Lost and Found (27 page)

She didn’t run off or glare at me as I approached; she just continued glancing between me and Jesse like she was trying to accept something impossible to accept.

When I stopped in front of her, she didn’t look behind me again. I wasn’t sure if that was because Jesse had moved on, or because she couldn’t look at him anymore.

“You want to talk?” I glanced at the door.

She bobbed her head.

I led the way through the crowd, and she followed. The night had taken so many unexpected turns. Good ones, bad ones. Good, bad. Good with the bad. Just as Jesse had said. I had to accept the bad with the good because it’s inevitable.

I didn’t say anything until we were outside and out of range of anyone who would listen.

I spun around and couldn’t get the words out fast enough. “Josie, I am so, so sorry you just saw that.”

She stared at the ground and crossed her arms. “But you’re not sorry for falling for my ex-boyfriend?” Her voice wasn’t especially sharp, but the words hit me like it was.

I didn’t want to lie to her, but I couldn’t lie to myself. I couldn’t make it seem like some shallow infatuation. “No, I’m not sorry for falling for Jesse,” I said slowly. Josie’s face lined. “But I am sorry for hurting you in the process. I’m very sorry for that.”

She chewed something out on her lip for a moment. “Why didn’t you say anything to me?”

“Up until a few minutes ago, I didn’t know what to say. I knew I liked Jesse. I knew he
used
to like me. I just wasn’t sure if he still did.”

Josie’s eyes closed. “I saw the way he was looking at you, Rowen. The way he was touching you.” She exhaled and leaned into the truck beside her. “If you’re still not sure if he likes you or not, I can tell you with a hundred percent certainty that he does.”

My heart burst at her words. It broke at her words. Damn, that was a hard discussion to have with the ex-girlfriend of the boy who made my heart go boom-boom.

“I’m sorry,” I said, because I had nothing else. I’d say it all night long if that’s what she needed to hear.

“No, I know, and honestly . . . I’ve had my suspicions that something’s been going on between you two for a while now,” she said. “It sucks, but it’s like what I told you inside. I knew when Jesse and I split up, that was a permanent thing. I knew there was no chance of us making up and moving on together. I knew he’d wind up with someone else. I was surprised he wasn’t seeing anyone sooner, given the parade the single girls practically had when they found out we’d split.” She kicked the toe of her boot into the dirt and continued to stare holes into the ground. “I also knew it would break my heart when I saw him with another girl, no matter who that girl was.” She glanced up at me and managed to form a small smile. “I guess at least I can say I like the girl he fell for.”

Another heart breaking/bursting moment. Josie had just found Jesse and me an inch away from lip-locked, and there she was, two minutes later, admitting that it sucked to see, but at least I had her stamp of approval. Why did the first girl I’d wanted to be friends with in a long time have to be the ex-girlfriend of the boy I liked?

Ah, yes. Thank you, Fates, for the reminder: life was unfair. More times than it wasn’t.

I did something totally out of character,
again
, and wrapped my arms around her to give her the most sincere, awkward hug in the history of hugs. “I’d understand if you wanted to hate my guts. I’d even say I deserved it.”

Josie made a noise that sounded like part laugh, part sob, then hugged me back. Hard. We were talking the hardest hug in the history of hugs. “It would probably be easier if I hated your guts. It would be easier if I could hate Jesse’s, too. But I can’t.”

I felt a couple of tears drop down my shoulder. “So you’re saying you don’t want to hate my guts? Because I’d fully support your decision if you did.”

When she made that same noise again, it was more laugh than sob. “I’m sure. But if you break Jesse Walker’s heart the way I did, I promise I will happily hate your guts then.”

I’d hate my own guts, too.

“Deal,” I said. “Any pointers on how to keep from breaking said heart?”

She leaned back to look me in the eyes. Hers were red and teary, but they were serious like nothing else. “Yeah. Stay away from Garth Black. As far as you can stay away. That guy doesn’t have a soul.”

