Falling Away

“I’m fine.” I nodded, sitting back down on the floor and spreading my legs around the laptop. “You?”

 

“Better now that you’re home.”

 

Shane graduated this year and would be off to college in California in the fall. But even there, she wouldn’t have much freedom. Her parents only agreed to pay the out-of-state tuition if she lived with her grandmother—on her father’s side—in San Francisco.

 

Shane was less than happy, but she rolled with it. Although I think she liked Shelburne Falls—she had lots of friends—she was looking for an environment that had more than a ten percent African-American population.

 

Her dad was black. He loved it here and from what I gathered, he was comfortable, but Shane craved more diversity, more culture, more everything.

 

She cleared her throat and leaned on her knees. “What are you doing?” The question sounded like an accusation.

 

I looked up into her stunning hazel eyes. “Getting ready for my community service. I’m tutoring incoming seniors this summer.”

 

“I heard.” She still stared at me as if she were confused. “I meant why the hell are you holed up in the house when for once in your life Liam or Sandra Fucking Carter doesn’t have you on a leash?”

 

“You know I love you,” I started, “but I have a nice, peaceful house and a vibrator upstairs. I’m good,” I joked. “Besides, do you really think I should go looking for trouble, Shane?”

 

“You won’t have to look far.” Her taunting voice sounded sexy. “Has it escaped your notice that a party has commenced next door?”

 

Ah. Now I got it. I looked at her attire, noticing the skintight black miniskirt and the white tank top. Unlike my tank, though, hers had sequins around the neckline and in one long strip down the front. With her café au lait skin, dark, straightened hair falling below her shoulder blades, and her legs that went on for days, she was stunningly beautiful.

 

I wondered if Jax ever noticed her, but I shook my head clear. I didn’t care.

 

“No, it hasn’t escaped my notice,” I mumbled. “I think the vibrations of the music are shaking the foundations of this house, actually.”

 

“Well, I’m going. And so are you.”

 

“No, I’m not.” I let out a bitter laugh and unwrapped a piece of spearmint gum, sticking it into my mouth. “Jax is trouble, and I have no desire to be over there.”

 

“Yes, you do. Everyone wants to be over there. And every girl gets along with Jax.”

 

I couldn’t help it. I looked up and shot her what I was sure was a nasty little scowl. But I quickly looked back down again. Images of Jax screwing those two girls a couple of years ago flashed through my mind, and I thought of everyone else he’d probably had since then, and I …

 

I fisted the gum wrapper.

 

Why did he affect me so much? Jaxon Trent was just a cocky kid who had liked to push my buttons in high school—but for some reason my damn body had more of a reaction to him than the boyfriend I’d had for five years. And even though I didn’t consider what he might or might not have been doing while I was gone, I damn well couldn’t stop thinking about it now.

 

Oh, Christ. I hope Shane had never slept with him.

 

I almost asked.

 

“Well, I don’t,” I grumbled. “Jax was always bad news. Does he even go to college?”

 

“To Clarke,” she answered quickly, and I blinked.

 

Clarke College?

 

It was local. Close enough for him to live in Shelburne Falls. But it was also private and had very high ratings for its academics. Shame warmed my cheeks for assuming he wasn’t college material. He was, and he was in a much better school than I attended.

 

“So he still lives next door year-round with Katherine?” I ventured.

 

“No, she married Madoc’s dad last year and moved into his apartment in the city. She gave Jax the house when he graduated from high school.”

 

So that was Jax’s house now.

 

I closed my laptop. “What’s with all the cars outside?”

 

Her full lips, painted a glossy red, spread in a smile, showing off her perfect white teeth. “A lot’s changed, Juliet.”

 

“Trying to be cryptic? What the hell’s changed?”

 

She shrugged. “It’s hard to explain,” she said, leaning back and resting her arms on the sides of the chair. “You just need to see. We’re going to the party, and you’re going to have fun.”

 

I shook my head. “Neither of us is going over. I’m keeping my nose clean, and you’re severely underage and without a party buddy.”

 

Her eyes practically twinkled. “Oh, no,” she gasped, putting her palm to her chest. “I can’t be without a party buddy,” she said as she stood up.

 

I stared at her. “What are you doing?”

 

She inched past the chair toward the entryway, smirking with her hand still on her chest. “Without a party buddy, I might do something moronic,” she teased, still moving away, “like take a mysterious drink laced with GHB from a tattooed ex-con who wants to take me upstairs to introduce me to his buddies!” She opened the door as I scrambled off the floor. “Bye,” she yelled.

 

And then she bolted out the front door, slamming it shut.

 

“Shane!” I growled, scurrying after her.

 

Damn, damn, damn! I pulled open the door, darted out to the porch, and … shit! Spinning around, I dived back into the house and shoved my feet into my black flip-flops that were lying in the entryway.

 

Yanking open the door again, I ran outside, leaping over all the steps on the porch and landing on the brick walkway.

 

Ugh, that girl!

 

She was gone. Twisting left and then right, I didn’t see her sparkly white top anywhere. She was already at the party, and I sucked in breath after breath, trying to calm the tornado in my stomach.

 

Eighteen. Without a buddy. And the closest person I’d had to real family in a long time. All good reasons to go get her.

 

I looked down at my outfit. Sloppy and disheveled, in clothes that hung on me, hair kinky with the natural wave that I hadn’t straightened out after my shower and barely any makeup on.

 

Well, the good thing was I’d push off any unwanted attention. That was for sure.

 

I stomped across the lawn, feeling the sharp blades of grass poke my ankles. The sun had set an hour ago, but the wet heat still hung in the air, and my back suddenly cooled with the light layer of sweat already coating it.

 

The long driveway was packed with cars—two rows, five deep—and the street was a damn parking lot. I recognized most of the cars I’d seen earlier. Different makes and models, some with loud paint and design work, others calm, clean, and sleek-looking. There were even cars parked in the middle of Fall Away Lane, as if the neighborhood residents wouldn’t need their own street to drive on tonight.