Almost (34 page)

My chest constricts. “It doesn't matter. I don't think I can… you know…
kiss
and do all that other stuff that's required for the next level. It won't work. I'm like…broken now.”

“Why?”

“I'm worried I'll have some sort of relapse or act crazy if he touches me when I'm nervous. And to hit the next level, I know I would be really nervous because he would be touching my lips with his, right? Hello. It makes me nervous to just say it out loud.”

“Oh. My. God! Yeah.” She laughs.

I blush but continue, “My therapist said with stress and PTSD, anything could happen to me. I would just die if I freaked out or if Gray…if he ever looked at me like…like I was truly crazy. I can take being called a bitch by anyone; but I can't look in Gray's eyes if he believes I'm whacked. I think I'd rather cut and run before the inevitable goes down.”

“But, Jess, he wouldn't! You wouldn't react to him like that! I've seen you wrapped in his arms countless times, and you've looked completely happy about it. I'd never suspect you had any issues. I think you should go for it. Tell him. Or if that's too extreme, take a chance and kiss him once. To find out. Before you decide to walk away, you have to give it a chance. And then—even if you did go nuts—you'd have your first kiss with a boy you really like. So…it's worth it either way, right?”

My heart races at the thought of me just planting one on Gray. “No. I've already sort of flipped out on him once on accident. The look on his face afterwards almost killed me. It's why I backed off. I prefer preventative medicine to public open heart surgery. No way am I going to try and kiss that guy!”

Michelle shakes her head. “You're in love.
Open heart surgery
is how it feels for everyone. And if you're in the stage where you're both still unsure and not committed, it is scary. It also hurts like hell whether you're sane or not.”

“Then, I don't think I can handle love. It feels just awful.”

She laughs. “From the look on Gray's face an hour ago, he wasn't doing so well himself. He and you have matching dark circles under your eyes. You two have it so bad, it's hilarious.” She laughs again.

“Thanks. You suck. But it's not going any farther than this. Not for me. He wants us to be long term friends, and I guess I can consider trying that. But I have to make him understand that friends,
JUST friends,
has to be my max exposure to him. To any guy.”

Michelle grins and leans back, spinning her chair again while staring at the ceiling. “My mom says everyone has secrets—like personal demons—they have to battle. You'll just have to overcome them. I know you can. If you
try
. But it's your choice whether you chose to go to war or not.”

“Pffft. Whatever. What if I'm my own personal demon? How do I battle myself? It's impossible.”

“I'll ask my mom and let you know. Which reminds me, I'm supposed to pick her up. She lent me her car.” Michelle stands to leave. “You're still on for ThunderLand tomorrow, right? I'm driving us. Total score. It's a minivan. Plenty of room for catching up on sleep!”

I smile. Content that she knows I'll probably have to take her up on that offer. “I'm in—if Gray still wants me to go. If Gran's okay, all that. It will be a perfect time for me to talk to Gray.”

She shakes her head. “Don't break my boy's heart. We can't be friends if you do that.”

“I won't. I'm going to let him down easy. I just need him to shut up and listen to me.”

Michelle rolls her eyes. “Blah, blah, blah. You are so far gone over him, you're never coming back down to earth. I'm hoping whatever drivel he put in that envelope will fix things, so you two can patch it up and start making out already.” She winks and pulls a face. “I'm late…if I don't go now, Corey will have to drive us to ThunderLand because my mom will revoke my car privileges. And none of us want to be in that situation.” She bends and looks into my eyes. “You going to be okay? You could come with me…?”

I smile. “No. I'm fine. I think I'll go home and nap so I can be fresh for tomorrow. Thanks for listening.”

Michelle nods. “One day, I'll spill my own tragic,
parents-got-divorced
story on your head. Though next to yours, my story isn't even sad. It was cool of you to confide. Your
secret-demon-monkey-war
is safe with me. I'll never tell. Pick you up at 8 AM?”

I let out a long breath, relieved that I didn't even have to ask her not to tell. “I'll be ready.”

Michelle pauses at the door looking lost. “Point me out of here.”

I laugh and point to the right. “At the end of the hall take two lefts. Follow the exit signs to the top of the stairs.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Jess

When I'm home, twenty minutes later—and safe in my room, I pull out the white envelope and tear into it.

Jess, if you're reading this then Michelle came through.

Sorry about today—and the old-school delivery, but it's all I can do. Gran's good. Don't worry like I know you will.

Maybe it's for the best we can't talk face to face. In a letter, I can say what I need to say without your beautiful eyes distracting me from my point. Like they always do.

And my point is this: It's OVER. I mean the contract, not us.

I never should have signed it in the first place.

I can do college a million ways. I don't want the money this contract brings me anymore. My goals have changed. And not one of my goals will work without you in my life.

You. You
+
Me
.

I'm asking you out. For real. Say yes. Take a chance, even though you'll find out quickly that I don't deserve that chance, or even to be in the same room with you. But I still want that chance…want to be with you. I know you thought I wanted us to be friends. But I don't.

I want more.

Tomorrow. ThunderLand. I'm hoping it will count as our first real date.

I have much more to say, so much to tell you. But I need to be holding your hands, and looking into those distracting blue eyes to say the rest. And yes, as promised, I'm ready to listen to you. But whatever happens, hear me first and…don't hate me after.

