Junk Miles (19 page)

“
That’s what you want for me?” I asked. “Experience?”

“
Yes.” She wiped under her eyes quickly. “Is that so wrong of me? Did something happen with Jake?”

I wanted to tell her, but there was too much liability in sharing. “He and I took a break. My idea.”

“
I’m sorry, honey,” she said in a voice that wasn’t really sorry.

“
Did my father try to contact me? Or you?” I asked.

“
He was engaged by the time I was eight months pregnant with you. Robert Byron married Marcia Jellet when you were just about six months old.” She looked at me, blinking hard. “I could deal with him rejecting me, Brenna. But
no one
rejects you.” Her eye had that lovingly maniacal gleam that always takes the angry wind out of my sails.

I couldn’t be mad. Even if Mom had tried to make this all happen, had taken me from Jake and brought me here in the middle of winter break, she didn’t call him and end it. She didn’t push me into Saxon’s arms. She didn’t say or do anything on the level of what I said and did.

In the end, I had to learn that as good as my parents’ intentions might be, I was still the one living my own life. And I had to be big enough to admit my own mistakes.

“
Thank you, Mom.” I took a deep, shuddery breath. “I know it sucked to talk about him. I just needed to know some basics. Trust me, I have no desire to meet this guy.”

Mom smiled and picked up her fork again.

We ate and made small talk, and back at the dorm, I felt such a strong pull to call Jake that I almost couldn’t keep my hands off of my phone. But every time I picked up to call, I felt like an ass.

What was I supposed to say?
I messed up, Saxon’s more trouble than he’s worth, wanna date again?
Any way I spun this, I was the jerk, and Jake had no business being with me.

But complete inactivity wasn’t my thing either, so I went online and stalked him a little. His Facebook picture was just him next to his dirtbike again. I felt my throat close up. What had I expected?

There were no more installments of the “Gone” photo album. That was a little bit of a relief. I deserved to have it thrown in my face, oh I totally deserved it and much worse. But that didn’t mean I wanted to see it.

The next day we toured the Impressionist Museum and hit the Salvador Dali Museum. I stayed far away from Saxon, who tried to corner me and talk to me at every turn. I kept my camera clicking and avoided him as best I could. But things slowed down after that. A week in Paris isn’t remotely enough time to see anything. The day after was New Year’s Eve. Paris was closed down, and so were we. The professors had stocked up on food and drinks and we were planning our own big bash. We would be leaving for America on the second of January. Mom and I cooked all day, napped, and I made a good dent in
Crime and Punishment.
Nice and depressing.

When it was almost time for the party, I changed into my scarlet silk, even though the last time I had worn it was on Christmas with Jake, and so it felt nostalgic and made me unhappy. I put on my heels and twisted my hair up. Mom and I gathered our food and headed down to the large student lounge. Someone had already turned on the television, and MTV France was broadcasting, with bands and cheering people wearing shiny hats and jumping around, cold and happy.

Last year I had been in Denmark with Mom and Thorsten. I spent most of the night reading a collection of short stories by Karen Blixen, a famous Danish author Thorsten absolutely claimed as a relative. When it got close to midnight, we bundled up, went on to the porch, lit sparklers, and drank champagne. I only had one glass, but Thorsten and Mom finished the bottle and spent the rest of the night dancing, wrapped around each other.

“
Why the long face, Blix?” Saxon sidled right next to me, looking so good.

“
I just broke up with this really big jerk.” I smiled sadly. “Oh, and I broke up with this really nice guy, too.”

“
So, you’re single?” His eyes crinkled with his smile. “You look smoking hot.”

“
You, too.” There was music on, over the blare of the television. Frank Sinatra crooned, and Saxon held his hand out.

“
Dance with me. Now that you’re a sexy single woman.”

I let him pull me over to him. Saxon, strangely, could dance like Fred Astaire. I was pretty far from Ginger Rogers, but I was on par with a fairly good
Dancing with the Stars
contestant. Since Saxon led, I could suck up his excellent moves and pretend they were my own.

“
You’ve got skills.” I smiled when Saxon dipped me.

“
Lylee put me in classes when I was a kid.”

I laughed when I imagined little Saxon ballroom dancing. He twirled me and pulled me back into his arms neatly. “Not bad, Blix. You’re good at following my lead.”

“
I’m supposed to. This is ballroom dancing,” I pointed out.

“
Don’t make excuses.” He whirled me around dizzily. “You just like following a big strong man.”

“
If there was a guy like that around, I might follow him.”

We smiled. I laid my head on his chest as we swayed back and forth. “Talk to Jake recently?”

“
No.” That one single word vibrated with emotion.

“
Maybe you want to hook back up with me?”

“
Saxon, I was able to stand you for two days. That’s it. I don’t think it’s going to work.” I looked at him, and he smiled his wide, cocky smile.

“
I don’t really feel like this little experiment helped get you out of my system. Maybe we need to do a little more experimenting?” His voice slipped over my ears.

“
I thought about that.” I looked up into his devastatingly handsome face.

“
And?” he pressed eagerly.

“
And I think we’re never going to get out of each others’ systems. Being attracted to you is like having lead poisoning.”

He pulled me closer. “Your flattery kills me. So you’re blaming me for poisoning you?”

“
Exactly. Once you ingest lead, it’s never gone from your system. Remember all those Roman Caesars who went crazy? Lead poisoning. Incurable.” I leaned my head on his shoulder again. My personal poison.

“
So I’m in there forever.” He pressed one large, warm hand to my heart.

I moved his hand down to just over my liver. “I think you’re actually here.” Then I raised his hand to my head. “And here. And the damage is permanent.”

“
So your crazy will never go away?”

“
No thanks to you,” I grumbled.

