Page 66 of Jack
“What happened? And what does it have to do with Jenna?”
She made a wry face. “Okay, that might have been an oversimplification of the truth. But it felt real at the time.”
“Still does, it seems.”
“Caught that, huh?”
“Hard to miss the cold front. I’m still shivering.” He winked. “For whatever it’s worth, I remember Jenna being a little demanding, according to Doyle.”
“We were never friends. But one day on the school playground?—”
“Oh no. This is a school-playground story?”
“It is, so hold tight and picture in your mind’s eye two eight-year-old girls having a brawl. Over a swing, mind you. I took her swing; she wanted it back.”
“High crimes and misdemeanors.”
“No statute of limitations on that. I might have been a little stubborn. She had small gang with her, and they surrounded me and demanded the swing back. I said no way, and she said she’d punch me in the stomach. And I stared right at her and said, ‘Do it.’”
“I can see that.” He looked over, winked again.
What—?Oh, if he wanted her heart to stop holding on to him, he needed to stop the winking, pronto. And maybe he could tame those curls a little, shave, and stop smelling like some sun-dappled forest.
Made a girl want to get lost just so he’d find her.
Enough.
“Don’t think I was too tough. Iwascrying at the time. But I refused to move. And I was so scared she’d actually punch me that I got angrier and angrier. I’m not sure who made the first move, me or Jenna, but we were suddenly pulling hair and kicking and pushing and slapping—it was an ugly girl fight.”
“Drama at Duck Lake Elementary.”
“It got worse. They dragged us into the principal’s office and called our parents. Her mom was freshly divorced and my dad came in as my representative, and instead of standing up for me, he said that we both probably needed anger-management counseling.”
“Oh no.”
“Ten weeks of after-school, once-a-week meetings with Jenna as we talked through our feelings and learned how to manage our anger.”
“It didn’t take, I see.”
She laughed. “We didn’t get into any more fights. At least on campus.”
“So, Rocky Balboa, how does your dad leaving fit into this story?”
The way he said it, with the nickname, softened the blow of the question.
Along the highway, the fields glistened under the bright sunlight, the sky a wispy blue. A perfect January day.
Penny, where are you?
“While we met in one room, my dad and Jenna’s mom met in another to learn techniques on how to help us. It turned into coffee, and then one-on-one chats to discuss their wild children. Although I’m not sure they talked at all about us.”
He’d gone quiet, all teasing gone. “I’m so sorry.”
“My mom found out and kicked him out.”
“That’s not on you.” He looked at her. “Or Jenna, really.”
“I know.” She leaned back. “But I was scared. I thought maybe he wanted a different daughter. Jenna was prettier and had better grades—Dad liked good grades—and I thought maybe if I did something amazing, he’d choose me.”