“And I will. Look around you! Iam.”
He shook his head dubiously, and I fought down a wave of anger. In my entire life, I’d never let him down when it counted. I wouldn’t let him down this time either.
“Oh, son. You’d better hope like heck Jayd shows up,” he said sourly. “And do whatever you’ve gotta do to keep him happy.”
I pushed my chair back from the table and stood, forgetting for a second that the chair would keep on rolling. It hit the wall behind me with a dramatic crash that made Mason widen his eyes and say, “Oh, shit! Fenn, is that—?” while Toby went wide-eyed and gaped like a fish… which was fine because at least he was quiet.
“Listen, I know you all think Jayd Rollins is gonna come in and save the day. I get it—he seems so charming, right? He’s got that handsome face and that charming smile that make you think you know him. I did, too, once. But he’s not a guy who sticks around when things get inconvenient. He’s allergic to responsibility. The sooner you get that, the less disappointed you’ll be.”
I sure wished I’d figured it out sooner.
“Rafe,” Beale said urgently. “Shut up.”
I ignored him. This was not my fault. I was doing fine notthinking aboutcertain people, but now he was being pushed in front of my face. And it turned out maybe I couldn’t be wise and mature about everything. At least not about thisonething.
“Jay Rollins doesn’t keep promises,” I went on, hoping at leastoneof them would get it. “He walks away from people he claims to love—”
“Rafael,” Dad said in a panicked voice, slapping a hand on the table. “Shut it!”
But I shook my head. I wouldn’t be silenced, not about this. I was speaking the truth.
“He has his own agenda and always has! He doesn’t care aboutyou. He sure as hell doesn’t care aboutme.” I stood up straighter, lifted my chin, and informed Littlejohn, “And ‘Pretty Girl’ couldn’t be more overproduced and soulless if it came with an ’80s synthesizer track and its own Macarena-typeline dance.”
“Aw, jeez,” Littlejohn said, his eyes darting past me to the door like he was plotting his escape.
Dad buried his head in his hands and moaned a little.
Even Ms. McKetcham clutched the place where her pearls would be, if she were the pearl-wearing type, which was a little excessive, as far as I was concerned. I was entitled to my opinion, after all.
“I only hope hedoesshow up so I can say the same damn thing to his face,” I added with a firm nod.
“Is that so?”
Jayd’s voice, which had already been deep and raspy back when he was fifteen and had only gotten rougher over the years, registered in my brain before his words did. Like Pavlov’s pathetic dog, the sound made my lips start to tip up in a smile before I caught it and forced myself to turn around instead.
Shit.Shit. He was here.
Jayd Rollins was actuallyhere.
And for all my bold talk, I was wildly unprepared for the reality of him.
I got a momentary impression of Jayd’s long, blond-streaked hair, his rangy body—nearly as tall as me but not nearly as wide—dressed in heavy jeans and boots that by rights would kill a man in the Florida summer sunshine. His dark green eyes—bloodshot, like he’d had too much worry and too little sleep—blazed hot enough to incinerate me where I stood.
“Thank you, Rafe,” he said. “I’dalmoststarted to question myself.”
Jayd’s voice had always had this kind of magical quality to it. Stupid DJs went on and on about the resonance of his voice, the texture that made every word he said sound like it contained entire symphonies. But to me, it had always felt like every word he spoke was part of a dream—one that kept me hanging on, waiting to see what he’d say next.
Even though I didn’t trust him, even though I didn’twantto listen, even though I wanted to hate his guts, I stood rooted to the spot.
“Question yourself about what? Your song being an insult to music?” My voice was also deep, but totally unmagical, like the croak of a bullfrog with anxiety. “Fine. I forgive you.”
“Nah. About whether I should live out this little fantasy I’d had about our reunion.” Jay smiled an angelic smile, a smile I hadn’t seen in way too long and was mortified to find I’dmissed, as he strolled closer to me.
“You fantasized about our reunion?”
“Oh, yeah,” he whispered.
Then he punched me in the stomach so hard I doubled over.