Please. Never hate me.

It's wrong of me to ask that favor in this note, because you don't even know what I mean yet. Or why. But…this is GAME ON for me, Jess. And this letter is my first major play to keep your heart forever…so please, remember: Do. Not. Hate. Me.

Play number two is also in this envelope.

Tonight—when you're trying not to sleep—though I wish you would—I'm asking you to think about us. US. Us being together, how good we are as a team. How much fun we have as FRIENDS because despite your stubbornness—we both know we're already that.

God, I wish I could see your face when I ask you this question.

Here goes: Is there a chance you could love me? Even a little?

Because I do—love you. And I think you know that already too.

Either way, no matter what happens tomorrow—I'm not taking any of what is in this envelope back.

Love. Seriously. Love you. With all my heart.

See you tomorrow.

Gray

A second, rectangular shaped, light blue paper is still stuck inside the envelope.

My heart's pounding, and my eyes burn with tears, frustration, anger, and of course absolute longing.

How could I not be dying with
that
after reading what he'd written.

His words change everything.

Unfortunately, they also change nothing. As much as I wish I could accept his words and his love—neither can change me into someone else. Someone different. He has no idea whom he's asking to date. If he did know the real me, he wouldn't have asked in the first place.

A boyfriend, love, and any sort of normal relationship is not for me.

I'm not allowed to have that. If I were, I'd have cured myself long ago.

I pull out the paper and open it. It's a personal check.

From Gray Porter, make payable to: Jess Jordan, the sum of $4,000.00

On the bottom left hand corner, he'd scrawled “internship payback”. I grab my phone and text him, hoping that when he gets out of the hospital where the network can find him, he'd read it immediately.

WTF. No need to stay up all night wondering. My answer holds. No. No. No. NO. I'm not keeping this money. Thanks, but no. To all of it, no. I don't love you. You don't love me. You don't even know me. And you promised you wouldn't back out on the contract. I'll bring the check tomorrow.

###

It's not until much later that night while I'm staring endlessly at the ceiling fan going around and around in my room, that I finally receive Gray's reply:
Home with Gran. All is well. Not taking ‘no’ as an answer from you until we talk. I do know you. And I do love you. You'll see this is right. Be there at 8AM, GF.

Before he can text me again, or worse, call me, I power down the phone without replying.

For the first time all summer, I'm easily able to stay awake all night long.

Because who could sleep when you have a letter like mine to read, again and again?

Chapter Thirty

Jess

“And who's driving,
exactly
?”

My mom's on a roll. She'd been plucking dead leaves off the houseplants and making up random conversations so she can haunt the front entryway while I wait for
the gang
to pick me up.

“Michelle. Michelle Hopkins. She's a good friend. She's driving her mom's new Honda minivan. It has airbags all over it. We'll be perfectly safe.”

“And what time do you plan to be home?”

“The place closes at 8, it's about a two hour drive. I won't be past my 11PM curfew. I promise. Plus I need to wake up early to help with the BBQ, right?” I add that in to keep her focused on the idea that she's going to get what she wants—
tomorrow.

“Yes. Oh, I can't wait to meet your boyfriend. I just can't. I wish you'd invite him in this morning.”

“
That
would spoil the surprise,” I quip.

Kika wanders through on her way to the kitchen. She's heard my last line to Mom. She snorts, once, very loudly, and keeps walking as she tosses me her most scathing glare.

Mom shakes her head and whispers, “I think your sister's a bit jealous. She's been acting very much like a sullen teenager for two days.”

“I heard that!” Kika yells. “YOU BOTH SUCK! If you want to say something about
me
, then say it to my
face.
” Kika slams one of the cupboards.

Mom shoots me a knowing glance. “See?”

I grimace and break Mom's gaze. Thankfully, a very shiny black minivan pulls into the driveway. I bolt for the door. “This is me…oh great,” I mutter. Michelle has pulled all the way down the driveway to our porch. I'd texted her
specifically
to park out on the street. Teenagers—it's true—we never listen. Not even to each other.

“What's wrong?” Mom's followed me out the door. Of course she has.

“I…nothing. I hope Michelle knows how to back up without hitting your flowers. That's all,” I cover.

Corey Nash is sitting up front waving at me like an overly excited seven year old. “Let's go, Jordan! ThunderLand opens in exactly fifty-eight minutes. We ride the Super Splash Ride first.” I smile and wave back like I'm just dying in love.

“Is that
him
?” Mom whispers, smiling at Corey. “He seems
very
cute.”

I answer only half of the question. “Corey's cuter than cute. It's his specialty. Bye, Mom!” I dash down the steps, knowing Mom would try to follow. I leap through the van side door and into one of the bucket seats, but the door keeps doing some electronic self-opening thing when I yank on it to close.
WTF!?

“Drive already! Before my mom blocks the driveway,” I hiss, not caring that the dumb door is still open.

“I told her not to pull in,” Gray says, sounding as stressed as I feel. I shoot him look. He's lounged in the third, bench-like back seat. I'm careful not to let my gaze linger on his intense gaze. Michelle pushes a button up front and the door finally slides closed.

“See you tomorrow,
Corey
!” My mom is waving at the front of the van like a dork.

Corey, thankfully, just keeps waving back. “What did she mean about seeing me tomorrow?”