Withered (Westwood High Book 1), page 19
I roll my eyes. “Why would I do that with you right here in front of me?”
“Just saying,” he says before returning to his writing.
My thoughts go back to when Tyler told me that Jake had been through a lot. I never got to know, and I get that Tyler isn’t the one who can’t tell me, but I do want to know.
“Hey, Jake!”
He tears his gaze away from the book and stares at me. I’m mesmerized by those captivating eyes as he tilts his head to one side. “Yeah?”
I realize that I have been staring at him. “Never mind.”
I have no idea how he will react, and I don’t want to start a fight, especially now that we’re finally on good terms.
He looks confused as he sits up, asking, “What is it?”
“It’s nothing. Really,” I say, getting back to my homework.
I'm so focused on my blank sheet that I don’t notice Jake cross over and sit right in front of me. He snatches my copy from my grasp and sets it aside. “Now tell me, what is it that you want to know?”
“Why would you think that?” I ask.
“I took a guess. Every time you want to know anything, you start a conversation, then try to change the topic,” he states.
I’m both surprised and amazed. Shocked that he guessed correctly and amazed that he pays attention to such little details.
“It’s just something Tyler told me,” I state.
He stiffens immediately, and his eyes turn dark and sharp. This is the Jake I’m afraid of.
“What did he tell you?” He asks curiously, his voice stern.
“He didn’t tell me anything. It’s just what he said.” I chose my words carefully.
“What did he say?” Jake demands. The tone in his voice tells me I shouldn’t have brought this up.
“Remember that day when I saw you and Olivia together?” I start with a low voice. I hate that day, and I still do. I hate that girl.
“How can I forget that? I made you cry. I tried to come after you, but Tyler stopped me. He said I’d done enough. I remember the look on your face. Hurt and pain were evident in your eyes. And I hated myself because I caused it.” His voice softens as his head droops.
I say, “When Tyler caught up with me, he said I should take it easy on you because you’ve already been through a lot.”
“Just that?” His eyes met mine.
I nod and ask carefully, “Was he talking about your dad?”
Jake’s dad is a sensitive topic, so I won’t be surprised if he blows up.
“Maybe. There are other things too.” I just nod my head as he responds.
My gaze travels across his naked chest and lands on his tree tattoo. My eyes rise to meet his, he smirks when he realizes I’ve been staring, and my cheeks burn with embarrassment.
He says, “I think it’s time to tell you about this.”
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” I state.
“I’ll do it because I want to. But first, let us wrap this up.” He points to the mess on his bed—books and papers lying everywhere.
I nod, and we get busy finishing our work. I notice Jake watching me several times from the corner of my eye, and I repeat his words from earlier: “You do know that a picture lasts a long time, don’t you?”
He chuckles but says nothing.
Once we’re done, we pack everything up. Jake’s eyes are closed, his head is tilted back toward the headboard, and he has a small smile on his face as if he is recalling something.
I stare at him, fascinated by his captivating personality. He looks calmer than his usual confident and upbeat self.
I clear my throat. “So?”
He opens his eyes and meets mine as I sit cross-legged in front of him.
“I was about eight years old when my parents began fighting,” he starts, and I hold on to every word.
Something tells me that Jake isn’t the type to open up to people. If he is doing this, I respect it.
“I’m not sure what happened, but all I could hear was them yelling at each other. I was in my room when this all started. I went downstairs, hid behind the wall, and watched everything. Mum caught me, and they both stopped immediately. Mum asked me to go back to my room and shut the door. I did that, but it was hard to drown out their voices while they were just downstairs. Days passed, and their bickering and arguing continued daily. Eventually, I gave up and went outside.”
I watch him, my silence urging him to continue.
