Nineteen

Winnie

Jasper’s smile gives me out-of-control butterflies again. I didn’t mean to have a weak moment and fall apart on his lap. But I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel good to let it out.

Some days, I spend so much time concentrating on keeping the tears inside, my eyes twitch. Between not getting much sleep and constantly worrying, my heart never stops pounding in my chest. Even when I finally close my eyes and let sleep take me away, it races. Tonight, that didn’t happen. When Jasper held me, I wasn’t scared of him. I wasn’t even a little bit nervous.

Holding the tears inside became impossible, like I had no control over my own emotions. I blinked once, and then the second time, they fell all on their own. It was a celebration of sorts. Some kind of epic declaration that maybe I wasn’t completely broken down and worn out.

There’s still a little bit of my soul that bleeds for acceptance. Not everyone in my life is out to get me.

Jasper’s full of goodness. He’s shown me that he has my back. I think he might even be my friend—like an actual friend who doesn’t just want me around for his own pleasure. Other than holding my hand, Jasper’s never made a move. He’s never pressured me or made suggestive comments that make my skin crawl.

In the back of my mind, I wait for the change. That little spark that ignites in his eyes and alters his behavior. Sometimes, I don’t see it coming until it’s too late. With Jasper, I’m not sure I’d see it coming at all because anger and disdain don’t seem like qualities he possesses. I’ve been wrong before though. And I’ve regretted every trusting bone in my body for letting my guard down.

How long will Jasper be on my side?

What’s going to happen when he gets sick of watching me fall apart?

I don’t have answers to those questions; only he knows the truth of his intentions, and for now, I’m okay with that. I’ve told myself a million times not to get attached. I think I already am.

He’s been watching me like a hawk since we clocked in, worried that I’ll have another breakdown or that I’m too banged up to be working all night. In an ideal world, I would have taken the night off and rested in bed with a movie and popcorn.

I’d do anything for some movie popcorn right now. The kind that’s drenched in butter and makes your lips all slippery. My stomach growls as I just think about crunching the kernels between my teeth.

My head’s pounding, and I’m so hungry, I’m pretty sure my stomach’s turning inside out. I’ve been drinking enough water to keep it filled up, but water only does so much. Water isn’t food. It’s just a decoy that my body’s going to get sick of if I don’t find an actual meal soon.

I’ve come close to passing out before, so I know time isn’t on my side right now. The shakiness, light-headedness, and tiredness happen in rapid succession. Once the shakes start, the rest usually follow.

Trying to ignore my body is never a good idea. Because pretending I’m not desperate for food usually ends up with me passed out on the floor. Eventually, I wake up wherever I ran out of energy. That can’t happen at The Whip, especially not in front of Jasper.

There’s a box of soup crackers on the counter next to the walk-in refrigerator. I’ve thought about grabbing them and going inside to eat as many as I can stuff in my mouth in a minute or two, but Jasper won’t stop staring at me. If I go in there, he’ll follow me. And, if he sees me munching on crackers, he’ll know how hungry I am. Then, he’ll buy me another burger and fries that I can’t afford. Owing him more money won’t help me get any of my own any faster.

Before I can come up with another plan, my body folds in half. As I fall to the floor onto my hands and knees, I stare at Jasper. His mouth opens, and if I could hear, I’m pretty sure he’d be saying my name.

The spatula in his hand falls from his fingertips. In slow motion, the metal clatters against the tiled floor. I don’t hear that either. By the time it stops moving, my eyelashes are fluttering closed, and the room is closing in around me.

Once I’m flat on my back, Jasper’s on top of me, his mouth moving with questions I can’t give him answers to. He’s pleading with me to respond, but the words won’t come. There aren’t any instructions to give him. Passing out is inevitable. There’s no stopping what’s already happening.

Barely able to part my lips, I mutter something close to, “Sugar.”

He disappears, and when he comes back, he’s so blurry, his mouth blends with his nose, and his eyes look like three dancing orbs instead of two.

“Open your mouth,” he says.

I can finally hear him, but I can’t get my lips open. He doesn’t wait and shoves a tube of icing into my mouth. It tastes as cheap as it looks, but I pretend it’s dessert in a fancy restaurant.

“Swallow, Winnie. Close your mouth, and swallow.”

