My sneakers squeak as I skid to a stop, and rage thuds in my ears, in line with the beating of my heart.
His expression tells me everything I need to know: he’s not sorry. He wasn’t before and he’s sure as hell not now. What he wants is forgiveness he doesn’t deserve. He wants to walk away without the guilt of what he’s done.
“Sometimes an apology isn’t enough.”
When he opens his mouth, I beat him to it.
“Sometimes it’s not enough,” I repeat. “People like you throw out apologies like greetings, empty and meaningless, something you feel required to say. And people like me, people who like to believe there’s good in everyone, that we deserve second chances because we all make mistakes…people like me forgive you. We forgive you once, then twice. We forgive you again and again until somebody walks into our lives and shows us it’s not hard to keep promises. To apologize and mean it. To commit to being better. Until somebody shows us there’s no room in our lives for people who don’t care about boundaries. For people like you, Simon.”
Alexa slips her hand into mine, squeezing gently before she urges her younger sisters forward, and we head toward the exit, together.
I’m halfway out the door when I remember an item at the bottom of my backpack. I stowed it there at the beginning of the year. It was meant for an unsuspecting Krissy, but it wouldn’t be wasted on Simon.
I dig the hefty item out of my bag, walk back to Simon, and place it in his hand. “Here. I got you this before everything. You might as well have it.”
The smarmy grin that crawls up his face lets me know that, despite literally everything I’ve just said, he thinks this means I still care. So I stand there and wait for him to open the black cylinder.
Simon makes a triumphant noise as the object spring opens, and my grin grows as his dies.
Shiny confetti dicks in every shade of pink rain down around him, covering his hair, sticking to his cheeks, his clothing. They fall inside his open backpack, and a particularly large fucker catches on his top lip, clinging there as his eyes blaze.
For the life of me, I can’t get my grin to stop growing. “Let’s go, girls.”
“Um,” Stephie starts cautiously. “Were those…penises?”
“Yes. Don’t tell your mother.”
“Can we tell Daddy?”
“No. Wait. Yes.” That man loves me. So does Garrett’s mom, but she has a way of laying on the guilt with only the look in her eyes. I try to avoid being on the receiving end of that stare. Sometimes I just look anywhere but at her and she says she knows I’m avoiding her.
When we’re loaded in the car, I face the girls.
“Don’t ever let anyone walk all over you, ladies. Know your worth, set your boundaries, and don’t let anyone disrespect either of those things. If they do, knee ’em in the nuts and hit ’em with an exploding confetti dick bomb straight to the face. Understood?”
“Yes, Jennie,” they respond in unison.
“I wanna be strong like you when I grow up,” Alexa says quietly.
“You already are strong. But it’s okay to have days where you don’t feel strong too.”
“I wanna be a dancer and a cheerleader when I grow up,” Gabby pipes up. “Like you and Emily.”
“Oh, honey. Emily’s not a real cheerleader.”
“Then how come she was wearing a cheerleading outfit when she was saying good-bye to her friend yesterday? Me and Stephie were riding our scooters in the hallway and we saw her.”
“You know what? That’s a great question. You should definitely ask her at lunch.”
I crank the ignition, connect my phone to the car with the adapter, then quickly yank the cord right back out at the message that lights the screen.
Bear: Dreamt about fucking ur soaking wet pussy all night long until ur throat was raw from screaming my name.
Bear: Oops, autocorrect. That was supposed to say good morning, sunshine.
“Is that Garrett?” Gabby asks, leaning around the seat to peek at my phone.
I tug it into my chest. “No.”
Alexa squints at me. “You’re lying.”
“I have to admit, Jennie, you do look guilty.” Stephie pokes my cheek. “Your face got super red when you read the message. Alexa was always like that when she was texting Jacob Daniels.”
“My face did not get super red.” Her brother just lit my insides on fire with a simple text message. “He was just being sweet. Super sweet.” I’m gonna let him tie me up tonight.
“What did he say that was so sweet?” Stephie frowns. “Did he say he wants to braid your hair? ’Cause last week I caught him with one of the ribbons you use in your hair. When I asked him what he was doing, he said he was going to braid your hair for you. His face got really red, too, and he was kinda yelling.” She shrugs. “I guess he really likes when you use those ribbons.”
“Yes,” I say slowly. “That’s definitely why he had my ribbon.”
“Maybe one day I’ll have a boyfriend who wants to tie my hair with a ribbon too,” Gabby says brightly.
Garrett’s gonna kill me.
It’s been a long week without Garrett.
All right, it’s only been four days.
It’s been a long four days without Garrett. They’ve been on the road a lot the past few weeks as the regular season finished up. They nabbed second place in their division, and they get one day off tomorrow before jumping into the first round of the play-offs here at home.
School is done, which means I have unlimited free time until I either get a job or open my own studio. I really want the studio, but with it comes a lot of work, so I’m thinking of taking a business course to help me get there. In the meantime, I’ve been spending all my free time with the girls—Olivia, Ireland, Cara, Emily, and Garrett’s sisters.
Watching my niece grow is truly the most incredible thing. She’s changed so much in just five weeks, and Cara and I sleep there most nights when the boys are away. Carter is on FaceTime with Olivia every single minute he’s not on the ice because he doesn’t want to miss a thing with Ireland.
I’ve been busy, but it doesn’t stop me from missing Garrett when he’s gone. With play-offs here, I can’t help but think about what lies on the other side: months with him all to myself.
Silver moonlight slices through the cracks in the blinds in Garrett’s bedroom, bouncing off the oversized mirror that hangs on the wall. Garrett hung it just for me when I temporarily moved in because I complained about not having somewhere to check out my ass and my outfits.
I strip down and turn on the lamp, standing in the reflection of the orange glow, admiring the body that’s carried my dreams of dancing for years on end.
I’ve filled out more in my time with Garrett, the result of endless mugs of hot chocolate with extra marshmallows, special edition Pop-Tarts, hearty dinners, munching on the couch while we watch movies, sleeping in in favor of early morning workouts, and just…appreciating every inch of myself, letting someone else appreciate it too. Areas that I spent years nit-picking, pulling at, looking for ways to make smaller, have softened in the most beautiful way. I’m more confident and in love with my body than I’ve ever been.