Into the Deep
Page 31
I was wrapped up warm in my own coat and scarf but I was wearing my gym clothes underneath. Jake was here … but by his attire, I could assume he wasn’t coming to the gym with me. So why was he here?
Jake lifted his gaze from the ground and once again, my body reacted to the impact of his dark eyes. I shivered and crossed my arms over my chest in a protective gesture.
“I’m sorry about the other night,” he apologized softly.
“It’s okay.” I knew we were both wondering if I meant it.
The silence between us became too thick to bear and I made a little huffing noise before telling him dryly, “I didn’t sleep with him. And he wasn’t happy about it.” Why was I explaining myself? Was I really that afraid of him being mad at me? After what’d he’d done? It occurred to me I might need therapy.
As I pondered over whether it was a bad idea to get free therapy from Andie, since she was hardly impartial over the subject, a dangerous alertness leapt into Jake’s expression. “How not happy? Did he do something to you?” he pushed off the wall, bristling with aggression.
I hurried to assure him. “No, no. He was just a jerk. But an honest one.”
“Lowe didn’t say. He just said he walked you home.”
“Yeah.”
The silence returned.
Two girls walked past, their eyes glued to Jake. As they walked up the hill away from us, they started giggling and casting smiles at him over their shoulders.
Some things never changed.
“It took me off guard,” Jake suddenly said.
I turned back to him, frowning in confusion. “What?”
“Seeing you … with him. It took me off guard. I reacted badly. I’m sorry.”
Even more confused than I’d already been, I dragged a hand over my head and down through my ponytail, trying to think what the best answer was. Something not confusing. Something that reminded us where we were now. I didn’t do it gently. “It’s been a while, Jake. You must know that there have been other guys.” Guy singular, but he didn’t need to know that. I’d already explained myself when I didn’t need to, confusing the situation even more.
If I were anyone else, I would’ve missed that little flare of anger in the back of his eyes. He hid it well and he hid it quickly. “Of course. I’m just trying to wrap my head around all of this. Sometimes it feels like only yesterday we were lying in the back of my truck, you know.”
“Well, it wasn’t.”
Jake studied me a moment and I tried my best not to squirm. Finally, he nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I just came here to see if I hadn’t f**ked everything up again.”
I wanted to scream at him—demand to know why he’d f**ked everything up in the first place, and then stuck the knife in deeper by bringing another girl to the place we’d planned to come together. Instead, I nodded tightly. “We’re good.”
He appeared to relax a little and he gave me a small smile. “We’ll go to the gym together next time, yeah?”
My answering smile was equally small. “Sure.”
“So your mom says Jacob Caplin’s there and that you’re spending time with him.”
Silently, I cursed my mother. I should’ve known she wouldn’t be able to keep this from Dad. Thankfully, Dad and I were talking on the phone and not on Skype so he couldn’t see my murderous expression. “Mmm-hmm.”
“Don’t ‘mmm-hmm’ me. Were you ever going to tell me?”
“There’s not much to tell, Dad.”
“That boy broke your heart. I don’t want him near enough to do it again.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“I’m not convinced.”
“Dad, I don’t want to talk about this with you.”
Dad sighed, causing the line to crackle. “You were just a kid, Charlotte, and he changed you. One minute you were happier than I’d ever seen you, and the next you were closed off. I didn’t like having to watch that.”
I bowed my head, feeling at once loved and sorry that I’d done that to my family. “I’m not anymore,” I promised him softly.
“You sure about that, sweetheart? Because I don’t see any other boy hanging around. Let’s not even get started on Alex.”
“I don’t want to talk about Alex, either, Dad. There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Maybe you should come home.”
I laughed and then immediately sighed. “I’m okay. I won’t do anything stupid. Lesson learned.”
“You know you can still trust people, Charley, without it turning into another lesson. I think Jake is just this reminder that you can’t depend on people, and I don’t want my daughter feeling that way.”
“I don’t feel that way about people … I feel that way about Jake. There’s a difference.”
“Then why are you hanging around the boy?”
“Because he’s friends with my friends,” I lied.
Before my dad could say anything else, I heard Mom calling him to get his breakfast. It was Saturday, early there, and Dad had called before he had to head to work. It would’ve been nice to talk to him about something other than Jake.
“Got to go, sweetheart. You take care, all right? We’ll speak soon. Love you.”
