Chapter 11

Chapter 11

I studied the label on a container of frosting in the grocery store aisle. I didn't have time to make cookies this year and I was trying to decide if I could live with the store-bought alternatives. It had taken Jack several minutes to speak to me again after coming face-to-face with Micah. When he did, he'd said, "Can we agree that in the future, we won't be breaking into yards? Especially the yards of our enemies?"

I could tell he was half-joking, half-serious with that comment, but I'd said, "Only if the need arises again."

"Darcy and Elizabeth Bennett," Jack said now.

I plopped the frosting into our cart, knowing sacrifices in food quality had to be made in the interest of time. After seeing that yard, decorating had to take precedence. "I guess by the end."

"Luke and Lorelei?" he asked.

"They were soooo grumpy. Too grumpy."

He let out a frustrated sigh. "Your past Valentine's Day parties may have been celebrating singleness, but I think you've rounded the corner to anti-love now."

"No way," I insisted, even though I had admitted that very thing to myself not an hour ago. I didn't want it to be true. I was clinging to my flame of hope so hard I was choking it.

"The bloody cookies you plan to make and the game of pin the knife on the heart would like to take the stand to testify."

I added a second tub of frosting to our basket that already contained Jack's vegetable tray, heart-shaped sugar cookies, bags of chips, and various other supplies we'd gathered on our walk through the store.

"Scarlett," he said.

I stopped pushing the cart and looked at him.

"Name an iconic couple. You haven't all year. It's only been me. In fact, you get this disgusted look on your face every time I say an iconic couple."

"I do not."

"You do."

"Romeo and Juliet," I spit out.

He shook his head. "They both die in the end. They were on your better off single list the first year."

"Were they?" I stared into his warm hazel eyes. They were so familiar and so comforting and I really could stare at them all day. I took a deep breath. "You and me."

"What?" he asked, going still.

"We're a pretty epic couple."

He lowered his brow in curiosity. "What do you mean...?"

"Couples don't always have to be in love to be epic, right?"

"Right," he said and continued walking. "Are we done here? Do we need anything else?"

"I don't think so," I said. "Let's make tonight epic."

"It looks like a vampire threw up in here," Jack said. "Is that the look you were going for?"

"It wasn't, but I'm not mad about it." He was right, the basement looked... bloody. Red everywhere. But not just red, dripping red. From the bloody heart decorations to drippy red frosting and bright red drinks, it was a vampire's lair for sure. We'd also extended the party into the backyard. Strung lights, arranged patio furniture, piled wood. People would take pictures.

"I like it," Jack said.

"Me too." I unwrapped a package of red solo cups. "What did Sage say? About waiting until tomorrow for an actual date."

"She said she figured that's what you'd say."

"Then why did she even ask?" I muttered, stacking the newly freed cups on the counter.

"What?" Jack teased. "Did you say something?"

"I said nothing."

He stepped behind me and tickled my sides then pulled me up against him and spun around once. "That's what I thought."

I let out a squealing laugh and kicked my feet. Then I went quiet because he still held me and all the tension in my shoulders was seeping down my spine and to the floor. His breath in my ear had me relaxing back against him.

"It's been a year," I said.

He didn't need me to explain what I meant. He nodded, his cheek moving against mine.

"I'm trying," I said. "But today is hard."

"I know," he said, squeezing me tighter.

"I still believe in love," I said, testing those words in my mouth.

"Good," he said. "Because you're very lovable." I knew he meant that in the most innocent way. Like how you say a dog is lovable or a... best friend. And yet my body warmed with his words, from the top of my head all the way down to my toes.

That had been happening more and more with him over this past year and I was having a harder and harder time ignoring it.

It was scary. I couldn't do something that would jeopardize my friendship with Jack. He was my everything. If I lost him after two months because—what was the reason that he and Sage had given?—the buildup was more fun than the actual relationship, I would lose everything.

I stepped out of his arms with a little laugh. "Yes, I'm very lovable." I pointed to the stairs. "I left something up there."

"What?" he asked, seeming to know I was looking for an excuse to be away from him. To cool down.

"Your mom," I said, rushing up the stairs.

