“Nothing!” Ellie winces. “He seems like the type to want to get to know someone first, is all.”
“I hardly think one date is getting to know someone.”
“Two and ahalfdates,” she corrects, lifting her chin.
I snort in derision. “What, like two and a half dates makes you better than me or something?”
“No, I didn’t mean it like that. Sorry,” she backpedals, scrunching her mouth to the side.
“Besides, technically we’ve known each other for years. Way longer than you two. Which means you should believe what I’m trying to tell you.”
Jax had a reputation in high school. Despite dating Bethany and various other beautiful, popular girls, he was known to have the type of bed posts your dad warned you about—the ones covered in notches. I’ve changed so much since high school, and after talking to him these past few days, I thought he had, too.
I guess I was wrong.
Ellie gives her head a vigorous shake, standing up. “Okay, maybe you’re right, maybe Matt and Jax are somehow the same guy—”
“I know I’m right, I—”
Ellie cuts me off, eyes wild, a finger lifted in reprimand. “Orthis is a coincidence. Matt and Jax are nothing alike. The way you described him doesn’t line up with the guy I know. And Matt wouldn’t do this to me. The way he held me and talked to me... and we have the same names picked out for our kids and...” She trails off, the rims of her eyes turning pink.
“I’m sorry, Ellie. This sucks.”
She sniffs hard and sets her jaw. “Matthew’s a common first name, and I have no idea what his last name is.”
“The tattoo—”
She flings her arms to her sides, hitting my boob again.“Maybe there’s some weird fraternity here and they all got matching tattoos? Maybe they’re cousins and that’s their family sigil? Maybe the tattoo was on a wall in a parlour and they both thought it would look great next to their d—”
“Time, everyone! Let’s go.” Yueyi’s final warning echoes through the room. Ellie is the last actress they’re waiting on, and she gives us a pointed look.
Ellie heads to the costume area, disappearing behind a curtain.
I wait, pacing while chewing on a nail. I wish it weren’t true, but my heart is telling me Jax—Matt—is a lying asshole, and he’s tricked us both.
He didn’t need to lie to me. I would have been fine with a no-strings-attached romp to get my high school yearning out of my system. Then he had to go and make me think he had feelings for me... that he always had. It hurts. But being well-versed in fuckboyery, at least I saw the red flags. I chose to ignore them, yes, but I’m not entirely surprised by this revelation.
Poor Ellie. She is totally convinced by his lying scheme. Jax knew the only way into her pants was to make her think he wanted more, and damn was he convincing. It turns my stomach knowing that he was whispering sweet nothings in her ear and then hours later bending me over his dining room table spanking me.
Ellie emerges in her barista outfit. “We need to confirm one way or another before we jump to conclusions.”
“You’re right,” I say, though I don’t think she’s right at all. “We need to know for sure. I’ll go talk to him once he’s at work. It feels weird to go back to his place now, knowing he is—”
She glares at me.
“That hemight,” I correct, “not be the person he says he is.”
Ellie nods. “Where does he work?”
“A little dive bar at the edge of the city, past the tracks, on your way out to Hope.”
“Okay. I’ll see if I can talk to him after I’m done here, too. We’ll reconvene later.” Ellie leaves to film her scenes.
I collapse into the chair. It spins slowly so that I’m facing myself in the mirror, but I can’t bring myself to look up. I don’t want to see the face of a complete clown.
I find myself so distracted on set that Jimmie has to prompt me multiple times to get up and fix Ellie’s makeup or readjust a curl escaping her bun. My mind is too busy whirring back and forth between hope, anger, and sadness. I thought by now I understood men, or at least couldn’t be fooled by them. It feels gross knowing that I can still be swayed by a pretty face and empty words.
By the time filming is over and I’m sitting in the parking lot of Grumpy Joe’s, looking at Jax’s little purple pickup truck parked along the side, I’m not sure what to think, except that I have to know the truth.