“Me too. Bye, Dad.”
I hung up and growled at my cell. I was going to kill my mother.
Hearing masculine laughter from the kitchen, I wondered if it was Beck and decided to go in and keep him and Claud company. The two of them were very busy pretending everything was cool between them. However, Claudia confided it helped when they weren’t alone.
And yet they still spent time alone together. That completely made sense. Not.
Strolling into the kitchen, I discovered it wasn’t just Beck and Claud in there. Lowe, Jake, Gemma, and Matt were sitting around chatting.
“Hey,” I greeted as I came to a stop near Jake. We’d been to the gym together since our little chat outside at the gates. We’d also grabbed coffee and taken a stroll through Regent Gardens and into Leith, wandering around the cold city and talking about everything. Everything except us. We’d distracted ourselves from that by joking around in tourist shops trying on tartan hats with ginger hair glued inside them, and drinking Starbucks while we nibbled on sugary Scottish tablet that made our teeth ache. I’d also attempted to take a photograph of Jake standing next to a bagpiper dressed in full tartan regalia. The piper— not the same guy every time— stood on the corner of Princes Street and Waverly Station. He wasn’t there every day but he was there a lot, and I got used to his pipes playing the soundtrack to my life in Scotland. Some people didn’t like the pipes, but for me they were like this sentient being that totally got me. As soon as I neared New Town it was like those pipes sensed me and whatever mood I was in its tune would change, as if it was saying, ‘Me too’. Some days it was lively, its high pitched song in harmony with me as it said, ‘I’m feeling good today too. The air is crisp, I’m in a land full of mystery, and I feel up for an adventure’. Other days, more often of late since Jake came so thoroughly back into my life, the pipe’s song swung from reflective to almost mournful. Sometimes I’d stand on the opposite side of the street, the pedestrians and traffic quieting to a hum beneath the pipe’s story. Like Scotland itself, the melancholy tune was quiet, dignified, braving life and keeping the secret of its pain buried. Its haunting wail never failed to cause the hair on the back of my neck to rise. Twice now Jake had come upon me just standing there listening to it. Twice now he’d just looked at me as if he knew exactly what I was thinking but was afraid to bring it up—an action (or inaction rather) that was becoming common between us.
Jake lifted his gaze from the ground and once again, my body reacted to the impact of his dark eyes. I shivered and crossed my arms over my chest in a protective gesture.
“I’m sorry about the other night,” he apologized softly.
“It’s okay.” I knew we were both wondering if I meant it.
The silence between us became too thick to bear and I made a little huffing noise before telling him dryly, “I didn’t sleep with him. And he wasn’t happy about it.” Why was I explaining myself? Was I really that afraid of him being mad at me? After what’d he’d done? It occurred to me I might need therapy.
As I pondered over whether it was a bad idea to get free therapy from Andie, since she was hardly impartial over the subject, a dangerous alertness leapt into Jake’s expression. “How not happy? Did he do something to you?” he pushed off the wall, bristling with aggression.
I hurried to assure him. “No, no. He was just a jerk. But an honest one.”
“Lowe didn’t say. He just said he walked you home.”
“Yeah.”
The silence returned.
Two girls walked past, their eyes glued to Jake. As they walked up the hill away from us, they started giggling and casting smiles at him over their shoulders.
Some things never changed.
“It took me off guard,” Jake suddenly said.
I turned back to him, frowning in confusion. “What?”
“Seeing you … with him. It took me off guard. I reacted badly. I’m sorry.”
Even more confused than I’d already been, I dragged a hand over my head and down through my ponytail, trying to think what the best answer was. Something not confusing. Something that reminded us where we were now. I didn’t do it gently. “It’s been a while, Jake. You must know that there have been other guys.” Guy singular, but he didn’t need to know that. I’d already explained myself when I didn’t need to, confusing the situation even more.
If I were anyone else, I would’ve missed that little flare of anger in the back of his eyes. He hid it well and he hid it quickly. “Of course. I’m just trying to wrap my head around all of this. Sometimes it feels like only yesterday we were lying in the back of my truck, you know.”
“Well, it wasn’t.”
Jake studied me a moment and I tried my best not to squirm. Finally, he nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I just came here to see if I hadn’t f**ked everything up again.”
