Long Gone Girl (5 page)

“When did you get back?” he asked and
withdrew his hand.

Ginny noticed the absence of his touch more
than she wanted to. “June. I’ve been working at the county hospital
as a regular staff nurse but…” She sighed and her gaze drifted to
the horizon where a low bank of grey clouds was building up over
the sea. “It’s hard being back home, living with my family again.
The world seems different somehow…I’m different somehow.”

“I know what you mean.” Jett crossed his
arms and leaned forward on the table, his gaze also on the deep
blue Atlantic. “War changes you. It makes you see what’s really
important in life.” He turned back and Ginny couldn’t help but meet
his gaze—the expression in his eyes was serious yet earnest. “Which
leads me to broach the topic of the elephant in the corner, so to
speak...” Jett paused, his shoulders heaving as he drew a steadying
breath. “I’m not the same teenage jerk you used to know, Ginny. But
even back then…I wasn’t as bad as you probably thought I was.”

“I believe you when you say you’re different
now, Jett. I can see that. But…” Ginny closed her eyes, mortified
that her voice was quivering, but she couldn’t seem to control it.
The hurt inside her suddenly felt as fresh as when he’d first
wounded her nearly a decade ago. “What you did…It was cruel and
humiliating…I just don’t know if I can get past that.”

Ridgewood High School,
26
^th
May 1944

A wallflower
. Ginny had known, deep down in
her bones, that she was destined to be one from as long ago as her
Sophomore year. She and boys…well they just didn’t mix. She
couldn’t be bothered with their inanity and they kept their
distance, which was usually just fine with her. But that didn’t
make it any easier to deal with tonight though, not as she sat on a
narrow wooden bench along the gymnasium wall, next to four other
woebegone girls—including her best friend Bridget—who were all just
like her. Stiff with boredom and flat with dejection, Ginny closed
her eyes to shut out the vision of all the other teenage couples
shuffling about the floor to a poorly played version of Glen
Miller’s ‘Moonlight Serenade’; tried to imagine she was on a
moonlit shore—perhaps Point Pleasant, her favorite beach—with only
the waves and the stars for company.

That she was anywhere but here.

Thank heavens the night was nearly over. She
hated dancing at the best of times and had been forced to
participate in a progressive barn dance and waltz earlier in the
evening—which she might have endured without too much pain, but for
the fact that both times she’d also been briefly partnered with
Jefferson Kelly—who was not only her academic nemesis in both math
and chemistry, but also the bane of her social existence.

Too smart, too athletic, too good-looking,
too wealthy a family… Just too everything. Every time she saw Jett,
every time he walked by, she never failed to blush. As for speaking
to him, she could barely string two words together without
stammering. It wasn’t fair that the boy she was most intimidated by
was also the boy she was hopelessly attracted to. To make matters
worse, that said boy was dating the girl she most despised—the
perkily pretty, blonde, and downright mean, Loretta Carlson.

When Jett and Loretta had glided past a few
minutes ago, she could have sworn that Loretta had smirked at her,
then had whispered something—and knowing Loretta it was probably
something catty—in Jett’s ear. If Ginny never saw that girl again
after high school, it would be too soon.

“Ginny? May I have the next dance?”

Bridget gasped and Ginny’s eyes flew open.
Then her heart stopped—literally.
Sweet Jesus, Mary and
Joseph.
Jett was standing right in front of her, asking her to
dance? It wasn’t possible. She must be crazy. Or maybe she’d
fainted. And where on earth was Loretta? Ginny glanced at a gaping
Bridget and then the other girls beside her, convinced she was
mistaken, but when her gaze returned to Jett, he was looking
straight at her.

“Ginny?” he prompted. “I can see I’ve
startled you, but…” Jett ran a hand through his short black hair.
Was he nervous? Surely not. However he swallowed and started again.
“School’s nearly over, forever, and well…I just wondered if you’d
care to dance with me… But if you’d prefer not to…”

Ginny released the breath she’d been holding
and her voice emerged in a great, breathless rush. “No…I mean
yes…I’ll dance with you.”

