Jackson: I think you’re right.
We talk a little more about his travels. Where he’s going next. When he’s coming home. He says record executives are still chasing after him, trying to get him to sign deals, which has been going on for a while, ever since he started performing regularly at one of the local venues in Fresno. But he’s not ready to tie himself down with anything. He claims he’s not sure if this is what he really wants.
Me: You’re going to have to make a choice sometime.
Jackson: I’ll keep up the dual life as long as I can. I’m only nineteen. I want to go party with my friends too, you know? This is starting to feel like a grind. Like a job.
Me: Are you performing at Strummers when you come back home?
Jackson: Yeah. I have a performance lined up for July 31st. Didn’t I tell you? Though I’m coming home on the 27th so I can have a little time to relax. I can’t wait.
My heart cracks wide open. He’ll be home in less than three weeks. I can’t wait to see him.
Me: It’ll be nice to have you back.
Jackson: Can’t wait to see you.
He sends me a heart emoji.
Don’t read too much into that. Don’t do it. Don’t.
Me: I’m sure you have plenty of female company.
Jackson: They’re not you though.
He doesn’t deny he’s with other girls, which I’m sure he is. Can’t focus on that though. That’s a downward spiral I don’t want to experience right now.
Me: I’m glad we’re friends.
There. What can he say to that? We are friends. And that’s all we’re gonna be. That’s all he’ll allow.
He doesn’t respond and I keep scrolling TikTok, my eyelids growing heavier and heavier. I’m tired. It’s already past two. I need to go to sleep. I work at eleven tomorrow, so I won’t get to sleep in as much as I usually do when I close.
Jackson: Sometimes I wonder why we’re not more than that, E. Why are you always so good to me? I don’t deserve you.
I stare at what he wrote, reading it again and again. He’s right. He doesn’t deserve me. And he probably doesn’t mean it when he says he wonders why we’re not more than that. He’s said that type of thing to me before, when we were younger and he’d flirt with me, always getting my hopes up.
I’m trying to not let that happen anymore.
Me: Because we both know it would never work.
Jackson: Right. I’d mess it up.
Me: You would. Oh, and you’re right.
Jackson: What about?
I contemplate telling him the truth. Will he get angry? Do I care if he does? For once, I should stand up for myself. Call him out for his crap. He needs to hear it.
He needs to hear me.
Me: You don’t deserve me.
Me: You never really have.
Two
Ellie
One month later
I’m at the front of the growing crowd, my gaze on the darkened stage directly in front of me and nowhere else. The air is thick with anticipation, and it settles just beneath my skin, making it buzz. I can’t help but smile at people I don’t really know, considering we’re all here for the same thing. They smile at me in return, nodding their heads to the faint music playing in the background. Everyone else is buzzing too. We can feel it.
Feel him.
I arrived at Strummers early, saving a spot near the front of the stage for our group of friends. A group that has completely embraced me and made me feel a part of them, even if the boy I want to embrace me the most is totally blind to my loyalty. Not that he’s been around to see it lately, considering he’s been on tour for the last two months.
If my friends were here, they’d all tell me he was an idiot for not seeing me for what I really am. They’d be on my side, though they adore him just as much as they like me. Maybe even more so.
But no one adores him as much as me. I’m his biggest fan. None of these girls in this room can say they’ve personally spoken to him. They’ve held him in their arms. They’ve kissed him.
Well, it was a kiss on the cheek but damn it, I’m counting it.
A sigh leaves me and my butt buzzes. I reach for my phone, pulling it out of my pocket to see I have a text from Ava.
We’re coming inside right now! Where are you?
I text her a response.
At the very front of the stage, more on the right side. Good luck fighting the crowd to get to me.
Ava: We have Caleb with us. He’ll bully his way through the pack of girls.
I shove my phone back in my pocket, glancing over my shoulder to see if I can spot my friends. But it’s no use. I’m surrounded by nothing but girls.
Overly excited, mostly teenaged girls who are wearing their most revealing clothes, hoping to catch Jackson’s eye when he comes on stage.
Good luck. He definitely doesn’t like them underage. I know that for a fact.
I hear a loud male voice that I recognize—Caleb’s—and the whiny protests of about a bazillion teenage girls who are pissed he’s shoving past them. He doesn’t care. Anything to make a path for his friends. When I feel hands settle on my waist, I glance over my shoulder to see it’s Ava standing there, and she wraps me up in a hug.
“We made it!” she squeals near my ear.
“Thank God,” I say, squeezing her in return before she shifts away. I’m surrounded by everyone who’s a part of our group. The boys. The girls. They’re all here tonight, in support of our beloved Jackson Rivers.
AKA that ‘soulful motherfucker’—that’s what Eli always calls him.
Eli is Jackson’s best friend, and he’s missed Jackson so much while he’s been on tour. He even went to Portland and hung out with him for a couple of days. Ava went too. I was so jealous, but I had to stay home to work. I’ve worked all summer, trying to save my money for college this fall. I got a few scholarships and community awards, but that won’t cover everything.
Compared to everyone else in our group, I’m a broke ass joke. Well, Diego doesn’t come from money either, but he has Jocelyn and her dad is a lawyer so they do pretty well.
Me? I’m scrambling for everything I’ve got. It was a big deal that I took today off, but this performance is special.
I want to be here, in support of Jackson. After not seeing his face for the last couple of months, I miss it.
Terribly.
“Ellie. Baby.” Caleb wraps me up in his arms and squeezes me, lifting me up so my feet are dangling off the floor before he sets me back down. “You nabbed us the best spot in the entire place.”
“You know it,” I say, my cheeks turning pink at the flirtatious way he talks to me. Looks at me. I’m not interested in Caleb. He’s naughty. There are no other words to describe him. He was a player in high school and he’s remained much the same in college.
I’ve remained much the same so far too. I’m the girl all the guys view as just a friend. The one they can always count on, but never the one they’re interested in.
“Leave her alone,” Ava says, slapping Caleb on the arm. “It feels like I haven’t seen you in forever.”
I’ve been working a lot, that’s why. And okay, I’ve been avoiding her a little bit too, because though I don’t blame her, and I know she has to do what’s right for her, I’m sad.