Jesse's Girl
Page 58
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Meeting her was Christmas, on a sunny September day.
Her lights, her smile, I want to celebrate her every day.
I waited for her, for her twinkling voice.
Waiting for her, waiting for Christmas.
By the time Jesse finishes the song, a tear is rolling down my face.
“Max,” Jesse says, drumming his fingers on the bridge with one hand, touching the tuners with the other. He finds my eyes. “I think I’ll take her.”
• • •
I take a deep breath and knock. A few seconds later, Sam opens the front door.
“Hey, My, what’re you doing here?” He peers over my shoulder into the driveway. “And why are you driving Mom’s car? Where’s your bike?”
“Long story. Can I talk to you?”
He gestures for me to follow him inside to the dining room, where I find Jordan, her brother Mike, and a pretty lady sitting at the table playing the loudest game of war ever. Each time they slap down a card, the house rattles. Jordan slams down a king to beat her brother’s four, winning the game. She jumps to her feet and dances while Mike grumbles.
“Do you want in the next round?” Sam asks me. “Maybe with four of us, we might have a chance at bringing Jordan down.”
“No, thanks,” I say. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I can come back tomorrow.”
“Maya wants to talk,” Sam tells Jordan.
“C’mon, we’ll talk in the living room,” Jordan rushes to say, and she pulls me and Sam out of the room and to the couch.
“Seriously, I can come back—I didn’t know you’d have company.”
“It’s totally fine,” Jordan says, and in a low whisper, she adds, “I’m trying to fix my brother up with our friend, and I want to give them some time alone. So let’s have a very long conversation about whatever you need to talk about. Please tell me it’s about Jesse Scott.”
“It better not be,” Sam warns.
“It’s not,” I say, and Jordan deflates.
“I saw in Celebrity Examiner that you and Jesse were dating, but now he’s interested in a Greek shipping heiress,” Jordan says. “And now you’re heartbroken and possibly pregnant with Jesse’s triplets!”
“You’d better not be pregnant with triplets,” Sam warns.
“That’d be news to me,” I say, laughing.
“So are you dating Jesse?” Jordan asks.
“I’m not sure. We’re still figuring things out. Jesse wants to take it slow.”
“I understand that,” Jordan says.
“You do?” I ask.
“Looking back, I’m glad Sam and I took things slow, even if it drove me crazy at the time. And even though it sucked, I’m glad we spent a year apart in college.”
Sam nods. “Being single just made us realize we need to be together.”
They stare at each other, very much in love. I hope to feel that kind of love one day.
“So you wanted to talk?” Jordan asks.
I reach into my back pocket, pull out the wrinkled letter from Wannabe Rocker, and pass it to Sam. He looks at the envelope for a long moment before pulling out the letter and unfolding it.
“This is amazing!” Sam shows the letter to Jordan, and then they dance around the living room like they’ve won every football game ever. My brother pulls me into a big hug.
“When do you leave?” he asks.
“I can’t go,” I say quietly.
“Why not?” Jordan asks.
“I thought I could save enough money, but it’s just not happening.”
“Pffft, money,” Jordan says, grabbing up the letter and scanning it again. My brother glares at her. With her former NFL player father, Jordan grew up with all the money in the world, and she’s never understood what it’s like to eat the free lunch at school or buy your clothes at Walmart.
“I’ll give you the money,” Jordan says, and Sam places a hand over hers. Their eyes meet and go to war.
“How much do you have?” Sam asks me.
“About eight hundred dollars. I can buy two plane tickets for that—I need to take a guardian. But I won’t have enough money left for food or a hotel. They’re just too expensive in New York. They’re even expensive in New Jersey. I check online every day, and there’s nothing cheap.”
“Did you talk to Mom and Dad?” Sam asks.
I slowly nod my head. “Dad thinks he can get me a couple hundred, but I hate to do that to him. I would drive instead of flying, but Mom says her car won’t make it, and we can’t afford to buy another carburetor and go to New York too. I wanted to see if I could borrow your truck, maybe.”
