The Best Laid Plans (24 page)

He shook his head, eyes blazing. “You have sex, Jayne. And you are great at it. But sex isn’t intimacy, and it sure as hell isn’t love.”

“What are you saying?” And how had they gotten on this topic?

“Your bed is warm, but when we met – again – your heart was cold. How did you live for so long while being completely dead inside?”

She felt like she’d been slapped with the truth, and wanted to run away, but couldn’t budge an inch. “What does that even mean?”

“Personal experience. I know you. You’re fine hooking up with people, but the second someone tries to take it to another level, to forge a real connection with you, you shut down.”

His words slammed around inside her chest which felt hollower by the second.

“I never shut down! I’m not scared of anything!” The denial felt hot in her mouth, but it was his expression that burned her.

“You only really talk to me when it’s through a phone, Jayne, when you don’t have to look me in the eyes when we talk, and you can hang up on me anytime you want.”

“I open up and talk in person too!”

His face pinched like her denial caused him physical pain. “No, you don’t. We have incredible sex, and then you shut down. But outside the bedroom? You basically had a panic attack when I brought up wanting to spend more time together that didn’t involve sex. You’d have made a rope out of the bed sheets and rappelled out the window if I’d said what I wanted to say.”

God, it was true. “And what was that?” He was drowning her in truth. She couldn’t speak above a hoarse whisper. “What did you really want to say?”

“That I wanted more.” He stepped closer to her. “It’s not just your body I’m interested in. It’s that girl I talk to on the phone. The one who lets me in. I want her in the flesh. I want all of you. That I wanted,
I want
something exclusive. That I want you to be my girlfriend. Maybe more, if you’ll let me in.”

His beautiful words quietly spoken almost crumbled her anger. His pleading, genuine eyes almost convinced her. Almost. “You’re dreaming! I mean, how sad is it that you still cling to the horrors of high school all these years later, Malcolm? Or should I say,
Dylan
.” His flinch registered, but she couldn’t stop the words from coming. “How am I, how is anyone supposed to be with someone who is living in the past, unable to let go?” Even as she said it, her hypocrisy made her blush. Hadn’t she come tonight with the sole purpose of showing everyone up? But the residue of her insecurities made her unable to admit that she wanted him back just as much. It was better to provoke him so they didn’t talk about her intimacy issues anymore.

“I’ve learned a lot about myself in the past few weeks, but more so in the past hour. It’s not the past I haven’t let go of, Jayne. And I won’t let you push me away like you’re trying very hard to do right now.”

His eyes burned her with their intensity. With their sincerity. God, she didn’t want to push him away – she knew he was right. But the beginning mattered the most. What kind of a foundation was that for a relationship? Revenge?

She stepped back. “Unfortunately for you, the choice isn’t yours to make. Goodbye.”

She walked back into the gym half hoping he’d stop her, relieved when he didn’t.

It wasn’t until the door shut behind her that Malcolm realized that he’d been wrong. The beginning
was
what mattered.

Maybe she’d gone back to the reunion to hang out for a while. Maybe she was just getting her purse and saying goodbyes. Either way, he needed to act quickly.

He ran up the steps to the stage, and walked across it. Claire talked into a microphone to the now mostly seated audience, but she stopped when Malcolm strapped on his guitar, turned on the amp, strode across the stage toward her.

“Dylan?”

“Sorry to interrupt, Claire, but I just have to say something. Mind if I borrow … ?” She handed him the mic and whispered, “Go get her.”

“How do you—”

“It’s always about a girl.” She grinned and stepped back, relinquishing the spotlight.

He couldn’t see Jayne. “Is Jane Griffin still here?”

Murmurs and activity near the left rear of the gym answered his question. Squinting against the light, he made out her figure, and someone at her table called, “She’s here!”

He couldn’t speak yet; he didn’t know what to say. So, he started playing The Reason, by Hoobastank. The feeling in the room was electric. Heads were turned to him, turned to Jayne to gauge her reaction to the lyrics. He couldn’t see her expression from there, but he poured his heart into the song, meaning every word, every note.

The applause was thunderous when the music ended, but all he cared about was Jayne. Unstrapping the guitar, and locking it back in the case, he began speaking, not daring to look at her. He felt so exposed on the stage with everyone staring, so he focused on his guitar, and focused on the words in his heart.

“We’ve come a long way from the people we used to be. Some think that it’s the ending that’s important, some think the beginning overshadows it all. Maybe it’s the stuff in the middle. I don’t care what it is, as long as you’re there with me for the journey, but I understand why you can’t get over the beginning.” He stood with his back to the audience, propped his case against his hip. “But you’re wrong about the beginning, Jayne. We started way before you think we did. Our true beginning was on a day in elementary school that you don’t even remember. That day you burrowed deep into my heart and never left.” The crowd murmured. “Our true beginning was pure, and beautiful, and still just as real as anything we’ve experienced together since then. Good or bad, you’ve never known the impact your words and actions have had over my life. I wouldn’t be the same person I am today if you hadn’t been in my life. I’m far from perfect.”

“Bullshit!” a female voice shouted, which was followed by some whistling. Malcolm felt his cheeks grow hot.

“I had another song I was going to sing, but I think that one is better left near the beginning of us. But it was never for anyone else but you. I love you, and hope you’ll give us another chance.” He finally dared to look up.

