Perfectly Messy (29 page)

“This isn’t a game, Luce.”

“You’re serious?”

“Yes. Please.” That look in his eyes hurts but I’m not an idiot. I know what he wants.

“I refuse to be a
benefit
when you feel like it. That’s not how love works.”

Justin groans. “Lucy, you don’t honestly believe I meant that?”

Believe him?

“About the benefits?” He swears. “I said that to get you to hate me.”

“Get me to hate you?” Why would he do that? I glare at him, adrenaline turning my blood sour. “Congratulations. It worked.”

“Lucy, I love—”

“
Don’t
say it.” My chest burns with hope. The pain is too much. No. I refuse to go through this again. “I’ve moved on.”

“Hear me out. I broke up with you to protect you, Lucy, from the photos. That’s over now. News will break tomorrow, exposing all of the photos as false. My name will be cleared. It’ll be easier now.”

“Easier? Easier? Don’t lecture me about easy, Justin. Breaking my heart was the right thing to do? I’m sorry. I don’t call that easy at all.”

“You must have known though, Lucy. I still love you. Haven’t stopped.”

I rub my temple. “Let me get this straight. You loved me, so you dumped me to protect me from the drama?”

“Exactly.” He holds out his hands for me to come to him. Uh, no.

“Justin, I didn’t even let you see the
drama
. I held it together for you.”

“Right, and that was wrong too. I knew the photos were killing you, but you wouldn’t share that with me at all. I heard you on the phone when I called you that afternoon. You were bawling your eyes out.”

He heard me? Then why didn’t he respond? He’s demented. Instead of feeling loved, he’s stirred an angry fire in my soul.

“So, you heard me cry? Then you pretended you didn’t have service, texted, and came over to end everything.”

He doesn’t answer. Yeah, that’s what I thought.

“Oh my God. Do you realize what a jerk you are? You can’t honestly believe you broke up with me to protect me still, do you?”

“I did it because I love you.”

I take a step closer to him now. “No,” I whisper. “You broke up with me because you couldn’t handle the situation. It wasn’t perfect anymore.”

“I was handling it fine.”

“Were you? Instead of reaching out and welcoming my emotions, you broke up with me. I was
too much
for you. The photos made everything fall apart. The moment life didn’t feel perfect anymore, you bolted.” I step past him, ready to say goodbye forever. No, he doesn’t even deserve a goodbye now, but I can’t help but look back one last time.

“Your conceit and pride in perfection ruined us. Not those photos. Those photos were fake, what you did was real.”

I slide open the back door, stepping back into the crowd. My face feels wild but I don’t care. I stomp up the stairs and find Ian in the corner. He’s hanging out with Luke and Laura. Marissa’s sitting a few feet away, swinging her legs on a bar stool.

“Long line?” she says.

“Something like that.” I slide past her with a fake smile and take Ian’s hand. He wraps his other hand around mine as he continues to talk to Luke about the logistics behind the latest Zombie film. Ian’s hand is warm, the calluses from playing his guitar are thick on his fingertips.

Marissa’s eyes smile at me as she climbs back on her stool. The last time I was here, she was dancing on tables. Now, she’s the calm, relaxed girl. It’s still odd to see her without a swarm of icky guys following her. I don’t think they even recognize her anymore.

I study her as I try to push my confrontation with Justin from my mind. How come she isn’t always so pissed at her life? Her mom’s a drunk. Her dad’s always absent, even when they’re in the same room. She brings her camera to her face and snaps a few photos of the crowd. No wonder she’s always loved photography. It’s her only escape.

Occasionally, her eyes flicker my direction but they don’t land on me. They land on Ian.

Oh my gosh.

Ian.

Why hadn’t I thought of it before?

Does Marissa like him? She always takes the farthest seat away from him at the coffee shop. And she’s quiet around him too, only adding to the conversation, never directing where it’ll go.

Ian and Marissa? He’s completely outside of her reputation. Yeah, he knows about her photos, too, but I’m certain he’ll never look at them. He’s way too respectable for that. Marissa would have a chance to start fresh with Ian. Oh my gosh, they should date! Ian’s hand squeezes mine as if in confirmation of my thoughts.

