“Here, let me help you.” Jess scooted over and put his arm around my shoulder. He held the large bag against my eye. I put one over my right hand and then held the other up to my lip.
My head rested against his chest. Jess must have come straight from football practice. His hair was still a little wet, and he smelled like ivory soap. I closed my eyes, letting myself relax. The throbbing in my face numbed under the packs. Feeling his body move up and down with each breath, I felt calmer than I had in months.
“I never said thank you for the other night. You know, staying with me,” I muttered.
“I was worried about you. You were covered in cheesy Doritos, babblin’ shit.”
“Ugg, no more Doritos. I’ve never felt that sick before.”
“You snore by the way when you’re drunk.”
“No, I don’t.”
“You do, like a pig snortin’ gravel.”
“That’s not funny.”
My father walked in the door. Seeing his eyes move from me then over to Jess, I panicked. Finding us both on the couch together just affirmed his questions from the car.
"Hey, Mr. Tanner,” Jess said, as I moved quickly to the other cushion. Before today, our friendship had never been an issue with my father.
“I guess you heard about Alex."
"Yeah, she’s promised not to do it again."
I shot a nonverbal, shut up. Less talking he did the better with my dad right now.
"Well, I have some news. I just talked to Frank. He’s got a list for you. Should be Thanksgiving by the time it’s done. Every spare moment outside school and Jeeter’s, you’ll be on the ranch doing whatever Frank tells you to do. Understand?"
"Yes, sir," I mumbled.
"I can help you some," Jess offered, looking over at me.
"I don't think Alex needs your help on this one. Unless there's some reason you think she does?"
"No, Jess," I glared at him.
Despite my father being worried, he let Jess stay for dinner. Every mouth full of chili burned the cracks in my busted lip. Jess got increasingly quiet as the meal progressed. We chatted about the new horse Uncle Frank purchased over the weekend. Even that wasn't enough to pull out his usual pancake syrup voice of excitement.
After dinner, I walked him out on the porch. Jess sat down on the top step expecting me to join him. I lowered my aching body down next to him, knowing my father expected me to come immediately back inside the house. Jess watched the dark sky, silent and weary. Sometimes, I wondered what really went on under that shaggy mop of hair. I thought I knew this boy so well and then sometimes he was a complete mystery.
“Are you ok, Jess?”
He turned at the sound of my voice. His eyes seemed dark in the dim light, instead of the usual vibrant blue. Jess reached up to touch my swollen lip. “Guess I’m gonna have to look at that ugly face every time you talk now.”
“Don’t touch it. You’ll just make it worse.”
"I don't think that's possible." His fingertips traced around the puffiness then slipped down behind my neck. He pulled me close to his side, leaving his arm wrapped around my shoulders. The warmth of his body felt comforting. He went back to silent and brooding.
"You can talk to me, Jess."
“I know,” he said, letting out a deep breath. "I really messed everythin’ up with you."
"You didn't mess up anything. The bruises will go away and then it's like it never happened."
"But I can't help but feeling like it's my fault. And it's all because I thought… it was easier."
"Easier? That doesn't make sense. Easier than what? Being without her?"
"No, it's not that. Just let it go."
My father opened the door causing me to jump. "It’s getting late. You need to go home, Jess."
"Yes, sir."
I waited until I heard the knob click. "I'm sorry but things might be a little, um, weird for a while. He thinks I did it because of you. I can't tell him the truth. It would hurt him to know."
"That ain't the truth? But I thought you were defendin' my honor?" He smiled, but it never reached his eyes.
"Very funny."
"Alright, I'm leavin'." He stood up and stretched. "Pick you up in the mornin'?"
"My dad's taking me to school. I can’t go anywhere with you for a while."
"Damn, he really is pissed.”
"It’s easier to blame you than to think his daughter beat the shit out of Ashley Cartwright for no apparent reason. He has to see her parents tomorrow, you know. There's only one building between the stores."
"Shit, I didn't think 'bout that.”
“I know. This place sucks.”
“It’s gonna be ok tomorrow.” He gave me a quick squeeze around the shoulders. “Night, Alex."
"Night, Jess."
The pipes fired up on his truck, but the dirt cloud trailed off in the opposite direction of home. Without even asking, I knew Jess drove out toward the old burned up stump; his thinking spot.
School was difficult. Everyone talked, just like I predicted. The rumors circulated, just like I knew they would about me. Conversations stopped whenever I rounded a corner in the hallway. My skin pricked up, hearing the whispers. All of it served as a different type of torment than the verbal assaults from Ashley.
A few days after the fight, I found a box sitting on the porch with a note. Lifting the lid, I stared at a pink set of boxing gloves. I opened the card to identify the sender of such an odd gift. A smile spread across my still swollen lips. I guess everyone didn’t hate me.
Hey Slugger, would you be my date to homecoming? – Gentry
Chapter 22
When I was sixteen…
On the back of the closet door, a store-bought mirror reflected the image of a person who seemed like a stranger. My glossy lips pursed into a frown as I turned to see the back of my creation. The pale, blue silk swirled into a flowing pool around my feet. I felt weird and out of place. Homecoming dances were not my thing.
Earlier this afternoon, I let an enthusiastic cosmetic worker apply a whole face worth of makeup. She decked out my eyelids in sparkly gold and blue shadow then outlined her work with a very itchy, dark brown pencil. This left my hair as the biggest self-styling obstacle. I liked wearing it up and rarely wore it down. It just was more practical. However, homecoming wasn’t about being practical, which I hated. I finally settled on curling my long red hair into loose ringlets.
“What do you think, Carrot?”
The little orange ball of fur sat watching me in fascination. I scratched the purring chin with my bare nails. In honor of tonight, I scraped off the black paint. My bracelets were gone too. I had to cut the braided strands after the fight because they were soaked in Ashley’s blood.
I took one more look in the mirror, making sure my chest stayed crushed under the strapless top. The last thing I needed was a wardrobe malfunction to add to my current notoriety. As I entered the living room, my father looked surprise. I noticed the camera gripped tightly in his hand.
“Really, Dad? Pictures?”
“I want to document the one time I know you purposely dressed this way. You look very beautiful.”
“You can take one picture. That’s it.”
“I also get two when your date gets here.”
“Dad! No, please don’t.”
Despite being grounded, my father agreed homecoming was technically a school activity, which gave the needed permission to attend the dance with Gentry. I think he was slightly relieved to see another boy in the picture besides Jess. After the fight, my father watched our interactions a little closer every time my childhood friend walked into the farmhouse. It was total nonsense, but what teenager could reason with her father.
I heard a knock at the front door. The butterflies fluttered through my chest as I pulled open the creaky, wooden frame. Gentry stood on the front porch, looking a little anxious. My eyes traced his jacket and tie all the way down to his shiny black cowboy boots. He looked cute tonight, like I wanted to kiss him kind of cute. I blushed at the thought.
“Alex, you look really awesome,” he said, flashing a big smile. “I mean, that dress is hot!”
“My dad is standing here.” I opened the door a little wider.