Falling for a Bentley Page 5
“How do you two even know each other?” I stammer.
Jonah goes to explain, “My mom…”
“It’s none of her business. Come on, let’s go.” Keria takes one of his strong arms (I know they’re strong because I’d felt them around me while he’d kissed me) and pulls him away before he can finish explaining. He doesn’t seem to mind following her wherever she leads him, another one of Keira’s mindless slaves.
I can see it now, Jonah, struggling to keep up with her in the hallways at school, his arms loaded down with books, her purse slung over his shoulder shrinking his male creditability. He’ll rush off on his break to pick her up a box of tampons down at the nearest convenient store. She’ll flirt and giggle and he’ll become a babbling, incoherent idiot without a spine.
“Hold up!” he says stopping the middle of the drive and turning. “Do you need a ride?” he asks me.
“She can get her boyfriend to drive her home,” Keira panics.
“I don’t mind. Really,” Jonah adds. I witness a ghost of a smile and I stop breathing.
My gaze slides to Colton, who appears worried that I might actually take Jonah up on his offer. Colton has been drinking. He has no business driving anyone home. I can’t drive a straight drive so me driving Keria’s car is out.
“Okay, thanks,” I start down the drive.
Colton runs up next to me and grabs my elbow causing me to stop dead in my tracks.
“You’re not going with them,” he orders.
“Um, yes, I am.” I jerk my arm free.
I ignore Colton and walk away. He almost trips over his own feet trying to keep up. “Okay, if you’re going, I’m going too. No way in hell is my girlfriend riding off with that freak. I don’t like the way he was looking at you or kissing you earlier.”
Jealously? A little late isn’t it? Where had the jealousy been … I don’t know, say, two hours ago when he’d ushered me off the kiss another guy?
We reach Jonah’s truck and I stop. Colton stands there, waiting. I know what he wants. He wants me to say something that will reassure him. He is feeling insecure, really insecure. The feeling is foreign to him. He wants me to say the kiss meant nothing. He wants me to talk crap about Jonah’s technique. I know this because I’ve did the same thing myself whenever I’ve blamed him for liking Keria so I could hear him deny it.
I realize in that moment, I don’t want to reassure Colton that everything is okay. He deserves to worry like I have.
“Go. Enjoy your party, Colton. I don’t need you to supervise. ” I turn back toward the truck.
Keira grabs the silver handle on the passenger side door and swings the heavy door open. We both study the one long seat. She goes to get in first, but then suddenly Jonah’s hand is on my elbow, ushering me up into the cab first. “Hop in.” Once Keria crawls in he slams the truck door and walks around to his side.
“You knew I wanted to sit there,” she grumbles, her eyes lowered as she attempts to dig something out of her purse.
Knuckles rap on glass. Colton’s white teeth show in the passenger side window causing me to jump, startled.
I lean across Keira and crank the window down. “What Colton?”
“Text me as soon as you get home. I mean it, as soon as you get there.”
Before I have a chance to reply Jonah is next to me in the driver’s seat, his right thigh warm, pressing up against mine. Again I see something resembling a smile as he starts the truck. Every nerve ending in my body seems to come alive. He smells amazing. Like freedom and the unknown.
Colton points at Jonah from the passenger side window. Both guys lock gazes. “You do anything to hurt my girl and I’ll kick your ass.”
The truck suddenly lurches backwards almost clipping Colton’s toes. I stifle a giggle. Horrible. I know.
“You shouldn’t taunt him. It’s not nice,” I tell Jonah.
A corner of Jonah’s mouth rises and I know he’s trying hard not to laugh too.
Colton’s palm smacks the hood of the truck. “I mean it Stevens, TOUCH HER and you’re mine!”
Keria yells out the window. “What is wrong with you? Jesus, chill! You’re making my head hurt.”
Both Jonah and I burst out laughing. Keria just stares at us like we’re crazy.
As soon as Jonah turns out of Colton’s development Keira retrieves another mini bottle of Jack Daniels from the stash hidden in her purse. Presto. It’s like magic. They just keep coming.
“Do you have an entire bar it that thing?” I ask.