She must have taken leave of her senses to
be accepting his invitation, but she simply couldn’t resist.
Ignoring the stares and whispers of everyone around them, she
reached out and took Jett’s offered hand just as the strains of
another slow dance number, ‘Be Careful It’s My Heart’ began to
play.

How could she feel both entranced and
terrified at the same time? Heart pounding, body trembling, she
took up the required position in Jett’s arms, staring at her hand
resting upon his broad, suit-clad shoulder because she was too
overwhelmed to look at his handsome face or meet his sky-blue eyes.
He was so, so tall, and smelled so good up close—she had the sudden
and strange urge to bury her nose against his neck or shirtfront.
She hadn’t anticipated feeling this way—light-headed, breathless,
giddy with feelings she couldn’t—no wouldn’t put a name too.
Perhaps knowing that she would be spending an entire song’s worth
of minutes in Jett’s arms, rather than just a brief, thirty second
turn in an impersonal, progressive dance was making her react so
oddly. The palm and fingers of her right hand tingled with strange
electric heat beneath Jett’s hold and she could clearly feel his
other hand, warm and strong against the small of her back as he
began to guide her effortlessly about the floor in a slow, measured
basic foxtrot. He was even good at dancing.

She bet he was even better at kissing.
Oh
heavens. What’s wrong with me?
She gave a silent prayer of
thanks that the lighting in the gymnasium was presently dim, hiding
the fact that her cheeks were aflame with embarrassment.
Jett
has a girlfriend and he is too arrogant for words, most of the
time. Quit being a fool, Ginny. This means—you mean—nothing to
him.

So why was he pulling her in closer to his
chest and resting his head against hers? His warm breath tickled
the curls at her temple and she shivered as a strange, warmth began
to pulse low in her belly. She closed her eyes and drew a deep
breath, at last letting herself be seduced by the beguiling music
and Jett’s firm yet gentle touch. Whatever happened after this—even
if the whole school laughed at her and Loretta tipped a bowlful of
punch over her—she would remember this blissful moment and treasure
it.

“You’re a great dancer, Ginny,” he murmured
against her hair. “Yet you’ve been sitting on the sidelines for
most of the night. Do you have a boyfriend none of us here at
school knows about? A college boy?”

Ginny stiffened a little and almost
stumbled. What an odd question. “No. No one,” she replied, her
brows dipping in a confused frown as she pulled back a little to
meet his gaze. “Why would you even think to ask me such a
thing?”

He smiled down at her and her heart tripped.
“Just sizing up the potential competition.”

Ginny shook her head and almost smiled.
“Huh. You are nutty as a fruitcake, Jett. As if I would ever have
the inclination, let alone the time for—”

The music stopped and all the overhead
lights came back on. Ginny noticed they had stopped by one of the
side doors that lead into the corridor to the change rooms. No one
seemed to be paying them any attention anymore as the
vice-principal, Mr. Webster, had taken center-stage on the dais
where the school jazz band was set up. He was obviously about to
make a speech. The microphone squealed and hissed. “Students of
Ridgewood High’s Senior Year, let me take this opportunity to—”

Jett dropped his hand from her back but
didn’t let her other hand go. “Come with me,” he whispered in her
ear, then pulled her through the straggling students at the side of
the room toward the door.

Ginny followed, pulse skittering and stomach
fluttering madly as they exited the gym and walked a little way
along the dimly lit corridor. “Where are we going?” she asked,
suspicious yet wildly excited. “We shouldn’t—”

Jett stopped abruptly and she practically
bumped into him. “Shouldn’t what?” he asked, his voice low and warm
against her cheek.

Ginny swallowed her mouth dry, her breath
catching in her throat. “Leave…I mean…what about Loretta?”

Jett blew out a sigh and glanced back toward
the doorway to the gym. Mr. Webster’s strident voice and student
laughter drifted down the corridor toward them. “She and I…we broke
up. Just before…” He returned his gaze to hers and took a step
closer, crowding her in so she was pushed up against the cold, hard
steel of the locker doors.

