Chapter 18 Take Off Your Shirt.
GINGER:
“Mr Rivera will see you now,” Pauline says, gesturing towards the main house.
I stare at her, wondering how she got here without me noticing.
She’s a silent walker.
Yes, that has to be it. Because the alternative is that I'm far too distracted today.
I follow Pauline deeper into the building, nerves climbing higher with every step we take up the stairs. Just when I think we'll never stop, she cuts the journey short in front of a hallway.
“He’s right through there,” she says, pointing across from us. “Behind that door.”
“Thank you.”
My legs advance to said doorway, brows furrowed taking in the polished woodwork. This looks like it leads to a personal room rather than a drawing one. But I don't question it. They're probably wired different here anyway.
I reach for the door handle and twist.
But there is no older Jayden look-alike standing on the other end like I expect.
As a matter-of-fact, there's no one in sight. I almost turn back, thinking I must've entered the wrong place, when a rustle from the bed catches my eye.
“We've got to stop meeting like this,” Jayden says, voice rough from sleep—or the lack thereof. “I'm beginning to think you actually like me.”
He rolls onto his back, arms resting behind his head, lips lifted in a smirk that's far too subtle for mere amusement. His skin is discoloured in multiple places. Lustrous dark hair tousled. A faint spot of dried blood lingers on the side of his mouth. It's like he walked through hell and survived.
I almost feel bad, but then I remember the trouble he's just gotten me into.
“Oh, please. I'm only here to smoothen out your stupid account of events,” I say.
Liar.
I cross my arms, suddenly feeling self-aware standing before him. “Where's your father?”
He chuckles.
“I'm sorry, did I stutter?”
“No, it's just… I can't believe you actually came here.”
“Shouldn't I have? It's not like I had much of a choice. Your Dad and our A.P Lit. teacher made sure of that.”
He laughs again, and this time, I lose it.
“What is with the laughter?” I spark, eyes zeroing in on him. “First you convince me to get you out of the hospital—avoiding the question when I ask why… and then you throw me under the bus just to make jest when I try to sort things?”
The anger I had been suppressing has returned with a vengeance. I’d initially been holding off till after I met with his father, but since he's here reminding me of it, I might as well give him the brunt end of my tongue too.
Jayden moves to sit straight, pushing himself up against the pillows with some difficulty. Gone is the smug, cocky, captain. Now he won't meet my gaze.
“The truth is… he isn't around,” he says, so quiet I almost don't catch it.
“What?”
“My father. Mildred. He isn't actually in the country.”
Oh.
I suppose that makes sense. A man with that kind of influence and wealth wouldn't be so easy to see. Especially not on a random afternoon such as this.
He must have made the call right after learning of the incident. And judging by his specific request that I be the one to tutor his son, I'm pretty sure I know who told him.
I set my backpack down on the dresser, tying up my hair in preparation for what's doomed to be a gruelling next two hours. Jayden turns away the second I look back up, like he hasn't just been caught staring.
“When would he be available?” I ask as the last stretch of elastic snaps into place. “Your Dad, I mean.”
“I don't know. He never specified. Could be a month or two, I don't really care,” he mutters under his breath. “Honestly, I wish they never come back.”
That last part surprises me, though I pretend not to hear it since he clearly hadn't meant it for my ears.
I jerk my thumb backwards. “But Pauline just said…”
“I made the call, Ginger.”
I pause.
“You did?”
He nods. “Yes.”
A fresh wave of irritation washes over me.
“Why, couldn't trust when I said I would come check on you like a reasonable being, so you had to personally enforce it?”
“No, it was meant as a joke, relax,” he says. “After you bailed on me during the drive last night, I realized I couldn't be miserable alone. If I had to be, you had to go through it too. Hence, alas, the idea to disturb you came to me.”
I can't believe this is the same person I wanted to help.
“Good one, Jayden,” I say, snatching my backpack and doing a 360 to the door. “Hope you enjoy the next few hours in solitude, because I'm done.”
“No, please. Wait.” He tries to scramble up from the bed to meet me, when he breaks into a cough and then a wheeze. Terror licks at my chest, and I'm by his side in seconds, touching his arm.
“Are you okay?”
“What do you think?”
One glance at my face has him rolling his eyes. “Don't worry, I'm not dying yet, Ginger. Who would torture you if I do?”