I listen to Jasper, thankful that I’m still awake enough to follow his directions. If I were anyplace else, I would have closed my eyes and let God take me wherever he wanted. But Jasper’s someone to stay awake for, and I’m happy because, if I pass out completely, he’ll insist on taking me to the hospital. He might even call 911, and ambulances are expensive. I should know.

When we first moved to the trailer park, I thought Tess had overdosed, and I called for help. It took me an entire summer of babysitting to pay the bill. There wasn’t a single dime left over for me, and Tess never let me forget it. You’d think she’d have been glad I tried to save her life. She had been disappointed I wasted her time and screwed up her buzz.

Ace kneels next to me with another tube of icing and a handful of little white packets of sugar. “How is she?” he asks Jasper like I’m invisible.

“She was sweating and shivering at the same time,” Jasper tells him. “She’s not as pale though.”

“Make her some real food!” Ace yells to the rest of the kitchen staff who have stopped working to stare at the new girl lying on the floor.

“When’s the last time you ate, Winnie?” Ace asks.

“Sit up,” I mumble.

My hands are still shaky, but Jasper grabs them and helps me into a seated position on the floor. If Jasper hadn’t gotten the sugar so quickly, I’m positive I’d be out cold.

I’m ashamed that I have to tell him, “The little bit of burger I had with you yesterday.”

He pushes a piece of hair away from my face, and I close my eyes when his knuckle brushes against the cuts. I’m so scared the peacefulness will disappear and that Jasper’s anger will turn him into everyone I hate.

But, while he looks disappointed, maybe even a little sorry that he hasn’t fed me more, he says, “What happened to your breakfast this morning?”

It kills me to tell him, “Jax ate my food.”

Nobody’s made me breakfast since Dad died. Even when he was alive, I was old enough to fend for myself. I relied on the cheapest box of cereal to get by and could only dream about food like the muffin and banana Jasper gave me this morning. As I strolled the aisles of the grocery store, I imagined the sweetness of the strawberries and the little seeds that would get stuck in my teeth. After that, I’d stop at the bakery and let my mouth water at the chocolate cake and trays of doughnuts stacked high. Doughnuts were cheap, but they didn’t last long. I couldn’t afford to buy things that had to be eaten quickly. I needed food that would last a long time and wouldn’t get moldy or expire too fast.

A string of curse words flies from Jasper’s mouth. He shakes his head and stares at his brother. “Why wouldn’t she tell me she was hungry?” he asks Ace. “How can I help her if I don’t know she’s starving?”

Ace grips Jasper’s shoulder and tells him, “Calm down.”

“Don’t be mad at me,” I whisper. “Jax took the food from my room while Tess was fighting with me. I wouldn’t have let him have it.”

“I’m not mad at you about the food, Winnie,” Jasper says through clenched teeth. “I’m mad that I didn’t know. I’m pissed that I couldn’t tell how badly you needed to eat.” He drops his head in his hands and stops talking.

Mad.

Pissed.

How can he not be mad yet still be pissed? Isn’t that the same thing?

“My blood sugar drops sometimes,” I tell him even if he won’t look at me.

“So, you’ve passed out before?” Ace asks.

“Yes.”

Hunger pains are the worst kind of pain, even worse than what the razor does to my thigh. At least the cuts form scabs and eventually heal. But being hungry, there’s no cure for that besides eating. And, if you can’t get any food, then you’ll never be full enough to make the aching stop.

The head cook hands Ace a plate of French fries and a burger—the same meal Jasper made me yesterday. There was a ton on the plate yesterday, and there’s even more now. Stuffing myself won’t make me feel any better. I’ve learned it’s better to eat the same amount regardless of how hungry I am. If I eat too much at once, I’ll throw it up, and then I’ll be right back where I started.

Ace nudges Jasper and then hands him the plate. “Go sit with Winnie while she eats.”

“But I’m clocked in,” I tell him.

He shrugs his shoulders and says, “I don’t care. You’re eating on the clock.” Then, he points toward the break room, ending the conversation.

Jasper helps me off the floor and wraps an arm around my shoulders. With the plate in his other hand, he guides me to the table in the break room and sits me down. The burger gets pushed in front of me, and suddenly, I feel like we’re about to argue. His brows are still pinched together, giving him deep enough worry lines to channel an entire year’s worth of anger.

“Stop,” I whisper. “I can’t eat with you upset.”

