He leaves and shuts the door. Moments later, I hear the music from upstairs turn off and the loud footsteps of Braden and Trystan coming down the stairs. When they’re gone, and the house is finally quiet, I adjust my pillow and try to sleep.
A few minutes later, my phone rings. I bolt up and grab it from the nightstand, thinking it might be Axl begging for my forgiveness. Begging me to take him back. I know it’s wrong to wish for that, especially knowing he cheated and lied to me, but he’s all I know. My first love. The guy I thought I’d be with forever. It’s hard to just let go of that dream, even if it was never meant to be.
But it’s not Axl calling. My phone says Burt on the screen, which is the secret code name I gave Jackson in case someone sees my phone when he calls. Burt is short for burrito, which is what we ate when he first took me out to that green metal taco shack.
“Hey, Burt,” I say, sitting up.
“Hey, Trudy,” he says with a smile in his voice. Trudy ismysecret name. It came from “intruder”, which is what he claims I was when I showed up behind his property. “How are you feeling?”
“Shitty.”
I called Jackson Saturday night and told him what happened. He’d just got home from football practice and needed to shower and eat, but he stayed on the phone with me for twowhole hours. He wanted me to come over, but I didn’t have the energy to leave my room. I still don’t.
This morning, I woke up to a string of texts from Jackson, mostly pictures of animals doing funny things in an attempt to make me laugh. I didn’t laugh, but I did at least smile, which I didn’t think was possible given how I feel. At noon, he called to check on me and offered to hire someone in New York to go punch Axl for me. It was tempting, but I told him no.
“You gotta get out of that bed,” he says.
“Don’t feel like it.”
“If you don’t, I’m going to come over there and drag you out.”
“Aren’t you at practice?”
“Got home an hour ago. You’re alone, right?”
“Yeah. They all went to dinner. How’d you know?”
“I saw them leaving. I need you to open the door.”
“What?”
“Get out of bed and unlock the door.”
There’s a tapping noise on the sliding glass door that leads to the patio.
“What the hell?” I look at the slider, which is covered by a white curtain. “You’rehere?”
“Thought I’d pay you a visit since you refuse to come see me.”
Smiling, I jump from my bed and run to the slider, shoving the curtain back. Jackson is there, looking hot as ever in gym shorts and a muscle tank, holding a pizza box and a six-pack of soda.
I unlock the slider and yank it open. “You brought dinner?”
“Had to. You haven’t eaten in over a day. And it’s a holiday. You can’t be alone on a holiday.”
“It’s Labor Day. It’s not much of a holiday.”
“Still. I didn’t want you being alone.”
Taking the pizza, I set it on the table, then run back and hug him. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” He hugs me back, and I get a whiff of his intoxicating scent, a combo of masculine musk and woodsy cologne.
“I can’t believe you’re here!” I say, letting him go.
“I needed to see you.”
“You did?” I say, already feeling better just having him here. I don’t know what it is about him but he’s the only person I’ve met here that makes me feel like I’m not in some strange foreign land where nobody wants me. He makes me feel like I’m home, with someone who knows me and cares that I exist and checks on me when I’m not doing well. Even Axl didn’t do that.