“
So what do we do about it?” He put his nose close to my neck and breathed in deeply.

I didn’t really know the answer to that one. “I think we just stop trying so hard. And keep ourselves open.”

“
Are you going to set up rules for us?” Saxon pulled me to him again.

“
Nope. Remember, you’re half wild. Rules just make you crazier.”

“
So you’re just going to exist in my world and try to resist me at every turn?” His black hair was so shiny I felt like I should be able to see my reflection in it. His black eyes glinted at the new challenge.

“
It’s so typical that you would think of it as your world,” I said, but I didn’t feel any particular anger at him. I was just glad that he and I could be in a room and dance without anything crazy happening.

We spent the rest of the night eating, dancing, playing a really funny game of charades, eating some more, and before we knew it, the old year was almost gone. The adults cracked into bottles of champagne and were giddy and red-cheeked. Soon the countdown was on, and we were screaming the numbers, some of us in French, some in English. Then the ball dropped and everyone cheered and screamed and music played. Mom smacked a wet, happy kiss on my lips, then moved on to kiss the cheeks of all of her coworkers. Saxon was right there once she moved away.

“
Ring in the New Year with me,” he said. “Brenna.”

He pulled me close to him, his hands sliding along the silk of my dress. He pulled me into his arms and put his lips on mine. And for a moment I felt them tremble with his uncertainty. That was sexier by far than any of his aggression or cocky assuredness. If he was always like that…well, I should be glad he wasn’t, because it would just complicate everything all over again. We kissed, softly, fully. I heard him make a noise between a grunt and a moan deep in his throat.

“
Brenna,” he said again, then pulled away and smiled. He looked like he wanted to say something but didn’t know if he should or not. He opened his mouth again. “Happy New Year, Blix.”

I was positive that wasn’t what he wanted to say.

I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Happy New Year, Saxon. Shall we dance?”

We danced amid the still-cheering, laughing, kissing crowds, just two screw-ups, arms entwined, moving to a music no one else seemed to hear.

Chapter Ten

New Year’s Day was another holiday, so we didn’t really have much on our schedules. The entire floor was silent, everyone sleeping in after a late New Year’s Eve, and for some, sleeping off the inevitable hangover from too much celebrating. I was the lone exception to either scenario.

France is six hours ahead of New Jersey. Which meant that at six in the morning, Jake would be ringing in his New Year. In a few short days I managed to unravel everything good between the two of us, but I had learned some things, too. I wanted…I wanted him to know. Maybe I just wanted to hear his voice. I told myself over and over that he wasn’t going to just forgive me and ask me back, but a big part of me was hoping for exactly that.

At five thirty I was up, my eyes open and staring at the white, cracked ceiling above my bed. My stomach churned noisily, a combination of my intestines processing the cheese and champagne from last night and true, fretful nerves. The worst he could do was hang up on me. I tried to tell myself that it wouldn’t be that bad if he did, but I had an awful feeling that I would be crying in a little while.

I only had a few minutes to psych myself out. I wanted to call him before the official ball drop, just in case he had plans. To kiss. Someone else.

I sternly reminded myself that that was exactly what I had done the night before. I had no reason to play the hurt innocent. He could do whatever he wanted now. We were not a couple.

Because of me.

I dialed Jake, and another, worse possibility came to mind. What if he just never picked up? I was so desperate to talk to him that I was ten times more prepared for a confrontation than just nothing.

But he did pick up.

My voice stuck hard in my throat.

“
Jake?” I finally burst out.

“
Brenna.” He said my name evenly, his low, deep voice so good in my ears.

“
I was calling to wish you a happy New Year.” My voice wobbled.

He blew out a long breath. “So you call to dump me a few days ago, and now you’re calling to wish me a happy New Year? There are a few choice things I’d like to say to you, but I’ll stop myself.”

“
Don’t,” I rushed. “I deserve it, Jake. I deserve to hear whatever it is you have to say. Tell me.”

He sighed. “There’s no point, Bren. You and I are done. What is there to say?”

“
Do you, um, regret that we’re broken up?” My nerves made my tongue thick and clumsy.

“
How can I regret it, Bren? It wasn’t my decision.” He sounded irritated, and his prickly tone was so unexpected, I felt my eyes well up again. I hated that he was talking to me that way. He used to choose his tone so carefully when he said something to me. “How’s Saxon?” he asked, his voice thick with accusation.

“
He’s alright.” I swallowed a wave of tears. “We’re not a couple.”

“
Did you really think that would work out for you?” he sneered. “I can’t believe that. I know for a fact that you’re brilliant. That’s why this whole thing is so frigging confusing.”

I grabbed on to the one little compliment, the one glimmer that he was still interested in having me in his life. Plus being confused was good. It meant he didn’t know. It meant he was thinking with a big ‘maybe’ in his mind. “I’m coming home tomorrow.”

My statement hung in the air between us.

“
I hope you have a safe flight.” His voice was perfectly serious because Jake was a perfect gentleman, and he would never, ever be nasty or vindictive the way so many guys would be. “I hope you had a nice New Year’s.” His voice was so cold I almost believed he could see my kiss with Saxon. “Bren, I have to go.”

I heard a voice in the background. Distinctly feminine.

Oh no.

“
Okay. Goodbye Jake.”

He paused and covered the phone while he answered whoever it was. Then he breathed into the receiver. “Have a nice morning, Brenna. Happy New Year.”

The connection was broken and my mind went racing, reading into every little thing Jake said and left unsaid. He said I was brilliant, he said he wanted me to have a safe flight and a happy New Year’s. And I know he meant those things.

But he hadn’t said that he missed me. He hadn’t said that he wanted us to get back together. He had acted a little bit like my call was annoying him.