Chasing Ivy (Oak Hill 1)

Sure, I was popular, but that’s not what Ivy deserved. She deserved someone with dreams like hers, someone who would apply himself in the future and take care of her. Someone who hadn’t slept with most of the school because he was simply bored.

I couldn’t have Ivy that way, no matter how badly I wanted her. Instead, I would stay her best friend and fuck up any guy who hurt her.

That’s what I was to Ivy. Her best friend, her protector. I loved her, I did. More than anything, but because I loved her, that also made me realize that I couldn’t have her. I just… wasn’t ready to cross that bridge. Maybe in the future. Maybe if I ever got myself together and actually tried to be the guy she deserved, but right now… no.

I don’t think I’m ready.

Shit, maybe I am.

Max’s words echoed in my head from earlier in the background of replaying the almost-kiss with Ivy. It was like an old VCR that just kept rewinding and then playing over and over again. Was I ready to tell her? Was I ready to risk it all? The near-kiss was like a hand squeezing my throat; I couldn’t get away from it. It was consuming me.

Jessica’s hand crept up higher along my jeans, causing me to cease fire on the argument over Ivy. “If you want, we can just go to back to my house. My parents aren’t due back home for a few hours.” Her voice sounded more like a purr. A sexy purr, but it just wasn’t workin’ tonight.

“Nah,” I said, sliding her hand off my leg. “Let’s just go in. People are expecting me.”

People = Ivy.

She popped out her bottom lip and I almost laughed. She resembled a five-year-old, which wasn’t the least bit attractive.

You know who was attractive when she stuck out her bottom lip? Ivy.

I quickly pushed open the driver’s side door and jumped out, slamming it hard. It slammed so hard that Jessica actually yelped.

“Jeez, Dawson.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled, still irritated with myself.

As soon as we made it around the curve of the concrete driveway, I spotted the giant, blazing bonfire in the middle of the yard. Most of the guys were standing around it, wearing their letterman jackets with red cups in hand.

Jessica spotted some of her friends and whispered that she’d be right back. I nodded but I wasn’t really paying attention. I was looking for someone else.

Someone who I’d give my full attention to.

I found her within half a second. Her brown curls landing halfway down her back. She looked so different than any other girl at the party, with her Hollister jeans and dark purple hoodie. That was one of the things I loved about Ivy. She never dressed to impress. She just dressed normal, and it worked for her.

She was effortlessly beautiful.

Which was absolutely alluring. I was almost tempted to just grab her arm and pull her back into my Camaro and tell her that if she gave me a couple years, I could change and be the guy that she deserved, that I just needed to figure my shit out…but then my eyes locked onto Andy, standing only a few feet away from her. His head was inclined to the left, peering down at her with a smile on his face. My blood ran cold.

I wanted to knock the stupid fucking smile right off his face because it was damn near torture for me to see him looking at her like that. As if she walked on water. I was the only one who could look at her like that, just me. No one else.

I let out a huge sigh and walked over the freshly-cut grass to Max and Clay.

“What up, bro. Where’s Jessica?”

I shrugged, not answering and not really giving a shit.

I was already in a piss-poor mood after dropping off Ivy at Becca’s. We’d completely acted as if the two of us almost kissing wasn’t the least bit significant. As if it was this huge secret, which kind of stung. Did she realize that she didn’t want to kiss me? Or was she concerned with the same thing I was – best friends don’t kiss - and if we did, we could say good-fucking-bye to our comfort zone.

My piss-poor mood cranked up another notch when I got home. I walked in on my older brother punching a hole through the living room wall. Small pieces of dry-wall clattered to the floor, dust flying around the room. My mom was screaming with her high-pitched voice at him to “get his shit together,” and then he stormed off to his room, slamming the door shut so hard the frames on the walls rattled.

My brother, Emmett, was only a year older than me, meaning he was a senior and should be at the same school as me, except he attends a military school. It was all very hush-hush in our family, telling neighbors and friends that he went to military school because he got accepted on some scholarship and wanted to join the military right out of high school. That wasn’t true. My mom, dad, and I… we knew that Emmett was really in the mi

litary school because he was a rebel. He enjoyed breaking the rules. Even more so than me.

He’d been arrested, he’d been on probation, and he’d been in more fights than I could even count. Emmett was the epitome of a hothead and now that he was on spring break, back in town for a few days, things were right back to how they were before he left. Bad.

I was almost certain that it was because at military school, they didn’t allow the students even an ounce of freedom. He was caged up like a fucking lion at the local zoo. I felt bad for him, but not bad enough to check on him before I picked up Jess.