All The Glory (21 page)

I felt terrible. He was acting like I’d rejected him for being a murderer and that wasn’t really what had happened, even if it probably should have.

“Jason, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

“Hey, it’s cool.” He tried to laugh but it sounded strained. “Trust me, I wouldn’t want to get involved with me either if I were in your shoes. It’s fine.”

He started to leave the room, so I took a few big steps on shaky legs and grabbed him by the arm. “That’s not it.”

He stopped and turned towards me. “Okay, so what is it?” He was understandably frustrated; I wasn’t sending the clearest signals. “You just want to be friends? I promise, it’s fine. Pretend I didn’t … do anything.”

“No, it’s not that. Okay, it
is
that, but not in the way you’re thinking.” My head was spinning with all the disjointed thoughts and disconnected feelings. Nothing made sense.

He lifted an eyebrow and waited. It was impossible to tell whether he was mad, sad, or a combination of the two. One thing he wasn’t, was happy.

I crossed my arms over my chest to hide the fact that my shirt was plastered to me in a very unflattering way and my hands were still shaking. “I … I want to explain myself to you.”

“Go for it.” He wiped the sweat from his neck and glanced down at me as he did it.

I chewed my lip as I tried to figure out where to start, what to reveal, and what to keep hidden. I wasn’t the best at sharing my feelings, especially with a guy like Jason. The only male person in the world who’d heard what went on in my head was Bobby and he was different. Way different. He didn’t judge and I’d never wanted to kiss him on the mouth.

“You and I are like that Hootie song.”

Jason frowned, obviously confused. “What?”

“That Hootie song. Two different worlds.”

“How so? We live on the same street and go to the same school. We’ve practically grown up together.”

Thank goodness he knew what I meant with that feeble explanation, because my brain obviously wasn’t working on all cylinders today. That kiss seriously messed me up.

“No. We’ve grown up
around
each other. Bobby and I have grown up together. It’s not the same thing.”

“I don’t see why that makes any difference.” Jason dropped down onto a bench and looked up at me, waiting for me to start making sense.

“You know we move in different circles at school.”

“So? Doesn’t everyone, pretty much? So we have different friends, what difference does that make?”

I shook my head, frustrated with his ignorance. “I hate to be the one to break the news to you, Jason, but our friends, our circles,
do not mix
, okay? Someone from your circle does not mix with someone from my circle. It just doesn’t happen.
Pretty In Pink
proves it.”

He frowned, getting pissed maybe. “Circles? Pretty In Pink? What are you talking about? We’re just people going to school.”

“No, we’re
not!
We’re kids trying to figure out where we belong in a world that judges us by our looks, our bodies, our clothes, the cars we drive, the type of cell phones we have and purses we carry … circles, Jason.
Circles
.” I glared at him.

He lifted a brow, definitely mocking me. “Are you saying I’m one of the cool kids and you’re not?”

I grabbed the nearest thing that wasn’t a weight and threw it at him. “Jerk.” The sweat-warped leather glove with the fingers cut off hit him right in the face.

I tried to storm by him and leave the room, but he grabbed me by the hand and held me back.

“Wait.”

“Let go.”

“No, don’t go. Stay with me. Just for a minute. I want to apologize.”

“Don’t bother. It doesn’t matter anyway.” I refused to look at him. Not because he did anything wrong, but because I felt stupid. I’d gotten caught up in a teen movie drama that was playing in my head and forgotten that we were real people living a completely different life than Sam and Ducky had in that iconic but hopelessly unrealistic movie.

“I was just messing around, okay? I know what you’re saying. Maybe last week I wouldn’t have known, but I know now.”

I had to look up at that. “What do you mean?”

He sighed out heavily and tugged on my hand. “Come sit by me.”

Reluctantly, I took the spot on the bench that was far enough away that we weren’t touching but not so far that it would look like I was avoiding him.

“Like you said … there’s a lot of pressure on us to be a certain person. At school, I mean.”

“Yes.” I nodded.

“And sometimes you feel that pressure, I guess, but for me, I mostly just moved through it without thinking too much about it.”

