"Guess so," he whispers back, and I don't know if to laugh or cry.
Turning on my heel so fast I skid on the concrete, I march away, my vision blurry and my chest tight.
Good thing I never told Sydney how I felt about Jarett, or that I found him again.
Not that it matters, since Syd and me, we're not on speaking terms right now.
And that makes it even worse. God, I wish we'd never had that fight. I wish I could just call her and tell her what happened. Of all nights, tonight I need her the most.
But I'm not making the first move. No way. Not happening. This is on her. She lied to me, and even when confronted won't tell me the truth.
So it makes no sense that I find my phone in my hand just as the bus arrives and I climb up inside. My finger is scrolling down my list of contacts before I know what I'm doing.
Calling Sydney.
When the call connects, and I hear her voice, I have to turn away for the other passengers to hide my tears.
She picks up on the second ring. "Gigi?"
"Syd … Can we meet? Please."
She's my bestie, even if she lied, even if she didn't make the first move. I'm the one calling, all but begging to see her, talk to her. It's kind of humiliating. Kind of humbling, to realize how much I need her. Her support, her friendship, her presence.
To think I have no pride when it comes to those I care for, that caring for them makes me so weak.
Is all love that way?
"So, let me get this straight," Sydney mutters, sprawled on her belly on my bed, mouth full of my mom's world-famous butter cake. "The guy talking to you at the bar, the one you wanted to go back to, was Jarett? Jarett Lowe, from our school?"
"That's the one." I balance my plate of cake on my knees as I lean back against the headboard.
"The one you wanted to marry?"
"I never said that," I scoff, picking at the cake, crumbling it on the plate.
Did I?
Nah.
"The one you wouldn't ever shut up about," Syd goes on, and I pause with a crumb of cake in my hand. "That you drew hearts and arrows with your initials in your notebooks."
"Not true. Why are you saying these things?"
"Because they're true?" She grins at me. "Come on, Gigi. You had a mega crush on the guy, admit it."
Maybe so, but I shake my head stubbornly. "I was a kid."
"Hardly. Three years ago, Gigi. Just three years."
Yeah, I know, okay? Jeez. "Can we please drop the topic of the crush I never had on Jarett, and focus on what he did?"
She chokes on laughter-and cake. When she can breathe again, she wipes at her mouth with her fingers and sighs. "Sure. For now."
I shoot her a glare. She knows I haven't forgiven her for the other night, right? That this is a truce, but that eventually we will be talking about that night? "Great."
"So, let me see if I understood exactly what happened: at the club, he saved you from his brother's slimy advances, helped you when you felt dizzy, and then the next time you saw him … he was an asshole to you?"
I shiver. "Not just an asshole, Syd. He pretended not to know me."
"Man. That's a dickish move."
"You think?" I frown down at my destroyed piece of cake, my heart slamming painfully in my chest. It shouldn't hurt so bad. "I mean, if it was just a random guy I talked to at a bar … but I used to know Jarett. He used to know me, too. We talked a lot."
Well, I talked a lot.
Details.
"He behaved like a douche." She sits up, tucks red curls behind her ears, and her golden hoops catch the light. "Wait a minute. Was he alone the second time you met?"
"Nah, he was with some buddies of his. Why?"
"Peacocking," she says with a straight face.
She can do that, say stuff like that all serious.
I guffaw. "What?"
"How guys behave in front of their guy friends. Peacocking. Showing off how macho and tough they are, and trying to impress women."
"You're making that up."
"Psychology 101, baby. It's legit."
"Well, the move didn't work on me. Obviously." I set my plate aside, my appetite all gone. "Besides, I doubt peacocking means you get to pretend not to know the girl you're supposedly trying to impress. That makes no sense."
She waves a hand back and forth. "It doesn't matter. What I meant is that he was probably acting differently because his friends were there. He was trying to seem, I dunno, tough and with chicks hanging off him, so many he can't even recall their faces … know what I mean?"