“Back in London, a girl lived next door: Jennifer. Tyler knew her too. We used to attend the same school and then spend the rest of the day just playing with her. We were close from the start. She was easy to talk to. She was friendly with everyone yet shy about talking to people. On the other hand, I was the opposite. So, I helped her open up, and she opened up to everyone. But all that mattered to me was her. She had this aura around her that I couldn’t help but be drawn to.”
He pauses and faces me. His expressions reveal nothing, and I’m not sure who he is.
“So when my parents used to fight, I would just go to her. We’d play or talk or whatever; having her by my side was enough to make me forget about everything and everyone. She had this tree in her backyard, where we used to spend most of our time.”
He points to his tattoo and says, “This tree is that tree.”
My eyes dart to the same tattoo, and I nod in understanding.
“After a year, my father left us, and all Mum did was cry. Then one day, we found out he got married, and the very next day, that fucking bastard sent the divorce papers. Mum was devastated, and I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t help but be with her. Jen was right by my side. Whenever I was sad for Mum or mad at my asshole of a father, she’d take me to the tree, and everything was long forgotten.”
I keep a neutral face when all I feel is a little bitterness about this Jennifer girl. Whatever, I am sure Jennifer is just a good friend. She sure sounds like an amazing person. I’d like to meet her someday.
Jake closes his eyes and exhales deeply. “But then she left.”
“Left where?” I press.
He continues, his voice laced with sadness. “I’m not sure. She didn’t tell me she was leaving. I was broken that day. My only armor and support system left me. I waited and waited, but nothing. No news. I cried for days. Mum was with me, but that wasn’t enough. I wanted her. I just wanted her to take my hand in hers and tell me everything would be fine.”
I ask him the question that has been bugging me for a few minutes. “You liked her, didn’t you?”
He chuckles but answers, “Yes. I know it sounds crazy, and I had no idea what that emotion meant, but I did. She had me wrapped around her little finger.”
I hear my heart-shattering. I manage to smile, but all I want to do is run through the door, go home, and cry. I may not have said it out loud, but deep down, I like this boy sitting in front of me. Or maybe I’m just overthinking. Where is Kristy when I need her?
He goes on, “Days after that, Mum got news about her.”
He shakes his head and looks down. “What was it, Jake?”
He answers in a hushed tone, “She had cancer.”
A gasp leaves my lips. I stare at him, wide-eyed.
“Her parents moved her so she could get better treatment, but they were late. I screamed and cried until I was broken. I ran away, and the next day my mum found me in her backyard, near the tree that had no leaves at that time.”
My eyes begin to water. He blinks rapidly, most likely in an attempt to blink away the tears. “And that’s it. Jen is the bird that is departing the tree. This was my very first tattoo. The bird reminds me of her, of what I had before it was taken away from me. After that, I changed. I grew cold and distant. I suppose I still am.”
The final sentence makes me chuckle, but my cheeks are already moist with tears.
A comfortable silence followed in the room.
“Do you still miss her?” I ask, wiping my cheeks with the back of my hands.
In the next three words, he breaks my heart further. “Every single day.”
I nod, unable to speak. The silence in the room is broken when his phone rings. He stares at the phone, spares me a glance, and cuts the call.
Confused, I ask him, “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” he replies, then adds, “Too much for a day?”
Who knew this boy had this side to him? I smile at him and say, “Nope. I’m glad you told me this. Jennifer sounds amazing; I’m sure she was.”
He hums.
“I’ll get going now,” I say, nodding.
“I’ll walk you home,” he states.
“You do realize I live right next door, don’t you?” I declare.
“Yup. You’re my girl next door.” He smiles. My girl, the way he says that, has such a nice ring to it.
I beam with the same smile. The only difference is that he has dimples and I don’t. Unfair.
“I can go by myself. Meet you at my window in a few minutes?” I ask.
“Okay.” He gets up from the bed, and I do too.
He abruptly says, “Thank you.”
“For what?” I ask.
“For listening and not judging me.” His forest-green eyes twinkle with an unreadable emotion.
