The Truth About Letting Go (10 page)

“I’m sorry she cornered you. Let me pay for my ticket.”

“No way!” he smiles, patting my hand. “I’ll treat. Consider it payback for the haircut.”

“Still. It feels too official.”

“Well, you are officially my luau date, aren’t you?”

My hands are clasped in my lap, and I bite the inside of my lip. “We’re in very different places, Jordan. You know that. And I mean, at your house, that kiss meant something to you, but—”

“It didn’t mean anything to you?” He glances at me. “Then you should seriously consider acting. You’re an excellent faker.”

I shake my head. “I just… I can’t go there.”

“You know what? It’s okay.” He turns the car into a parking space. “The last thing I expected was for someone like you to want—”

“Stop. Don’t say that.” I hated hearing those words from Charlotte, and I'm not about to hear them from Jordan. “I don’t think I’m better than you. It’s just… my feelings aren’t right. Nothing is. And I don’t believe what you believe. I won’t pretend I do.”

“I remember. In detail.” His voice is so warm, and I can’t help it. I do like Jordan, and that kiss did mean something. But I won’t go back now, not even for him.

“Look, you’ve been really great, and I don’t want to hurt you.”

The stupid alcohol is making me weak, and I feel like I might cry. We’re still sitting in the car, but the engine is off and it’s grown dark.

Jordan looks over at me and smiles gently. “Then don’t.”

He gets out of the car and jogs around to help me out, but I’m frustrated. Our conversation isn’t going the way I want it to go, and instead of shutting things down with him, it feels like somehow I’ve opened the door even more to a relationship. Mandy’s right. I’m completely lost.

Inside the theater, Colt arranges us so he and I are sitting beside each other in the middle with Mandy and Jordan on the outside. I wouldn’t have been so insensitive, but at the same time, I feel like I’m powerless when he’s around. It’s like he’s a drug and I want more, even if it means hurting Jordan. Even if I just said I didn’t want to hurt Jordan. Not to mention my best friend.

The lights go down, and more of our classmates trickle in. I guess everyone had the same idea since the luau ended early. Shadow Falls doesn’t offer much in the way of nighttime entertainment outside of school events.

Two huge tubs of popcorn are between Jordan and me, Colt and Mandy, but between me and my partner in crime is only a drink. I rest my hand on it as I watch the movie, and after a few seconds, I feel a light touch against my wrist. I glance down, and Colt is running the tips of his fingers along the side of my forearm. He slides them back and forth, making his way to my last two digits and then curls our pinkies together. Our hands drop down into the darkness between the seats, and it’s silly, but my heartbeat ticks up as if we’re being terribly bad. I close my eyes and lean my head back. He rubs the center of my palm, and I think of our bodies pressed together behind the bleachers. His finger pushes between mine, and I feel his knee pushing my legs apart. My face is hot as I think of his hands cupping my bottom and me rocking onto his lap.

“Hey,” Jordan leans over and I jump two inches, my eyes snapping open. “Are you sleeping?”

“No!” I pull my hand away and tuck it under my leg. “I was… I guess I have a headache.”

“We can go if you’re feeling bad.”

I study his face, his blue eyes, and I feel horrid. I feel worse than an original sinner. I’m a liar.

“I do feel bad,” I whisper. “Please take me home.”

His eyebrows pull together, and we quickly stand. I see Colt grin as I tell Mandy we’re leaving. She only half-heartedly protests, and we’re in the aisle, out the door and to the car.

“I’m sorry,” I say once we’ve reached the car.

“It was a dumb movie anyway,” Jordan smiles as he holds the door for me.

In less than five minutes we’re at my house. It’s not even ten thirty. My thoughts are consumed with the events of the night, and I don’t say a word as Jordan walks me to my door.

“I’m sorry you think we’re so different now,” he says when we stop. He takes my hand. “I’d like to kiss you goodnight.”

My chest clenches, and I think of us in his bedroom. Kissing Jordan was honest and amazing, and everything about him is kind and good and wants to help me. And if my life were different, if I still believed in anything… My eyes mist, so I look down.

“Jordan,” I breathe. “I am so not right for you.”

