Page 24 of Playing for Keeps
“I just can’t bear to think about what could have happened if you weren’t there.”
“Me neither, if I’m being honest. The strange part is, he seems in good spirits.”
“That could be the alcohol,” Mom’s voice is still a low whisper.
I shudder to think about the extent of what they’re saying. I knew Jay was acting a little out of character when he got to our place… I mean, I haven’t seen anyone rolling drunk before, and Jay didn’t seem that way, although he was a little off.
He was soaked to the bone, and his eyes seemed glassy and far away. And Dad wasn’t saying much about why they came in like that from the rain.
And now I’m putting all the pieces together… Dad found him on the edge of The Point after drinking alcohol and he thought he was going to jump off a cliff and kill himself?
I’m about to turn and take a step away so I can go and cry silently in my room, when I feel a presence behind me before the touch of someone grabbing me. It all happens in a second and I gasp, albeit a little muffled, as my hand flies up to my mouth in the process. I try not to shriek when I realize I’m confronted with Jay’s chest; he was standing right there behind me and I almost smack into him… shit, did he just hear Mom and Dad talking about him?
“Jay!” I whisper-shout. “You scared the life out of me!”
He gives me that lopsided, cheeky smile he always wears and shakes his head, pulling me by the wrist toward the back of the hallway, where the stairs lead to the basement. Luckily, Mom and Dad don’t appear to have heard us. “Sorry I scared you, I just came to grab a glass of water,” he whispers.
“Me too.”
“So why were you pressed up against the wall like a creeper, listening to your parents’ conversation?”
“I wasn’t doing that!” I bite back.
“Oh yeah? What were you doing then?”
I don’t have any words without giving anything away and I feel my cheeks instantly heat from the notion. “Mom and Dad were talking, and I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“Were they talking about me?” He leans back on the wall opposite me and runs a hand through his floppy hair, not taking his eyes off me. His eyes have always reminded me of the ocean; always blue, mostly calming, but even when they’re rocky, there’s still something comforting about him.
I find myself involuntarily nodding. I can’t lie to save myself. And right now, I wish I could because I don’t want to tell him what I heard. The last thing I ever want to do is upset him, nor do I want to think about something bad happening to him.
I know from some of the things Tanner has said in the past that Jay doesn’t exactly come from a great home life and that he’s moved a lot. He doesn’t get along with his mother and his father is nowhere in the picture. Then there’s her boyfriend who I know as ‘Gus’ to contend with, and that doesn’t seem to be any picnic for him, either.
I first try to back track, but fail miserably. “Umm, no, they weren’t talking about you. I mean, I guess… well… kinda.”
His head tilts as his eyes stick like glue to my face. “Which is it, Little JJ?”
I gulp. Unable to understand why my heart is racing at the same undeniable pace as it was just moments ago, listening to Mom and Dad talk about him. But this feels a little different to that. My palms feel sweaty and my pulse is through the roof. I also have this nervous tingle in my stomach…
I may be a junior and have never had a boyfriend, but I know enough to know when a guy is being a little cute. And Jay is being cute with me.
I blink several times, trying to form an answer for him. Trying to get past the ‘Little JJ’ nickname.
He’s always been very gracious to me if I’m hanging around when he and Tanner are trying to do homework and other shit they don’t want me privy to. Not that I don’t have my own stuff to do, or my own friends, but it’s kinda hard to avoid them in our medium-sized suburban house. And Jay has been around here with Ben more often than not lately.
“They were just saying how bad the storm was,” I say, which isn’t exactly an all-out lie, but not how I heard it, either. I mean, what am I supposed to say?… my parents are having a quiet whisper in the kitchen about you because they think you’re suicidal? “And they’re worried about you,” I add. That part is definitely no fabrication of the truth. They’re going to call the authorities because of it.
“Did they tell you I was drunk?” He presses his lips together like he’s fighting a smile, but something behind his eyes catches my attention. And I only notice because of how dark they are today, and how every girl in high school has noticed how pretty they are, too. Only right now, they’re not shining and mischievous like normal… they’re something else. I just don’t know what. It’s intense, maybe even a little sad.
“No, they didn’t tell me anything.” I shake my head. “But I heard Dad say you were waving a bottle of alcohol around.”
His chuckle causes me to look up from the hardwood floor we’re standing on. I keep looking down because it’s hard to keep my eyes on him. “They worry too much. It was just a bet from a couple of the guys down the rink. Nothing to worry about.” He waves it off with a flail of his hand like it really is no biggie.
I bite the corner of my lip as I take in his words and try to work out if he means it. His eyes catch mine again.
“It’s horrible stuff, by the way. I wouldn’t recommend it,” he tells me matter-of-factly.
“Good to know,” I all but squeak.
