Page 83 of Jesse's Girl
JESSE
My knee bounces as I sit on the couch, waiting for Ada to get home from work. Her words from this morning have been running laps in my head all day.
“Talking is not what’s on my mind when I think about you.”
I need to nip this in the bud.
I’m on my feet the moment I hear her keys in the door. Ada gives me a wary look as she kicks off her shoes.
“Hey, listen,” I start. “Sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to fuck with your head or hurt your feelings.”
She drops her keys into her purse and tosses the bag next to her shoes in the entryway. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m just trying to do the right thing, here. You know, with Marcus last night… We hadn’t even?—”
“Yeah, I know. Just drop it. Whatever.” She moves to push past me, heading to the kitchen.
I step out of her way, careful not to touch her. I should be glad she wants to drop it. But I turn to follow her, unable to stop myself. “You’re doing that thing again.”
She fills a glass of water at the sink, her back to me. “What thing?”
“That thing where you just brush shit off like it doesn’t matter. It’s bullshit.”
She straightens, then slowly puts her glass down on the counter before turning around and crossing her arms over her chest. “What exactly am I brushing off?”
I raise my eyebrows in answer, gesturing generically between us.
“No, Jess.” She unfolds her arms as she steps toward me. “Say the quiet part out loud for once. You’re the one who wanted to talk, so fucking talk.”
“You know I can’t do that,” I say in a low voice. Admitting what’s happening out loud feels wrong. My heart hammers in my chest as she fixes her unyielding gaze on me.
Fuck. I wasn’t prepared for those eyes.
Her voice is quiet when she takes another step toward me and speaks, the words articulated slowly and clearly, like she’s shoving them inside my ribcage, one by one. “He’s not here. It’s just me.”
The silence thickens around us, and the look she’s giving me eats away at my better judgment. The words rise from my stomach, wrapping around my throat. I clench my jaw, hesitating another few seconds before something in my chest uncorks. “Fuck. Fine, you want the truth?”
“Please!” she exclaims.
“The truth is, last week in my room, you got into my fucking head,” I say, stabbing a finger against my temple. “About this place. About moving back. I was never planning to stay for longer than the summer. But now, all of a sudden, I’m imagining these scenarios where I quit my job in Oz and find some way to stick around here, because…”
The admission sticks in my throat. I can’t take the words back once I say them.
“Because what?” She throws her hands out at her sides.
Jesus. She’s really gonna force it out of me.
“Because of you, Ada.”
She sucks in a breath.
For a moment, we just stare at each other. The sinking pull in my gut reminds me that, even if I were to uproot my life, there is no scenario where moving back here works out for me. For us. I press my lips together, shaking my head. “Because I can’t stop thinking about last night, okay? About what would’ve happened if Marcus hadn’t shown up. If I’d never texted him.”
“That’s why you need to go back, Jess,” she says quietly. “I told you, this is too complicated.”
The elephant in the room is starting to take shape.
“Complicated. Yeah.” My brows knit together. I can’t admit to her the idea of leaving is getting harder to swallow every day. I run both hands down my face.