“I won’t lie to you. I did judge you, and I still feel you are that obnoxious, stubborn jerk at times. But now that I’ve heard your side of the story, you’re good, Jake. Don’t listen to anyone who tells you otherwise. I saw the good part when I saw you talking to Aria at my door,” I express.
He takes a step forward and moves closer to me. His familiar woodsy scent surrounds me, weakening my brain. He tucks my hair behind the ear, a thing I notice he does a lot and a thing I’ve grown fond of.
“You are something else, Evans,” he states.
He hooks one arm around my waist, drawing me impossibly closer to him until our noses are touching. A million ideas race through my mind, but they all come to a halt when I feel Jake’s lips on mine.
It starts with a simple peck, but soon he presses his lips more. I get on my toes and place my hands behind his neck. The kiss is slow, not passionate like any before, but unique. As if he is taking his time.
I pull back unwillingly and breathe heavily. I could feel his breath on my lips, and I noticed our foreheads are touching. One kiss from Jake is all it takes to mend all the broken pieces of my heart.
In contrast to that, my heart feels heavier with each passing second. I’ve never felt this way about a boy before, and I’m terrified. Scared of what is happening and what will happen.
I leave his house and return to mine. As said, I meet him at the window, and he is already seated at the edge of his window, smirking. We talk for a few minutes, then call it a night.
Lying on my bed, I realize many things. Jake is opening up to me, and I have no idea what to think of it. Sure, he’s less of a jerk now that I know him. However, I feel there is a but following that line.
We haven’t fought recently, and he’s been on his best behavior. Maybe, just maybe, we could let it happen. That is, if he wants to.
Every time I bring up this topic, he brushes it off, saying we are friends. Only if life were simpler and I was less of an overthinker.
I turn off the lights, crawl under the covers, and fall asleep. My dreams, which had Mr. Darcy, are now replaced by a certain forest-green-eyed boy with beautiful dimples.
School is the same as usual. Classes are the same, but I don’t feel as interested as always. My eyes keep moving toward the classroom door, hoping to see Jake. When I awoke this morning, I received a text from Jake telling me that he would be late for school. I tried calling him to ask if he was okay, but his phone went straight to voicemail.
Last night’s event had to have been too much for him, so I gave him some space. I don’t want to pry. If he wants to talk, I think he knows where to find me. I saw him in his vulnerable state yesterday. I want to say so many things to him, hug him, and comfort him, but I can’t. Classes pass without his presence, and soon it is lunchtime.
I stop by my locker to put my books in. I'm about to shut my locker door when I feel strong arms around my waist and a soft lip on my neck. The woodsy scent is enough to tell me who it is.
I turn around and see Jake looking down at me; my mood suddenly brightens. A few people pause to stare at us, but as I see him, they fade away. Everyone in the hallway seems to have vanished except for the two of us.
“Hi,” he greets.
“Hey. When did you get here?” I ask. His arms are still wrapped around my waist, holding me in place with my back to the locker.
“I just got here.” He searches my face, his gaze falling on my lips.
I bit my lower lip. “You okay?”
He groans, his gaze stuck on my lips, as he answers, “You need to stop doing that.”
“Stop what?” I ask, looking into his eyes.
He leans in closer, his breath fanning my cheeks and stopping near my ear. “You’re biting your lower lip. It makes me hard.”
My cheeks flush at his words. I am still getting used to it. He slowly backs away and comes to a halt inches from me. His other hand moves up from my waist to the back of my spine, resting at the nape of my neck and sending shivers up my spine. He closes the gap between us and kisses me before knocking my body into the lockers behind me. My hands clutch his jacket, attempting to draw him closer, while he tugs at my neck. There is no more room between us. We pull apart, both breathing heavily, and he has his lips on my neck, placing gentle kisses there.
“Let’s go eat something.” His voice is wheezy.
