Believe in Love Page 3

  “We’re not dating,” I say. Honestly, I can’t really remember what we are, but I’m pretty sure we’re not boyfriend and girlfriend. The look on her face tells me I’m right.

  “No, Jett. We don’t date because that’s our agreement. But we do go up to your room at night.” She leans forward and runs a finger down my chest, leaning in so close I can smell her powdery perfume. “So why are you making me wait so long?”

  “Maybe you should go home.”

  She flinches. “But it’s almost midnight. I was going to give you your birthday present.”

  I lift an eyebrow. “Do you really have a present?”

  She grins and rubs her hand across my thigh. “It’s a present with my mouth,” she whispers.

  I distinctly remember buying her a fifty-dollar lipstick from the mall for her birthday a few months ago. She demanded that I get her a present even though we’re just friends with benefits. My stomach tightens and although I’m a dude with needs, this just doesn’t feel right.

  I sit up straighter. “You should go, Emma. I’ll walk you to your car.”

  ***

  In the morning, I wake up with another weird feeling like something is wrong. My phone glows in the dim light of my bedroom, the screen telling me it’s my birthday because a ton of my friends have already texted me.

  Still, I feel off. Like there’s a huge part of me missing and I can’t remember what part it is. Maybe I’m going crazy. Wouldn’t that be something for the dirt bike magazines to write about? Jett Adams goes totally insane on his birthday.

  Mom’s in the kitchen making breakfast. The smell of bacon and maple syrup fill the air and make my mouth water. Mom is a great cook and I always get a huge breakfast for my birthday. It’s my favorite part of turning a year older.

  Dad’s in the living room messing with the TV, because apparently the cable has gone out again. “Happy Birthday!” he calls out as I walk by.

  Mom pulls me into a hug and pats the top of my head, even though I’m taller than she is now. “Happy birthday, son.” Her eyes crinkle in the corners and she stares at me for a minute. “I’m really proud of you.”

  I’m not sure why. I’m not sponsored, I’m not enrolled in college yet. I’m kind of a loser. But I don’t say any of that because I know she’d only disagree with me and list off all these reasons she thinks I’m great even though I’m not. Moms are like that, though. They love you like crazy even if you suck.

  I eat entirely too much food for breakfast, but it’s worth it because it tastes so good. Just as we’re finishing up, the doorbell rings. Most of our close friends come to the back door instead of the front. “I’ll get it,” I say, figuring it’ll be for me.

  It’s Jacey, my old friend with benefits. I haven’t really seen her in a while. Even though she’s a little chubby and not as hot as Emma, she’s actually nice. That makes her more beautiful, actually.

  “Hey,” I say, not even faking my smile when I see her. “Want to come in?”

  “Sure,” she says, holding out a shiny red gift bag filled with blue tissue paper. “I wanted to come bring your birthday present.”

  “Jacey,” I say, feeling a heat rise to my cheeks. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

  I’ve never gotten Jacey anything for her birthday, not in all the years I’ve known her. Now that I think about it, I don’t even know when her birthday is.

  She shrugs. “It’s not that big of a deal. We’ve been friends for a while, so I care about you, man.”

  We go to the living room and I’m glad my parents are somewhere else, because opening presents in front of an audience is weird. Inside the package is a shiny new copy of the next Motocross Madness Xbox game.

  “No way,” I say, grinning wide. “This is amazing. Thank you.” I pull her into a hug and she’s so warm and smells good. She’s the total opposite of Emma in every way.

  There’s this second where our eyes meet and time feels all squishy and weird. Finally, she breaks the silence.

  “I’ve missed you.”

  I frown. “I miss you, too. You should come over more.”

  She chuckles. “I’m not exactly allowed to now that your little girlfriend is always here.”

  “Emma? She is not my girlfriend,” I say, sticking out my tongue. “I’m actually trying to get rid of her.”

  This makes her laugh, but I think she’s faking it. “Why? She’s soooo pretty,” she says, rolling her eyes.

