“No! Jax, please. It’s just a phone.”
“Why don’t you get it?Why?It’s not just a phone. That’s my whole life out there. My future.”
Jax’s whole body leaned forward, his weight over the line, his feet still firmly planted on the white dust. Ana held her breath, half expecting a shot to ring out.
“You’ve got me,” Jade said. Her words hung in the baking air for a moment. Jax paused, his forward momentum stopped. “Don’t do it, Jax. Please. I love you.”
Jax’s head dropped to one side as he listened, his eyes still locked on his phone.
They all stood frozen in place, watching things play out before them. A cricket struck up a loud whirring from somewhere beyond the line. The death machine creaked as the rusty metal expanded in the harsh heat.
Ana didn’t breathe, her heart was beating hard and fast, she could feel her pulse in her fingers.Don’t do it. Don’t do it.
Jax straightened, turning to face Jade. He smiled, his beautiful face lit up with his perfect white teeth, his achingly deep dimples.
“Love you too, babe,” he said, cocking his head a little. “But I got this.”
He was off. It happened so fast that Ana barely registered he’d gone. Sprinting forward, he cleared the distance in seconds, skidding to a stop in the red dust as he bent down for his phone. His fingers scrabbled in the dirt, trying to find a hold on the small black object.
He caught it, his feet behind him, stretching out, trying to stop his momentum and send him back across the line.
He never stood back up.
The firstcrackdropped him loosely to his knees. He looked across the line, his eyes searching for Jade.
The secondcrackpropelled him face forward into the dirt. Everything seemed to soften and fall as he sank into himself on the desert floor. In an instant, Jax was gone, leaving behind an empty dark outline.
Only one thing remained defined. His right hand, wrapped around his shiny black phone. Still clinging to it: his whole life, his future, gripped tightly as everything else faded away.
27
Jade
43:54
No more.
Jade couldn’t do this. She couldn’t. There was nothing left inside. All her usual go-girl platitudes were empty. Nothing helped.
For once in her life, she faced herself. It wasn’t unfair or someone else’s fault. She couldn’t bury herself in her comfort blanket of self-pity. She had done this. She had killed Jax. He was gone.
She was curled up on the floor. Somewhere. She wasn’t sure where. Someone had helped her, guided her here. Maybe Ana? Or a guy?
As she thought it, she pictured Jax.Jax. A guy. Her guy. Oh, god.
Oh, god. Oh, god. Oh, god.
There was no coming back from this. She just wanted to go home. She wanted her mom with her stupid actor wigs and French-tip nails, floating around in her cloud of Chanel and assistants. She wanted Ruby, her annoying little sister, who followed her everywhere and copiedeverything she did; she even stole Jade’s clothes and made a hole in her favorite Lululemon leggings. They hadn’t spoken for days over that—over Lulu-fucking-lemon. Pointless.
Somehow, Jade knew, with clinical certainty, that she was never going to see them again. She was never going home.
Jax was dead. She had killed him, and soon she would be dead too. She would just lie here until the end. There was no strength in her. No will. She would fade away on this…vintage linoleum?
The pattern caught her eye. It was distinctive and oddly on-trend. A geometric repeated shape over and over. She knew this place. The reception area.
There was a slight noise, some low whispers, a door banging, a chair leg scraping the floor. Someone was in here with her.
With what little strength she had, she lifted her head and looked around.