“I’m usually a good judge of character,” he says, stepping closer.

“I don’t want safety or faith, and that’s all you want.”

“That could change once the dust settles.”

“Once the dust settles, you might realize I’m too messed up.”

“No way,” he leans forward, and I look up. He’s so close, our noses are almost touching, and without thinking about it, I lift my chin ever so slightly. His mouth covers mine, and my heart breaks. I clutch his shirt and pull him closer to me. His arms tighten around my waist, and I sink into the warm goodness of him. His soft lips and bright blue eyes. The faint scent of the creek in his hair. I let him hold me closer, and for a moment, I don’t fight it.

But I don’t want fantasyland and fairytales. I don’t want safety. I want adrenaline and trouble. I want dirty kisses behind the bleachers and vodka shots with Colt. I turn my face and Jordan kisses my cheek, my ear. I feel his breath swish through my hair, and I know how to make him see.

Pain fills my chest as I think of what I’m about to do. I lift my chin again, and it doesn’t take much to get another kiss. My hands slide from where they’re gripping his shirt, and I find the top of his jeans. Our tongues slide together, and my fingertips curl around the top of his waistband. I’ll do the one thing I know will end it. It helps that he’s so slim. My hand goes easily inside the front of his pants. One gentle pull…

Jordan jumps back like he’s been shocked. “What—what are you doing?”

Anger registers on his face. It’s like a knife in my gut, but this is what he needs to see.

“It’s what you want me to do. What comes next.”

He adjusts his pants roughly. “We talked about all this in my room.”

“And you didn’t hear a word I said.” I turn away from his anger to the door. “Thanks for the movie, Jordan. I’ll see you at school.”

But he doesn’t leave. “I’m praying for you.”

I almost laugh. “Oh yeah? Good luck with that. But take it from me, I spent six months praying, and it didn’t change a damn thing.”

I step into my house, but before I can close the door, he catches my arm, stopping me.

“We’re still friends, Ashley. If you need to talk to me about your dad or whatever. If you’re feeling sad, I’m here.”

Painful tightness. Difficulty inhaling. I slip my arm away and push the door closed.

Chapter 8

Mom never came out of her room once I got home last night, and after lying in bed feeling rotten and angry and fighting tears, I finally fell asleep after midnight. My phone vibrated a few times, but I didn’t even look at it. All I wanted to do was think about Jordan, remember his kisses and his arms around me and how good it all felt. Like I was punishing myself in some kind of weird way.

In the morning, I pick up my phone to see the texts were all from Mandy, and they all consisted of capital letters describing her make-out session with Colt. I frown at the idea of him kissing her—everywhere, according to my phone. I frown again that she texted me about it. Then I remember kissing Jordan. What I did.

Whatever. I’m not looking for a boyfriend. Colt said we’re dating now. He called me his partner in crime. Neither of those equals boyfriend, unless we’re Bonnie and Clyde, and I know how that ended.

One more sip of coffee, I slip on my white gym shorts and a light blue tee, and run out the back door. I’m down the side of the house and over the low stone wall in no time, climbing the little hill to my spot by the creek. The moment I hear the water trickling, I drop to my knees and fall against the tree. The tightness is holding me so hard, I move to lie on my stomach and stare at the water. Minutes tick past, and I study it, listening, forcing myself to inhale the scent of cut grass and fighting my thoughts that keep trying to go to Jordan.

Before long I hear the sound of labored breathing. I knew she’d come, and I need to see her. Huffing and puffing, Charlotte makes her way up the hill and sits down, smiling up at me with her pink, glistening cheeks.

“You look terrible,” she says in her high voice once she’s settled herself.

My laugh sounds more like a bark. “Thanks. I feel pretty rotten.”

“I heard the luau was shut down because Trevor Martin spiked the punch. Did you drink too much?”

I bite my lip on telling her the truth. I’m not sure how far I can trust my secret friend. “Maybe.”

“Did Jordan?”

“No. At least I don’t think he did.”

“You weren’t together when it happened?”

I shake my head and pull a blade of grass, remembering how it all went down. “He got cornered by Tina. She was dancing with him.”

“I really like his new haircut, and I guess you’re rubbing off on him. He’s dressing better, too.”

