Page 2 of Before You
I glance over to where she is watching Billy, and Rose is pretty, but I don’t feel anything when I look at her. I haven’t felt anything toward another girl since Marley. “We’re just friends,” I say. In the nicest way, everything about Rose is wrong for me. Instead of the caramel tresses I once had my hands tangled in, Rose’s hair is an inky black color, and her eyes are dark brown as opposed to the cerulean blue I find myself searching for in the ocean sometimes. No matter what way you spin it, even if she’s here and available, Rose isn’t Marley.
“You’re not seriously still pining for your mystery girl, right?” he asks.
My body involuntarily shivers from how fucking cold I am. “What does it matter?” I ask through clenched teeth. The only reason Asher knows about Marley is because I was plastered at a party freshman year, and he was curious why I hadn’t hooked up with any of the girls throwing themselves at me.
“You’re never going to see her again, so maybe it’s time you move on, JJ. There’s plenty of girls who would jump at the chance to be with you.”
My head is starting to throb behind my temples. “Leave it alone, Ash.”
“Fine.” Asher puts his hands up in self-defense. “Shit, it’s cold in here.”
“Kind of the whole point,” I mimic, repeating his words. I crack a faint smile, trying to lighten the mood, because I know it seems dumb to him I’m holding out for a girl I met two years ago, but he doesn’t understand she’sthegirl. She’s worth waiting for. I just have to find her first.
~
“So the private investigator hasn’t found anything new?” I ask, clicking through the syllabus for my number theory class this semester.
Mirabelle sighs on the other end of the phone, and I hate how defeated she sounds. “No. At this point, I’m wondering why I’m paying him when it’s been seventeen months, and he hasn’t found a single damn thing.”
Our younger brother, Bailey, ran away the day after almost lighting our family’s home on fire for a second time. He stole cash out of our parents’ room, left anything we could use to track him on his bed, and our security cameras saw him leave with only a backpack. All of his social media accounts were cleared and locked out with no way for us to access them.
“I haven’t heard from him in over two months, Mira. He usually calls by now,” I say, rubbing my temples.
According to the last conversation Bailey had with Mirabelle and Henry, he called everyone a liar . . . except for me. The first time Bailey called me after he left, I dropped the phone out of shock. It was five weeks after he ran away, and he’s never called anyone else.
Hunter’s coping by throwing himself into football, and Mirabelle calls the private investigator every week, hoping for new information.
Mirabelle, Henry, and I are the only ones who know he was behind the fire at our home in Charlotte.
Our parents were already so upset about him leaving, we didn’t know how to tell them the severity of the situation. They’ve been blaming themselves ever since for not taking him with them on their trip, and we agreed there was no reason to break their hearts even more than they already were.
I sleep with my ringer on every night in case Bailey calls, and the only time I don’t have my phone within reach is during football. The last time I talked to him, he told me he was safe.He’s careful to never slip up, but without knowing where he is, can he really be safe?
“Do you think Bailey will come home?” she asks the question I’ve been asking myself ever since he left.
“I hope so,” I say, clearing my throat. “How was the flight?”
“It was good. Henry’s unloading the car now, but I’m excited we were able to get away before the craziness of the season begins,” Mirabelle says, laughing. “I’m really looking forward to having his full attention for a few days.”
“Oh, I bet,” I tease, and she laughs. What she doesn’t know is Henry’s proposing while they’re there. He wants it to be a private moment, and ever since the pictures and recording of them hit the internet my freshman year, the cameras are never far behind. The only reprieve they get is when they’re in France.
“Shut up. I meant not having to share Henry with all the sponsorship deals he’s been at since returning from training camp. I feel like I’ve barely spent any time with him.”
“I think it’ll be good for you guys to get away.”
“I think so too,” she agrees, and Asher pokes his head in.
“Trent’s girl is here, and she brought her roommate. I think I’m in love with her,” he says, grinning, and I grab a pen off my desk, prepared to throw it at him.
“I’ll be down in a minute. I’m talking to my sister,” I say, regretting it immediately as his face lights up.
“Dude, can I talk to her?” Asher asks, and this time, I actually throw the pen. “Mira! If you can hear me, there’s still time for you to leave Henry before I’m off the market.”
“Get out.” I groan as Mirabelle laughs again, and Asher wisely decides to exit, shutting my door behind him. One of his favorite things to do since we were roommates freshman year is hit on Mirabelle during our conversations. “I don’t want to go down there to meet this poor girl dating Trent.”
“Why not? I thought you liked Trent?” Mirabelle asks, and I close my laptop.
“I tolerate Trent. He’s an egotistical ass who flaunts how rich his parents are. He’s also cheating on his girlfriend, knowing she apparently transferred here from Columbia to be with him.”