He brushes his hand over his face and looks as tired as I feel inside. “I’m not mad at you. I’m mad that I can’t change your life. That probably sounds stupid, but, Winnie, I swear, I want to pack up all your stuff and get you out of that house. You can’t live there anymore. If not for yourself, you have to move for me.”

Heavy. That’s the only way to describe what Jasper’s asking of me. Moving isn’t as easy as packing my things and getting out of the trailer. There’s so much more involved that he doesn’t understand. What happens when the state comes to check up on Tess, and she has no idea where I am? She’ll get in trouble, and whoever has me will be in trouble, too. That’s not fair to him or his mom or anyone else.

Ace pops his head in the break room and says, “Make sure she gets home okay.”

“Home? I have to finish my shift.”

“You’re going home, Winnie. I’ll pay you a full night’s wage. And please, if you ever come in here and haven’t eaten, I want you to order whatever you want. It’s always on the house, okay?”

I’m in no condition to argue, but being too poor to afford the bare necessities isn’t like me. I’ve never completely run out of food before. Sure, there’s been a time or two when I’ve gotten so low, I’ve had to ration portions, but there’s always been a nibble here and there to keep me going. I did pass out a couple of times, but I was okay. Now, I realize how stupid I was for thinking I had everything under control.

If I plan on going on the road with Trey after graduation, I need to do a better job, or he’ll never let me go with him. I’ll have to tell him about the money Jax and Tess stole—his money. Because, if he gets wind of it from anyone other than me, I’ll be in trouble. He’s only ever expected one thing out of me, and that’s the truth. I want to keep that promise more than I want to devour this burger in front of me. That’s how important my word is. Because, if I don’t have my word, then I’m worthless, a complete failure of a human being.

“Winnie?” Jasper says. His voice is much softer than it was in the kitchen.

“Yeah?”

“Can you try to take a bite?” he says. This time, he sounds nervous, maybe even worried.

I’m not used to people worrying about me.

I pick the burger up with both hands, so I don’t drop it. Before I sink my teeth into the warm bun, I stare at the mound of fries falling off the side of the plate. “Eat some fries, Jasper. I’m sorry.”

When he doesn’t budge, I pick one up for him and hand it across the table. Reluctantly, he takes it from between my fingers and pops it in his mouth.

See, Jasper? That wasn’t so hard.

“You really have no food at home?” he asks.

Pity. Jasper’s done a great job of masking it. Up until now, I thought he was capable of separating our friendship from my home life. But his eyes are dull, and the smile I can’t get enough of is upside down, forming one of the most depressing frowns I’ve ever seen.

“I’m fine, Jasper. I always manage.”

“Winnie,” he says with warning, “don’t lie to me. This isn’t about managing. This is about you having what you need to survive. You have no idea what you looked like when your eyes started rolling into your head. I felt like I was staring at Tess when she was strung out.”

Jasper comparing me to Tess is the equivalent of calling me my worst nightmare. I get up from the table so fast, my chair falls over.

Marching straight to the time clock, I use the wall a couple of times to steady myself. And then I shove my time card into the machine, wait for the stamp, and then stick it back into the rack on the wall. Working here was a mistake. This job got me twisted up with Jasper, and I can’t handle him. I thought I could, but he’s not a friend. He’s more than that. And it’s time to let it go.

Our separation lasts all of three or four minutes, and then Jasper’s running out of The Whip and down the street, chasing after me. I turn around and see him getting closer. I wish I had the strength to run away from him, but all I can do is keep walking at the same pace, doing nothing to increase the gap between us.

When he catches up, he’s barely out of breath. That’s how slow my pace is. He hands me the plastic bag dangling from his finger. I don’t want it.

“Leave me alone, Jasper. I don’t need you.”

The words are a lie that almost burn up my tongue. I need everything about him. Each one of his qualities I want to keep in my pocket and pull out when I’m lonely and by myself. If I add them all up and tuck them close to my heart, maybe they’ll transfer over and give me the strength to keep the razor away from my body.

“You don’t need me, Winnie, but you want me. Try to tell yourself that you don’t. Tell me that you don’t.”

“I don’t,” I whisper.

“I can’t hear you,” he says. “Say it like you mean it. Tell me you’re done with me, and I’ll turn around and never bother you again. Is that what you want?”

“Yes.”

“Say the words!” he yells.

His voice is loud enough that I stop moving. I might even stop breathing. And then I turn toward him.