She ignores my question, breaks another seal and takes a long chug. The truck is dark, but I can still see her unsteady hands and heavy eyelids.
Jonah glances over. “She’s right. You should stop drinking, Ker. You don’t need to show up at your house drunk.”
“Maybe you should worry about all the rumors that will be circulating Monday after the little show you two put on back at the party,” she returns.
“You know I don’t care what people say,” Jonah replies.
My head is going back and forth as if I’m watching a volleyball tournament. I feel like a barrier between the two of them. I suddenly wonder why Jonah wanted me here: to be near me or to separate him and Keria. The thought does funny things to my insides.
“Yeah, you’ve told me,” Keria throws back at him, gathering her hair in a ponytail. She cranks the window down, focusing all her attention on the tree’s zipping by on the side of the road. There’s an awkward vibe in the cab of the truck.
Why oh why did I kiss Jonah Stevens?
I want to forget about that kiss, especially as I avoid meeting his gaze in the rearview mirror. Several times I’ve felt his eyes on me.
I look ridiculous with my hair switching my face, the sting painful. I pull a wild spit covered strand free from the corner of my mouth and pin my flapping bangs to my head with a palm. The night air roars, whipping into the cab from the passenger side window. Goosebumps rise on my bare arms. The night air holds a chill. Finally, unable to take the beating any longer, I elbow her.
“Oh, I’m sorry! Is that too much air on you?” She cranks her window up a few inches, not enough to make any real difference. This has nothing to do with trying to get fresh air. She is doing this on purpose to make me suffer, to prove a point.
“Roll the window up or I’ll make you roll it up,” I tell her.
“You wouldn’t dare,” she laughs, not even blinking an eye. She’s pretty confident in her statement. “You don’t have it in you.”
“Keira, just roll up the window,” Jonah adds.
Several minutes go by of her ignoring both our demands. You know the old saying ‘I wouldn’t even bring you a glass of ice water in hell’?
Yeah, I think that pretty much applies here.
She makes a point of casually chugging from her little bottle. She yawns.
“Okay, whatever, I warned you.” I lunge over her lap, stretch and start cranking the window up…
“Hey! Stop it!” Her nails dig into the flesh on my arm.
Two can play that game. I grab a handful of her most prized possession, her hair.
“Ouch! Let go!” She cries.
“Not until you roll the freaking window up! OW! OW! Stop biting me!” I smack at her. She’s like a rabid animal, all teeth and slobber, a rabid animal that has been doing the backstroke in a barrel of alcohol.
“Stop it! You’re both acting crazy!” I kind of hear Jonah shout.
It’s hard to pay attention with someone’s elbow up your nose. The truck swerves and I lose my balance, the weight of my body being thrown over on Jonah. My left hand lands in between his legs, my wrist rubbing up against his groin.
“You’re going to make me wreck if you two don’t chill the hell out!” He growls.
All my attention is suddenly fixated on that part of him. I do not want to look up at him, especially while my hand is where it is. I quickly remove it and raise my eyes to his. Could I be any more embarrassed?
Apparently so as he snaps, “She’s drunk. What’s your excuse?”
“My excuse for what?” My voice comes out small. I feel small, about as small as a pebble on the bank of a river.
“You’re reason for attacking her?” he explains.
He has not lived my life. I am tired of taking Keira’s crap. I am tired of excusing my boyfriend’s obsession with her. I am tired of always doing as I’m told. I am tired of people always assuming I’ll take whatever they dish out. Mostly I’m just tired. Jonah doesn’t know me. He can’t possibly know or understand.
Sighing, I straighten with a huff. No answer comes from my mouth, because honestly, I don’t have one. I focus all my attention out the window. Tonight has gotten way out of control. I’ve lost my best friend, fought with my cousin, and kissed a guy who is not my boyfriend. Even worse I want to kiss him again. Great. Can my night possibility get any worse?
“Pull over!” Keria’s cheeks puff out and her face goes white. She struggles frantically with the truck door handle even though the truck is moving.
Uh oh, I’ve seen that look before. “Better listen, unless you want puke all over your truck.”
