“For fuck’s sake.” I scrub my hand over my face, then my chest, right where it fucking hurts. I tap on my mom’s contact, and the call connects on the first ring. “Mom? What’s going on? The girls are upset, and they said you and Dad had a fight.”
“Garrett,” Mom cries softly. “He left.”
“Left? What do you mean he left?”
“We had a fight, and he just…he…walked out.”
My mind races to process her words, but before I truly can, she adds on a whisper, “He took a bottle of whiskey with him.”
As I pace my living room, I try my dad’s number over and over, each time hoping for a different outcome. It’s always the same: straight to voice mail. I leave one each time, until it tells me his mailbox is full.
I try the only other person I want to talk to. She’s always been the one that’s needed me, but right now, I think I need her. To talk me down, to tell me my dad won’t relapse, that he’s stronger than that, that he’s not going to put my sisters through the same thing he put me through, that he isn’t going to drag my mom—and himself—through this all over again.
Except she can’t make those promises. None of those choices are hers to make, and the only person who gets to decide how this plays out is my dad.
I just need her here, need her hand in mine to remember that good things happen, that it doesn’t always need to be so fucking rainy when you’ve got a sun that shines so bright.
But Jennie’s phone goes straight to voice mail too.
CHAPTER 31
STAY
JENNIE
“Fuck yes!”
Simon claps both hands to mine, and I can’t stop grinning, euphoria coasting through me.
“That felt fucking awesome,” he rasps out, hands on his waist as he catches his breath.
“We fucking nailed it!” I feel so good about it, I can’t help tossing my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. He lifts me in the air, spinning me.
“I feel the love,” Mikhail exclaims, hands clasped beneath his chin. “It’s breathtaking and awe inspiring and you two are going to be the hit of the show.”
God, I hope so. I’m beyond exhausted, teetering on the edge of delirium. Every inch of my body aches from nonstop rehearsals, my brain demolished from lack of sleep. I’m eager for tomorrow, ready to give it my all on stage and then leave it right there for a little while, take a well-deserved break before we plow full steam ahead into choreography for our year-end performance.
“We’re always the hit of the show,” Simon says. “Think it’s impossible not to be when I’ve got this beautiful woman up there with me.” He winks, poking my waist. “I’m lucky to be your partner.”
“You’re damn right you are.” Sure, I was thinking it, but it’s Mikhail who speaks it. “I can’t wait for the day I’m paying to see you on Broadway, Jennie.”
Yuck, sounds terrifying. Do I like being center stage? Obviously; let me shine, baby. But also, let’s keep the shining to a time-limited and controlled atmosphere. Broadway comes with publicity, being stuck in the on position for far too long, things I’d rather avoid.
Mikhail prattles on about how fantastic we are, and I’m extra pleased when he remarks that kiss he suggested months ago isn’t needed between our chemistry and talent. He sends us home to rest, and Simon and I hit the sauna first for a quick steam. It’s amazing how quickly the knots begin to unfurl, but by the time I’m toweling off after my shower, I can barely keep my eyes open. I’m worried I’m going to curl up in Garrett’s lap and fall asleep when all I want to do is talk to him.
I pull a set of fresh clothes from my locker and dig my phone from my bag. Missed calls from Garrett sprinkled throughout the afternoon litter my screen, which is mostly how our days look lately. We almost never manage to catch each other, and I’ve found myself spending the majority of our fleeting video chats reacquainting myself with the way the skin around his eyes crinkles when he laughs, or how his mouth tilts, tugging up on the right side first before giving way to a full explosion, his striking blue-green eyes always so beautifully vulnerable and breathtaking, like a robin’s egg in the spring.
As I pull my sweater on, that bear emoji dances across my screen once more. I’m about to answer when I hear that awful, patronizing laugh, the one that makes me want to drag my nails down a chalkboard.
I tuck my phone in my pocket and sweep my hair over my shoulders before securing it in a knot. I smile forcefully at Krissy and the Ashleys.
“I spotted those UGGs and knew it must be you. You’re the only person I know who still wears those.”
“It’s snowing.” I yank the zipper of my bag closed and hook the strap over my shoulder. “They’re warm and comfy.”
“Ugly too.” She must think her giggle softens the blow, but it only pisses me off. She props her hip against the door frame, blocking my exit, and her friends look about as uncomfortable as I do. “Everyone’s going out tomorrow night after the show. Wanna come?”
“Really?” I can’t stop the eager way the word flies from my mouth, my fist tightening around the strap of my bag. A hopeful smile tugs at my lips, and my heart thuds with excitement.
“Of course. You never come out with us.”
“You’ve never asked me,” I remind her.
She dismisses me with a wave. “We’ve asked you plenty of times.”
They haven’t, actually, but—“Oh shit. Tomorrow? I can’t. It’s my brother’s birthday. We’re going to dinner after the show.”
“So come later. Meet us at the club.”
“I…” have a date. A real one. And though I’m sure he’d tell me to go, to make friends and have fun, I’d rather be with him. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”
Krissy’s eyes narrow. She’s really a beautiful girl. Shame she has the personality of a slimy, evil snail. “You can’t, or you won’t?”
“I have plans that I’m not going to reschedule.” I’m not in the mood to take her bait. I want to go home and spend the rest of the night with my best friend. So I give her a smile as I squeeze through the door and into the hall. “I’m free the rest of the weekend if you want to go out again. I’d love to celebrate with you guys.”
“When are you going to stop living in your brother’s shadow?”
The question stops me in my tracks, fingernails biting into my palm. There’s an angry tic in my jaw and a hard, fast gallop in my ears. Slowly, I spin back to Krissy and her lackeys. They look just as stunned at what she’s said. “What did you say?”
“You heard me.” Krissy lifts a brow, pinning her arms across her chest. “But then why would you ever want to stop living in his shadow? Being Carter Beckett’s sister has afforded you so many luxuries. A fancy apartment, an expensive car, a scholarship to an exclusive program, and a job offer most people could only dream of.” She’s got an inch on me, such a minuscule difference, but one that feels humongous when she looks down her nose at me as if I’m the smallest, most insignificant thing she’s ever encountered. “Becoming your own person would require you to work for something for once in your life. And that’s something I’m not sure you know how to do.”