Page 46 of People Like Us

“Why do you stay with her?” I finally asked.

He held the smoke in his lungs, offering the joint to me in question, before exhaling. I brought it to my mouth but hesitated, not wanting to miss anything in his expression.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Jack had never been good at playing coy.

“I know you know.” I said before taking a pull from the joint.

“Know what?” he asked slowly. I went into a coughing fit and handed the joint back to him. He laughed, patting me on the back.

“That she’s gay, dummy,” I said when I could breathe again.

“Oh. That.” He let out a long breath, putting the joint out against the step. “I love her,” he answered like it was the only one there could be.

I frowned, my thoughts already growing cloudy. “Even though she doesn’t love you?”

“There are all kinds of love,” Jack said, brushing the ash off the porch.

“Doesn’t it hurt though? To know that you can’t have her the way you deserve?”

He shook his head, giving me a lopsided grin. “I don’t deserve her just because I want her, Lola. And it wouldn’t be fair for me to want her in any way she wasn’t willing to give me. Besides, this isn’t as one-sided as it looks.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Are you coming out to me right now, Jack?”

He barked out a laugh. “No. I just meant the situation isn’t as bad as it looks from the outside. Emily and I have always had a different kind of relationship. We understand each other in a way most people never get—even when romance is involved. I love her like a sister, not like how you love Andy.”

I nodded, trying to make sense of that. I guess I took too long to respond because he asked, “Do you still love him?”

I hadn’t realized I was staring across the street at the outline of August’s house until Jack poked me gently in the side, drawing my attention back to him.

“I don’t know,” I said before I could think better of it. I was suddenly reminded of why I didn’t smoke—because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut when I did.

Jack huffed a short laugh. “Well, shit.”

“Please don’t tell him I said that,” I blurted. “I’m just high.”

Jack winked at me as he said, “It’ll stay between us.”

I studied his face for a moment. There was something perpetually boyish about his features that betrayed his ability to speak like he was a decade older than the rest of us.

“You should stay away from Penelope,” I said before the thought had fully formed in my mind.

He seemed surprised by this. “Why would you say that?”

“Because whatever is going on between the two of you is pissing Emily off. And I think she’s the last person on earth I’d want to piss off.”

Jack let out a humorless laugh. “You’re not wrong. Emily could be a serial killer and none of us would ever know it. Thanks for the heads up.”

“I could know it, and she’d still convince me she was in the right,” I said, more in awe of her than in judgement.

I got up then, not fully aware of my body as I walked across the yard.

“Where are you going?” Jack called from behind me.

“For a walk. I’ll be back in a bit.” I made it to the road before I heard the door open and shut behind me.

I crossed the street under the glow of the street lights and slipped into August’s yard. On the other side of his garage I found a garden bed, picked a few heavy chunks of mulch from it and tossed them as high as I could at the square of light perched at the second story. It took a few tries before I hit it, then a few more before I saw his silhouette appear in the window.

He shoved the glass open and stuck his head out. “Lola?” he called into the darkness.