At 11:25 pm on Tuesday night, I received a text message.
From Jackass:
hi
Really? He'd ignored me ever since we woke up on that boat together and now he had the nerve to "hi" me? I replied back:
Hey. What do you want?
At 11:39 pm, he sent me his second message.
From Jackass:
nothing in particular
I could think of a dozen things he could say. Now he was backing out? I messaged him back:
Why'd you text me then?
There had been no reply.
❀ ❀ ❀
In the light, misty rain, I was heading to the bus stop closest to school when someone touched my shoulder.
I turned to face none other than Jack.
"What do you want?" I asked harshly. His presence alone, everything from the damp wisps of hair on his head to his startled expression, made me want to blow up. To tell him off for showing his appreciation for me dealing with his drunk ass by quitting his job. For ignoring me today and anytime I actually wanted to talk to him. Except for his text last night, but I wouldn't count that.
But before I could say anything, he pulled out his phone. I crossed my arms, exasperated as I waited. It'd been infinitely easier for him to just talk, but soon enough:
From Jackass:
i'm sorry about the shop
I scoffed. "Were you the one who broke into it?"
He shook his head, wiping rain droplets from his eyes.
"Then you shouldn't be sorry. Unless you're sorry about everything else. Like, I don't know, ignoring me? Avoiding me at the first sign of conflict?"
From Jackass:
i'm sorry, romy
Those four letters, r-o-m-y, staring at me from my glass screen, felt the same as if he'd said them out loud. And worse, I remembered exactly how they sounded when he said it. My name.
From Jackass:
i've been thinking a lot. and i feel i acted foolish with you. and that you deserve better.
"What's that supposed to mean? You're not going to run away anymore?"
He looked down. Today, he wore a blue hoodie and faded, frayed jeans, but all I could think about was the image of him in his smiley face underwear.
I sighed. "My biological mother will be working at the shop now that you're gone."
He furrowed his thick brows in what could've been concern.
"It shouldn't be too bad if I don't talk to her," I said. "My dad says it's only until she gets another job. However long that takes."
Silence. Jack blinked rapidly then scrambled for his phone.
From Jackass:
do you want me to come back?
Was I really making myself that obvious, or was he getting really good at reading me?
"Oh no, it's too late for that," I lied. "You already quit. It'll be Grace cleaning and doing the boring work you usually do."
Jack shook his head. His shoulders slumped. He looked up at the sky so he wouldn't meet my gaze. And a few moments later...
From Jackass:
i was being impulsive. i panicked. it was a mistake.
I smiled. I had him exactly where I wanted him.
"Well, there is one thing you can do."
❀ ❀ ❀
On Wednesday night, Jack and I met up at the ruined flower shop. Once Seth came, I wanted him to see the scene of the crime. The broken window, yellow tape across the pane, the surviving victims of the floral massacre—a few roses and daffodils—gone, with only stray petals littering the place.
From Jackass:
i knew i wouldn't be able to stop you from doing something reckless like this
"Since when am I the reckless one?"
From Jackass:
but i won't let you go alone
I elbowed him lightly. "My helpless prince wants to save me this time? Why, thank you."
I could see his glare even in the night's darkness. He elbowed me back, huffing a little under his breath.
From Jackass:
if i come with you, will you let me work again?
"That was the deal, wasn't it?"
But something didn't add up. Was he agreeing to come with me because he felt bad about ignoring me? Or was he really just wanting his job at the shop again? But why? Would he tolerate the embarrassment of seeing me again only so I wouldn't have to be around Grace? Or, more like he realized he needed the money, and any other job would require him to confront his worst nightmare, talking to people.
Finally, Seth pulled up in his sleek, silver car.
"Damn," he said when he got out and surveyed the damage. "I swear I didn't do any of this."
I rolled my eyes, wanting to believe he was too much of an idiot to pull it off anyway. At least Talia had gotten plenty of photos for social media. Donations kept coming in steadily, though the police didn't have any leads. But who needed them when I had Seth here? Cue the sarcasm.
"Sure you didn't," I told him. "But you're taking us to who did, right? Your frat boy friends? Pizza tattoo guy, that ring a bell?"
Seth nodded hesitantly. "Yeah, everyone's at the race tonight."
My phone buzzed.
