When Susie Harps remarked that the town would be perfect if we didn’t let white trash stay, I was seconds away from leaping at her and pulling out her extensions. “I’m just saying, it would be best if his father just went ahead and drank himself to death. Then maybe Jackson would off himself next,” she said in such a despicable tone.
How could those words ever leave someone’s mouth?
How could someone be so shockingly evil? Wishing death on someone? Really?
My arm reached out and if not for a hand landing on my forearm, she would’ve been on the ground.
“Whoa there, slugger,” Alex whispered. As I turned around, I saw his smiling face, and he shook his head. “It’s not worth it.”
“Did you hear what she just said?”
“Yes, but still, it’s not worth it,” he told me. “The more you react to their comments, the more power they have over you. Just walk away. Come on, let’s get some cotton candy.” He placed his arm around my shoulders, still smiling, but I felt sick to my stomach.
“They wished him dead,” I barked.
“Yeah, well, that’s their karma to deal with. If you pulled out that girl’s hair, that would be your karma, but look! Now your karma is clean, and you get cotton candy. I call that a win-win.” He bought me a cotton candy, and I shook my head at him in disbelief.
“How do you always stay so positive? With everything and everyone?”
“Oh, that’s easy—I smoke a lot of marijuana.” He smirked. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about Jackson, actually. I just wanted to say thank you.”
“For what?”
“Giving his darkness a chance. As you know, he’s a good person once you peel back those layers, and it means the world to me that you took the time to do that.”
“It’s not just a one-way thing, Alex. He’s done the same thing for me. Whenever I feel like falling apart, he’s there to catch me.”
“That’s the type of friend Jackson is—loyal and always there for you.”
My heart skipped a beat. “You think I’m his friend?”
Alex snickered and cocked an eyebrow. “You think you’re not? Rumor has it he sends you texts.”
“Yeah…”
“Not to sound dramatic or anything,” he said, leaning in, “but the asshole doesn’t even text me back. You might be his new favorite person. If it was anyone else, I’d probably be pissed, but since it’s you”—he shrugged—“I’ll allow it.”
“So what does he do for the festival days? Does he hang out with his dad?”
“Nah. Normally he sits on top of the shop and drinks while watching the fireworks.”
“Alone?”
“Yeah. I’ve tried to join him, but he won’t have it. Alone is something he’s used to, I think, and he has a hard time breaking that pattern.”
Well, maybe it was time to have someone try to break it for him.
*
“What are you doing here?” Jackson asked as I made my way onto the roof of the auto shop, holding a bag in my hand.
“What does it look like? I’m bringing you barbecue.” I handed him the food, and he gave me a somber look.
“Thank you. You can leave it and go.”
“Orrr…” I smiled brightly, sitting beside him. “I could stay.”
“Orrr,” he responded, frowning sharply, “you can go.”
“Even though I brought you food? That just seems rude. I won’t talk, I swear. I just want a nice place to watch the fireworks.”
“Did Alex tell you I was here?”
“He might have mentioned it.”
He rolled his eyes. “Of course, he did. How was the carnival?” he asked.
I smirked. “Do you really care about the ins and outs of Chester events?”
“Not at all, but it seems like a big deal to you, so I thought I’d ask.”
Swoon.
Wait, did I just swoon?
When was the last time I swooned?
“It was good. They raised a lot of money for a great cause.” I told him about the MISS Foundation and what it meant to me, how they’d helped me through my miscarriages.
“Seven?” he questioned.
I nodded slowly. “Seven. I spoke with Josie about it a few weeks back. She’s lost a few of her own, too, and she has little hearts on her wrist with angel wings in memory of their lives. I thought about doing that, too, but my family’s a bit against tattoos. It’s not classy, as my mama would say.”
“Your body, your choice,” Jackson said, making me smile a little. “I think it’s a good idea to have a reminder of them.”
“Yeah…maybe. I’m just a bit tired of disappointing my mom.”
“Sometimes, you have to disappoint people to better yourself,” he told me.
“Maybe,” I said, still uncertain.
“You’ll get there,” he told me. “To the point where you don’t care what other people think.”
“That sounds like a great place to be.”
“Trust me, it is.” He turned toward me, locking those beautiful hazel eyes with mine. “You would make a great mother.”
Oh, Jackson…
“Ah, come on, princess. I thought we were past the crying thing,” he joked, brushing his thumb beneath my eyes.
“Sorry, I…that was a really nice thing to say, Jackson. Thank you.”
“Just the truth.”
We sat in silence, and it wasn’t long before the big show began. If there was one thing Chester was extremely good at—other than gossip—it was putting on a fireworks display.
“This peach festival was the last chunk of time I spent with my mom,” Jackson told me, staring out at the sky as it lit up. “We sat up here eating Bomb Pops and Cheetos Puffs, watching the display. We were quiet, and I just remember feeling whole, like for the first time in a long time, everything would be all right. I mean, sure she passed away shortly after that, but at that moment, the world was still. At that moment, I was happy.”
“Those are the things you have to hold—the moments.”
He gave me a half smile. “This is a good moment,” he said, his voice low as he turned back out toward the fireworks.
Yes, it was.
“So, Jackson, are we like…friends?”
He groaned, rolling his eyes in the most dramatic way. “Come on. Don’t do that, Grace.”
“Do what?”
“Be corny.”
“How is that corny?”
“Because you don’t ask people if they are your friend. They just…are.”
“Oh.” I nodded slowly, staring out into the night. “So, we just…are?”
“Yeah.” He nudged my shoulder with his. “We just are.”
I wouldn’t tell him how good it felt—just being with him.
As he looked out, his voice dropped low. “Listen, I know I’m not easy all the time. I’m a bit cold and hard to read, so thank you.”
“What are you thanking me for?”
“Being my friend. I never knew I needed you, but I did—I do.” He tilted his head my way and gave me a small smile, the kind that always made my heart skip. Jackson Emery didn’t smile a lot, so whenever he did, it felt like a secret gift he was only giving to me. “The only friend I’ve ever had was Tucker, you know? Then came you.”
“You want to know a secret?” I asked him.
“Yes.”
“I think you’re the most graceful person in this town.”
He laughed. “Bullshit.”
“No, I mean it—not the you they make you out to be, but the real you, the one who gives his all to care for his father, the one who holds a girl who’s having a panic attack, the one who doesn’t fight back when the world is fighting you. You have the most grace I’ve ever seen.”
“Princess?”
“Yes, Oscar?”
“You make it really hard.”
“For what?”
“For me to hate the whole world.”
31
Grace
Jackson and I began seeing one another most days. It was as if I was his escape from reality, and he was mine—or more so, we were each other’s escape from the fa?ade of superficiality in Chester. The town had been my home all my life, but lately, it felt as if I didn’t fit there anymore. The only time I felt like anything made sense was when I was with Jackson.
In his darkness, I found my light.