Ask me to stay.
Don’t shut down on me, please.
When you touch me, I don’t feel hollow inside any more.
I love you.
Cassie
A week later, things are getting ridiculous. Jake and I haven’t talked, but I’m looking for excuses to stay and coming up with crazy ones. Things like I owe AJ lunch or I still have to vacuum the car.
This thing Jake insists he needs to tell me is still lurking somewhere. I swore I’d let him tell me at breakfast that next morning, but I left before we could talk, mumbling a hasty half-truth about how I totally forgot I promised Delia I’d be in early to help her with inventory.
“Seriously? Do you think he bought that bullshit story?” AJ is helping me clean out my new-to-me car. Vacuuming, dusting, tossing old junk mail and candy bar wrappers, and using some cleaner stuff that’s supposed to make your tires look new. Although why that last thing matters, I have no idea.
I find a Twix wrapper under the floor mat and toss it. Jake must love them—signs of them are everywhere. “I don’t know. Probably not. He says he still wants to talk, but he’s been conveniently too busy or too tired to get together since then. I’m getting single-word responses to my text messages.”
“Ouch.”
Yeah, big ouch. We had this whole... whatever it was. This shift happened. He cooked me dinner for crying out loud. I don’t have a ton of experience with guys, but even I know you don’t get his mother’s special recipe unless he’s decided you matter.
I crumple another wrapper and throw it away. Whatever clues I hope to find to Jake’s inner psyche, they won’t be here. “Yeah. I thought what we had was more important than some stupid family secret. He seemed to think whatever it was would make me hate him. I told him I don’t care.”
“Sure. You trust him, right?”
I manage to smile. “That’s what I said.”
AJ’s holding a portable mini vac he borrowed from Mrs. Choi in one hand. In the other, he’s got a piece of junk mail. Looks like an old real-estate flyer. “You said it was something to do with his family? We could uh, do a little recon work.”
Heat rushes to my face. “No. No way. I can’t invade his privacy.” Even as I say it, my eyes slide from AJ’s smiling face with the wiggling eyebrows to the piece of mail addressed to Mariana Christian in Greenhill, NC. My adrenaline jumps up a notch. I recognize that name from his house—the birth announcement for his sister pinned up on his refrigerator. “Anyway, that’s four, maybe five hours from here.”
“It’s your day off. If we go now we can be there by early afternoon. In this baby? We might even make it before church lets out.”
“I trust him, AJ.” I do. What worries me is how he looked all dead man walking when he said we needed to talk. Why does my staying or going from Evergreen Grove have to hinge on some thing he hasn’t told me? Whatever it is, it shouldn’t matter.
I believe Jake is a good guy, and if I believe that, then I don’t need him to air his dirty laundry for me. He should tell me because he wants to, not because he thinks he has to. I know what it’s like to feel as if every part of you has been laid out for examination, and that isn’t how I want us to go forward, if we’re going to.
“Okay but whatever this thing is, Jake thought it was important to get things out in the open. I also get it that you’re nervous about what he might say. I mean, what if it really does change things between you? Maybe seeing where he came from would give you a hint. Help brace you for the big news.”
He’s right. I hate to admit it, but AJ has his finger on the fear I was trying not to acknowledge. What if Jake’s secret really would make a difference in my decision to stay or go?
I can insist all I want that I won’t let fear make my decisions, but when I’m faced with the first good thing I’ve had in forever, it doesn’t seem so simple. It isn’t simple at all.
Part of me thinks AJ’s idea is appalling. Part of me thinks if I know before Jake has to tell me, I can spare him the hurt of having to spill whatever terrible story he’s gearing up to tell. God, I can’t believe I’m almost agreeing with AJ’s logic.
“It did sound like it had something to do with his stepmother. Or his dad? I don’t know, but there was a huge fight. So I guess it might tell me something.”
AJ claps his hands. “I’ll grab some travel snacks. Can I drive?”
He’ll have to. I’m getting dizzy. “Can you drive a stick?”
“Does Mrs. Choi dye her hair every third Thursday? You know I can work a stick.”