“No wonder.”

He looked at me sideways. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Never mind.” My mouth had gotten away from me again.

He twisted on the bench to face me. “No, really, I want to know.”

“I really need to get going.”

“Aren’t you staying for lunch?”

I shrugged, feeling stupid. “I don’t know.” I wanted to stay but knew I should go. I’d never been so confused in my own head before. It was unnerving, like I wasn’t in control of myself anymore.

“Stay for lunch … but first tell me what you meant when you said ‘no wonder’.”

I looked up at him. “Promise you won’t get offended?”

“No.”

“Then I’m not telling you.”

“Okay, fine, I won’t get offended.”

Looking into his eyes and staring at his face actually made it easier to tell him the truth. Seeing his impossibly handsome face reminded me of being invisible to him in the hallways.

“You’re too good-looking and athletically talented to even notice the pressure. You could come to school with an orange clown wig on your head and everyone would think you were being cute. If I did that, everyone would talk about what a freaking idiot I am. People like you and Britt and Tiff and all your friends get a free pass. People like me get beat down. That’s the way it works, but you wouldn’t know that because you get to wear the orange wig whenever you want.”

He shook his head at me slowly and it made me feel about two inches high.

“You really are pretty clueless, aren’t you?” he said.

That made me back my head up a little. “Excuse me?”

He kind of laughed, but it was more the bitter variety. “No one has it that easy. It’s just an illusion.”

“I doubt it.” I actually did kind of doubt it hearing him say that, but because I was interested in hearing his take on it, I challenged him. “Your life is nothing like mine.”

“Haven’t you ever heard that expression that things are tough all over?”

“No.”

“Well, it’s true. Being me … it’s not easy.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Yeah. Soooo tough. Being hot and smart and covered in muscles and the star of the football team every girl wants to sleep with. Must be reeealll tough.”

His eyes went dark. “Have you ever thought about what it might be like to not know if anyone actually liked you? Like, ever in your life?”

That stopped my laughter short. “What?”

“You heard me. Let me ask you this … does Bobby really like being your friend? Does he like you as a person, I mean?”

“Of course he does.” I kind of laughed, kind of semi-snorted, thinking what a ridiculous question that was. “Why else would he text me a thousand times a day and be at my house every day for the last ten years?”

“Exactly.”

Jason didn’t say anything else so we just sat there looking at each other.

He lifted an eyebrow.

“What? Am I supposed to say something right now?” I asked.

“You don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?!” I threw my arms up.

“You know! You know that Bobby
really
likes you.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “I’m prrreeettty sure we already established that.”

“See, I don’t have that.” He leaned in and pointed at my chest. “I don’t have that. Never have.”

I looked down at where he was pointing. “Sweaty cleavage?”

He gently tapped my chin on the side, pushing my face away. “Shut up, you know what I’m talking about.”

I laughed. “No, I seriously don’t. ‘Splain yourself.”

He paused and just stared at me. Slowly a smile spread over his face.

“Now what?” I asked. “You’re making me nervous. You’re not going to kiss me again, are you?”

He burst out laughing, leaning way back on the bench almost to the point I thought he was going to fall.

“You’re going insane staying in this house all day,” I said, playing off my latest gaff. “We have to get you out of here.”

He straightened up at that and lost his smile. But he didn’t look mad. “You’re fucking awesome,” he said.

I couldn’t help but grin at that. “I am? How come?”

“Because. You like me.”

I rolled my eyes. “Full of yourself maybe? Just a tad?”

“No, I mean you
really
like me.” He swung his arm up and rested it across my shoulders. It was heavy, but I liked the feel of it anyway. Bobby’s arm always felt like a skinny tree branch as opposed to this giant log.

“Yeah, I like you,” I said, trying to ease myself past the awkward warmth flowing through my chest area. “I even brought you a sandwich. Want it?” I tried to stand, but his heavy arm held me on the bench.

“In a minute. I want to tell you what I was trying to tell you a second ago.”

“Better hurry. My stomach’s about to start eating itself.”

