulsupporters!
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ACCLAIMFORABBYJIMENEZANDTHEFRIENDZONE
O,TheOprahMagazineBestRomanceNovelsoftheYear
BookishBestBooksoftheYearWomen’sHealthBestRomanceNovelsoftheYearGoodHousekeepingBestNewBooksforSummer
PopSugarBestBooksofSummer
SheReadsBestRomancesoftheYear
“Yournextrom-comtoobsessandcryover.”
—Cosmopolitan
“Yournextfavoriteromanticcomedy…TheFriendZoneisthatrarebeachreadwithtonsofheartthatwillmakeyoulaughandcryinequalparts.”
—PopSugar
“Jimenez’sdazzlingdebutisabrilliantlywrittenromanticcomedythatseamlesslytogglesbackandforthbetweenscenesoflaugh-out-loud,snarkywitandseriousemotionalissueswithoutmissingabeat.”
—Booklist,starredreview
“Jimenezmanagestofulfillallexpectationsforaromanticcomedywhilerefusingtosacrificenuance.Bitingwitandlaugh-out-loudmomentstakepriority,butthenovelremainssubtleinitssentimentalityandsneaksuponthereaderwithunanticipateddepth.…Deeplyrelatable.”
—PublishersWeekly,starredreview
“Anexcellentdebutthatcombineswit,humor,andemotionalintensity.”
—Kirkus
“Adeliciouslyhot,sweetdebutfullofbanterIcouldn’tgetenoughof.Thisbookisanabsolutetreat.”
—L.J.Shen,USATodaybestsellingauthor
“TheFriendZonegavemebellylaughs,shookmeup,andmademefeelhopefulaboutloveandthehumanstrengthofspirit.Aromancefortheages!”
—TessaBailey,NewYorkTimes
bestsellingauthorofFixHerUp
“Heartbreaking,gut-wrenching,andemotional.AbbyJimenezwroteadifficultstorylinewithsensitivity,heat,humor,banter,andunwaveringfriendship.”
—HarlequinJunkie,TopPick
“Abeautifultaleoflearningtoaccepttheloveyoudeserveandfindingapathtoself-acceptancealongtheway…azippy,instantlyrecognizablevoiceandfresh,funnycharacters.”
—EntertainmentWeekly
“Alaugh-out-loud,wickedlycleverbookthatsneaksuponyouwithacatharticemotionalpayoff.”
—JennyHoliday,authorofMermaidInn
“Thisnoveldoesn’tshyawayfromanything—it’sfiercelylovingallthewaytotheHEA.”
—NPR
AbouttheAuthor
AbbyJimenezisaFoodNetworkchampion,motivationalspeaker,andUSATodaybestsellingcontemporaryromancenovelistlivinginMinnesota.AbbyfoundedNadiaCakesoutofherhomekitchenin2007.Thebakeryhassinceexpandedtomultiplelocationsintwostates,wonnumerousFoodNetworkcompetitions,andamassedaninternationalcultfollowing.Abbyhassinceturnedhertalentstopenningnovels.Shelovesagoodbook,coffee,doglets,andnotleavingthehouse.
Youcanlearnmoreat:
AuthorAbbyJimenez.com
Twitter@AuthorAbbyJim
Facebook.com/AuthorAbbyJimenez
Instagram@AuthorAbbyJimenez
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