Jayne’s seat was empty. A couple women pointed to the exit as the door closed.

He had his answer. It wasn’t the one he looked for, but at least he had his answer. He hoisted his guitar, and passed the mic to Claire.

“Why so sad?”

“It didn’t work.”

“Look again, sport.” She pointed toward the backstage stairs.

Jayne leaned against the wall.

Claire leaned in and whispered, “Don’t go far. We have the vote to finish.”

He walked toward Jayne.

She had descended the stairs and moved down the hall by the time he got to her.

“Jayne?”

“What was that about the song?”

“It’s you.”

“I thought you wrote it for the cheerleader.”

He shook his head. “I never got to correct that assumption. It’s always been you, even from elementary school when you stood up to some bullies by the tetherball.”

“That was you too?”

“Yes. I feel like you’ve always been there, protecting me. My Jane. My Muse. My Angel.”

Her eyes widened. “Angel? That song—”

“Was about you. Not Angel Byrd.” He took a step closer, scared shitless she’d push him away, but refusing to keep it inside any longer. “It was about you. Even then. And after. Even when I hated you, I loved you.”

She flinched. “You hated me?”

“I thought I did.”

“And now?” Hope won the battle over her heart and shone through her eyes at him. “Our past is in the past, but it hasn’t changed. Not really. It’s still there.”

“But our beginning isn’t what you thought it was. We’ve changed. Now I know I hated them. Their actions. Their cruelty. You never intended for the things to happen to me the way they did.”

“I didn’t!” Her gaze softened and she closed most of the space between them. “I had no idea that I was the reason you were treated so horribly. I would have tried to do something about it if I’d known, tell them there’d been a mistake!”

He ran his hands up her arms, rested on her shoulders. “I know you would have.”

“But I didn’t notice.” Her mouth twisted into a wry smile. “In case it escaped your attention, high school wasn’t exactly the time of my life.”

“Actually, I guess I didn’t notice.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Ironic. You spent all that time thinking about me, but failed to see that we were
both
in hell. Burning together.”

He pulled her into a hug. Her body was only stiff for a moment and then she clung to him.

He had to ask. “Can you forgive me for lying to you about not knowing each other?”

“I already have.”

“And,” he paused, desperately hoping, “do you, can you ever forgive me for thinking I needed revenge against you for the things that had happened?”

“Maybe the answer would have been different if I hadn’t come here and laid my own past to rest. But I’ve learned that not letting go is one of the worst things you can do for yourself.”

“So … ?”

“I know what we have is real, and you genuinely care about me.”

“I love you,” he reiterated.

“And despite the way our relationship started, I love you too. I mean the new relationship, not high school.”

“Elementary, technically.” She loved him!

She smiled. “I don’t want to lose this. You took out the guy who attacked me, and you were so upset about it. No one is that good of an actor. You taught me how to protect myself.” Her voice trembled.

So did his heart.

He captured her hand, and kissed her palm feeling like he might cry. He couldn’t wait to start a future with her. “And here we are again. I’ve had enough of the past. What do you say we get the hell out of here?”

She leaned back, feigning shock. “What, you don’t want to stay and see who the class votes as most successful?”

“The class can kiss my—”

“There you guys are!” Claire scurried over to them. “The votes are in! You guys missed the big announcement!”

Jayne moved to stand next to Malcolm, slid her arm around his back and smiled up at him. “We got caught talking about old times.”

“We’re heading out. Good seeing you, Claire.” Malcolm lifted a hand in a farewell.

Their old valedictorian’s eyes bugged out like a pug’s. “But don’t you want to know who won the class’s vote as most successful class member?” Malcolm squeezed Jayne and let her pull him toward the exit. Her blue eyes shone and he felt the depth of his gratitude that she was giving him another chance.

Claire took a step after them. “It was a complete landslide majority vote! Aren’t you even a tiny bit curious about who won?”

Malcolm smiled down at Jayne. “We both did.”

I’d love to do something succinct and poetic, like, ‘To my family who are my friends, and my friends who are my family.’ But that’s a bit too broad, and there’s no music to cut off THIS speech!

So here are the specific Thank You’s to the village who raised this idiot:

The Seymour Agency, Nic Resciniti, and specifically Marisa Cleveland, for your tireless work and for always believing in me. I’ve cherished our journey together, and here’s to many more miles.

Georgia McBride, for seeing something you wanted, and going for it. And then making it even better on a whirlwind schedule!

Jessa Russo. *chestbump* I literally don’t know where I’d be in my writing journey if we had never met. You’re such an amazing person, a door opener, a true friend, I wish we had met earlier in life, but I’m so glad you’re in mine now. TWSS.

To my AMAZING Crit Partners for helping shape TBLP into what it is now, and being there every step of the way: Amber Tuscan-Clites, Brandi Lynch, Cait Greer, Carrie Bastyr, Elizabeth Otto, Heather Griffin, Laura Hughes, Tristina Wright, I couldn’t do it without you guys. <3

To Kayti McGee, Melissa Brady King, Laura Barnes, Bethany Hagen, and Genn Albin: Thank you for being there for me every day. I love you all and appreciate you so much. YOU MAKE THINGS HAPPEN!