“Oh, shit!” Jonah slams the brake. Keria’s door swings open and she’s gone.
I’d told myself I wouldn’t hold her hair if she puked. It was a total lie. I get out, walk over, and crouch down beside her bent form on the ground. “Keria, you need to stop drinking so much.”
She clutches her stomach and hurls again, gagging sounds filling the night. She wipes tears from the corners of her eyes and laughs, actually laughs right after vomit spews out her nose. She asks, “Do we really have to talk about this now?”
I laugh too because this is the Keria that I like: the crazy, funny side of her.
I tell her, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me tonight. I shouldn’t have been so mean.”
“Just don’t ever do it again,” is her response.
“Um, I’m pretty sure you … never mind, just forget it.” I was going to say she deserved it, but I’m tired of fighting with her.
“You okay?” Jonah asks kneeling on the other side of Keria. He had missed the worst part, but hey, I never expected him to actually get out of his truck to check on her. I’ve never thrown up from drinking before, I’ve tasted the stuff, but that’s it. Once I’d had a stomach bug though and puked like crazy. Colton came over to watch T.V. He never once got up to help me or check on me. I’m pretty sure he’d just come over because he and his parents had gotten into a major fight. I remember struggling to stay awake on the couch while he talked nonstop about it. Two days later he came down with the same bug and was mad at me for a week for giving it to him.
“Yeah, no thanks to you!” Keria tells Jonah giving him a playful shove. “How about staying on the road next time.”
“It wasn’t my fault. I was distracted by the two hot chicks wrestling in my truck.” His lip twitches.
Keria punches his arm and he yelps, rubbing the spot with his hand.
“You’re got some grass on your….” He grins brushing off her rear-end. The red in Keria’s cheeks is obvious in the moonlight. She stumbles in her stilettos and in one fluid motion he sweeps her up, carrying her back to his truck. The way they interact with one another causes jealously to flare deep inside me.
The rest of the short ride to my house is made in silence. Tension crowds the cab, the three of us elbow to elbow. I want to go home and forget this night ever happened. Jonah clears his throat and I catch a flicker of his blue eyes in the rearview mirror, then they are gone concentrating on the road.
Keria admits she’s pretty tired and asks if she is still welcome to spend the night at my house. I figure this is code for ‘Tori and I have some things to discuss,’ because yeah, we kind of do.
I’m dreading this talk more than I dread a calculus test. Later, at my house, my body feels shaky and uncertain inside as we stumble into the kitchen wearing our PJ’s. I get out two glasses, milk, and a pack of Oreo’s. Keira is a licker; she likes to lick the creamy middle out, and then dunk the chocolate cookie part in her milk. I am the exact opposite (non-licker) scraping the sickening sweet creamy center off, and then dunking the chocolate cookie in my milk. It is a ritual with us. We take our Oreo’s very serious.
Keria leans an elbow on the granite countertop and opens her mouth, showing her tongue coated with the white cream mixed with a glob of spit.
“Tell me, what does this remind you of.” She grins as if she’s clever.
I wrinkle my nose and shove her shoulder.
“Gross, Keria. Is that all you ever think about.”
She closes her mouth, focusing on twisting her next cookie apart, her expression suddenly serious. “No it’s not. I like Jonah, Tori. More than I’ve ever liked any guy.”
“You can have the rest.” I slide the cookies her way. “My stomach’s been feeling funny all night.”
She laughs. “Well then, don’t go around Colton. You know how pissed he got the last time you made him sick. Can I have your icing?”
“Sure.” I slide my icing toward her too. She can have it all—she usually gets it anyways.
