Scared of Beautiful (Scared #1)(38)
My fork lands on my plate with a resounding clank. “Photographic evidence Jade, remember? Plus, you told me yourself that he wasn’t a one-woman guy when I first met him. Old habits die hard, and all that.”
“I also said that I have never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you,” she argues.
“I thought you believed that he was guilty. Why the sudden change of heart, why advocate for him now?” I ask, a little harsher than I intend.
“He’s telling the truth Maia, I know he is. He is totally and completely lost without you. Trust me, if I believed for even a second that something had happened with Amber, I would not be having this conversation with you.” Jade looks at me, green eyes pleading. “Just talk to him, please, for me. For the friend who unpacked a whole apartment full of your furniture alone, while you were sleeping.”
I laugh in spite of myself. My heart still aches from Jackson’s betrayal, but agreeing to talk to him has lifted an invisible weight that I didn’t know I was under. As we planned a day’s shopping over coffee, a familiar figure walked over to our table. Not Jackson, no such luck.
Bryce. “Ladies,” he greets with his irritatingly nasal voice, which exudes pomp and arrogance.
“Bryce,” I nod back dismissively.
“I’ve missed you on campus Maia, been looking for you,” Bryce continues in a voice that I can only guess is supposed to be low and sexy, completely unperturbed by the fact that I’m not even looking at him.
“You shouldn’t have,” I say, the words dripping with sarcasm.
Eventually it dawns on him that he is not welcome, and Bryce says goodbye. “We should hang out sometime,” he says, “and your friend can come to.” He winks at Jade as he turns to walk away.
“You’re not my type sweetie,” Jade answers.
“I’m everybody’s type,” Bryce retorts over his shoulder.
“My type doesn’t have a penis,” Jade calls back melodically. Bryce pretends not to hear, in the process nearly spilling his coffee down his shirt. Jade and I break into hysterics as he walks quickly out of the door.
As we shop, I fill Jade in on the copious sagas that make up my past life: why Bryce is an *, my virginity, Morgan. We also talk about my mother, and even my father. And for the first time, I feel as if I have unloaded the heaviness that usually clouds my head and weighs me down. Jade listens indiscriminately and without prejudice to everything I say. The few times I look towards her, there is no judgment in her eyes. Just understanding. I realize then that so much of my life has been filled with bullshit, and after drowning my sorrows with spending a small fortune on myself and Jade (which is difficult to do in Providence), we head back to the apartment. My decision is made. I’ll listen to Jackson, but I can’t fall so hard, so fast again. For anyone. Even if I wanted to believe him, something in me won’t give.
Chapter 20
Jackson
Walking up to Maia’s apartment feels as though I’m walking down Death Row. I have no idea how this will go, and no idea what she will say. My heart beats erratically, as if it may just bound right out of my chest. Sticky sweat coats my palms as I clench and unclench my fists nervously. They’ve been this way since Jade called me to tell me that Maia finally agreed to talk to me. Just tell her what happened. What’s the worst that can happen? The chant plays over and over in my head. The more cynical part of my brain says that it can’t be worse than Maia thinking that you screwed a stripper, but it can if she tells you she never wants to see you again. Just before I reach the top step of the walk-up, my every instinct tells me to turn around and walk away, but I can’t. From the day I met her, I never could.
Just as I raise my hand to knock, I hear the sound of melodic laughter and happy chatter fill the hallway. Maia’s voice calms me instantly. f-uck the other drugs. She’s my drug. The only one I want. I should play it cool, lean against the wall, do something. Damn it, my feet are rooted to the floor. It had already taken me over an hour to choose a shirt to wear. Stop being a bitch!
As they round the stairs to the landing, hauling with them the entire contents of a small boutique in shopping bags, I opt for standing still. Maia sees me first and freezes mid step on the penultimate stair. Jade ploughs into her and opens her mouth to curse, before realizing what caused her sudden halt. Without a word, Maia walks over and unlocks the door, barely looking in my direction. I feel like a fool standing here.
“Come on,” Jade says gesturing me inside. The minute I enter the apartment, I see that Jade has had a hand in the decorating. Every piece of furniture is symmetrical, every little ornament perfectly placed. The keys even have their own small bowl on the hall table. Bitter anger rises in my throat. I was supposed to be doing this with Maia. And I would have, if not for f-ucking Emmanuel.
Jade drops her bags into the spare bedroom and quickly excuses herself to grab a coffee down the street. Maia pretends to busy herself in the kitchen, while I fidget nervously with my keys, still standing bolt upright next to the closed door. Neither of us speaks for what feels like days.
Thankfully, just before I lose the ability to stop myself from stabbing my own eyes out with my keys as a result of the sheer awkwardness of this moment, Maia turns to me. “Do you wanna sit down?” she asks nervously. I meet her eyes, and where I once saw absolute affection, I’m met with emptiness. Ice cold. I would give anything for her to look at me the way she did last week.