“Ace! Holy shit. What are you doing here?” I turn to see Jessica Finley and instantly feel the pull on my cheeks as she rushes toward me and wraps me tightly in her arms.
Jess and I have been friends since the first day of kindergarten. She’d been upset about being separated from her older brother Keith, and I’d offered her my M&M’s and the sage advice that chocolate would help. From there we became very close. Once we reached high school, Jess had become friends with the art and drama clique, who never seemed particularly fond of me, and we began spending less and less time together. Even though I haven’t seen her in over a year, since before we each left for college, our friendship never seems to skip a beat between lapses. It’s not because it’s convenient, it’s because we both understand that as we grow up our lives change, and some of those changes have brought us closer, and others haven’t. Ultimately we both know who the other is and share a love and respect for one another that time and distance has never lessened.
“Gosh, it’s good to see you!” I say, scanning her face and noticing a couple of new piercings: one in her nose and one above her upper lip. She has such delicate features that the jewelry only seems to accentuate her beauty, and rather than making her appear like she’s trying to be unique, it just confirms she is.
“You too! Let’s go outside. It’s getting too loud in here. I want to hear how you’ve been!” She takes my hand in hers, and without waiting for a response makes her way through the crowd toward the back door. I follow close behind her, scanning the room for Kendall. It only takes me a moment to catch sight of her, she and her headband of a skirt have attracted a small crowd of admirers but appears to be safe, dancing and giggling with some girls I know from her class.
“Is she totally wasted?” The deep voice startles me, and I turn to see Jameson staring in Kendall’s direction. A grimace painted on his face shows he’s more concerned than annoyed. We’re blocking the entrance of the back door people attempt to enter, so I nod my head toward the yard.
The air has become thicker with cigarette smoke making my lungs constrict in protest. I follow Jess and glance over my shoulder to see Jameson trailing behind us, looking restless.
“Jameson, this is my good friend Jessica. Jess, this is Jameson.” I introduce the two with a wave of my hand.
He lifts his chin to acknowledge her and immediately turns his attention back to the house. “She’s testing you,” I explain, brushing imaginary lint from my right thigh. I don’t know why I feel uncomfortable divulging this information exactly when I want to help Jameson. It’s not as though I’m even stating anything that isn’t fairly obvious, but she’s my sister and my best friend, thus causing guilt to whittle through me, making my hands feel restless like they do anytime I’m uncomfortable. I hardly even realize I’m doing it. Generally they seem to have a mind of their own and absently work to occupy themselves until the awkwardness, or in this case guilt, subsides.
“Why in the hell do you girls play with our heads like this?” he demands, obviously unaware that I’m being a bit of a traitor at the moment—that, or not caring.
“Kendall?” Jess asks, and I nod turning to see her pulling out a cigarette.
“No! You don’t smoke!”
She laughs, ignoring my protest. “Kendall’s trying to see if you’re going to be worth the effort. Ace should learn a little from her.” Jess replies, lighting her cigarette and taking a long pull before blowing the smoke away from us. Her quip about me makes me frown at her, before I turn my attention back to Jameson.
“She’s right; she wants you to fight for her attention.”
“I told you.”
I turn to see Max approaching us, his gaze locked on me, and I sigh in annoyance before I can stop the reaction.
“Max!” Jess cries out his name with adoration, shocking me even more than the cigarette, which she carefully holds out in an extended hand as she gives him a small hug.
How did I not know they were friends?
“Hey, Jess.” He greets her and the warmth in his tone annoys me for reasons I’m not interested in dissecting at the moment. I turn my attention back to Jameson again.
“Blondie giving you some good advice on what to do, or you ready to bounce?” Max asks, as if I’m not a foot away hearing every word that he’s saying. His dismissal intensifies my irritation with him.
“Blondie wasn’t
offering
advice,” I reply snidely. I have to tilt my head up slightly to look at him, and as I do I catch his blue eyes that seem too familiar peering back at me and wonder who he is and what he did with the Max I was introduced to just a few days ago. This conflicting side reminds me that I have no clue who in the hell Max Miller is, regardless of the fact that he’s been my neighbor for the past ten years.
“Max, do you know Ace?” Jess asks, taking a drag of her cigarette. I know her well enough to realize she’s trying to diffuse the situation because I also know she knows me well enough to realize I’m pissed.
Max nods, raising an eyebrow as if the answer is apparent.
“Obviously not very well,” Jess says, tapping the end of her cigarette with a delicate finger. She eyes me and I see her silently prepare me for what she’s about to say, warning me that she’s about to compare me to one of my sisters, something I despise. “Kendall’s the spitfire, Ace is the chill one.”
“Nate hit on me,” I explain quietly. She knows the history. “Max thinks I should just sleep with him, to make things
easier
for myself.” Sarcasm drips from my words.
“What in the hell’s wrong with you?” Her hand flies out, making contact with his chest. “Just because she’s nice doesn’t mean she’s going to take your shit! And why in the hell are you trying to set anyone up with Nathan Hudson? You hate him.”
I don’t bother to allow Max to respond, I’m not sure I want to hear it after all that I’ve heard him say tonight. “Thanks for defending my honor,” I tease, batting my eyelashes several times before she rolls her eyes at me and grins, “but I should check on my spitfire sister, make sure she doesn’t need a reminder on her limits. Plus, if she finds out I’m being all Benedict Arnold, she’ll take her vengeance out on my shoes.” I turn to Jess. “Call me, I want to see you again before you head back to New York.”
“Hell yes! You’re one of the few people I was hoping to see. I’m just shocked to see you here of all places.”
“Yeah, I’m still paying an old debt, otherwise you wouldn’t have.” I wrap my arms around her, and the lingering scent of cinnamon that always seems to follow her tickles my nose.