I heard his laugh behind me and wondered if, like always, he knew exactly what just happened. If he did, would he say something? Would he tell me that he had felt nothing? That he'd stop hugging me if I was going to catch feelings? That my reactions were probably just in response to the year I'd been having anyway? I wanted none of those things to happen so avoidance was the only answer. I didn't need another reason to hate Valentine's Day.

His mom wasn't at the top of the stairs, of course, but my mom was.

When my parents had separated, my mom stayed in the house. My dad moved into a little one-bedroom apartment across town that didn't even have a room for me to stay in. Sometimes I slept on the couch, but for the most part, when we spent time together, we went out to eat or he cooked for me on that small apartment stove, and then I went home. I'd thought that having to live in an apartment alone would've had him reevaluating his feelings for Mom. But so far, it hadn't.

He was thriving in that tiny space, it seemed. He'd tell me about some hike he went on. Apparently, he was a hiker now, something Mom didn't like to do. I'd always point out that he could've done more things without her. Marriage wasn't the death of self. He'd say that priorities got in the way. I'd think, good thing you got your priorities in order now. I'd never say that last thing out loud because I wanted Dad to want to come home. There were only so many snarky things I could say in a visit before I'd drive an even bigger wedge between us.

"You ready for tonight?" Mom asked now, a smile on her face. "The food and decorations look good."

"Jack says it looks like a vampire threw up down there," I said.

She laughed.

"You're not going out tonight?" Maybe Dad had been waiting for tonight. For Valentine's Day, to make a grand gesture. It was a good day for those. The flicker in my chest grew stronger.

"No, honey," she said. "I'm not." If a grand gesture was in the works, she wouldn't know yet.

"Well, I just needed to grab the..." A stack of white napkins sat on the counter. Not the ones I bought for the party but I picked them up and held them in the air like they were exactly what I was looking for.

Instead of going back downstairs, I went to the bathroom, shut myself inside and breathed deep for a few moments.

"Hey, Scarlett," Mom said at the door. I thought maybe she was going to say something encouraging, comforting, but instead she said, "Jack's brother is at the door."

Topher and Jack couldn't have been more different. Topher was stalky and muscular where Jack was tall and lean. Topher had light eyes to Jack's hazel and hair that looked like it belonged to a Greek god—all wavy and voluminous. Okay, they had similar hair. But Topher never smiled, and he was so negative. Always finding the worst thing to say in every situation. When Jack was around, I was relaxed, myself. With Topher I was tense, on edge. Like now at the door.

"Hey, loser," he said. "Where's my brother?"

"What do you need?" I asked.

"Not you," he said, stepping past me and looking around.

"He's downstairs," I said, hoping this would be a quick encounter.

I followed him down.

Jack must've heard us coming because before we made it down, he said in his teasing voice, "Why did you run out of here?"

When Topher appeared, his smile fell from his face. Topher took in the room and barked out a laugh. "This is the infamous party? It looks like it was decorated by an eighth grader."

Like always, Jack didn't respond. He just patiently waited.

"Dad said he gave you money for some supplies. I'm supposed to get the change."

"There was no change," I said. "Don't you have a job?"

He was nineteen now, graduated last year.

"Was I talking to you, Red?" He thought it was funny when he called me a different shade of my name.

I looked at Jack to see if he was going to say anything but he just gave me the expression that said, let it go. He was tense around his brother too. I could see it in his stiff shoulders and clenched jaw.

Topher walked over to the counter and picked up a cookie, taking a bite. "You have nothing?" he asked, spitting crumbs.

Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out two one-dollar bills. Topher snatched them from him and left without another word.

"Don't say it," Jack said to me after we listened to him stomp up the stairs and let himself out the front door.

"How do you know what I was going to say?" I asked.

"I should stand up to him."

"That's not what I was going to say," I said, even though that had been my first thought.

He sighed, looking defeated. "What were you going to say?'

"I was going to say, how are you so sweet when you have to live with that?"

"Sweet?" he asked like it was a bad thing.

"Such a good guy," I said.

"A good guy?" he asked, like that was worse.

"What's wrong with being a good guy?"

"Nothing," he groaned.

Just when I thought I could read Jack like a book, he did things like this and I was left utterly confused.