Believe in Spring (Jett #8)(9)
“I love you too,” I say back. It’s not a lie, and he knows it.
We take our stuff into the hotel and check in. Our room is on the first floor, which kind of sucks because I like looking out windows of somewhere high up so I can see the whole town below.
Not two seconds after we make it into our hotel room does someone knock on the door. Loudly. Annoyingly.
“Open up!” Clay yells. “We’ve been here for hours!”
Jett opens the door and the three guys from his team all barrel into our room. “It’s been more like half an hour,” Aiden says. “But we didn’t want to walk the track until you got here.”
“Although I think we should get a sneak peek so we have a chance to beat you,” Zach says to Jett, then he tosses a wink to me. “Not that it would help.”
Jett laughs. “You want to go check out the track now?”
“Yeah, then we need dinner,” Zach says.
Jett walks over to me and takes my hands in his. He lowers his voice so only I can hear. “Do you want me to tell them to go on without us?”
I stare into his eyes, feeling guilty for all the concern in them. He knows I’m hurting and he’ll do whatever it takes to make me feel better. But this is his race, and we’re here for him to advance his career. I can’t just let it all go to hell because I feel like shit. I shake my head. “I think I’ll stay here, but you go ahead.”
He gives me a look like he really doesn’t like that idea.
I put my hand on his chest. “Babe, I’m serious,” I say with a little smile. “Go check out the track. I’m tired, and I just want to watch TV.”
“Okay,” he says, pulling me in to kiss my forehead. “Call me if you need anything.”
I wave to the guys and as soon as they’re gone, the door closed behind them, I rush up and twist the deadbolt into place. And then I rest my head against the cool wooden door and start to cry.
I know I should stay away and take Jett’s advice and just ignore all the drama online, but I can’t. I am weak, and pathetic. I am just as worthless as they say I am.
I sit on the edge of the crisply made hotel bed and open up Twitter on my phone. It’s bad enough that this girl blasted me online with lies and horrible name-calling, but she’s even tagged me in some of them. My tears come harder as I scroll through the vile on Twitter.
There are a few people replying, telling me not to worry about those bitches, but their kind words don’t help at all. The mean words cut into me, lashing my heart wide open. The few nice things here and there are nothing more than tiny bandages that don’t help.
Jett’s last tweet makes me smile a little. He’s being an amazing boyfriend by standing up for me, which is more than I could have asked for. All of the replies to his post are nice, and I’m wondering if that’s because he’s blocked anyone who says anything negative. Probably. For the millionth time, I wish I had just kept my mouth shut at that restaurant. I should have let her talk about me to her friend. I should have walked away. But instead, I thought I was standing up for myself and all I did was make this girl dig up dirt on me and unleash it into the world. I’m used to being called a skank, or unworthy of Jett. That’s been happening since the day we started dating. And it sucks and it hurts, but for the most part, I’m used to it.
This time it hurts worse. She brought up a person from my past. I’ve spent the last two years becoming a new person with a new life. I threw away all of the memories of my past the day my biological mother disowned me, and I’ve looked forward to a new life that’s better.
But this just makes me realize something I hadn’t thought of before. I can get a new last name and new parents and a new house, but I’ll never stop being the girl I used to be. I was born trash and I’ll always be trash. I tried to run away from it, but that didn’t matter.
Jett will see through this one day, I know he will.
I drop my phone and bury my face into the pillow, letting the tears pour out for what feels like a very long time. Every time I close my eyes, I see that last tweet I read before turning off my phone.
That girl’s words are burned into my memory, staring me right in the face.
Jett deserves so much better than some trailer trash whore. We should make it our mission to convince him to leave her.
I can’t say I blame them. Yeah, I never actually slept with JJ, but my mom did. I was trash. I am trash. I still sit at a fancy restaurant with my family and wonder how they do this knife and fork thing with their food when I’ve never been taught how to eat all classy like that. I barely know anything about motocross. Jett deserves someone better. He deserves a girl that grew up in the sport and knows all about it. Maybe even a girl that also rides dirt bikes so they can go riding together.
Guilt weighs me down as I sit up and try to dry my tears. I know what they’re saying on Twitter is true. Jett deserves better. But I still don’t want to give him up. He is the best part of me.
There’s a soft knock on the hotel door, and it makes me jump. “Delivery,” someone calls out. It doesn’t sound like any of the guys’ voices, so I hope they’re not playing a prank on me.
I wipe at my eyes and try to compose myself and then I open the door just a crack. A huge display of flowers fills the air. I open the door all the way and see a man from the hotel holding the huge bouquet.