I shut my locker, and we make our way to the cafeteria, turning heads as we walk. People quiet down and look at us. I hate being the center of attention, but Jake doesn't seem to mind. He walks with a confident expression on his face and stride, but I have to keep my head down since all these eyes make me nervous.
Jake must have observed this because he wraps his arm around my shoulder, drawing me closer to him.
“Why is everyone staring?” I ask even though I already know the answer. They’re all staring at him, and I happen to be walking beside him.
Girls are shooting daggers at me, perhaps killing me many times in their heads as to how I landed myself next to the hottest lad in school. In his typical attire, he appears to be a model. Damn him.
“They need to get a life.” He reacts, which makes me chuckle. He’s not entirely wrong; our school, Westwood High, is notorious for gossip. People here are more interested in what is going on in the lives of others than in their own.
If the attention in the hallway wasn’t enough, we’re getting more in the cafeteria. People stop what they were doing as soon as we walk in, and those in our path split to allow us to walk.
We make it to our table, where Kristy and Tyler are already seated, and Tyler has his mouth open while Kristy smirks my way. Shouldn’t it be the other way around?
“Tyler, are you okay?” I ask. He shifts his gaze from me to Jake.
He clears his throat and says, “Yeah.”
Tyler stares at Jake as we sit down. They’re having this eye-to-eye conversation, with Tyler smirking and Jake rolling his eyes. Kristy cuts in, “Rose, could you give me a ride back home? Tyler has soccer practice.”
“Yeah, sure. We haven’t hung out in a while; it’ll be fun.”
Ever since Tyler and Kristy had this thing going on with them, we barely went out together. Sure, we talk on the phone, but that’s it.
“Jake and I both have practice today,” Tyler says.
“What?” I tilt my head towards Jake.
Tyler smirks while Kristy looks at them with a confused gaze.
“You made the soccer team?” I ask Jake, who is glaring at Tyler.
“Yeah, this fucker told me a few days ago,” Jake answers, gazing at me, and I roll my eyes at his words.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask him, a little hurt that he kept such good news from me.
“There was so much on my mind; it must have slipped,” Jake says, and I get him.
His mom is urging him to meet his dad. And, with all his past coming out in bits and pieces, this is only a small piece of good news.
Tyler chimes in again, clearly amused by whatever is going on. “I want my best player on the pitch as a captain. It’s not every day I get to boss you around.”
Jake throws his fries at Tyler, who dodges them quickly. I swat at his arm for doing that.
“Wait…What?” Kristy turns to Tyler the same way I turn to Jake.
“You are the captain of the soccer team?” Kristy asks Tyler.
Okay, so she didn’t know. These guys are the worst. They keep all the good news to themselves.
“Yes, babe,” he says it with a smile on his face. Kristy squeals in delight before wrapping her arms around him and hugging him.
We split up after lunch because we have different classes. Jake follows me every step of the way until we arrive at my locker. As I take out my books, Jake leans against my locker.
“Will I see you after school?” Jake asks, turning his head towards me.
A surge of confidence washes through me, and I smirk at him, saying, “Can’t you stay away, Henderson?”
He chuckles with that damn smirk. “It’s difficult when all I can think about is you in that lacy bra of…” I shut him off right away by putting my palm over his mouth.
My eyes widen, and my mouth hangs open. I frantically look around to see if anyone heard him or not. A few people stare at us, but they are rather far away. That was dangerously close.
He swipes his tongue across my hand, and I pull away. “Ugh, Jake. What are you, five? Do I need to get you some ice cream?”
He laughs lightly, showing that cute dimple. “Nope. Why would I want fucking ice cream when I have you? A. Full. Course. Meal.”
With each word, he moves closer and closer until he's directly in front of me. He gives me a once-over as he takes in my appearance shamelessly. I’m wearing a simple black top with high-waisted black and white check-pattern trousers that elongate my legs. His gaze lingers on my legs for a while longer before meeting mine. His comment confuses me at first, but then it dawns on me.