I squeeze back before I let go, moving to Marissa’s side. “Hey.”

“Hey, having fun?”

“No. I spoke to Justin downstairs.”

“Wow. How’d it go? Are you okay?”

I blow out a long breath. “It’s definitely over. I got some closure.” Total lie, but whatever. That’s the closest to closure I’ll ever get. I glance over at Ian. “He’s cute, right?”

She doesn’t even glance his way as she says, “One hundred percent hot, yup.” Wow, she really does respect me now. Where she’d once drool and ogle, now she doesn’t even look.

“You should go talk to him,” I whisper.

“What?” she says, shifting down from the stool.

“Marissa, I can tell you like him. I…well, I mean, I like him but I’m not
into
him like you are. I don’t think I’m ready to date, yet.”

“Lucy, don’t be insane. Ian’s awesome.”

“No, honestly. I’m not ready for this.” A weight lifts from my shoulders and suddenly, it’s easier to breathe. It’s okay that I’m not ready. It’s fine. I’ll go at life and relationships at my own speed. Ian’s not really the type of guy I’d ever fall for anyway. My type of guy is… well, other than Justin, I don’t know. I’ll have to figure that out. But Ian? Even that tickle I had around him last week is gone now. “Ian’s not meant for me. Go hang out with him.”

“Lucy, I’m not going to throw myself at him just because you say so.”

“Right. No, of course not. I’m just saying feel free to start a friendship with him. Not that you need my permission—”

“No, I do after what I did to you,” she says softly.

“Okay, well then, I’m giving it to you. Ian’s fantastic. Become friends with him and see if it goes anywhere.”

“I don’t know.”

“Why not?”

“That’s terrifying, Lucy. Becoming friends with a guy and then risking it for a date or two?”

“Marissa, how else are you supposed to find love? Can you picture throwing yourself at him the way you used to?”

“No, he’s too smart. Too Kind. Too…” She blushes. “He’s so different then the other guys.”

“See, that’s why you should just start hanging out with him.”

She nods. “We’ll see.”

“At least consider it. I’m telling Ian when we leave that we’re not going to work out. He’ll always be one of my good buddies but I can’t really see myself making out with him, ya know?”

Marissa laughs. “No. I don’t actually. I’ve been picturing making out with him since I first heard him sing. Seriously…” she flushes, “he’s so frickin’ hot.”

“Then hang out with him, okay?”

“Okay, I’ll see what happens. And, Lucy?” She tugs at my hand after I pull out of the hug. “Don’t give up on Justin just yet.”

“What do you mean?”

“Love is hard. Really hard. Not that I know…I mean, look at you and me. It took us a while but through the pain we found friendship. I’m glad the pain happened. Without it, I’d probably be on a beach somewhere posing for some Girls Gone Wild-ish video.”

“So you’re saying Justin dumping me is saving me from Girls Gone Wild?”

“Something like that.” She squeezes my hand. “If the love is there, it’ll work out.”

“I had no idea you were so wise.”

“I’ve been hiding lots.”

“Why?”

“You know better than anyone—it’s scary to be yourself.”

Someone taps my shoulder and I jump. Justin again? I whip around, not ready, but I can’t not look. Jen smiles back at me and gives me a hug. “I’ve missed you.” Her words mean so much. We’ve seen each other a few times in groups but, with the breakup, I knew she’d stand with Justin after all the support he’s given her. And that’s okay. I’d never want to break their friendship up.

“I’ve missed you back,” I say, hugging her. “What’s new?”

Suddenly a girl with a pixie haircut slides into view. Trish. Jen reaches back, taking her hand. Here, at the party, in front of everyone.

“Hi, Lucy,” Trish offers.

I don’t know what to do. I want to yell at her for all of Jen’s tears, but Jen smiles at me.

“We’ve been working things out,” Jen explains.

“Right,” I reach out, pulling Trish in for a brief hug. “Great to see you again, Trish. So, are you guys…”

“Together?” Jen offers. “Yup.”

