More Than This
Page 13

   “Just my aunt Lisa. She’s my mom’s best friend from college. Otherwise it’s just me.”
   “Oh, sweetheart,” she coos, sitting down next to me and taking my hand.
   “Um, where’s Jake?” I look at the floor, feeling uncomfortable and awkward.
   “He’s downstairs meeting with his agent. He won’t be too much longer.”
   “Agent?”
   “Yeah, he plays baseball. He didn’t tell you?” She looks at me curiously. “Sounds like Jake.” She shakes her head. “Yeah, baseball. He’s kind of a big deal.”
   I don’t say anything.
   “How long have you and Jake been dating?”
   “Oh, we’re not.” I look at her, and she cocks an eyebrow at me. “It’s a long story.”
   “Okay, sweetheart.” She pats my hand. “I’ll leave so you can change and make that phone call.” She gets up and goes to the door. Before closing it behind her, she says, “And please, call me Mandy.”
 
   “Aunt Lisa?” I say the second the phone connects.
   “Oh, honey. Tracey rang me last night. I’m at the airport catching a flight out to you right now.” She sounds like she’s been crying, too. “Just sit tight, Kayla. I’ll be there soon. I’ll take care of everything, okay? I promise.”
   “Okay,” I say quietly into the phone, looking up at the ceiling wide-eyed to stop the tears from falling.
   I hear a soft knock, and Jake pokes his head into the room. I motion for him to come in. He sits down on the edge of his bed and waits until I’m done.
   “I’ll call you as soon as we land, and I’ll try to be there as fast as possible, okay?”
   “Yeah.”
   “Do I go to James’s house or Megan’s?”
   I can see Jake watching me.
   “Um, neither. I’ll give you the address when you call.”
   “Okay, honey.”
   “Aunt Lisa?”
   “Yeah, hun?”
   I turn so my back is to Jake. I don’t want him to see my humiliation. “Do you think you could go to the store on your way here? I kind of have no underwear.”
   “What?”
   “We, um, had prom last night. I wore only my dress—like, only the dress.” I’m beet red. “I need bras and panties, please.” I basically whisper the last sentence.
   “Uh, no problem. Same size as the ones I sent you for Christmas?”
   “Mm-hm.”
   “Okay, hun,” Aunt Lisa says, maybe a bit too brightly. “And Kayla?”
   “Yeah?”
   “I’m so sorry.”
   “Me too.”
   We hang up, and I sit next to Jake. I’m still wearing his clothes. I self-consciously cross my arms over my breasts, so he can’t see my nipples through his thin white T-shirt—though he probably already has.
   He clears his throat. “So, your aunt’s coming?”
   “She’s not my real aunt—just my mom’s best friend. She already found out from their friend Tracey. They were all best friends in college. Aunt Lisa’s already on her way here.”
   He nods.
   “So . . .” I say, trying to find my voice. “Your mom tells me you’re kind of a big deal in baseball.”
   He blushes and looks away. “My mom has a big mouth.”
   Silence.
   “Thank you, Jake.”
   “You’re welcome, Kayla.”
 
 
TEN
JAKE
   Kayla’s aunt Lisa is on her way here, and I guess they’ll need to discuss funerals and things. I’m just glad she’ll have someone around who she’s known for more than two days. I hear her phone going off constantly, but she ignores it every time. I bet it’s James.
   I had to practically kick Ryan, my agent, out of the house this morning. He wouldn’t take no for an answer. Then he saw the swelling and bruises forming on the knuckles of my pitching hand and lost his shit. My dad hadn’t noticed the injury till then, either, so he wasn’t very happy about it, too. I told them what happened, and Ryan told me not to let “bitches” (his words) ruin my dream. That’s when I told him to fuck off—in a nice way. I then came upstairs to check on Kayla. I could think about only her the whole time I was with Ryan.
   I didn’t expect to walk in on her conversation with her aunt. And I couldn’t help but notice that her nipples were poking through my T-shirt. I know, I’m a dick. The girl’s so fragile right now, having just lost everyone, and I’m the creepy perv staring at her tits. I’d punch myself in the face if my hand weren’t so fucking sore.
 
   The doorbell rings, and I answer it to find a tiny woman with a pixie cut on our doorstep. She looks about my mom’s age. She smiles warily at me.
   “I assume you’re Jake?”
   “You must be Lisa. Come in.” I lead her into the family room and gesture at the sofa. “Have a seat. I’ll get Kayla—she’s upstairs.”
   “Thanks, hun. Oh, and give her this.” She hands me a bag—probably of bras and panties.
   I run into my mom on the staircase and tell her that Lisa is downstairs waiting. She leaves to introduce herself. I knock on my bedroom door and open it slightly, peeking in. Kayla’s lying in the middle of my bed in the fetal position, quietly crying. My heart breaks.
   I clear my throat, and she looks at me. She sits up and wipes frantically at her tears. I sit down next to her. She showered and is wearing my mom’s sweats, which are a little small for her. They hug her curves, but this time I don’t look for too long. I cradle her face in my hands and wipe the tears away with my thumbs. I don’t know if she means to, but she leans into my hand a little, and it takes everything in me not to kiss her.
   “Your aunt Lisa’s here,” I tell her. “And she wanted me to give you this.” I hand her the bag. She blushes.
   “Thank you . . . I’ll just go to the bathroom and, uh, dress. Wait here, okay?”
   I nod, because being in the next room while she tries on underwear is going to be fine.
   She’s out within minutes, a shy smile creeping across her face. She sits back down next to me. “I know that I’ve already said this, but I don’t think I can say it enough, Jake. Thank you for being here and helping . . . I need to thank your mom, too—and your dad. I haven’t even met him yet! God, I’m so rude. I just—”