Her lights, her smile, I want to celebrate her every day.
I waited for her, for her twinkling voice.
Waiting for her, waiting for Christmas.
By the time Jesse finishes the song, a tear is rolling down my face.
“Max,” Jesse says, drumming his fingers on the bridge with one hand, touching the tuners with the other. He finds my eyes. “I think I’ll take her.”
• • •
I take a deep breath and knock. A few seconds later, Sam opens the front door.
“Hey, My, what’re you doing here?” He peers over my shoulder into the driveway. “And why are you driving Mom’s car? Where’s your bike?”
“Long story. Can I talk to you?”
He gestures for me to follow him inside to the dining room, where I find Jordan, her brother Mike, and a pretty lady sitting at the table playing the loudest game of war ever. Each time they slap down a card, the house rattles. Jordan slams down a king to beat her brother’s four, winning the game. She jumps to her feet and dances while Mike grumbles.
“Do you want in the next round?” Sam asks me. “Maybe with four of us, we might have a chance at bringing Jordan down.”
“No, thanks,” I say. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I can come back tomorrow.”
“Maya wants to talk,” Sam tells Jordan.
“C’mon, we’ll talk in the living room,” Jordan rushes to say, and she pulls me and Sam out of the room and to the couch.
“Seriously, I can come back—I didn’t know you’d have company.”
“It’s totally fine,” Jordan says, and in a low whisper, she adds, “I’m trying to fix my brother up with our friend, and I want to give them some time alone. So let’s have a very long conversation about whatever you need to talk about. Please tell me it’s about Jesse Scott.”
“It better not be,” Sam warns.
“It’s not,” I say, and Jordan deflates.
“I saw in Celebrity Examiner that you and Jesse were dating, but now he’s interested in a Greek shipping heiress,” Jordan says. “And now you’re heartbroken and possibly pregnant with Jesse’s triplets!”
“You’d better not be pregnant with triplets,” Sam warns.
“That’d be news to me,” I say, laughing.
“So are you dating Jesse?” Jordan asks.
“I’m not sure. We’re still figuring things out. Jesse wants to take it slow.”
“I understand that,” Jordan says.
“You do?” I ask.
“Looking back, I’m glad Sam and I took things slow, even if it drove me crazy at the time. And even though it sucked, I’m glad we spent a year apart in college.”
Sam nods. “Being single just made us realize we need to be together.”
They stare at each other, very much in love. I hope to feel that kind of love one day.
“So you wanted to talk?” Jordan asks.
I reach into my back pocket, pull out the wrinkled letter from Wannabe Rocker, and pass it to Sam. He looks at the envelope for a long moment before pulling out the letter and unfolding it.
“This is amazing!” Sam shows the letter to Jordan, and then they dance around the living room like they’ve won every football game ever. My brother pulls me into a big hug.
“When do you leave?” he asks.
“I can’t go,” I say quietly.
“Why not?” Jordan asks.
“I thought I could save enough money, but it’s just not happening.”
“Pffft, money,” Jordan says, grabbing up the letter and scanning it again. My brother glares at her. With her former NFL player father, Jordan grew up with all the money in the world, and she’s never understood what it’s like to eat the free lunch at school or buy your clothes at Walmart.
“I’ll give you the money,” Jordan says, and Sam places a hand over hers. Their eyes meet and go to war.
“How much do you have?” Sam asks me.
“About eight hundred dollars. I can buy two plane tickets for that—I need to take a guardian. But I won’t have enough money left for food or a hotel. They’re just too expensive in New York. They’re even expensive in New Jersey. I check online every day, and there’s nothing cheap.”
“Did you talk to Mom and Dad?” Sam asks.
I slowly nod my head. “Dad thinks he can get me a couple hundred, but I hate to do that to him. I would drive instead of flying, but Mom says her car won’t make it, and we can’t afford to buy another carburetor and go to New York too. I wanted to see if I could borrow your truck, maybe.”