  “She’s a pain in my ass,” I say. I can tell Jacey is happy to hear it, and I realize now that when I stopped hanging out with her to hook up with Emma, it must have really hurt her feelings.

  It hits me now, that weird feeling I’ve had all day. Is Jacey what I’m missing? Is it her? It’s obvious she likes me. Could I like her back?

  Without thinking, I slide closer to her on the couch. I grab her soft cheeks in my hands and lean over, kissing her softly. She gasps, then kisses me back, harder and more passionately like she’d been waiting her whole life for this moment.

  I close my eyes and hope that this will solve that nagging feeling in the pit of my chest, shut it off once and for all.

  But it only makes it worse.

  Chapter 7

  Keanna

  “That one,” Dawn says, narrowing her eyes and motioning toward a man in the parking lot. He’s in his forties and impeccably dressed in a way that lets you know he has money. He’s also staring at his cell phone as he walks, oblivious to any moving cars nearby.

  We’re in the parking lot of a fancy part of town. It’s like a shopping mall, but every store is a department store or some fancy place I’ve never heard of. One of the lingerie stores let us set up a table in front. It’s officially Christmas Eve, and Mom is making me flirt with potential customers.

  Bracing myself for how much I hate this, I walk over to the man. “Hello sir.”

  He doesn’t even look up from his phone. I clear my throat. “Excuse me, sir?”

  Now he looks up. Unlike in the slummy parts of town, this man doesn’t give me a nasty leer like he’s checking me out in every possible way. He lifts an eyebrow, sees the table of windchimes set up a few feet behind me, and grimaces. “I don’t want any,” he says, briskly brushing past me.

  I look back at Dawn and she gives me this look like she’ll set me on fire if I don’t try again.

  “Surely someone in your life would love an artisan custom made wind chime,” I push on, walking next to him. Normally I’m supposed to flirt, but clearly this guy doesn’t want it. “They’re all one of a kind and very beautiful.”

  “Do you offer gift wrapping?” he says, slowing his gait as he approaches our table.

  “We do!” I say, because although we don’t exactly offer gift wrapping, I’d bought some gift bags and tissue paper at the dollar store a couple of days ago to use for Dawn’s present.

  The man’s brows pull together as he studies the wind chimes. “I’ll take that one,” he says, pointing to a pink one made of porcelain.

  Mom eagerly rings him up with the app on her cell phone and he pays with a solid black credit card. I wrap up his purchase, tufting the tissue paper to make it look nice.

  “Good call on the wrapping,” Mom says after the guy leaves. “I never even thought of that. Next year we’ll get more.”

  “I didn’t exactly think of it,” I admit while I reach for my bottle of water and take a sip. “I bought the wrapping stuff for your Christmas present.”

  Mom scoffs. “Don’t get me anything, Keanna. I’m not getting you anything.”

  It’s embarrassing how much that hurts. I mean, I guess I hadn’t expected anything for Christmas. All I really wanted was a hotel room for the night. Now I think about the beautiful turquoise scarf with matching gloves that I’d bought her for Christmas and wonder if I should even give it to her.

  I’d used my own money that I earned washing cars at the last apartments we had for a few months. Turns out old pervert guys will happily pay twenty buc
ks a car to watch you wash it wearing short shorts and a tank top. I decide to give it to her anyway. It’s a gift, after all. Maybe the kind gesture will obligate her to show some kindness in return. If we can’t get a hotel, maybe we can go out for dinner or something. Later, when the lunch rush has passed and we’ve sold nearly half our stock, the passing people are clearly getting nervous in their last-minute shopping. The stores close in a couple of hours and there’s still a ton of people rushing from store to store, looking for the perfect gift. Most of them are men and it makes me wonder what kind of husband or boyfriend they could possibly be when they wait until last minute to buy gifts.

  Mom leaves me alone while she goes to pee inside one of the stores and instead of actively calling out to everyone who walks by like she wants me to, I sit in her chair and rest for a while.