I get a better look at him from this position, and what I see guts me. Beads of sweat have scattered across his forehead, right over his nasty shiner. He's managed to shift his nose back into place, but now there's a faint bruise over it.
Watching him like this—joking and still trying to make light of the situation has all the expletives I had prepared to lay on him seem pointless.
The smirk lining his mouth fades as his gaze fixes on me, and I swear the air feels tighter than it did a second ago. Our heads meet. Two intangible forces of gravity.
He's close. Close enough to taste the intoxication on his lips.
What are you doing, Ginny?
“You stink,” I say suddenly.
He blinks. “Guess I deserve that one.”
“No, really. You stink. What have you been doing, lying in bed all day?”
“I'm not sure you've noticed, Ginger, but I can hardly move my limbs.”
“Right, use that excuse, because Bayview High’s Football Captain would completely break down over one losing fight.”
His lips twitch. “Touché.”
He throws off the comforter, swinging his legs over the side. I stand and move out of his way, watching him disappear behind the closet doors.
A royal blue sweatshirt lands on his bed before he dives in again, browsing through hangered rows of clothes.
This is awkward. And you know what's going to be worse? Being here when he probably leaves the bathroom naked.
“Um… I'm gonna go downstairs real quick.” I say.
He pops his head out. “Why? Scared my stink will rub off on you?”
“Haha. Very funny. Do you mind telling me where the kitchen is?”
“Ground floor. Second pathway to your left. You can't miss it.”
I leave him to his business and descend the steps, careful not to get lost. Following his direction, I soon wind up at the kitchen hall, every inch of it sleek, shining, and modern themed.
Pauline is in here, mid bake. A dusting of flour dots her nose. She gasps on seeing me.
“Why, miss, you shouldn't be here,” she says. “Or did something else happen to master Jayden?”
“That's…actually what I wish to speak to you about, Pauline.”
She stops mixing, brows pulling together in worry. “Has his condition worsened?”
“No. No it's not that. I simply want to help treat his wounds today, and I was wondering if you perhaps knew where the materials were kept.”
“Oh, that's very generous of you,” she smiles. “Say no more, miss.”
She moves across the room, reaching for the first aid compartment. The cupboard creaks, metals rattling. Her fingers find what they're looking for, and she walks back to me.
“Ginger,” I say, collecting it from her, “you can call me Ginger.”
“Noted… Ginger.”
I double back the way I come, and by the time I'm shutting the door after myself, Jayden's emerging from the bathroom, towelling his hair.
He is wearing a sweatsuit thankfully. The blue one from earlier. It hugs his frame like a comfy second skin.
“You're staring,” he says.
My face flushes. “Sorry.”
“Not a problem. I enjoy the attention.”
“Sure you do.”
I cross the room, dropping onto his bed. “Sit.”
He looks like he wants to say something corny or flirty, but he keeps his mouth shut and hunkers down beside me.
I slide the First aid box open and begin laying out the items I'll need one by one, then I pluck a ball of cotton with a tweezer and apply a small amount of spirit onto it.
Jayden hisses the second it touches the scratch on his right brow. But he doesn't try to move away.
“Now, just out of pure curiosity, tell me, why did you feel the need to play such an expensive prank?” I ask him, touching the side of his face with the cotton.
“I don't know. Boredom, maybe?”
I press the cotton wool deeper.
“Ow! Okay okay, I'll talk.”
“I'm listening.”
“After the way we left things.. yesterday, I wasn't sure if I'd get the chance to see you again.”
“What do you mean? We see each other at school everyday.”
“Not like this. You wouldn't even be sitting this close to me on a normal day, and we both know it.”
I frown. “So what? You want things to suddenly shift and change between us because we shared a stupid kiss?”
He looks like I just slapped him.
“We did more than just kiss, Ginger. You can't deny there's something here.”
I don't know what intergalactic realm he's living in right now, but it's high time I snap him out of it.
My hand stills over him, gaze locking on his.
“I was in a bad headspace and you were just in the wrong place at the right time,” I say. “What happened between us was a mistake. One that should never have happened.”
He stares at me for what feels like the longest minute of my life. Then he nods once. “Gotcha.”
Nothing more is said as I finish with his face.
“All done," I say, putting the tweezers back into the box. "Now I need to examine your torso. Take off your shirt.”