Authors: Amy Sparling
Chapter 14
Five decades seem to pass in the thirty minutes that follow. My crochet loops don't make sense anymore, because all I can concentrate on are the two men on the porch who are talking about things I can't hear. Grandma doesn't appear concerned, but she doesn't know what I know.
What if he found that I deleted his ex-girlfriend's Ipad message? What if he's ratting me out for using his phone and internet? As much as I like Jace, I don't exactly know him that well. He may not be on my side at all.
The door opens and Grandpa comes inside, alone. I try catching a glimpse through the open door but I don't see Jace. "What was that about?" I ask, trying to sound casual. Grandpa isn't fuming mad—or at least he doesn’t look like it.
He takes a seat in his recliner across from where Grandma sits on the couch. "That boy next door sure had a lot to say," he tells her, glancing at me for a split second before returning his gaze to Grandma.
"Did he?" she asks, sounding unconcerned as she continues her crochet. The anticipation nearly kills me, but I can't exactly beg for him to talk faster. I stare at my yarn ball until the fibers get blurry.
"He came over to apologize for being a reckless heathen who disregarded Richard's property."
I lift an eyebrow and peek at him. He watches me as he continues, "Well, those weren't exactly his words, but that's the gist of it."
Grandma smiles. "That's wonderful news, honey. Maybe he won't make your blood pressure go up so much now."
Grandpa snorts and takes a sip of his coffee. "He said he never knew his grandfather and he invited me to come over and take any of Richard's belongings that might have some importance to me. I told him that was awfully kind of him, and that Richard had some fishing poles that were sentimental to me. I'm going over there this afternoon."
I can't help but smile. When I first told Jace that my grandpa didn't like him, I expected Jace to be angry about it. Instead, he came over to apologize. I can't picture Ian doing the same thing, were he in Jace's position.
"What ya smiling for, girl?" Grandpa peers at me over his cup of coffee.
I shrug. "No reason. That was just nice of Jace to do that. He never meant to piss you off in the first place."
"Ladies don't use words like that," Grandma chides me.
"Sorry," I say, trying not to laugh. She'd die if she heard the words I used that are way worse than
piss
. Grandpa must know what I'm thinking because he winks at me.
"That boy is fond of you," Grandpa says. I almost choke on my own spit.
"What do you mean by that?" I stammer.
He shrugs. "He asked permission to take you to the county fair tonight. Seems he probably likes you a lot if he had the guts to ask me." He leans back in his chair while I turn a deep shade of red. "But what do I know? I'm just an old man."
Jace climbs out of his soccer mom rental car and holds the door open for me. I roll my eyes and slip into the passenger seat. "What's with all the formality?" I ask, poking him in the arm when he gets in the car next to me. "You don't strike me as a gentleman."
"Hey now, jerk," Jace laughs. "I may not be a gentleman, but I know better than to show my true colors when a girl's grandfather is watching me through the window."
"What!" I look toward the house, and sure enough, two fingers pull down the blinds in the front window, watching our every move. "I'm sorry about that," I say.
Jace smiles and backs out of the driveway. "If I had a daughter, I wouldn't let her go at all."
"Are you saying you're a bad influence?" I ask him playfully.
"Yep." He reaches over and squeezes my knee. Unlike Ian, Jace doesn't let his hand rise up any further than that. "I am the worst kind of influence. Especially when it comes to all the junk food we're gonna eat tonight."
The county fair is exactly what I expected, despite having never been here before. The fairgrounds share land with the county rodeo, so the air reeks of horse poop and hay bales mixed with the scent of kettle corn and sausages on a stick.
Jace buys two tickets and we get our hands stamped by an elderly woman in a wheelchair. The stamp is shaped like the state of Texas, with a blue dot over where Salt Gap would be. We walk through a barn that's been converted into several vender booths, selling things from handmade cowhide purses to paintings of Indian chiefs to body jewelry. For once, I don't care that I don't have any money. There's nothing worth buying here.
Jace and I walk shoulder to shoulder through the crowds of people who all seem to have their own agenda: the children ride the rides, the men drink beer and stare at the women, the women flirt and laugh and find ways to eat cotton candy seductively. I think I'm the only girl here who isn't wearing cut off jean shorts and some kind of plaid pearl snap shirt.
I glance at Jace in his dark wash jeans and black T-shirt with a fox head logo on it. "I'm surprised they let us in," I say. "We're not exactly the type of people who come here."