I nodded, but I wasn’t so sure I believed that last part. I was pretty sure Garth had a soul. He’d just chosen to bury it way down deep, the way I had for so long. The keeping my distance part I had no issue following. After what I had learned, I’d avoid Garth Black at all costs.

“Okay, so stay away from Garth,” I said, lifting my index finger. “Anything else?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “Be good to him, Rowen. Jesse’s been through a lot. Don’t make him go through a lot more. He’s been through more in his nineteen years than most of us will go through in our lifetime.”

I pretended like I knew what she was talking about, but really, I didn’t. Jesse had the most idealistic life I’d stumbled across. Of course, I knew what we saw on the surface was just that: the top layer. There was so much more we never knew of other people, so much kept hidden beneath the surface.

Whatever Jesse’s past was, wherever his present led, one thing was certain: I wanted him in my future.

I pulled into Willow Springs a good four hours later. And not because I’d been making out in the parking lot of a honky tonk with Jesse Walker until we were both blue in the face, as I
wished
I would have been.

After Josie and I worked out what we needed to, she asked me if I wanted to get out of there, drive to the closest Dairy Queen, and gorge ourselves into an ice cream coma. I said yeah. Not because I wanted to do exactly that right then, but it was the
right
thing to do. Josie had been a friend to me when I needed one, and from the lost expression on her face, I could tell she needed a friend.

So I texted Jesse, letting him know I was going with Josie and asking if he’d take a rain check on that dance. He’d promptly replied,
I’ll take a rain check on *three* dances. But who’s counting?
Then Josie broke every traffic law in the state of Montana as we made our way to the Queen of Dairy.

A few hours, a couple of cherry-dipped cones, and one shared banana split later, we’d closed the place down. We’d talked. And talked. And talked some more. Surprisingly, Jesse’s name didn’t come up again after we’d gotten it out of our systems in the parking lot. We just talked about the stuff girls talk about. It had been a while since I’d had an intense session of “girl talk”, but it was . . . nice.

The Walkers’ Suburban was in the driveway, and all the lights were off inside the house. All the lights except for one. My stomach dropped when I saw the light streaming through Jesse’s window. Was he waiting up for me? Was he planning on “sneaking” back into my room? Was he still out and had just forgotten to turn out the light?

“The city girl and the country girl. B.F.F.s,” Josie said, interrupting my endless stream of questions. “Who would have thunk it?”

I smiled over at her. Other than crying off most of her mascara, the girl looked as stunning as she had at the start of the night. “I sure as hell wouldn’t have.”

“Yeah, me neither,” she said, “but I’m glad I gave the city girl a chance.”

I huffed and tried to look insulted. “I’m glad I gave the country girl a chance.”

“Yeah, yeah, get out of my truck already,” she teased, leaning over the steering wheel and looking up at the house. “It looks like a light through yonder window breaks.”

“Random Shakespeare pulls in everyday conversation?” I said, shooting her a thumbs up before climbing out of my seat. “I knew we were B.F.F.s for a reason.”

“Sweet dreams, Rowen,” she said, punching the accelerator the moment I closed the door.

I hurried up the stairs, and once I’d unlocked the door, I tried to open and close it as quietly as ancient-farmhouse-door possible. I really didn’t want to wake up the entire house. I wanted to see Jesse too badly. I had it so bad, if he didn’t climb his butt back down through my window within five minutes, I would climb my way up.

Once I was up the stairs, I knew I was almost in the clear. Just one long hallway to go, and I was golden. When I made it inside my room and closed the door, I did a mini-victory dance as I flicked the light on.

“Hi, Rowen.”

Holy heart attack. “Shit!” I hissed, dropping my purse on the floor. “I mean, shoot. What are you doing in here, Lily? You scared the”—she lifted her eyebrows at me—“
poop
out of me.” I lifted a hand to my chest to make sure my heart hadn’t exploded through my ribcage.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare the
poop
out of you.” She gave me the closest thing to a smirk Lily could make. “I heard you and Josie pull up, and I just wanted to tell you something real quick before you went to bed.”