“Maybe.” I also don’t mention our makeover-turned-make-out date. “I think he just started paying attention.”

“Since
you
started paying attention. He’s hot.”

I study her, wondering how she could ever hope to catch Jordan’s eye. What would it take for him to notice her?

“We’re not going out again,” I say, hoping to end this awkwardness between us. I want Charlotte to comfort me, not confront me.

“Why not? You seemed pretty into kissing him last night.”

My mouth drops open. “How did you know about that?”

“I was walking my dog when you got home.”

“That seems convenient.”

“It was early. Trust me, I didn’t want to see it.”

I wonder how much she did see. I bite my lip and inhale deeply. “I’m sorry. I’m sure it hurt.”

“He’s really into you, too.” She looks down at her hands. “But of course he is. They all are. What’s that like, Ashley Lockett?”

The anger in her voice hurts me, and I just want to go home now. It’s all getting spoiled. “I don’t know,” I whisper. “It just is.”

“What kind of answer is that? You’re not being ugly-honest like you said you would.”

My eyes go to hers, and I see that bitterness again.

“It’s confusing,” I say.

She presses on her knees and moves to all fours. Then she slowly works her way back to standing. “I need a break from this.”

I jump up and go to her, catching her arm. “Wait—why did you come here if that’s all you had to say?”

“I just wanted you to know I know. I saw.”

She pulls her arm from my grip, but I shake my head. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. You knew we were going to the luau together.”

“And you knew how I felt about him.”

“That’s not fair! It’s not like you’re ever going to go out with him.” I bite my lip hard then.

Charlotte’s eyes narrow, and I see them flash with real anger. “So why worry about my feelings?”

I step forward as she turns to go. “No! I didn’t think that. I wasn’t thinking about you at all!”

“You never do.”

“Oh!” I growl, clenching my fist. “You’d like to believe that, wouldn’t you? But it’s not true!” I sit down hard and turn my back, pushing my shoulder against the tree. “You don’t understand anything.”

She doesn’t stop, and I don’t move as her loud breathing grows fainter until she’s gone and I’m alone again.

* * *

Mom refuses to let me stay home from church the next day. After lying in bed all Saturday afternoon, I expect her to accept my illness excuse. One hand on my forehead and she declares me well enough to go.

“What if I throw up all over the congregation?” I argue.

“Then I won’t have to convince them you need prayer,” she returns, going to my door. “Ten minutes.”

She closes the door, and I throw my pillow hard across the room. Prayer. I flip onto my stomach and see my neglected phone on the floor. I pick it up and I have three missed texts—all from Colt. My brow creases. How did he get my number?

My finger misses you
, says the first one.

Circles are my favorite shape
, says the second.

And finally,
Toilet paper can be fun
.

I frown at the last one. The first two are clearly innuendo, with the first I’m sure referencing our finger dance at the movie. The second makes my face hot, but the last one doesn’t make sense. I don’t have time to think about it. Mom’s yelling from the kitchen, so I throw back my covers and stomp across the hall, slamming the door.

* * *

Outside the large, white building my eyes travel all the way to the top of the steeple. I think about how this church is built to look just like something out of an old movie. Probably a movie like
To Kill a Mockingbird
, which we watched at school. I’m sure we’re supposed to look at this building and be inspired, like there’s something in here that’s going to save us from being unjustly accused by a white-trash girl trying to have us executed to hide her guilt. Like some tall, powerful white man is going to come and save our souls with his inspiring words. Like we’re not all in this on our own and luck isn’t the only thing that matters.

I stand by my vow. It’s over. I’m only here because I’m being forced
.

Will stayed in Glennville, and I wonder how he gets an out while I have to go. Mom leads me inside. She’s in a white linen dress with a matching short coat. It looks like something she might wear to a spring tea. I chose red—the brightest red dress I own, with a full, swishy skirt. Naturally, the first person I see is Jordan. His eyebrows go up, and my stomach clenches. I look away fast. The last thing I want is him thinking I’ve had a change of heart or that his prayers were somehow answered. He got the message loud and clear Friday night about what I believe, and I suppose this red dress is just more proof of my position.