Jace takes my hand and pulls me around a blue plastic trashcan that's overflowing with paper food wrappers and beer cans. "Speak for yourself. I'm wearing my genuine leather chaps under these jeans."
I look at his legs. "Really?"
He laughs and leads me toward the carnival game booths. "Better watch out, your gullible is showing."
Jace buys us several rounds of carnival games, despite me telling him they're totally rigged. He throws a dozen baseballs at a triangle of stacked bottles and doesn't hit them once. I lose count of how many rings I throw at a painted red tube, but none of them go over it.
The carnie at the balloon booth calls us over. "Stop lettin' Kevin rip ya off," he shouts over the carnival music. "I'll give ya five darts for a dollar. That way you can win somethin' for yer sweetie."
"I ain't ripping nobody off!" says the carnie at the ball booth as he pockets another twenty dollar bill from Jace. Jace looks at me and gives me devilish smile. "What do you say…sweetie? Want me to win you something?"
"Only if you let me win you something," I retort, snatching a dollar from his hand.
The balloon booth is a lot easier because it's basically just a wall with balloons attached to it, and you throw darts at it. If you pop a balloon, you get a prize in the category of that color balloon. Jace wins a stuffed doll that looks a lot like SpongeBob Squarepants, but for copyright reasons, this one is called Fungi Fred.
The carnie hands the doll to Jace and then Jace presents the gift to me with an overdramatic flourish of his hand. "For you, princess," he says as he bows to me. I take the doll, knowing that it's just a stupid toy, but I can't help thinking that Ian never gave me anything. And I came close to giving him my everything.
I throw my final dart toward the balloons, and hit a yellow one. Yellow is the most abundant color, so my prize choices are from the crappy section. "What's the most embarrassing thing I can get?" I ask the carnie.
His eyes light up. "I know just the thing," he says as ducks under the booth to dig through a box. He returns with an oversized chain necklace with a pendant the size of my face, made of silver plastic. It's huge, like the kind Mr. T would wear. He turns the pendant over in his hand, flips on a battery switch and shows it to us. The word
bootylicious
blinks in several LED colors as Jace lets out a soft, "Oh my god, no."
I take the necklace and place it over his head. "You look beautiful," I say with a wicked smile. The carnie gives me a high five.
Jace leaves the tacky necklace on despite the looks we get from kids and adults alike. I don't know if he would have this much confidence if he were in his own hometown. There's something about being surrounded by strangers you'll never see again that can change your perspective of what's embarrassing.
We head to the scariest-looking carnival ride and take a spot in the long line of people ahead of us. Jace's blinking necklace lights up his face in several different colors. "This is fun. I never expected my self-inflected summer punishment would turn out this great."
"Same here. I thought I would have died of boredom by now." My hand reaches to my back pocket, then to the other one.
"What are you looking for?" Jace asks. I stare at my hand as if it were a foreign body part I only just now discovered.
"I don't know," I say, tapping my pocket again. Realization dawns on me. "Shit, I was looking for my cell phone," I laugh. "Ugh, it's such a habit, you know? I can't believe I'm not over it yet."
Jace pretends to look offended by placing a hand on his chest. "Am I so boring that you need to find someone else to talk to while you're around me? Ouch, Bayleigh. I'm heartbroken."
We move a few places forward in line. "Maybe I'm having such a great time I felt the need to post it to Facebook or something."
He smiles. "That's better."
When it's our turn to ride the PukeMax 5000, Jace hops in the metal carriage and places his harm around the back of the seat. My stomach leaps into my throat at the realization that these carriages are way smaller up close than they looked like from the ground. I squeeze in next to him and we close the lap bar over our legs. His hand wraps around my shoulders.
"Let's aim all puke toward that direction," he says, pointing over my side of the carriage.
I've never been someone who throws up on rides, but with the way his cologne teases my senses has butterflies doing all kinds of acrobats in my stomach. I swallow as the ride cranks to life. I really, really hope the PukeMax 5000 doesn't live up to its name.
Hours fly by when I'm with Jace, and before I know it we've ridden every ride twice and I've eaten more fair food in one night than I have in my whole life. Jace checks the time on his watch. "I promised Ed I'd have you home by eleven," he says. "That gives us time for one more ride. What will it be?"
I look down at the empty tray of what used to be nachos in my hand. "How about something slow?"
Jace leads the way to the Ferris wheel. A sadness falls over me as we climb into the carriage. This was one of the best nights of my life, but the fair only lasts one week.
