Page 24 of Falling Into You

“Here, let us help.”

Together he, Cody, and Everett swept the rest of the bras off the truck—there weren’t many left—leaving the ribbons that were tied to the bumper and the words that he was going to have to scrub off. He knew everyone would notice the second he slammed the door—it needed to be slammed to stay closed—and he started to sweat all over again as soon as he was behind the wheel. He turned the key in the ignition, and Rosie’s engine made a coughing, wheezing sound.

“Wait! Come back, Cheer Boy! Don’t leave us!” Tucker and Kai shouted.

“Come on, Rosie,” Jacob said through his teeth. He turned the key harder, as if that was going to help the situation. “Come on, girl.”

Miraculously, the engine turned over and Rosie roared to life. Jacob let out a breath and popped her into reverse, pulling quickly out of the spot. As he motored away, Jacob glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Rory and her friends storming over to Tucker and the rest. Before he turned the corner out of the parking lot, Rory was lacing into Tucker, gesturing with a bra in her fist. For the first time that day, Jacob laughed a real laugh. Who would have thought there’d come a day when Rory would have his back?

He really hoped none of those bras had been hers.

On Saturday morning, the morning of his first official football game as a cheerleader, Jacob awoke to the sound of his youngest sister screaming. He flung himself out of bed and ran to her bedroom, met there by Willow and Ford, who were both equally out of breath. Chad was still comatose in the second bed in Jacob’s room. The kid could sleep through anything. Two years ago there had been a fire across the street, and not even the sounds of sirens, shouting firefighters, and the engines of six huge fire trucks had roused him.

“What is it, Linnie? What happened?” Ford demanded, slipping into her room as their parents arrived.

Ford was an asshole ninety-nine percent of the time, but never when it came to their youngest sibling. She stood nextto her bed, her little face all blotchy, practically hyperventilating. Blond curls stuck out in all directions around her head.

“There was a spider on my pillow!” she cried, her lisp more prominent in her heightened state of fear.

“Okay, come here.” Ford went in to pick her up on one hip and used his free hand to look under her pillow and sheets. Willow joined in the search—she loved bugs and knew that if Ford found it, he’d kill it, so she probably hoped to find it first. Jacob would have helped as well, but Lindsay’s room was an actual converted closet and couldn’t fit more than the number of people already inside.

“If you kids have this under control, I’m gonna go make pancakes,” Jacob’s dad said from the hall, scratching at the back of his head. His mom followed him downstairs.

Jacob retreated to his room and grabbed his phone, his heart still pounding from being woken up in such a startling manner. Chad snorted a snore and rolled over.

Jacob had a bunch of texts from last night. He assumed it would be the team complaining about the horrendous loss to Fulsom and blaming him for it. After what Cody had said to him in the parking lot about showing his dedication, Jacob had attended the away game, driving himself there and sliding into the front row of the stands next to Cody. He’d noticed Coach noting his arrival and clocking that he wore his varsity jacket, but the man hadn’t looked back at him once after that. Probably because the five-nothing drubbingthe team had taken was far too distracting.

He’d tried not to blame himself afterward. After all, it wasn’t his fault Coach Fitz had gone completely over the edge and thrown him off the team. But then again... maybe it was?

The texts were not about the big loss, however. Apparently, his friends had been up until one in the morning playingMadden, and the smack talk was out of control. As he was laughing over a pretty good takedown of Tucker’s defense skills, a new text popped up. It was from Rory.

His breath caught and he tapped it open.

Rory:

MEET ME AT THE FARMERS’ MARKET AT 8:30.

He glanced at the time—8:02.

He texted back:

Jacob:

?

Rory:

WEAR COMFORTABLE CLOTHES.

Jacob:

???

Rory:

JUST TRUST ME.

Jacob snorted, imagining what she would say to him if he told her the same thing. Willow raced past his room with her hands cupped together, obviously toting the offending arachnid.