"Oh, shit." Pushes out of my mouth before I can stop it. What a bastard. How can he do this to Pris's mom? To Priscilla?
"What the hell are you doing in my house!" He jerks away from the woman, as though I don't know what would have gone down if I wasn't here. This asshole—the one that never has time for his daughter, but expects her to be perfect. Who only makes time for her when it will look good for him in public. The one who didn't even want me to come to her graduation party yet he's about to get busy with another woman in their house?
I forget about Mom.
About Mike.
About anything except for making it better for her. "I'm here with your daughter—with my girlfriend—who you're about to wreck."
His face goes pale. Dude, I swear I can see the wheels turning in his head, see him think and plot how to get his slimy ass out of this. I'm not even good enough to be her friend, yet he does this? His eyes dart to the stairs. She's still not there. The woman next to him is smiling and I can tell she's probably loving the fact that he got caught and thinking he'll really be hers now.
He pushes his hand in his pocket and pulls out his wallet. "How much?"
It's dumb, but his words don't register at first. "Huh?"
"You heard me. How much? What's going to keep your mouth shut about this?"
Anger erupts inside me. Anger for Priscilla. For her mom. At this prick standing in front of me. The one who everyone in town treats like a king and who makes his daughter feel like crap. The one who thinks he can buy me off when I just told him Priscilla's my girl. "You think I'll keep your secret for you for money? Hell no. She's way more important to me than any amount of money."
The jerk has the nerve to laugh. "You think I don’t know who you are? Sinclair, you’ve been leeching off my daughter for years. I kept you out of trouble when you assaulted your dad. Why not take the money and run now?”
His words make me flinch. They weasel their way into me the same way he accuses me of doing with Priscilla. They're so close to what I've heard my whole life. What I see because everyone obviously keeps walking away from me.
"She'll never know. You can take the money. You need help with college, right? I can do that. You want to disappear for a while? I can help you with that, too. Hell, keep dating her if you want, because it will not last, but do yourself a favor, kid, and keep your mouth shut. She'll end up hating you for telling her—for breaking her heart and messing up her family. Do you want that? Want to make her hate you?"
But then, some other thoughts start to push in too. I have no doubts he could make all those things come true, but I don't want it. "There is nothing, nothing I wouldn't do for Priscilla. I don't give a shit about her money. I don't want it. Don't need it. The only thing I care about is making sure she's okay, which obviously you couldn't care less about."
And that makes me someone. That makes me more than her dad sees when he looks at me. It makes me more than he is. More than a lot of people would be. It makes me a good friend. A good boyfriend. A good person.
"I don't want your money. She means more to me than that and she deserves to know the truth. Jesus, do you know what kind of pressure you put on her? How you make her think she has to be perfect. And all you are is a liar and a fake."
"Who has a whole hell of a lot more friends and power than you do, kid."
But it doesn't matter. Do I think people would believe him over me? Yep. Do I think he could cause problems for me? Absolutely. Is it more important than her? Hell no.
How many times has Priscilla told me it doesn't matter what other people think? That Mike's problems or Mom's problems were theirs and not mine? The man standing in front of me is what everyone thinks they want to be—he's the kind of man I would have thought I'd want to be, but in this moment, I'd rather be like me than him.
Views are so freaking skewed—the way people see each other and the way they see themselves. Anything can change them or alter them. What you see on the outside usually isn't what you get on the inside and that's what matters. Actions. What you put out into the universe or whatever.
Right now I feel like more of a man than I ever have.
"I don't care what you do to me. How much you threaten me." Now, it's me walking closer to him. I won't let him back me down. "The girl upstairs is all that matters. And that sure as hell isn't taking your money and keeping my mouth shut so you can do what you want.”
Mike hates me, and why? Because of something I had no control over. Nothing I ever would have done would be enough for him, and why? Because his ego couldn't handle the fact that once, even for one night or one hour, Mom wasn't under his thumb.
That isn't my fault. It doesn't say anything about me.
I know Mom doesn't hate me, but I think she might hate herself. Does that hurt? Yep, but I can't control it. I can't stop her. She's made her choices. They were never mine to make and I can't stop her or change her mind.
It's not my fault.
The man standing in front of me is a selfish liar. He doesn't want me around his daughter because of his skewed freaking vision of what is important.
Not my fault.
And I don't want to be like him.
How they see me isn't my fault. How could I have not realized this before?
I would do anything for Priscilla, Sebastian, Aspen. For Courtney, or even for mom. I would have even walked away from Priscilla. I'm damn proud of that person.
And no one will make me walk away from Pris again.
"I don't care what you think of me or what you offer me. I care about Priscilla and how I'm going to go up to her room and break her heart because of you."
"You don't have to do anything. I heard it all." Pris walks down the stairs, her head held high.
"Priscilla. We need to talk." Her dad steps toward her, but my girl holds up her hand. All brave and strong in a way I never used to be.
