Page 59 of What If It Was Us
“Of course I did.” I barely got the words out.
Jackson nodded, like he was processing this information. He reached in his back pocket and pressed something into my hand before turning to leave.
I waited until he pulled out of the driveway to look at what he put in my hands.
It was the photo from the restaurant—the picture from graduation that I had ripped in half on the Fourth of July and thrown away. There was a piece of tape holding it together. I choked on a sob, the tears free-falling now.
I went back to my room and put on the dirty polo from Delvecchios’ and Jackson’s old boxers. I laid down in my old bed and cried myself to sleep, holding the picture against my heart.
Chapter 27
BEFORE
February, Ten Years Ago
By the time my eighteenth birthday came around, Jackson and Sophie had been together for six months. Things had been chill between Jackson and I since New Year’s, and we both acted like the conversation in Julie’s room never happened. I mostly avoided him and Sophie when we got back to school after winter break, because I knew the girl hated me even more than she used to.
My mom hadn’t so much as called me to wish me a happy birthday, and Peter . . . well, I honestly don’t think he even remembered it was my birthday.
I woke up to see a voice mail from Julie, left at three am. She was drunkenly singing Happy Birthday to me, and I realized it must’ve been sent at midnight in California time. She mailed me a new pair of high-top Converse for my birthday; pristine and white, with red and blue stripes around the soles. I still liked my ratty black pair from my sixteenth birthday better.
After school I met Jackson at his truck in the parking lot, and he took me to the only place I requested we go for my birthday.
“You sure this is all you want for your birthday?” Jackson asked when we stepped into the shop.
“Yes, all I want is my nose pierced.”
We looked through the cases, picking out a silver hoop and signing papers before I hopped up in the chair. My eyes watered as the needle went through my nose, but I loved how I looked after. I was officially an adult. It was so freeing to be able to make a decision like this for myself now.
“I can’t believe you’ll get a piercing, but you won’t get a tattoo,” Jackson said.
I shrugged. “Piercings are a fast process. Tattoos are slower. Plus, you can take out a piercing—you can’t take off a tattoo.”
Jackson pondered this for a moment, then said, “You know what? I want one now, too.”
“Of course you do, copycat.” I stuck my tongue out at him.
“Maybe I just want to match with you,” he said with a bat of his eyelashes.
We ended up switching chairs, and the piercer started sterilizing another silver hoop for Jackson.
“What side should I get it done on?” Jackson asked as he looked back and forth at himself in a handheld mirror.
“You should get the left side, same as your girlfriend; that way they won’t get snagged when you kiss,” the piercer said. I almost choked on my spit.
“Oh, we’re just—” I started to say before Jackson gave me a look that said,Play along with it.I hated him, but it also made my stomach flip that the piercer thought he was my boyfriend.
“That’s a great idea. Left side it is,” Jackson said with a giant smile. “Any other areas you suggest piercings?”
The piercer looked at me. “You know all jewelry is ten dollars off for your birthday. You could get your nipples done, too.”
My hands flew over my chest as my face turned beet red. Jackson was hollering; he had tears in his eyes from how hard he was laughing.
“Babe, you shoulddefinitelyget those done,” Jackson said devilishly. I hated how the word “babe” coming from his mouth made my heart race.
“We’re through,” I said, deadpan, as I stood up from the bench. “I hope you cry when he pierces your nose.”
I walked out the room to peer into the different glass cases while Jackson got his nose done. I didn’t hear so much as a peep from him.