  “Hey there,” someone says, pulling me from my daydream. In it, I was someone’s girlfriend and he didn’t wait until last minute to buy gifts. He gave me jewelry and he smiled every time I came over. I don’t know why I let my brain slip into silly daydreams like that, but somehow deep down in my chest, it almost felt real. Maybe in another life, I was happy. But not now, because this college frat looking guy is staring at me with a look I know so well.

  “What’s up, beautiful?”

  I sigh. “Just selling these handmade wind chimes for someone who deserves something special. Are you interested in one?”

  “Nah,” he says, shaking his head. “I’m interested in you, though. You live around here?”

  “I don’t live anywhere.”

  He takes my sarcasm in stride. “Well, maybe you’d like to come live with me.” His tongue flicks over his bottom lip. “I have a nice apartment.”

  “You don’t even know me,” I say, gazing out at the parking lot and hoping he’ll get a hint.

  He leans forward, the overbearing scent of his cologne making me want to puke. “But ‘d like to get to know you. I’ll take you to these fancy stores and get you some nice clothes,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows. “What’s your number?”

  “I don’t have a phone,” I say, not meeting his gaze.

  “Well, I’ll buy you one of those, too.”

  “I don’t need someone to take care of me,” I mutter, folding my arms across my chest. The truth is, maybe I do need someone. Someone better than Dawn. Someone who can help me become something in life. But it’s not him, I know that for sure.

  Finally, the guy gives up and leaves, slinking away into another store to hassle some other poor woman. But even after he’s gone, I can’t shake the thought that I really don’t belong anywhere. Not here, in the nice part of town. Not with Dawn in her stupid car. Not anywhere.

  But for some reason, I can’t stop this feeling deep in the pit of my stomach, that maybe somewhere, in another lifetime, I did belong.

  But maybe that’s just wishful thinking.

  Chapter 8

  Jett

  I didn’t appreciate my childhood years nearly as much as I should have. Santa Claus brought a ton of presents and my parents were always so happy to wake up at the butt crack of dawn with me to open them all. Now, we all sleep in late and then I drink a beer with Dad while Park comes over and we watch football in the living room.

  In the kitchen, Mom and her best friend Becca prepare the food for our annual Christmas dinner when my grandparents will be coming over. I feel bad that they’re doing all the work, but when I offered to help, Mom told me not to worry about it. Guess I can’t blame her because my cooking skills aren’t the best. I’m not even that good at chopping vegetables. I did set the table though, just so I could help out a little.

  My parents got me great gifts and I’m happy about them, but it’s really not the same as being a kid. All of the magic is gone. I’m wishing now more than ever that I had someone to share the holidays with. Someone besides my family, even if that makes me sound like an asshole.

  Though Jacey had liked our kiss, I’d apologized profusely afterward. I felt like a total asshole for taking advantage of her like that. I don’t like her in that way. I thought maybe I could, but I definitely don’t. That kiss was empty, and it left me feeling more than ever that I’m missing something.

  It’s been two days since I woke up feeling like my life had been turned upside down and I still don’t know what’s bothering me. I just feel—less, somehow.

  I take another sip of beer, knowing my dad won’t let me have enough to actually get drunk. It doesn’t matter, because it wouldn’t help. Nothing helps.

  I feel like I’m missing someone. Someone important, and perfect. Someone I love more than I love myself.

  But maybe I’m just crazy.

  Chapter 9

  Keanna

  Christmas morning means waking up with my sweater as a pillow again. When you’re poor and homeless, the holidays don’t really mean anything. Sometimes we’ll go to a food kitchen and get a surprisingly good meal on a holiday. But that’s about it.

  We’re parked in the back part of a Walmart parking lot because this store is nice to people who want to camp out overnight. I grab a few dollars from my wallet and walk inside, going to the McDonald’s to get a coffee. Since it’s Christmas, I spend an extra dollar and get Mom one, too. The girl behind the counter looks absolutely miserable, with dark circles under her eyes.