Lily was in her nightgown, the makeup washed from her face, but the soft curls still draped down her back. “What did you want to tell me?” I asked as I walked over to the window to make sure it was still closed. The last thing I needed was for a half-naked Jesse to catapult through the window while his little sister was in my room. There would be no way to explain that.

“I just wanted to say thank you,” she said. “To say thank you for taking time to get me all dressed up and pretty this afternoon.”

“Lily, you’re pretty all the time. I just put some makeup on you and curled your hair.”

“Yeah, but I felt different.” She slid a chunk of curls behind her ear. “Almost like I was someone else.”

Crossing the room, I kneeled beside her where she sat on the edge of my bed. “Lily, don’t be someone else. Because I really like the person that you are.” I smiled up at her. “Don’t waste your time trying to be someone else. Just be the best
you
you can be.”

I saw the wheels turning in that sixteen-year-old brain of hers. I wasn’t much older than Lily, but I knew what wanting to be someone else was like. I knew what wanting to be anyone else was like. It was a huge waste. A person could try until they gave themselves an aneurism, but we can’t escape the soul and flesh we were given when we were born. The key was accepting that and getting on with your life.

I’d learned that lesson, but I hadn’t fully applied it yet. I was still working on the application part.

“I’m going to write that down in my journal,” Lily said ceremoniously. “Just be the best you you can be.”

“Sounds like a plan.” I stood up when she did.

She paused on her way to the door. “Is that what you do?”

There was the million dollar question. “Working on it,” I answered.

She nodded before heading out the door with a smile and a “Good night.”

Once I heard her bedroom door close, I did the same. I kicked off my boots and hurried to the window. I couldn’t get it open fast enough. Sticking my head out, I checked Jesse’s window. It was open, and the light was still on. I was just about to open my mouth to say his name when I realized five sets of ears might hear if any of them were light sleepers. So calling to him was out.

Maybe it wasn’t . . . My cell phone was a mere room length away. I could text him to get the heck down here, but then my eyes fell on the chimney. The one I’d been so sure he was certifiably insane to climb. Really, it wasn’t so bad. The cobblestones were big, and there were plenty of good foot and hand holds for a person to use to climb.

I felt alive tonight. I wanted to feel my heart in my throat. I wanted to feel adrenaline trickling into my veins. I wanted to
be
as alive as I felt. Plus, I really wanted to see the look on his face when I returned the favor of leaping into his window unexpectedly in the middle of the night.

My short, shift dress would make for easy climbing, and my boots were already off. I was as set to climb as I’d ever be. After sucking in a deep breath, I slid through the window until my legs dangled over the edge. My heart was halfway up my throat, and I hadn’t even set hand or foot to cobblestone.

Against every indication, I was a fairly practical girl. I knew that plan was not smart. I wasn’t an experienced climber, nor was I athletic, but I was also past the point of caring about what was smart. I just wanted to get inside of Jesse’s room.

If it wasn’t already documented somewhere, it needed to be: hormones had to be the leading cause of teenage injury.

The chimney was so close to my window I could touch it from where I sat on the window ledge, but the next part was the hardest. Giving up what was safe for what could be dangerous. Letting go of the known for the unknown was the scary part.

I closed my eyes, exhaled, gave myself an internal pep talk, then swung my leg over to the chimney.

My foot slid into a deep crevasse. One limb down, a mere three to go.

I exhaled again and reached out until my hand grabbed hold of a small stone. By that point, I was sweating, but I was halfway there and wouldn’t give up. I’d given up on so many things before; I wasn’t giving up tonight.

The next part, though, would be the hardest part. My left hand and foot were in place, but I couldn’t move my right hand or foot without moving both. Without leaving the safety of my perch. Before I could chicken out, I shook my right arm and leg to get the nerves out, then pivoted my core and swung both of them for the chimney.