"What are you thinking about?" Jace asks, once again sliding his arm around my shoulders. Tingles flitter from the top of my head down to my toes. I wonder if he knows what his touch does to me.
"Nothing," I say out of habit as the Ferris wheel lurches forward, abruptly stopping a few seconds later to let the next set of people onboard.
"Doesn't look like nothing," he prods, nudging me with his shoulder.
I shrug. "I guess I'm just realizing that we had an awesome time tonight, but that only makes the rest of the summer sucky because after tonight, there won't be anything fun to do. At the end of the day, I'm still grounded, I'm still stuck here and I still don't have a phone or computer."
"You can't think that way," he says. His hand plays with a strand of my hair behind my back. "Now that Ed doesn't consider me a soulless bastard, I'm sure he'll let you come over. We'll find something fun to do."
Our eyes meet, and I hope we're thinking the same thing. The Ferris wheel stops at the very top. I glance over the side of the carriage and my eyes go wide. Jace leans closer to me and whispers in my ear, "You're braver than I am."
I turn toward him, fully planning on making fun of him for being afraid of heights. But the moment my head turns, his lips catch mine in a soft, slow kiss. The carriage lurches forward and Jace slides his hands behind my head, holding me steady as we swoop downward through the air. I lean into his kiss. His lips are warm compared to the cool breeze dancing across my face as the Ferris wheel makes another loop.
Chills prickle down my arms as his hand slides down my neck and wraps around me. His tongue parts my lips as he deepens the kiss, his mouth tasting like the best kind of cotton candy. A tiny sigh escapes me and I feel him smile under our kiss.
He pulls away when the ride decelerates a few minutes later, leaving my whole body flushed. I know I'm smiling like a dork but I can't help it. Our carriage comes to a stop and Jace taps my nose with his index finger. "You're cute when you're flustered."
Chapter 15
Jace's car is gone the next morning. I really don't want to be the kind of girl who waits around like a madwoman, wanting to know where her crush is at all moments. But when I have nothing else to do, I can't help but at least wonder where he is. After last night, I really don't think he's in LA begging for his ex-girlfriend back. At least I hope not.
I finish my gigantic granny square crochet when it's big enough to be a comfortable throw blanket. Grandma is incredibly impressed and teaches me how to add tassels around the edges. It sounds easy, but measuring and cutting a thousand strands of yarn actually takes a while. But even when I finish several hours later, Jace hasn't returned.
I spend the rest of the day in my room, completely alone. Ironically, I've never known the true meaning of alone until today. All those nights I spent lying in my bed at home, staring at my phone waiting for Ian to text me back—those nights were lonely. But I wasn't alone. I had friends like Becca who would stay up all night on the phone with me while I cried about Ian and repeated our entire conversations over again for analyzing. I had a computer that was just one click away from Facebook, where I never felt alone.
Now I have an uncomfortable twin bed with unfamiliar sheets, a shelf of snow globes and a suitcase of clothing. This is alone.
I wish I could ground my brain from being my brain, for just one day. Just once I'd like to be a normal person with normal thoughts and no Bayleigh-boy-crazy-obsessive thoughts. I shouldn't care that two days have passed and Jace hasn't returned. So what if he kissed me that night on the Ferris wheel? So. What.
Ian ditched me all the time. I was a fool to think anything would be different this time around. Different guy maybe, but the same situation. Same soul-crushing heartbreak that leaves me feeling worthless.
At least I can make someone happy. Grandma thanks me for the third time for washing the dishes and sweeping the floor. It feels good to be appreciated, so I spend all morning finding things to do around the house. It's weird how these same chores feel like backbreaking hard work at home when Mom's yelling at me constantly to get them done, but here with Grandma, it feels rewarding to help out. It's hard to believe that my mother and Grandma are actually related. Maybe my mom was switched at birth with some mean woman's baby.
When the house is as clean as I can make it, I head back to my room and sit on the balcony in the warm summer air to work on my tan. At least, I tell myself I'm working on a tan but what I'm really doing is staring longingly into Jace's back yard, staring at piles of dirt that haven't been touched in days.
Grandma yells my name, jolting me back to reality after I had almost dozed off. I scramble to my feet, still wearing cut off jean shorts and a bra since I didn't bring a bathing suit, and run to the top of the stairs.
"Did you call me, Grandma?" I ask, jogging halfway down the stairs. I swing on my arm around the banister and come to a dead stop when I see the living room. Grandma stands by the front door, her mouth open in horror as Jace stands next to her, his hands in his pockets and the world's biggest grin on his face.