  “I’m sorry you have to work on Christmas,” I say.

  She shrugs. “I’m just happy to have a job. I shouldn’t have stayed up all night wrapping my three-year-old’s presents though…”

  She smiles and I smile back. She’s right. A job is a job, after all. And if she has a place to live, that’s even better for her.

  I wake Dawn up when I get back. She takes the coffee I offer her without a word of thanks, but I guess I wasn’t expecting one.

  “If you gotta pee, you should go now,” Dawn says. “We’re about to head east. There’s a church craft fair this weekend and I’ve got us signed up for a booth.”

  The roads are busy on Christmas day. I watch the cars as we drive; see the families packed into each one. There’s smiling parents and smiling kids. Some of the kids have little TV screens in the backseat that play cartoons and movies so their drive isn’t so bad.

  My heart aches for a family. A real one. I’m basically an adult now, but I would love to go back in time and be the kind of kid who has a TV screen in the car. I’d love to be jam packed into an SUV while driving to grandma’s house, or wherever it is people go to on holidays.

  Feeling sadder than usual, I lean my head against the window and watch the road fly by.

  I’ve always known my life was a little different from most people’s. I’ve always just put up with it, hoping for something better to come along. But right now, I’ve never felt more hopeless in my life.

  I drift off to sleep, only to be awakened by Dawn hitting a pothole and hour later. My head bashes against the glass, startling me awake.

  “Ow!” I say, rubbing my head.

  Dawn snorts. “Sorry.”

  I look outside. The sun is starting to go down over a sleepy little town with cute houses dotting the road every so often. We pass a street sign that makes my heart skip a beat.

  Welcome to Lawson, TX

  I sit up straighter. Why does that name sound so familiar?

  “Have we been here before?” I ask.

  Dawn shakes her head. “Nope. We should almost be there, though. The church is up ahead and I’m betting we can stay in their parking lot no questions because they’re a church.”

  I rub my forehead as an insane feeling falls over me. I feel like I know this place. Like I belong here, or maybe I’ve been here before.

  As we drive, I’m suffocating in the feeling of déjà vu and I don’t even know why. We approach a big sign on the road that says The Track. Now my heart is pounding. Why does that feel so familiar?

  “Stop!” I put my hand on the glovebox. There’s a three story house right next to The Track. I’ve never seen it befor
e, but something is pulling to me, like an invisible hand begging me to get out. “Mom, stop the car.”

  She slams on the brakes and slides off onto the shoulder of the road. “Jesus, Keanna!” Dawn says. “You have to puke or something?”

  “I need to get out,” I say, unable to take my eyes off the wrap around porch of this weirdly familiar house. There are no cars in the driveway and it doesn’t look like anyone is home. “I have to go.”

  My mother stares at me like I’ve grown an extra head. “Go where?”

  “To that house,” I say. “I think I’ve been there before.”

  She leans forward, looking past me and at the house. “You’ve never been there.”

  “I think I have,” I say, my hand on the door handle. “I’m going.”

  Dawn makes some kind of sigh that’s mixed with a laugh. “Whatever, kid. I’ll go get some fast food burgers and come back to get you. Hopefully you’ll have regained your mind by then.”

  I don’t even tell her goodbye. I don’t grab my bag from the back seat. I just go, slamming the door behind me and then sprinting into a run as I make my way toward the house.

  Mom drives away and I’m all alone on the porch. I knock on the door, but no one answers. And maybe I am crazy, but I twist the doorknob. It’s locked.

  But I’m still hopeful. Someone lives here, I just know it. I can’t describe it and it doesn’t make any sense but I know someone will be here for me soon.

  I turn and sit on the porch steps, leaning my shoulder against the railing. Someone will come for me. I don’t know how or why, but it’s a feeling in my gut that I can’t ignore.

  At some point, I fall asleep. When I wake up, I’m not on the porch anymore. I’m in a warm bed with soft sheets. My eyes are closed, and the soft light from a nearby window trickles into the room. It smells like home in here.