Page 134 of Jesse's Girl

Me

Not a problem. I’ll put on my big boy pants

Speaking of which…

I need to quit dicking around.

Pulling up the airline’s website, I find the flight I’ve been watching for the past two weeks, waiting for a seat sale. The price has gone down by fifty bucks. As far as airfare goes, it’s a drop in the bucket, but I need to shit or get off the pot. I can leave the morning after the wedding on the early flight.

Fuck it. I’ll sleep on the damn plane.

I tap through the checkout process, forcing myself not to second-guess. If the wedding ends up being a disaster, at least I won’t be sticking around for the fallout.

I pocket my phone and keep walking, climbing a steep hill and pushing through when my leg muscles start to feel it.

I’m really doing it. I’m leaving.

I walk faster, wishing for that familiar burn to consume all my attention—to take my thoughts away from Ada. But I know it won’t; no exercise is intense enough to block her out. I push harder, breaking into a run as I crest the hill.

And I don’t stop.

Running past parks, businesses, and countless houses, I let the rhythmic drum of my footfalls pound through me, the usual numbing effect giving me no relief. I’m rounding the corner to a long path through a park when my phone rings. I slow to a stop and pull it out, cursing under my breath when I see Marcus’ name on the call display.

I brace myself, letting it ring a couple more times before I answer. “Hey,” I say, trying not to sound too out of breath—or too devastated.

“Hey,” he says back. A beat passes. “You okay? You sound like you’re crying or something.”

“Or something.” I run my free hand over my jaw and push my fist against my solar plexus. Blinking in the glare of the setting sun, I turn to pace along the path.

“Look, Jess?—”

“I’m so sorry, Marcus,” I blurt out. “I don’t know what else to say. I know I don’t deserve it, but I hope you can forgive me. She’s your sister, and I…” I trail off, not knowing how to make it right. “So, just… whatever happens between you and me, promise me you’ll forgive Ada. I’d hate to have fucked things up for your family.”

Another beat passes and Marcus’ silence makes me anxious, so I continue. “Anyway, I dunno if it’s any consolation, but… she called it off. After you left.”

“Really?”

I sniff, trying to clear the hot feeling at the back of my throat. “Yeah. Didn’t want to drag things out, with me leaving soon.”

Marcus makes a small sound of understanding.

“I’m outta here on the twenty-fifth,” I add.

“You booked a flight?” Marcus asks.

“Yeah, just now.” My stomach clenches as the reality sinks in. I’d been putting off booking that plane ticket, lying to myself that it was about the cost. But it was always Ada.

I’d been holding onto some ridiculous thread of hope that she might feel the way I do—might ask me to stay. Want me to stay. She’d wound herself around my fucking heart and I was ready to drop everything to be with her.

But now? She’s looked me in the eye and told me point-blank that she doesn’t have feelings for me. I don’t believe her, but I can’t upend my entire life if she won’t even be honest with me—or herself.

“So, anyway,” I continue, “you won’t have to see my face or think about this shit anymore after next week.” This isn’t how I wanted to spend my last days in town, with my best friend pissed at me and Ada shutting me out.

“That’s assuming I want to see your ugly mug at all,” he says.

Ouch.

It’s a low blow—and one I totally deserve. I’ve hurt Marcus. Lied to his face. Fucked his little sister, for God’s sake.