From Jackass:
isn't it a school night
I showed Seth the text, and he laughed. "They're in college, bro. What, you scared of missing your curfew?"
From Jackass:
seth, i demand an apology
I raised an eyebrow, but Jack motioned for me to show my phone to Seth again.
"You serious right now?" Seth asked. I noticed he was wearing a ridiculous fuzzy scarf—probably his only chance at hiding the hickeys on his neck. He definitely didn't want his friends seeing that.
Jack started typing on his phone again.
"You could just have my number instead of texting her first," Seth offered. "She's not your translator, bro."
And so began their text message conversation. I admit I was nosey and wanted to listen in, but Jack gave me a stern look, and I walked away to give them some "space". Faintly, I heard Seth's voice.
"Because... I don't even know why. Eli gave me a whole speech the other day, so I don't wanna talk about it anymore. But yeah. I'm, uh, sorry."
He sounded like he was in physical pain saying his half-assed apology. Honestly, relatable.
Then, presumably after another one of Jack's messages:
"You're talking about me pushing you around? Whatever. Either accept it or don't. I'm not gonna worry about shit I did, like, two months ago."
A pause. Then Seth's voice again, fainter this time, too quiet for me to hear. Then another pause, each longer and more tense than the last.
And not long after that, I heard loud smacks and grunts and punches being thrown. At the front of the shop, Jack and Seth were once again going at it with the fist fight.
"He punched me!" Seth screamed. "Little shit punched me!"
"Seth, stop!" someone called out. I looked up to see Eli, getting out of the passenger seat of Seth's car. Had he really been in there this whole time?
"What are you doing here?" I asked. I would've gladly stuck around to watch the fight, but Eli got between the two of them, putting one hand on Jack's chest.
"Enough," Eli said. "What's wrong with you? Haven't you ever heard of violence isn't the answer?"
Jack, as usual, remained silent. Seth spat on the ground. "Yeah, violence is his answer when he doesn't fuckin' talk." He pushed Eli aside and got closer to Jack, trying to match himself to his height. "Alright, mute boy. You wanna beat me up? Do it. I deserve it anyway. Just save it for later, because we're gonna be late."
My psychologists could go on and on about healthy communication skills and talking about your feelings instead of acting on them. Right now it looked like these two could definitely learn a thing or two about that.
"This was the worst idea ever," Eli mumbled. "And Romy, you're not even doing anything!"
"To be quite honest I was just about to start placing my bets on who would win," I joked, but Eli only looked at me with disapproval. "What are you doing here anyway?"
"I genuinely don't know," he said.
I gave Eli what was supposed to be a friendly pat on the shoulder, and he shook his head and turned to Seth. "So, are we going to the race or not?"
❀ ❀ ❀
After forty-five minutes of driving and following Seth's car on the highway, the city lights growing dimmer, Jack increasingly anxious in the passenger seat, we arrived.
Since Jack did not have a car, I'd asked Talia to borrow hers. If we wrecked it tonight, oh well, she could use the money from our donation fund to pay for repairs.
I recognized the venue, the usual spot for Seth's friends' illegal street races. Long, deserted road in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by flat fields broken up by hills in the distance. The closer we got, the louder the noise. Hooting and engines revving. A field of at least a dozen parked cars honking and blasting music. I even recognized Douchebag waving around a flag.
Yeah, very smart of them to be doing illegal activity when the police would soon be on their trails.
"I guess this is it," I said to Jack, grinning. "Think we'll see a car crash tonight?"
Jack's shoulders tensed. In his hand, he tightly clutched a smooth rock.
I parked the car next to Seth's on an empty spot on the field. "Don't worry," I told Jack, waving my can of pepper spray in front of him. "We're covered."
The hooting got louder. A few guys whistled at something. I glanced out the window and saw a figure. A tall, thin girl standing on top of a car in the middle of the road, illuminated by headlights.
I'd recognize her anywhere. Long, black hair. Toxic waste green eyes.
My former juvie roommate, Penelope Dupont.
❀ ❀ ❀
✿ flowers mentioned in this chapter ✿
✿ daffodil ✿
This chapter is dedicated to BohoChan for the lovely message and comments throughout this book. Knowing there's people connecting with my silly characters inspires me so much to keep writing 👼
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