After the kiss, things between Cody and I changed—an instant wall grew between us, awkwardness crept in. That comfort that had done nothing but grow since the minute I met him was stilted, wilting. Our drive home was silent, and we both kept our hands to ourselves, not even venturing as far as the center console for temptation’s sake.
I’m pretty sure he’s ringing the doorbell. Though, I don’t know why he doesn’t just let himself in. I’ve been watching the clock the entire time—about five minutes passing between each ring. I know another one is coming in less than a minute.
I drag my feet to the floor and head to the shower, a clean T-shirt clutched to my chest. It’s Wednesday. I have some studying to do before Dr. Rush’s class, and then I want to spend the rest of the day refining my portfolio work for my Thursday critique at the internship. I’ve been distracted lately, clearly, and I’m worried that it’s starting to show in my drafts. They aren’t nearly as far along as I wanted them to be for my first critique.
The water is sobering against my face. I slept in fits last night, drifting between dreaming about my kiss with Cody and waking to thoughts of my weekend with Trevor. It’s strange how in the moment, there in the corn maze, everything was so clear—I was ready to throw everything I had with Trevor away. But the more distance we put between us and the scene of our indiscretion, the longer we sat there in the car—silent—the more I let regret eat away at me.
I was going to have to tell Cody it was a mistake. And then, I was going to have to hope like hell he understood and didn’t breathe a word of it to Trevor.
The doorbell chimes the second I turn the water off. He isn’t going to stop, and I was going to have to face this conversation at some point. Might as well get it over with. I throw on some jeans and my shirt, slip my feet in a pair of boots, and pull on a hoodie. The house is silent as I make my way downstairs. The harsh sound of the doorbell against the quiet makes me wince.
“Oh my god, stop alread…” I stop when I meet Jessie’s face. She’s pissed, and there’s no confusing it.
“We need to talk,” she says, arms folded in front of her, and I have this amazing fear that she’s about to punch me.
“Hang on,” I say, running back inside to grab my keys and bag. I have a feeling the talk is going to go on for a while. I lock the door behind me when I return and notice Jessie’s at the end of the driveway, leaning on the hood of her car.
“I need to know what the hell you’re doing,” she launches right into it. Funny, I wish I knew what the hell I was doing, but my girlish instincts have me defensive and ready.
“What are you talking about?” I say, brow scrunched—I’m really trying to sell it.
“Pffft,” Jessie rolls her eyes at me and pushes off from the hood of the car, closing the distance between us and showing me just how not intimidated she is of me. “Let me be clear; I love those boys, Gabe and Cody. We’ve been through some serious shit together. And I nursed him back to coming out in the daylight the last time some chick ruined him…and he’s still f**ked up, but he’s a hell of a lot closer to the light than he was five years ago. I’m not letting anyone take him back,” she says, her foul cigarette breath pungent in my face.
I’m not going to lie, Jessie makes me nervous—I wouldn’t say I’m afraid, but I just don’t know how to approach her, deal with her. She’s honest, painfully so. And I know she’ll call me on my bullshit. So I don’t even try.
“What happened five years ago?” I ask, deciding that if I’m going to walk away from Cody, I should know about the damage he’s survived. It makes me feel like I’m making the right choice, not hurting him again.
It takes Jessie a full minute to talk. She takes a deep breath and holds it, her mouth tight and her eyes examining me, scanning to decide if I’m trustworthy. I relax when she steps back a few feet and once again leans on the car, this time sliding up the hood to sit and cross her legs.
“You know about the accident?” she asks, her eyes unflinching, daring. I nod yes, assuming Gabe probably filled her in on what he told me.
“Right, well, Cody was a mess before the accident, and things just spiraled after it,” she starts, pulling a pack of sunflower seeds from her back pocket and unfolding it, reaching forward to offer me some. I just shrug no and she continues.
“Jake and Cody were exactly what you wish every father and son were—in-fucking-separable. God…Jake was so proud of Cody. He taught him how to ride. And when most parents would freak out because their kid was taking their dirt bike and building ramps, Jake was buying truckloads of dirt from construction sites and farm lots, helping Cody build the shit he was jumping off of. He drove him around the country, got him sponsors, put the garage in danger just to get Cody on the damn tour. That’s why the garage is in so much trouble. Jake really let business slide for the three years he had Cody in the X-games.”