"Bayleigh!" Grandma says.
I freeze. Jace lifts an eyebrow and peers at me with shameless delight.
"Shit," I snap, feeling the blood rush straight to my face. "Sorry, um—" I stammer, unable to take my eyes off Jace. "I'll be right back!"
"You'd better," Grandma says as she shakes her head in disapproval, but I swear I see a small grin cross her face. I spin on my heel and run back up the stairs. "Your visitor wants to take you to dinner," Grandma calls up after me. "Please dress appropriately."
Dinner
? Hearing that word almost makes me forget about the unspeakable embarrassment I just endured. Jace wants to take me to dinner! And he asked Grandma! My heart does somersaults in my chest as I dive into my room and close the door behind me. I pull open my suitcase and dig through my clothing, trying to find something perfect for a dinner in Salt Gap, Texas.
I pull on a tight pair of jeans with intricate stitching on the pockets and a black tank top with silver sequin decorations along the neckline. My hair is a windswept mess from being on the balcony so I pull it into a ponytail and apply some sparkly lip gloss. This is by far the fastest I've ever gotten ready for a date.
My hand shakes when I reach for the doorknob to make another trip down the stairs. At least I'm fully clothed this time, I tell myself, but it doesn’t exactly take away my nerves. At least Grandpa wasn't around to witness my near-streaking incident. I would have dropped dead from mortification.
I take a deep breath at the top of the stairs and try to look casual and unaffected by what happened even though calm is the total opposite of what's running through my mind. When I reach the bottom of the stairs, I find the living room empty. Grandma's voice echoes from the kitchen so I follow the sound and find Jace standing next to her by the refrigerator. Grandma points to a photo of me on my thirteenth birthday.
"She was in love with Justin Bieber, let me tell you," Grandma says, tapping the picture of me wearing a Bieber T-shirt and a collection of Bieber stickers decorating my arms and face. "That girl was crazy about him. Of course now she acts like she's too cool for that kind of music, but you know how kids are."
"Grandma," I groan, entering the kitchen and grabbing Jace's arm. "We don't need to tell him my life story," I say as I tug him away from the embarrassing display of my childhood.
"Oh I'm quite enjoying it," Jace says. I tell him to shut up and Grandma laughs all the way back to the living room.
Jace opens the car door for me once again, and I slide into the passenger seat. A girl could get used to this. You know, minus all the embarrassing stuff beforehand.
"So, where are we going?" I ask, leaning my head back against the headrest and noticing a sunroof for the first time.
"There are literally no good restaurants in town. And I know because I've been to every single one," Jace says, buckling his seatbelt. I smell his cologne when he pulls his car door closed. It smells so great it makes the butterflies in my stomach fly on overdrive. "So I was thinking we'd head out of town and hit up this steakhouse."
"Out of town? Like how far?" I ask, still staring at the sunroof. "I'm not sure what my curfew is or anything."
"I've got it taken care of." Jace looks at me and then reaches up to the sunroof and pulls back the cover, revealing the evening sky. "There you go."
I smile and close my eyes as the warmth beams down on my skin. Jace inhales a breath and I roll my head to the side to look at him.
"I've had one hell of a time," he says, reaching up and brushing a fallen strand of hair out of my eyes. "But seeing your pretty face takes all of that away."
A million questions run through my mind but I don’t ask any of them because I don't want to come off as obsessive or annoying. I mean, I'm definitely not complaining that the first thing Jace does when he gets home is take me to dinner, but an explanation for where he's been would be nice.
We approach a red light on the way out of town and I realize this is the only red light in town. Salt Gap is freaking tiny.
"Finally," Jace says as he comes to a stop.
"Finally what?" I ask, right before he leans over the console and presses his lips to mine. Electricity jumps through my body, and the peppermint taste of his lips have me hoping mine taste just as pleasing to him. "Glittery lip gloss," he says with a smile as he pulls away from the kiss, his lips almost as shiny as mine.
"Sorry," I mumble.
Our eyes meet for a fraction of a second before he leans in and kisses my neck, sending chills down my body as he leaves a trail of glitter from my ear to my collarbone. My toes tingle at his touch. I reach up and grab his shoulders, pulling him closer to me.
A car honks behind us. He pulls away slowly, kissing me on the lips once more before putting his hands back on the steering wheel. The light is green.
"Whoops," Jace says with a smile as he steps on the gas.
Our waitress is pretty, and Jace doesn't ogle her or watch her ass as she walks away. I like that.