Where does he get off, yelling at me? I didn’t ask him to follow me around and wedge himself into my life. He did that all on his own, and now, he wants to blame me for walking away. That’s not fair.

I poke my finger in the center of his chest, and he barely budges.

That doesn’t stop me from unleashing my words. “I managed before you came along, Jasper. Two days with me doesn’t make you a damn hero. It makes you a fool. You think you understand my life? You think I’m some project you can fix or some disease you can cure? You can’t. Nobody can. If you have half of a brain underneath that perfectly styled hair of yours, you’ll walk away from me.”

“My hair’s perfect?” he asks.

“That’s what you took away from all that? Your hair?”

He takes a step closer, and that goofy smirk of his is back. “What do you think about my face? And what about the rest of me?”

I regret complimenting him, but the thought of him walking away from me like I asked makes me nauseous. I’m glad he ignored the important parts of what I had to say and focused on something as stupid as his looks. Because I don’t want Jasper to leave me. Not today and not tomorrow either.

Our friendship began forty-eight hours ago. We’re off to a shaky start, yet, other than Trey, he’s the most genuine part of my life. A year from now, we could hate each other, and I’d still look back on these two days and smile. After all I’ve been through, he’s special enough that I can forget about Tess and Jax and focus on him. For once, I have something worth fighting for, and that thing is Jasper.

“I’m sorry, Jasper.”

He tucks a finger into the waistband of my shorts—nothing sexual—and he just tugs until I’m in his arms, wrapped up in a hug. And then he rests his chin on the top of my head and says, “You’re not Tess. You’re nothing like her. That’s not what I meant.”

“It doesn’t matter. If I’m Tess, then you’re Jax.”

Jasper laughs, and I bounce against his chest. “Thanks, Winnie. You’re so sweet.”

In the span of today, I’ve been frustrated, humiliated, and nearly taken to the hospital. I’d like to climb into a nice warm bed and pretend the day never happened, but then I wouldn’t be standing here, breathing in Jasper’s cologne.

“So, we’re okay again?” I ask him.

“I’m not going anywhere. Unless you can’t stand the sight of me, then I’d say we’re fine.”

I think about it and decide that’s not good enough. “Fine sounds mediocre. We’re more than that.”

“Then, be my girlfriend,” he whispers against my cheek. “Pretend the meal in this bag is champagne and caviar and that I’m taking my queen to our castle to eat it. How does that sound?”

My fairy tale.

Jasper grabs my face and draws his brows together. “You’re getting pale again, Winnie. We need to get home.”

He thinks I’m about to pass out. But he has no idea he just said the most perfect, romantic, idealistic words he could have muttered. My dream is to be the queen of my empire. Now, Jasper’s promising me all those things, and I glance at the sky, wondering if Dad sent Jasper to help take care of me. I always thought that was Trey’s job and only his, but Dad knew I’d been hurting. Being away from Trey and only seeing him for a few minutes here and there wasn’t cutting it anymore.

We walk side by side the rest of the way to the trailer. When we get there, I stand in the driveway, wishing I didn’t have to go inside.

“I’ll be fine.” It’s as much of a pep talk to myself as it is for Jasper.

Chewing on his lip, he’s trying to keep his opinions to himself. They’re bubbling to the surface, and the longer we stand here, the harder it’s going to be for him to stay quiet.

“Thank you,” I tell him.

And then I turn around and leave him. It’s the hardest couple of steps I think I’ve ever taken. And only once I’m inside does Jasper move.

I leave all the lights off like I normally do and pull some pajamas out of the closet. I’m only half-dressed when I hear knuckles rapping against the front door. It’s not the usual pounding I’ve learned to expect from one of the thugs. This is controlled. Polite even. Nobody polite ever comes here.

As quietly as I can, I tiptoe across the living room and peer through the peephole. Jasper’s standing there with the plastic bag in his hand. He holds it up in the air, showing me that I forgot to take it from him.

If I open the door, he’ll try to talk me into leaving. As much as I don’t want to, I wait it out until he sets the bag on the porch and then leaves. Before he reaches the street, he turns around three different times, checking to see if I’ve opened the door.

There’s only one explanation for why Jasper hasn’t given up on me yet. He must be crazy. But, every time I see him, I search for clues about what could be wrong with him. Why does he want to be in my life, and why does he care about me?

If he comes back tomorrow, I promise myself that, no matter how bad it is inside this trailer, I’ll open the door.