Yeah, a picture is starting to form, and my mouth twists in disgust. "You're saying he's a manwhore. And an asshole, if he turns into such a douchebag for his friends."
And my heart hurts, because I'd been so happy to see him again, to see he was okay, that he was still in town.
"You never said … why you never kept in touch with him after you moved?" Sydney is observing me as she twists a section of her hair into a tiny braid.
I shake my head. "Before we moved … we had a fight. He'd been in a mood, and … he told me not to talk to him again."
She hisses. "So being an asshole isn't something new for him."
"It was new to me. And later I tried calling him, finding him, despite what he said, but his Facebook and Instagram accounts were turned off. His number wasn't available, as if he'd changed it. And when I finally decided to go look for him, the house was up for rent."
"That's weird. So suddenly?"
"Yeah, just like that." I tug on my knee-high socks. These ones are black with white skulls at the top. I love my knee-high socks. "Like the dinosaurs. You know … a meteor hit, and poof. Wiped out. Gone."
"Oh my God." She throws a pillow at me, laughing. "You didn't just compare Jarett Lowe to a dino. Jarett Lowe, Gigi. You nuts? Guy's hotter than that meteor impact you mentioned." She fans her face with her hand. "He could wipe me out anytime."
I make a face at her. "Awkward metaphor, Syd. And since when do you have the hots for Jarett? I thought you never glanced his way twice."
"I don't have the hots. But I'm not blind, either. He's handsome. That's a proven, scientific fact."
"Whatever." Maybe it is a fact. He's attractive, no argument from me. But it pisses me off all the same.
And I have no clue why.
I bet it's because I'm already pissed off at Syd. Yeah, that must be it. I fold my hands over my knees and rest my chin on them.
She sighs. "Back to the guy in question. Maybe he didn't recognize you at first? Maybe he thought you were one of his stalkers?"
I frown harder. I like this even less. "But why would Jarett-"
The door to my bedroom flies open, and a blond head pokes through. "Hey, have you seen my tablet? Oh, hey, Sydney."
"Merc, jeez, don't you know how to knock?" I glare at my little brother who winks at me and shoots me a crooked grin. "We could be discussing something personal here."
"Like Jarett?" he asks, the cheeky bastard, glancing from me to Syd. "Jarett who?"
"None of your business," I say.
"Jarett Lowe," Sydney says, the traitor.
"That name rings a bell," Merc says, stepping into the room, his headphones hanging around his neck. He towers over us.
My little brother has just turned eighteen, and I swear, he's still growing. He can barely pass through doors without hitting his head, and he's been working out, so his chest and shoulders are bulging with muscles.
I still want to pat his head sometimes and give him cookies. Little brothers …
"Personal," I growl at him. "What about that word wasn't clear to you?"
He leans one shoulder into the wall and folds his arms over his chest, smirking. "I'm family. No secrets between us, right?"
"Since when?"
He ignores me. "Jarett, Jarett … " he mutters. "Wasn't he at our school? Hey, he used to live in our neighborhood. Now it's all coming back to me." His brows draw together. "Isn't that the guy you had a crush on?"
Dear God. I lift my hands up in the air. "Why does everybody think that?"
Merc pretends to think. "Maybe it was the way you followed him around like a lost puppy?"
"I never! That's it, you're out of here." I grab a pillow and throw it at him.
He knocks it out of the air and laughs. "You so did. Followed him every day after school."
Heat seeps into my cheeks. "I had my reasons for that, and you know it."
"I'll bet you had reasons." Merc winks.
"Oh my God, just go, Mercury."
"Not until you tell me why you two are talking about Jarett."
I lean back with a huff. "What business is it of yours?"
"Well … " He glances again between me and Sydney, a crease forming between his brows, as if he's debating whether to talk or not.
"Well, what?" Sydney asks.
"I thought I saw him recently, the other night in fact, so it's sort of a funny coincidence that you mentioned him."