Should she believe him? About him and
Loretta? It didn’t make sense. “Jett—”

Jett touched a finger to her lips and she
sucked in a breath, startled. She suddenly felt strangely hot all
over. Feverish.

“Please hear me out, Ginny,” he murmured,
his eyes dark, their expression intense. Searching. “Lately I’ve
wondered about you, what you really thought about me. Loretta
caught me looking at you tonight one too many times…” He paused and
trailed his finger along her lower lip, making her insides tremble
like Jell-O. “Anyway this isn’t about Loretta. It’s about you…and
me.” His gaze dropped to her mouth.

This couldn’t be real—Jett Kelly, the object
of her most secret daydreams—talking to her like this. Pressing
against her, brushing her flushed cheek with the back of his
fingers. Any moment she would wake up. “What do you mean?” she
whispered.

“For the longest time, I thought you
despised me, Ginny,” he said, his gaze locking with hers again.
“The way you always ignore me. Look away. But maybe you don’t… I’m
thinking that maybe you have a crush on me, but don’t want to admit
it… Am I wrong?”

Oh Sweet Mary, Mother of God. He
knew.
He knew everything. And she’d tried so hard to hide it.
She bit her lip, too terrified to tell the truth.

“Hey,” he murmured, a frown, perhaps of
concern, creasing his brow. He gently squeezed her still captured
hand. “If I’ve got it wrong, we can go back inside—”

Ginny shook her head. Pride and fear be
damned. She wanted Jett to kiss her. More than anything. “No.
You’re not wrong.”

Jett smiled slowly and lifted her chin a
little. “Good. Because I’m dying to kiss you, Virginia O’Hara. May
I?”

“Yes,” she whispered, her gaze dropping to
Jett’s wide, perfectly sculpted mouth.
Oh please, yes.

Jett lowered his head and brushed his lips
against hers. A gentle, sliding caress. Warm and satiny soft.

Oh. So that’s what all the fuss is
about.
Her body melting from the inside out, Ginny grasped
Jett’s lapels, and moved her lips beneath his, trying to mimic his
movements. Jett made a strange noise deep in his throat—perhaps it
was a groan—and she found herself pushed even harder against the
lockers. A cold metal door handle bit into her shoulder, but she
didn’t care. Jett slid one of his hands into her hair and changed
the angle of the kiss. Covering her mouth with his again, he tasted
the seam of her lips with the tip of his tongue. Ginny gasped at
the strangely intimate sensation then moaned softly as Jett took
the opportunity to slide his tongue all the way inside, stroking
and teasing. She’d never imagined a kiss would be like this. So
wicked and hot and wet…and good.
Better than good.
When she
stroked him back, another deep, appreciative growl escaped from
Jett, and Ginny’s heart soared.
He really wants me.

Moist heat suddenly welled between her
thighs and she pushed her hips against Jett’s hard body, grasped
his neck and pulled him closer, not wanting these glorious, heady
moments to end.

A sudden burst of loud clapping and cheering
shattered the air around her and Jett. “Way to go, Jett!
Woohoo!”

Ginny pulled away from Jett’s mouth.
Oh
God, no
. A group of at least half a dozen boys—most of them
Jett’s friends—stood by the door to the gym, laughing and
wolf-whistling.

Jett swore under his breath.

“Looks like I owe you ten bucks after all,
Jett,” jeered Frank Baxter, one of Jett’s football buddies. “Who’d
have thought Miss Goody-Two-Shoes had it in her?”

Ginny’s stomach roiled with sudden nausea
and she wrenched herself away from Jett’s hold. Her instincts had
told her this was too good to be true. Why hadn’t she listened? She
was such an idiot.

“Ginny.” Jett’s face was ashen as he reached
for her hand again. “Ginny, that’s not why—”

“Jefferson Kelly!” Loretta suddenly appeared
in the corridor as well, hands on hips, blue eyes spitting fire.
“You two-timing, lowlife louse. And to make matters worse, I can’t
believe you actually kissed someone like
her
. A
stuck-up—”