He pulled his arm off me and started fiddling with his fingers in his lap. “When you’re what people consider good-looking, all kinds of people want to be your friend.”

“A very sad story,” I said with my subdued, very understanding voice.

He talked a little louder, I think to drown my smart-ass out. “And when that happens all the time, you wonder if any of those people actually
like
you, like you, or just like being around you for what it will get them.”

I nodded, trying to understand what that would be like. Since I’d never experienced anything like that before, it was tough to imagine it with respect to myself, but I could definitely see it with Jason.

“I know,” I agreed. “That’s what I was kind of trying to tell you earlier.” I looked up at him. “I think your perspective on life is seriously skewed. How could it not be? I mean, probably very few people in your life have ever really been genuine with you.”

“You might be right.” He sighed. “I wish I had done things differently.”

I stared at his strong jaw and lips, the ones that had kissed me just a little while ago that I sadly wished would come after me again. His problem was his face being so arrestingly handsome. There was way too much hotness going on there for any person to resist, really. People couldn’t be blamed for that weakness.

“You should have uglied yourself up,” I said. “That would have helped, probably.”

He laughed, like he wasn’t sure he’d heard me right. “Uglied myself up?”

“Yeah. Grown one of those nasty pube-like beards, like Jon Bertrand has.”

“He’s ugly even without the beard, trust me.” Jason laughed.

“Yeah, but that’s beside the point. Grow one of those face-muffs and no girl’s going to want to kiss you.” I literally shuddered at the thought.

“I had a beard for a little while. Didn’t stop Tiffany from making her move.”

I gasped and grabbed his arm. “No! Say it isn’t so.”

He smiled but he didn’t look very happy. “It’s so.”

“She totally went after her BFF’s man?” I shook my head, my hand slipping off his arm as I contemplated the third world war that would have broken out had Brittney ever found out. Talk about serious entertainment. “You people have no moral code at all.”

“Hey!” he nudged me. “Don’t include me in that mess.”

“You were the centerpiece of that big mess,” I said without thinking.

He instantly stopped laughing. Silence pressed down on us, and I hated myself for not controlling my mouth once again.

“I’m sorry. That sucked.”

“No, you’re right.” He stood up and held out his hand. “Come on. Let’s go eat a sandwich and forget about all this stuff.” He sounded resigned to his fate of being an asshole, something I couldn’t seem to quit reminding him that he was. What was wrong with me?

“You see the irony here, right?” he asked me as he moved down the hallway.

“No, not really. Enlighten me.”

“If this shit hadn’t happened, you and I would have never had this conversation and none of this stuff would have ever entered my mind.”

“So, what’s the irony?” I asked.

“The irony is, I had to murder a guy to become a better person.”

I tripped on nothing at all and had to hold onto the wall or risk falling flat on my face. My feet didn’t want to work right anymore.

“That is just … so … awful,” I said, feeling the blood leaving my face. Reality had a way of taking my circulation away from me at the oddest times.

“You have no idea,” he responded, his broad back slowly going lower as he descended the stairs at the end of the hall.

We went the rest of the way down to the kitchen silently, lost in our own worlds.

Chapter Thirty-Four

I PULLED THE SLIGHTLY SOGGY peanut butter and raspberry jam sandwiches from my bag and gave one to Jason. He ate it happily, like it was the best meal he’d had in weeks. I couldn’t even touch mine. The butterfly battalions fighting for ground in my stomach made it impossible.

“You going to eat that?” he asked, gesturing at my plate.

“No. It’s gross.” For the first time in my life, I had no appetite.

“Want me to make you something?” he asked, leaning over and taking my sandwich. He bit into it as he waited for my answer.

“No, that’s all right.” I looked around the kitchen, still feeling terrible about his ironic admission and my lifetime of judging him and everyone I’d thought was like him. We’re all human beings, just trying to make our way through the mess that’s high school and society’s unrealistic expectations. Why had I never noticed that before? Why had I put guys like him up on a pedestal and just assumed their lives were better for it?

“I could boil you an egg. You need some protein.”

My eyes went back to him. “I do?”