“You should quit with the cancer sticks,” I say, raising my eyebrows as I watch the toe of her black heel rub it into the cement. “You’re too pretty, and you’ve got a great laugh without the guttural cough.”
“I’m working on it,” she says with a grin.
I smile and turn to Jameson. “She may be a spitfire and a pain in the ass at times, but she’s worth it.” I give him my best reassuring smile as I gently squeeze his forearm in an attempt to convey my honesty, then glance over to Max and see he’s looking at me like I’m some complicated math equation to solve. Apparently I seem to confound him as much as he does me. I force myself to give him a small smile before walking back toward the house and catch the faint scent of Max that makes my body feel all too aware and slightly buzzed.
“I love your pants, Ace. They make your ass look amazing!” Jess calls.
“Stop, you’re making me blush.” I shoot her a wink before turning into the house.
Kendall’s moved on from dancing and is now playing beer pong with her friend, Chelsea, against two boys that I don’t recognize. Her glassy eyes and vulgar language confirm she’s had way too much to drink.
I tease and flirt with the boys and eventually convince them to quit the game early. Thankfully Kendall doesn’t object when I lead her to the door. Instead, she links her arm with mine and leans into me.
“He didn’t fight for me, Ace.” Kendall pouts as we step into the warm evening air that feels cool against my skin after being in the sardine-packed house.
“I think he was a little caught off guard.” I take the half-filled plastic cup she still holds loosely in her hand and set it on the edge of a large planter box that’s already adorned with several other half-full cups.
“He doesn’t like me.” She whines. Kendall doesn’t take rejection or even the idea of rejection well. Drunk Kendall takes it even worse.
“He likes you. You’re just turning him in circles. I don’t think he knows which way is up right now.” I don’t know why I’m even wasting my breath arguing with her. I know she won’t remember any of this by tomorrow and we’ll be having this same conversation, but hopefully this will pacify her and she won’t be a cranky, crying mess for the trip home.
“You really think he likes me?” Her voice lilts with hope.
“I do,” I say confidently, neglecting to mention that I’d spoken to him and confirmed the fact.
As we head down the driveway, Kendall clings to my side for support and veers us both to the right as she clumsily staggers forward.
“I also think these shoes are really difficult to walk in with you when you’re drunk.” Kendall giggles, tightening her grasp on my waist.
“Those are great shoes,” she says with a sigh, leaning her head on mine and supporting more of her weight on me that has us turning further. “I love you too, Ace.”
“I love you too.” I grunt as I maneuver her back to the left, narrowly avoiding her trampling into the flower beds lining both sides of the driveway.
“I’m glad you’re breaking up with Eric. He doesn’t deserve you.”
To avoid responding, I tell her to be careful as we reach the edge of the driveway where some loose gravel slides under our feet.
T
he familiar scent of slightly burnt toast cooked the way my dad prefers it greets me, along with his smile, as I enter the kitchen the next morning. I kiss his cheek before taking a seat beside him, and he slides me the cup of coffee waiting for me.
“Did you have fun last night?”
I wrap my hands around the warm mug bringing it to my mouth, desperate for the caffeine. I’m tired enough both mentally and physically that I can’t seem to muster an adequate response, so I nod and give a shrug to convey my indifference. Normally I’d still be sleeping after staying up so late, but Kendall had fallen asleep in my bed last night and woke me up talking in her sleep. I tried to go back to sleep, but Max’s accusation ran through my mind like a pinball, causing my brain to go into overdrive trying to process thoughts and fears.
We sit in silence for a moment, my mind still at half speed as I practically gulp my coffee.
“I heard Sharon say Max went to the party you guys were at last night. It’s nice you guys are finally spending some time together after all these years.” I avoid looking at him as I place my empty mug in the sink, hoping he’ll change the subject as I focus entirely too hard on tying my shoes. “He’s a nice looking guy—”
“Have a good day, Dad. Love you.” I stand up, pressing another kiss on his cheek before making my way out the front door, not caring that I’m being rude. The last thing I want to do is discuss Max’s attractiveness, especially with my dad.
I stretch my legs and arms and sigh realizing that in my haste to get my things out as quietly as possible so I didn’t wake Kendall, I left my iPod. I don’t have Zeus as a distraction this morning either. He was passed out along the foot of my parents’ bed with my mom, and I felt too guilty to disturb either of them.
Finishing stretching, I set off through the neighborhood in the direction of the track, quickly finding my stride. Once I do, the only sound that fills my head is the soft
thump, thump, thump
of my feet, soothing my mind and body as I get lost in my trance.
It lasts for about fifteen minutes, until my phone starts chirping, indicating several messages. Believing it’s too early to not be something important, I pause and pull my phone out of the hideous waist clip my dad insists I wear while I run and glance at the screen to see four text messages from my sister Jenny.
Jenny: Sorry, I know it’s early, but I was omw out this morning & saw Eric
Jenny: W/ a girl …
Jenny: A girl that wasn’t u.
Jenny: They weren’t doing NEthing, but it seemed really strange. Sorry, Ace :( Call me. I love u 2.
I release a deep sigh of annoyance. I need to get this over with and call things off, especially if he’s seeing other people behind my back.
In an attempt to clear my mind, I continue on my course and seek the peacefulness that usually consumes me when I run. It seems completely elusive as my thoughts dance from one point of stress to the next, causing my muscles to tighten and me to break stride. I attempt counting my steps to focus. When that doesn’t work I begin counting my breaths and reach the same failed outcome. I dig deeper, pushing myself. I want to feel my lungs burn, feel the pulsing of my heart and fluidity of my muscles that confirm I have control. That if I exert enough energy, I’ll feel the same expected outcome. I feel nearly desperate for the assurance.