Page 12 of One Night Rebellion
She blinks in surprise. And I can see her scrambling to come up with an answer, but we both know there isn’t one. Finally, she lands on the predictable response. “I just don’t want to see anyone hurt. Not you, not Malcolm.”
“We’ve not even technically been on a real date yet,” I inform her. “So how the hell could we possibly get hurt when we can’t even get out of the starting gate without other people butting in?”
I turn away from her, my mood shot to hell and back. I catch JT watching me from across the table. He mouths a question.You okay?
In answer, I just nod. What am I supposed to say?I know we aren’t dating, but we have to break up anyway because no one else has shit to do?
I resent it. I resent other people digging around in my life and posting about it for their own entertainment. And I resent that it might cost me something that I really want. And it’s not the new job that I’ve only been given with reservation. It’s the man sitting across from me—someone who has as much to lose as I do if things go sideways.
—--
Everyone is milling around, doing their typical quasi-southern goodbyes. All that means is that we take as long to say goodbye to one another as we did having lunch together. We’ve covered weddings, funerals, births, graduations, and moved on to divorces. There’s been a chorus of “damn, that’s crazy” utteredby no less than four people for three different stories. Finally, everyone is getting into their respective cars and I’m sliding into the front seat of JT’s Mustang again. It doesn’t feel nearly as sweet as it did on our way here. Now it feels like there are a dozen sets of prying eyes watching my every move.
“Whadup?” he says, easing the car out of the parking space and merging back onto the busy two-lane highway.
JT drives with confident ease, kind of like he does everything else. I envy that a little bit, his ability to be self-assured no matter what’s coming his way. His whole life fell apart, for Pete’s sake. Every plan, every goal, every milestone checked off the list right up to that last fateful game had been on a path he chose, that he committed to. Even when it didn’t work out, he didn’t fall apart or sink into a hole of self-pity and bitterness. After a few weeks, he picked himself up, dusted himself off, and revised his plans accordingly. But where does coming back to Bellehaven fit into all this? Is he really gonna stick or is this just some nostalgic urge for him that he needs to fulfill?
“No one says that anymore. You’re showing your age,” I tell him. My tone is probably snarkier than it needs to be.
“I’m pushing thirty. That’s not ancient,” he insists, giving me the side-eye. “In all seriousness, what’s going on with you? You got real quiet in there.”
“Did you know we were on Spotted in Bellehaven?” I ask him.
His hands tighten on the wheel for a split second, then he sighs. “Yep. Sierra took great pleasure in telling me all about it at church.”
“You knew? You knew and you didn’t tell me?” I’m all but shouting at him. “How could you let me get blindsided like that?”
He just shrugs. “There wasn’t time. She mentioned it just before you walked in. And then everybody else was around. Does it bother you that much for people to know?”
“Yes!” Is he really that unbothered by it all? There are a half-dozen reasons why the two of us shouldn’t be involved. There’s Malcolm—his bestie and my big brother. Then there’s the history with my piece-of-shit father trying to kill Troy. He’s the rich kid—maybe he didn’t start out as one, but when the shit hit the fan about Cody being his father, that changed everything. We’re about as far apart on the economic spectrum as two people can be. But even with all that, the thing that terrifies me is how entangled our lives are. We love all the same people. And if we fuck this up, what else—who else—are we damaging? “I don’t want us and whatever this is between us to be the reason long-standing friendships fall apart.”
“We’re not going to cause any of that,” he says, his expression clearly indicating that he thinks I am overthinking and overreacting.
“You can’t say that for sure. We don’t even know what they hell we’re doing yet!”
“So let me take you out on a date. A real one. Not just me picking you up after work and making out in my car.” He offers the suggestion like it’s the answer to everything.
“We’re not doing a hard launch, JT. For now, until we figure out what we want and what we want other people to know, we’ve got to keep things quiet… You know what it’s like in this town when you’re at the center of gossip. I know you remember how that felt.”
He gets quiet. Really quiet. Then, finally, he just nods. “Yeah. I remember what that’s like. And if you don’t want to be put in the middle of that, I get it… but I’m not the kind to just sneak around, Addie. I don’t like secrets, for obvious reasons.”
“So we go back to being just friends.” And I can’t keep the disappointment out of my voice.
“What? No! Fuck no. I’m just telling you there’s a time limit on how long I’m willing to be your dirty little secret… And I don’tknow what that limit is. We’ll figure it out when we get there. In the meantime, how do we do this? You don’t have a car. I obviously can’t pick you up.”
“I’ll use Karly’s. She works the evening shift at Sally’s so dropping her off is no big deal… The real question is where do we go?”
“I’d say my place, but it isn’t actually mine yet. And if you don’t want people seeing me at yours… that leaves only one option. Wanna go revisit the site of all those famous field parties?”
“The old Bradley place?” It’s crazy, but it might be the only option we have. It’s secluded, but the narrow gravel road and his pride and joy Mustang are a bad combo. “Your car?”
“I’ll use Dad’s SUV. It’s fine,” he insists. “I wanna see where this can take us, Addie. And if that means we need to keep it quiet for a while, I can do that.”
Those words make me hopeful. They also make me terrified.
8
JT
