“The birthday boy gets.” He flashes me a mischievous grin.
“This is tame compared to what I imagined. A movie marathon is the last thing I expected of you,” I whisper to Jax as I eye his parents, cuddled together a few seats away. A large screen hangs in front of us to create a movie theater ambiance.
“And what did you expect? Me throwing some rager at my parents’ house?” Jax grabs a fistful of popcorn from the bowl in my lap. The movie’s opening credits disappear, and my heart hammers in my chest as The Hunger Games begins.
Nausea hits me out of nowhere. I clutch onto the bowl of popcorn with sweaty palms, desperately trying to keep calm.
The first scene plays, and it reminds me of my childhood—of my parents and everything I’ve lost. I place the
popcorn in the seat next to me and rush to exit the home movie theater.
Hot tears trickle down my face as I walk through the hall. The tattoo on my finger burns, mocking me, calling me out on my bullshit of wanting to be brave. I curse the tears and wipe them away with the sleeve of my sweater.
“Elena, stop,” Jax calls out.
I keep walking, ignoring him.
“Elena.” His voice sounds closer.
I turn a corner, desperate for some distance while also craving his comfort. Great, even my thoughts are a jumbled mess.
Jax’s hand wraps around my arm and turns me around. “What’s wrong? I thought you would like The Hunger Games.” He grimaces.
I avoid his gaze. “No.”
“Then why get a tattoo of it? I didn’t mean to upset you, I swear. I thought you’d be happy.”
It takes everything in me to ignore his stare. “I got the tattoo for my dad.”
“Shit. I keep fucking up.”
I shake my head trying to force the tears away. “No. It’s not your fault. You couldn’t know. The book—” I let out a ragged breath. “The book I was reading the night they were killed…”
“Was The Hunger Games. Fuck.” He finishes for me. His hand wraps around the back of my neck, forcing me to look up at him. “We can choose something else. I don’t give a shit what movie, as long as you’re okay with it.”
I stare at him. His sincerity mends the tattered remains of my heart. He chose something on his birthday thinking it would make me happy. That kind of selflessness allows for a new sense of warmth to replace the cold inside of me.
His presence gives me courage to do something stupid yet brave. To banish some of the last bad memories plaguing me.
“I think I want to watch it.”
Jax’s thumb presses against my thrumming pulse, awareness flooding my body. “Even if it scares you?”
“Especially because it scares me.” I lift my chin.
“I’ll be there for you. You have me.”
I believe his every word. We walk back to the movie room hand in hand. Someone presses play, and the movie starts up again. Jax doesn’t let go of my hand the entire time. He softly brushes over my new tattoo as I silently sob to myself at the part I remember reading on the worst night of my life. His actions tell me everything words can’t.
I’m here for you. I’ll fight the memories with you. We’ll beat this together.
And I can’t prevent falling a bit more for him that night.
“I can’t believe I get to hang out in the pit on a race day. Holy fucking shit!” Caleb bounces up and down.
“Hey, language. There are kids visiting.” I’m tempted to smack him with the side of my clipboard.
“But come on, this is the coolest thing ever. Look at Jax in his race gear. Hold up.” Caleb pulls out his cellphone and snaps a photo of Jax.