“Is this
out
?”

Jen laughs. “As of twenty minutes ago, yup. When we walked in, Trish grabbed me and kissed me in front of everyone.” She giggles. “I totally wasn’t expecting that tonight.”

“How’d I miss that?”

Marissa nudges me. “You were in the basement.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I did, babe. Remember? If the love is there, it’ll work out.”

“For real, wise one, could you be less cryptic next time?”

“Nah, I kind of like this route.”

Ian smiles at me from the corner and my gut stirs. “Well, Jen and Trish, I’m happy you guys are back together.”

“Thanks.”

“Listen, I’ve got to get home. Curfew.” We say goodbye, then I make my way back to Ian’s side. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to get home.”

“Right, absolutely,” he says to me, but I swear his eyes flicker above my shoulder, studying Marissa. Good. This won’t be that hard.

In the car on the drive home, I’m honest. Totally straight forward. My breath catches as his head moves with my words, still studying the road. Finally, he responds, “That sounds fine to me. As long as we can still be friends. You’re too cool to lose.”

“Friends I can do. For sure.”

“Great. Are we still on for the coffee shop Saturday morning so I can help you study for your ACT?”

“Yes, definitely.”

I crawl out of his Toyota. “Do you mind if I bring a friend along?”

“No problem. I actually like teaching ACT tricks.”

“Well, she’s already taken her ACT. I’d be bringing her for fun.”

“Who?”

“Marissa?”

Then he smiles. Good, there’s something there for him too. “That’d be great,” he says. “She’s fun, plus I can quiz her about Harry Potter.”

“Right. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then?” I lean back into the car before I shut the door, giving him a brief kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for being a good guy, Ian.”

He blushes a bit. “No problem.”

Justin

Right about now, I’d take being run over by a heard of buffalo crushing my bones and defecating in my face over the pain of Lucy’s rejection. Of course she wasn’t going to jump into my arms with that stupid apology. I know better than that. Lucy’s full of fire. I’d need a monsoon to sizzle her out before she’d listen to me. Not that I’d want that, her fierceness is what I need in my life—someone to see through my total bull crap.

I sink into the leather couch in the living room, thankful for the silence of the house. Mom and Dad are staying at the governor’s mansion tonight. No interruptions. A chance to finally acknowledge how royally I’ve screwed up.

It’s like a train of disaster is following me. No matter how hard I try, I can’t keep everything going. I can’t keep it all right. I’ve given up. Even my Google calendar is sending me reminders to plan events. If Google’s noticing I’m falling behind, there’s no way I can pull my shit together well enough for Lucy to take me back.

A pillow wedges uncomfortably behind my back. Stupid cylinder pillow. What type of home actually has this crap! The pillow soars from my hands, smashing into the wall. All the hanging photos crash to the hardwood floor.

Shit.

I haul myself off the couch and grab a broom. Yet another awesome Justin Marshall moment. Just as I pick up the first photo out of the pile of glass, the garage door opens. Awesome. Goodbye, night to myself.

Dad walks in. His eyes widen as he takes in the scene. I catch my reflection in the mirror over the fireplace. It’s been a while since I’ve had a haircut and with all the hair yanking I’ve been doing, I’ve got some crazy ass scientist hair. Dad must think I’ve gone nuts. He walks carefully into the room, eyebrow raised. Smart father. Beware of rabid son. His eyes don’t leave mine as he reaches down, plucking a photo from the ground.

“You remind me so much of him like that,” he says, touching my hair.

“Who?”

“Jackson,” he smiles, glancing down at the photo in his hand. “Remember how funny he was? He used to do this weird act in the living room, making his hair stand up just like that.”

“Vaguely.” There’s a flash of Jackson jumping off the couch into a pile of cushions, his hair all over the place.

“Jackson.” Dad shakes his head as he takes a seat on the coffee table. “That kid. Man.”

“He was great,” I launch into his speech for him.

Dad laughs, coughing a little. “Actually, I was going to say that he drove me nuts.”