Keira studies my face for a moment. She exhales a frustrated breath, “There’s a lot you don’t know, Tori. Dad left us a couple of years ago.” At my shocked expression she explains, “My mom doesn’t want your mom to know so this goes no further than here. Mom has been pretending to be fine when she’s around family, because she is too ashamed for anyone to know the truth.” Keria closes the pack of cookies and frowns, apparently no longer in the mood for sweets either. “Anyways, my mom drank a lot while they were together. Yeah. She’s was good at hiding that too. I guess the drinking was her way of coping with my dad’s affairs. They fought all the time. I hated it. Eventually dad just gave up … on her and on me. I haven’t seen him since he left.” She sniffs. “I wasn’t that shocked about him leaving. I mean, he was never really ever there anyways; the only thing we missed was his money. I was happy he was gone. I thought things would get better and my mom would finally be happy. After Dad left, the opposite happened and her drinking got worse. We were forced to move. Downsize mom called it. She couldn’t afford the payments on the house we were living in any longer.” Keria wipes away the tears streaming down over her high cheekbones, cheek bones I’ve envied for so long. “We live in a major dump now, that’s why I never invite anyone over, well that, and my mom’s tendency to get plastered and have over one of her scummy boyfriends.”
“Why didn’t your mom ask my mother for help?”
“Your mother is so judgmental. She only sees things as black or white. She wouldn’t be able to deal with the truth.”
I pull Keria into a hug feeling pretty much like crap. We stand there in the kitchen in baggy plaid pajamas and thick white socks, silent, hugging for the longest time. I don’t know my cousin very well. There’s this whole other side to Keria that makes us strangers, pretending to be family on the surface, but not really anything underneath.
“I’m so sorry, Keria. I never knew. Why didn’t you ever tell me?” I ask.
She pulls back, her face wet with tears and pinched with pain. “I didn’t want anyone to know.”
“Not even me? You should have told me.”
“I was afraid.”
“Afraid of what?” I push for more, something I should have done a long time ago.
“I don’t know, you always seem to have it so together,” she returns.
I snort because apparently she’s overlooked how screwed up I am. How many girls hide in their basement carving birds? How many girls bury their emotions and never cry?
Keria goes over to our kitchen table and sinks into a chair as if she has nothing left to give. I join her, sitting across from her. It has been a long night. I’ve never seen Keira such a mess. For the first time I am the one that seems to have it together, the strong one. Only it’s all an illusion and I’m not really strong at all. I guess we’re both messes. I
distance myself from people, never fully connecting and so does she.
She runs a fingertip along the polished cherry wood table top, the oil on her fingertip leaving a trail of haze. “My mom’s been sober for a couple of months now. I think she might be able to do it this time. I don’t know. I hope so.” Keira’s posture relaxes. “She has an awesome sponsor this time.” The color in her cheeks brightens. “Jonah’s mother, Charlotte, is my mom’s sponsor. She is the sweetest, most amazing lady you’ll ever meet. She doesn’t take my mom’s crap which is great.”
The nausea returns.
“So I’m guessing Jonah’s been over to your house?” I ask, suddenly needing to know. I need to know if Keria has shared parts of her life with Jonah before anyone else. That kind of would make him special, wouldn’t it? The special one—what every guy has strived to be.
Ugh.
Her eyes drop to a fingernail, a fingernail she inspects. “Jonah comes over a lot with his mom. Usually whenever my mom was high or had been drinking. My mom’s supposed to call Charlotte anytime she considers taking a drink or using so Charlotte can talk her out of it. At first I despised Jonah, thinking he’d blab how pathetic my mom is to everyone at school. I mean, if I were him I’d probably tell everyone after the way I’ve treated him, but he promised he would never tell anybody. He has kept that promise, which, judging by the crappy men my mom chooses to have in her life, a guy you can trust is pretty awesome and a rare thing. He’s actually pretty funny and smart too. He has ever tried to make a move, which honestly is a little confusing.”
Keira McKinley is gushing, going on and on, ticking off every amazing quality this guy possesses, and I kind of fade away in my own thoughts. Jonah is the reason for all her questions earlier, not Colton. He was the one she wanted to get to ask her out. I have been way off. He is a one-time deal for Keria. She knows him, trust him, and likes him for reasons that have nothing to do with his appearance or how popular he is, because he’s not. He knows her better than I do. He knows the real Keria, the one she hide’s from the rest of us.
Oh man, Jonah Stevens is totally off limits to me.
“So yeah, I think I’m in love with him,” she mutters, blushing profusely.