Page 43 of Casualties

“What?You don’t like this song?I thought all chicks did.”Hmmm, chicks?I'll definitely need to school him on music and calling me a chick.“Umm…no.Not all ‘chicks’ like this music, especially me.”My eyes roll hard.

“Whoa, alright Toots.”He fumbles with his phone and lets me know he disconnected his Bluetooth.“Sync up, and let’s hear what you got.”I pull my phone out to Bluetooth to his stereo.I'm not sure if he played that song because of me or if he actually likes it.I’m connected, but taking my time choosing a song.I choose songs based on my mood, just like I do with books.So I guess I'm a mood reader and a mood listener.

I play “Suite Sister Mary” by Queensryche.It’s an eighties ballad about a man getting sent by his crew to kill the woman he loves.The song is kind of dark, but it’s Queensryche, so it’s badass.As I listen to one of my favorites, I sing along.

When I look over at Jackson, I can tell he's never heard this song before.Not going to lie, that's pretty disappointing.Two people dating can have different likes and dislikes, so I can’t red flag Jackson if he turns out to have bad taste in music.“Sooo…What do you think?”I ask in a playful, “please don’t bash my music” sort of way.

“It’s not the worst song in the world, but not my cup of tea.”Not the worst song in the world?This song is amazing.If he ever meets my parents, I need to make a note to never bring up music.Mr.and Mrs.Copeland would school him in a quick second, then proceed to play him song after song until he gets with the program.

“Okay, so what type of music do you listen to?”

Please don’t say the one genre I refuse to listen to.

“Country all the way.”Ugh, he said it.The one genre I refuse to listen to.It takes everything in me to keep from rolling my eyes.“Oh, that’s…nice.”Seriously, that's all I can muster.

“I take it you aren’t a country girl?”

“Um…no, but we can just agree to disagree when it comes to music.”We awkwardly laugh, not having more to say on the topic.I notice we aren’t driving in the direction of my dorm.I was planning to head home after lunch to get ahead on my assignments.

“Where are we going?”I want to know what is stalling my date with my sweatpants.

“My dad texted, he needs me to swing by to pick something up.Is that cool?”I nod at him.Damn, not even fifteen minutes ago we decided to start dating and now I'm going to meet his dad?

“Yeah, that’s cool with me.”I leave my playlist on shuffle, but lower the volume.Maybe I can wait in the car, he said he was only needing to pick something up.

NINETEEN

AINSLEY

Jackson slowly pulls his G-Wagon into what looks like a luxury hotel, or even an exclusive resort.Oh my God, this is his driveway?I knew by what Jackson drives that his family has money, but this is insane.There's no way this is his dad’s house.

“This is your house?I mean this is the house you grew up in?”I’m trying not to look so awestruck, but it’s hard when you pull up to something that could be owned by a Kardashian.The car continues to climb up the drive.I'm able to make out multiple patios with various expensive-looking outdoor furniture.Fuck me, this place is a castle.

“Yeah, this is home.My dad bought it right before I was born; he claims it was a steal.”His eye roll and sarcasm don't go unnoticed.Looking closer at the large-scale mansion Jackson calls home, I see an archway covering the most impressive glass panel front door I have ever seen.“Overwhelming” is an understatement for how huge his home is compared to the home I grew up in.

“Your house is breathtaking.Truly, it is.”I'm now contemplating my outfit choice.If I knew we were going to a house fit for a royal, I would have dressed nicer.I hope for my sake, Jackson is cool with me staying in the car while he grabs whatever his dad needs him to grab.

He opens his door and pauses when he sees I’m not doing the same.“It might be a few Toots, why don’t you come inside?”He is so kind, and fuck, that smile could possibly make me say yes to almost anything.

“Oh, are you sure?I could just wait here for you.”I accidentally glance at my worn-out Chucks in dismay and regret it.I don’t like to let anyone know when I feel out of place.It takes away from the new-and-improved Ainsley I'm trying to be.At this time in my life, my give-a-fucks are on vacation.

“No way, come inside with me.”He exits the car and moves around to my side, opening my door.I guess I am meeting his dad.How is he going to introduce me?I mean, I know we talked about dating, but labels weren’t discussed.I’m sure he’ll say I’m his friend from school.Right?It’s fine; I’m fine.This will all be…fine.

We enter through the front door, and oh my God—this house is as extravagant on the inside as it is on the outside.The main entry features vaulted ceilings as high as the second story, and there’s a white marble staircase with gold handrails in the center of the room.I peer around Jackson to see beautiful chandeliers hanging from every visible ceiling.White marble and gold cascade through this insanely gorgeous home.I feel out of place here—my parents do very well, but this is a whole other level of wealth.

“Oh wait up, Toots.Take your shoes off.My mom is never here, but if she checks the camera feed and sees anyone wear shoes in the house, she will lose her shit.”Well shit, thank God I wore matching socks today.

“Oh yeah, no problem.”I kick off my first shoe by pressing on the back of my heel with my other, then use my foot to push off the other one.Jackson sits on an ivory leather-padded bench with gold legs—I wouldn’t be surprised if their furniture was handpicked from Marie Antoinette’s collection.Okay, seriously?The way this man is untying his shoes and neatly placing them to the side makes me look like a caveman.

He grabs my shoes and places them next to his when the sound of someone clearing their throat echoes.“Jackson my boy, thank you for coming on short notice.And who do we have here?”

The man walking toward us is polished.He looks exactly like Jackson, but with lighter hair from the grays streaking through.Same height, and for the most part, same build.Jackson is a tad bulkier—probably from endless workouts and football practices—but his dad isn’t far off.He's wearing black suit pants with a gray long-sleeve dress shirt.The buttons are all fastened with the exception of the top two.He's eyeing me with curiosity as I do the same.Overall, he's objectively handsome for his age, but old dudes aren’t my type.Jordan, on the other hand, obsesses over middle-aged men.Quoting her, “What?I like my men with experience.”

“Dad.”Jackson reaches out to shake his hand.His happy attitude is now replaced with tension.He doesn’t look thrilled to see his dad.“This is Ainsley, my girlfriend.”I cough, choking on the small amount of saliva in my mouth.He gestures his head in my direction.Woah, girlfriend?I wasn't expecting the label so soon.

“Girlfriend, huh?”I see the look of surprise on his dad’s face.What, does Jackson not have girlfriends?Surely I can’t be the first.”

“You heard me.”There's heat radiating off of Jackson.

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