“No.”
“Okay, then. Be here at five. Oh, and pick up Grandma while you’re at it.”
“Me?” Misty blinks. “Why do I have to pick her up?”
“You’re the one with the better car.”
“Yeah, but I live all the way across town. It only makes sense if Jo picks her up. Besides, Jo’s her favorite.”
“I’ll do it,” I say, because I don’t mind picking up my grandmother and I really am her favorite.
“She’s going to hate that damn Celica,” Uncle Adrian says.
“Well, tough luck. I hate the damn Celica and I drive it every day.”
“Fair enough. I’ll call her and let her know to be ready by four-thirty.” He walks back into the kitchen.
“I can’t believe this. Mitch will probably be here,” Misty says.
“Probably, but who cares?” I shrug a shoulder. “You can’t avoid him forever.”
“Right.”
When I walk into the house, I hear a woman’s laughter, which is weird since Jagger’s car isn’t even parked outside. Maybe he parked down the block and I didn’t see it? As I set my keys down beside the door and slip off my sneakers, I hear a door open and the woman’s laughter gets louder, then stops completely as I glance up and meet her gaze. It’s the one from our math class. The one from the other night. I feel my cheeks burn as I glance away just as Jagger walks out of the room, pulling on a T-shirt.
“You’re the roommate,” she says, smiling as we walk by each other. “I think I’ve seen you on campus.”
“Finite Math,” I say.
“Oh. Right. I’m Jessa.” She smiles giving a little wave.
“Josephine.”
“Josephine,” she repeats, taking me in slowly. “I like that. It suits you.”
“Okay. Thanks. It was nice to meet you.” I wave at her and walk toward my bedroom, completely ignoring Jagger who’s standing there as well. For some reason, I can’t even look at him right now.
As I open my bedroom, I glance over my shoulder to his open bedroom and see the rumpled and messy bedsheets. There’s a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach as I open my door and shut it behind me. I give myself a moment, leaning against the door and breathing in and out a few times. I don’t even like Jagger like that, so why is it that every time I see him with a woman I feel like I’m being punched in the gut? After a few seconds, I push off the door, sit on the bed, and pull up my math homework, which I find surprisingly easy. When I finish, I pick up my phone and scroll social media. I’ve been lurking for months. Since the accident. Since I got kicked off the volleyball team and my parents acted like disowning me might actually be a better solution to deal with or not deal with the outcome of the embarrassment I caused. I almost hit like on Kelsey’s picture, but decide not to. My teammates, the girls who always said they had my back, abandoned me after the accident. Maybe Coach told them to distance themselves. Maybe they decided to do it on their own. Still, it hurts. I have my sister and I love her to pieces, but I miss my friends. Just as I’m setting my phone down, it vibrates.
Misty: What do I wear? All black?
Me: I guess. He didn’t say otherwise.
Misty: I hate this. I don’t want to go.
Me: If you don’t go, you’ll get in trouble.
Misty: I’m almost 21, wtf.
Me: I’m 22, yet here I am . . .
Misty: ugh. Whatever. See you later.
I set my phone down for the last time and start getting ready for tonight’s event, which I am now dreading as much as my sister.
Chapter Sixteen
Jo
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I look at Jagger, who’s in the kitchen eating a bowl of Fruity Pebbles. “Why do you always think something is wrong with me?”
“Because you always have a look on your face that says something is wrong with you.”
“That’s just my face.” I roll my eyes. “I’m fine.”
He eyes me up and down. “You showered and changed into the same outfit?”
“This is a different outfit, but thanks for pointing out that no one will notice that I tried to look presentable.”
He chuckles. “I didn’t say you didn’t look presentable.”
“Right.” I open the fridge and grab a water bottle and a Greek yogurt. “We’re running low on supplies already, which is baffling.”
“Baffling?” His eyes dance with amusement. “You’ve obviously never lived with a guy.”
“That or maybe your friends who keep coming over should start pitching in to our grocery fund.”
“Or I can just pay for the groceries.” He shrugs a shoulder.
“Right. I forget. Your mom probably sends you money every week.”
“My mom?” He laughs loudly. “Hell no. I have scholarship money.”
“To pay for school.” I stop opening my yogurt and look up at him. “I thought you declined the sports scholarship and decided to give that money to someone else who needed it? That’s what Dad said. Did you get two scholarships?”