his hair to a shade that was a richer blond than Tess’s could ever be.
“You’re not like Tess at all, so why compare yourself? She’s beautiful on the outside, but you—you have the …” He cleared his throat. “You have the most beautiful soul. I know that sounds stupid, but it’s true. Any guy would be lucky to be with you.”
How could I not kiss him after he said that?
So I did, and he kissed me back. He dropped the rest of his sandwich, and when we separated he stared at me like he’d never seen me before.
“Abby,” he said, and the ferry whistle blew.
“I see what Tess doesn’t,” I said. “I see you, Jack. And I think you’re amazing. Meet me here tomorrow night. Just—just you and me.”
“Amazing?” he said. “Me?” He sounded so surprised I had to kiss him again.
And the next night, he took the ferry over earlier, and I slipped out of the house after dinner and met him down on the beach.
My parents didn’t ask where I was going or what I was doing. They never worried about me. Tess was the one who got phone calls all the time, who had guys get into fights over her—including a memorable one during my parents’ company picnic—and who used to come home way past her curfew, mutely shaking her head when my parents demanded to know where she’d been.
The parties had stopped when she’d quit hanging out with Claire, replaced with her telling us over and over that she had to get into a good school and always followed by long, frequent bouts of sitting in silence in her room. But the guys still called, and people still wanted to see her. My father would sometimes joke that it felt like we were all part of “Tess’s Messenger Service.”
So, no, Mom and Dad didn’t worry about me. I was free, free in a way I took for granted. I was free to do what I wanted, to follow my heart.
Free to be an idiot.
And I was one.
The worst part is that I can’t blame Jack. He never lied to me. When he showed up that first night to see me and not Tess, he told me he liked me, but that he still had feelings for Tess.
“I just—I think that if she got to know me, she’d like me,” he said. “I know that probably sounds dumb, and obviously I like you too since I’m here, but I’m—argh! This all sounded much less stupid in my head.”
“But she doesn’t want—” I said, and then bit my lip when I saw his shoulders slump. “She doesn’t get you. I do. And we’re so alike and I—I can talk to you. I like that.”
“I can talk to you too,” he said, and smiled at me. “You don’t want me to learn how to Botox old ladies like my family does.”
“Or get face peels.” I’d heard Tess mention them to him the last time they’d talked. She was good at diverting guys that way. They’d chase, and she’d send them off to fix themselves up—and then they’d usually end up falling for another girl, one who saw the improved them emerging before Tess did.
“I brought food tonight,” Jack told me. “PB&J, with no crusts. Your favorite, right?”
I’d said it was, because he’d said it was his favorite, and so I nodded, pathetically happy that he’d noticed me, that he’d listened to me. When I was done with my sandwich, I kissed a smear of peanut butter off his mouth.
He kissed me back, and I was even happier.
I think it might have ended there—a few nighttime visits, some shared food and commiseration over having feelings for someone who liked you but didn’t like you—except it was so nice to kiss him. To have him kiss me back. He was everything I’d wanted in a guy—cute, smart, sweet, and I thought …
I thought sex would make him love me.
No, that’s a lie. I didn’t think that. I hoped it, but the bare, honest fact behind what happened is that I wanted to have sex with him. I wanted those pale arms of his wrapped around me; I wanted to see all of him. I wanted him to see all of me.
He said he didn’t think it was a good idea. He said I was only fifteen, and
“You’re not like Tess at all, so why compare yourself? She’s beautiful on the outside, but you—you have the …” He cleared his throat. “You have the most beautiful soul. I know that sounds stupid, but it’s true. Any guy would be lucky to be with you.”
How could I not kiss him after he said that?
So I did, and he kissed me back. He dropped the rest of his sandwich, and when we separated he stared at me like he’d never seen me before.
“Abby,” he said, and the ferry whistle blew.
“I see what Tess doesn’t,” I said. “I see you, Jack. And I think you’re amazing. Meet me here tomorrow night. Just—just you and me.”
“Amazing?” he said. “Me?” He sounded so surprised I had to kiss him again.
And the next night, he took the ferry over earlier, and I slipped out of the house after dinner and met him down on the beach.
My parents didn’t ask where I was going or what I was doing. They never worried about me. Tess was the one who got phone calls all the time, who had guys get into fights over her—including a memorable one during my parents’ company picnic—and who used to come home way past her curfew, mutely shaking her head when my parents demanded to know where she’d been.
The parties had stopped when she’d quit hanging out with Claire, replaced with her telling us over and over that she had to get into a good school and always followed by long, frequent bouts of sitting in silence in her room. But the guys still called, and people still wanted to see her. My father would sometimes joke that it felt like we were all part of “Tess’s Messenger Service.”
So, no, Mom and Dad didn’t worry about me. I was free, free in a way I took for granted. I was free to do what I wanted, to follow my heart.
Free to be an idiot.
And I was one.
The worst part is that I can’t blame Jack. He never lied to me. When he showed up that first night to see me and not Tess, he told me he liked me, but that he still had feelings for Tess.
“I just—I think that if she got to know me, she’d like me,” he said. “I know that probably sounds dumb, and obviously I like you too since I’m here, but I’m—argh! This all sounded much less stupid in my head.”
“But she doesn’t want—” I said, and then bit my lip when I saw his shoulders slump. “She doesn’t get you. I do. And we’re so alike and I—I can talk to you. I like that.”
“I can talk to you too,” he said, and smiled at me. “You don’t want me to learn how to Botox old ladies like my family does.”
“Or get face peels.” I’d heard Tess mention them to him the last time they’d talked. She was good at diverting guys that way. They’d chase, and she’d send them off to fix themselves up—and then they’d usually end up falling for another girl, one who saw the improved them emerging before Tess did.
“I brought food tonight,” Jack told me. “PB&J, with no crusts. Your favorite, right?”
I’d said it was, because he’d said it was his favorite, and so I nodded, pathetically happy that he’d noticed me, that he’d listened to me. When I was done with my sandwich, I kissed a smear of peanut butter off his mouth.
He kissed me back, and I was even happier.
I think it might have ended there—a few nighttime visits, some shared food and commiseration over having feelings for someone who liked you but didn’t like you—except it was so nice to kiss him. To have him kiss me back. He was everything I’d wanted in a guy—cute, smart, sweet, and I thought …
I thought sex would make him love me.
No, that’s a lie. I didn’t think that. I hoped it, but the bare, honest fact behind what happened is that I wanted to have sex with him. I wanted those pale arms of his wrapped around me; I wanted to see all of him. I wanted him to see all of me.
He said he didn’t think it was a good idea. He said I was only fifteen, and
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