"So how's your knitting thing?" Jace asks, grabbing a roll from the middle of our table. He smears way too much butter on it with his butter knife.
"You mean crochet?" I ask.
He shrugs. "It's the same thing, right?"
I laugh and tear off a piece of my roll. "I
crocheted
a blanket, and it's pretty awesome. But knitting is so not the same thing. I'll let you slide this time, but don't let Grandma hear you talk like that."
He pretends to zip an invisible zipper across his lips. After swallowing half of his roll, he says, "So where do you normally live? You know, when you aren't banished to your grandparent's house."
"I'm from a small town near Dallas," I say as a stab of pain hits my heart when I think about home. The realization that the fun I'm having with Jace is just temporary, hurts more than I care to think about right now.
"Does it happen to be Mixon?"
I wrinkle my eyebrows. "Huh? No, I've never heard of that place."
His shoulders sag a little as he takes another bite of his roll. "Eh, I figured as much. No one lives there."
"What's Mixon?" I ask. "You're from LA, right?"
He nods and stares at the glass light fixture that hangs above our table. "Don't worry about it, I'm just…thinking out my options. So," he says, his tone changing from quiet to overly friendly, "How was your week?"
"Well, I learned how to crochet and I made myself a throw blanket. So, obviously my week was insanely action-packed and you should be sorry you missed it."
He smiles. "I missed you. I wish I could have called or something but…" he points a finger at me, "Someone got themselves grounded."
Prickles of nervous excitement dance across my skin when he says he missed me. I open my mouth to say something in reply, but all I end up doing is smiling like some kind of freak. I run my hand through my hair, acutely aware of Jace watching my every move with a look of overconfidence. He knows he's made me feel awkward, and he's enjoying it.
The waitress brings our food, breaking the silence with her southern drawl. I'm starving, in spite of my nervousness and Jace must be hungry too because he finally takes his eyes off me and digs into his food.
"You never answered my question about Mixon," I say after a round of pointless small talk.
Jace gnaws on his lip. "Mixon is a tiny town much like this one, but it's different because Mixon is super famous for its motocross track."
"Oh. So are you going to go ride there or something?" I ask. He shakes his head but doesn't say anything else. I'm having a really hard time not asking him a million questions.
He must sense the frustration I'm trying to hold back because his face softens a bit. "I spent the last few days in Mixon. They were hosting a nationals race, and my agent met me there. He was already going to be there and it's just easier to see him at the race than to fly back to LA for a weekend, even though he assured me that either way I saw him would be pointless."
"Why's that?" I ask.
He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "I guess my career really is over. He claims he did everything he could to get me back in, but no one will allow it. I've been all but excommunicated from professional motocross."
"Excommunicated?" I ask. "That's a thing in motocross?"
He rolls his eyes. "Come on, Bayleigh. Your gullible is showing again."
I kick him under the table. He smiles at me, and it's the kind of smile that he does and no else ever has. It's the kind of smile where his lips press together and his eyes stare straight into my soul, seeming to appreciate what he sees there. His smile fades a moment later. "So anyway, I am slowly coming to terms with the fact that my professional career is over. I don't know what to do with myself. I wanted to come home and break a bunch of shit, but I knew seeing you would make me feel better."
"Are you moving back to LA?" I ask.
"I'm not
moving
back there. I live there. My home is there."
My heart cracks in half. "Oh," I say quietly, moving my fork around on my plate. I'm not hungry anymore.
Jace asks if I want to hang out at his house after dinner. I agree even though it feels pointless because he'll be gone soon. I know I should make the best of the time we do have, but, in the end it's all just a big waste of emotions. I like Jace. Jace is leaving. End of story.
I rest against his shoulder on the couch while we watch TV, his hand holding mine while his thumb traces circles on my palm. His phone rings and he pulls it out of his back pocket. "It's my mom," he says, getting up from the couch. "I'll be back in a second."
He ducks into another room to answer her call and I go to the kitchen to grab a drink. I hear him talking about his uncle's unruly dogs and something about obedience training. The shiny surface of Jace's Ipad seems to call to me from the kitchen table. I glance around the corner into the living room but Jace is still in his room on the phone.
Quietly, I pull out a chair and sit in front of the Ipad. There's probably nothing good on Facebook, but I can't help myself. I log in and find three more messages from Ian, each one more desperate and pleading than the last. Why does he care so much about me now? He didn't care when I was there and now that I'm gone, he's suddenly mister romantic?