"We don't need to do anything." She stops right in front of him. "How long?"
My feet carry me toward her. I stand behind her because I know she can do this on her own and because I want her to know I'm here if she needs me. I'll always have her back.
"Now isn't the time, Priscilla." His whole stance has changed. He’s nervous and stiff.
"Now is the only time!" she yells and then looks at the woman who doesn't look so smug anymore. "How long?"
"A year and a half."
Priscilla flinches, but keeps going. "Was she the only one?"
"Don't demand answers from me, young lady."
"Was. She. The. Only. One?"
A slight shake of his head is the only answer she needs.
"Did you know you never made me feel like I was good enough? That I never would be unless I became like you? I don't want to be anything like you. Nothing. And Jaden is more of a man than you'll ever be."
There's a slight shake in her voice and I can tell she's not going to be able to hold it together much longer. I step forward and grab her hand.
"Are you ready to go?"
She looks at her dad one last time. "Yeah...yeah, I'm ready."
With that we walk outside, straight past mom's car. I don't need it. Don't want it. We walk silently until we get to Courtney's. As soon as we step onto the porch, Pris loses it. I wrap my arms around her and hold her. "I'm sorry. So fucking sorry, Priscilla." The words keep coming out over and over. "I love you."
When the tears finally ease up, she wipes her eyes, before zeroing them in on me.
"Do you know how incredible you are, Jaden Sinclair? How rare you are? How good a person you are?"
I look at her and smile, "Yeah. I'm learning that. I really am." And I do. For real. I see who I am and though I'm not perfect, I like what I see.
***
The second we get to the baggage claim in New York, Sebastian is coming right for us.
"About time you guys got back! We were worried."
I laugh at him. "Dude, you sound like your mom."
"Sebastian! Get back in here! Give them some space or time or something," Aspen yells from behind him.
"There's always time for me!" He tosses back at her before stopping and staring at us. I can tell he wants to ask us a million questions, that he's wondering what went down, but he doesn't do anything but stand there. For Sebastian's big mouth, that is huge.
"What are you guys doing here? We could have taken a cab back by ourselves," Priscilla asks, but I just shake my head. I'm not surprised at all. I know she's not really, either.
"Dude! We didn't know what happened. Just that you guys went home." He shrugs. "We needed to make sure things were okay, or whatever."
I don't mention that since we're back, everything is obviously okay. It's cool he cares.
He's a nutcase. Obnoxious. Loud. But he's my best friend. A kick ass friend, who I'm honored to have and who probably thinks the same thing of me. Especially the obnoxious part.
"You just didn't want to miss any excitement."
"No shit. That's a given."
Aspen punches his arm. "Bastian! You're so bad."
"That's not what you said last—ouch!" he says as she hits him again. "I'm sorry, baby. You're right. I'm bad and you're awesome. Just don't hit me again."
Then we're all quiet and I know they know something big went down. There are hundreds of people around us in the airport. People run into us, but it doesn't matter. I'm glad they're here. All of them. I hold out my fist and Sebastian bumps it.
"Dios! Enough with the stupid boy stuff." Priscilla puts one arm around me and the other around Aspen. Aspen returns Priscilla's hold and then puts her other arm on Sebastian. Without a word, he and I complete the circle. A tight, unbreakable circle. We probably look like idiots, but I don't care and I'm sure they don't, either.
How could I not have known I have everything I need right here? That these people wouldn't be my friend if I wasn't as incredible as they are?
I'm awesome. Does it sound cocky? Yep, but it's true.
I'm awesome because of them and they just might be the way they are because of me.
I have a girl I love.
I have my friends, who I love as well.
Courtney and Roger and maybe even the person who lives on the address in my pocket. One day, I might go there. Or not. I don't think it really matters. I know who I am. These people know who I am. I have everything I need right here.
"I hope this doesn't mean we plan on hugging all the time, Jay. I mean, you're my boy but..."
"You're so stupid." I shake my head. "You're my boy too, but you're definitely not pretty enough to keep hugging."
But none of us let go right away.
I remember something Sebastian said before. Something I rolled my eyes at, at the time. "A package deal."
"All for one, or whatever," he adds.
Epilogue
"New York is way too freaking cold in the winter." I blow on the coffee in my hand. My gloved hand. Priscilla is sitting next to me in the brown leather booth.
"It's not that bad. You're such a baby."
"Your baby." Leaning over I nuzzle her neck. I don't even care that the words are cheesy. I would have made fun of Sebastian for saying them a few months ago. I would probably still make fun of him if he said the same thing, just for a laugh. It's different when I say stuff like that though.
"I don't know whether to roll my eyes at you or swoon."
I love that my girl speaks her mind and is tough as nails. So hot.
"How about you roll your eyes now just because you're sexy when you're frustrated and you can swoon when we're alone?"