I wanted to scream at him—demand to know why he’d f**ked everything up in the first place, and then stuck the knife in deeper by bringing another girl to the place we’d planned to come together. Instead, I nodded tightly. “We’re good.”
He appeared to relax a little and he gave me a small smile. “We’ll go to the gym together next time, yeah?”
My answering smile was equally small. “Sure.”
“So your mom says Jacob Caplin’s there and that you’re spending time with him.”
Silently, I cursed my mother. I should’ve known she wouldn’t be able to keep this from Dad. Thankfully, Dad and I were talking on the phone and not on Skype so he couldn’t see my murderous expression. “Mmm-hmm.”
“Don’t ‘mmm-hmm’ me. Were you ever going to tell me?”
“There’s not much to tell, Dad.”
“That boy broke your heart. I don’t want him near enough to do it again.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“I’m not convinced.”
“Dad, I don’t want to talk about this with you.”
Dad sighed, causing the line to crackle. “You were just a kid, Charlotte, and he changed you. One minute you were happier than I’d ever seen you, and the next you were closed off. I didn’t like having to watch that.”
I bowed my head, feeling at once loved and sorry that I’d done that to my family. “I’m not anymore,” I promised him softly.
“You sure about that, sweetheart? Because I don’t see any other boy hanging around. Let’s not even get started on Alex.”
“I don’t want to talk about Alex, either, Dad. There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Maybe you should come home.”
I laughed and then immediately sighed. “I’m okay. I won’t do anything stupid. Lesson learned.”
“You know you can still trust people, Charley, without it turning into another lesson. I think Jake is just this reminder that you can’t depend on people, and I don’t want my daughter feeling that way.”
“I don’t feel that way about people … I feel that way about Jake. There’s a difference.”
“Then why are you hanging around the boy?”
“Because he’s friends with my friends,” I lied.
Before my dad could say anything else, I heard Mom calling him to get his breakfast. It was Saturday, early there, and Dad had called before he had to head to work. It would’ve been nice to talk to him about something other than Jake.
“Got to go, sweetheart. You take care, all right? We’ll speak soon. Love you.”
“Me too. Bye, Dad.”
I hung up and growled at my cell. I was going to kill my mother.
Hearing masculine laughter from the kitchen, I wondered if it was Beck and decided to go in and keep him and Claud company. The two of them were very busy pretending everything was cool between them. However, Claudia confided it helped when they weren’t alone.
And yet they still spent time alone together. That completely made sense. Not.
Strolling into the kitchen, I discovered it wasn’t just Beck and Claud in there. Lowe, Jake, Gemma, and Matt were sitting around chatting.
“Hey,” I greeted as I came to a stop near Jake. We’d been to the gym together since our little chat outside at the gates. We’d also grabbed coffee and taken a stroll through Regent Gardens and into Leith, wandering around the cold city and talking about everything. Everything except us. We’d distracted ourselves from that by joking around in tourist shops trying on tartan hats with ginger hair glued inside them, and drinking Starbucks while we nibbled on sugary Scottish tablet that made our teeth ache. I’d also attempted to take a photograph of Jake standing next to a bagpiper dressed in full tartan regalia. The piper— not the same guy every time— stood on the corner of Princes Street and Waverly Station. He wasn’t there every day but he was there a lot, and I got used to his pipes playing the soundtrack to my life in Scotland. Some people didn’t like the pipes, but for me they were like this sentient being that totally got me. As soon as I neared New Town it was like those pipes sensed me and whatever mood I was in its tune would change, as if it was saying, ‘Me too’. Some days it was lively, its high pitched song in harmony with me as it said, ‘I’m feeling good today too. The air is crisp, I’m in a land full of mystery, and I feel up for an adventure’. Other days, more often of late since Jake came so thoroughly back into my life, the pipe’s song swung from reflective to almost mournful. Sometimes I’d stand on the opposite side of the street, the pedestrians and traffic quieting to a hum beneath the pipe’s story. Like Scotland itself, the melancholy tune was quiet, dignified, braving life and keeping the secret of its pain buried. Its haunting wail never failed to cause the hair on the back of my neck to rise. Twice now Jake had come upon me just standing there listening to it. Twice now he’d just looked at me as if he knew exactly what I was thinking but was afraid to bring it up—an action (or inaction rather) that was becoming common between us.
