Chapter 02.10

“You’re just jealous,” I snapped mockingly. “Because I actually have childhood dreams.”

“Oh, please. Your childhood dream wasn’t about where you’d study, genius—it was to become a vet!” she shouted, kneeling on the chair to face me head-on.

“Oh, and you know exactly what my childhood dream was, do you, smartass?” I stood up too.

“Do you even know what a childhood dream is?” she screamed, unleashing all her fury on me. If I’d gotten any closer, she might’ve hit me. “I’ll tell you.” She climbed halfway onto the table, her voice trembling with rage. “When you dream of your dad dancing at your wedding—that’s a childhood dream!” she shouted. “And do you know what happens to childhood dreams?” Her voice turned bitter. “They vanish. You know why?” she continued, now standing and yelling. “Because your dad dies suddenly.”

She realized what she’d said and sank back into her chair. Then she started crying—something I’d never seen her do before.

In an instant, I was beside her, wrapping my arms around her. I stroked her hair, kissed the top of her head, breathing in the scent of it, holding her until her sobs began to fade.

“I’m sorry you didn’t move in with me,” I whispered. The words just spilled out.

“I’m not,” she said, looking at me with those beautiful eyes. “I’m much better off here. Moving in would’ve been a mistake.”

“I hate that school,” I admitted. “I miss you all. I don’t have any friends there.”

“Aww, I’m sorry,” she said. “I thought it was your dream.”

“It’s not what I imagined,” I sighed.

“Nothing ever is,” she replied in that usual know-it-all tone.

“Do you always have to know everything better?” I asked, still lost in her eyes.

“Not everything,” she blushed at her own thoughts, and I had to suppress a smile. “There are things you’re better at.”

“Oh, there definitely are,” I grinned. “Does your guy kiss like I do?” 

“That’s… that’s none of your business,” she stammered.

“I don’t even care,” I said with a smile.  Her lips were calling to me.

I leaned in to kiss her, and the moment our lips touched, she pulled away.

“I’m so sorry. That was a mistake,” she blurted out. “It wasn’t fair to Helen. I shouldn’t have come here.”

“Who the hell is—?” I started to ask, but she jumped up from her chair and ran to the hallway.

She barely got her shoes on, grabbed her coat, and rushed out the door. I scrambled to put on my shoes and ran after her, only catching up in Uncle Steve’s street. She must’ve been running.

“Jenny, babe, wait!” I called after her under the glow of the fireworks.

She stopped, wiped her face, and pulled up her hood.

“I’m not making the same mistake twice. I’m never letting you walk alone in the dark again,” I said as I caught up to her.

When I reached her, she said nothing and started walking toward Uncle Steve’s house. I couldn’t see her face under the hood.

“Can we talk about that kiss?” I asked. “Or about us? That’s why I came looking for you tonight. I wanted to apologize… and tell you how terribly I miss you,” I finally admitted.

“Please apologize to your parents for me,” she said instead of answering. “For not cleaning up after myself. The salad was for the lunch in the fridge, but I promise—I won’t come over again.”

She stopped at the door and unlocked it with her key.

“Can I call you sometimes?” I asked.

“Please don’t,” she said softly. “You have Helen now.”

Before I could say a word, she stepped inside and closed the door behind her.

I got into the car I’d left parked nearby and drove home.