CHAPTER SIX
A few drops of wine splashed onto Nick, but most of it drenched Jack Cooper. It dripped from his hair and stained his t-shirt pink. Nick wasn’t complaining. He had to admit that it was a satisfying sight, at least to him.
No one else seemed to think so. Former classmates rushed from all corners of the gymnasium to help him out. The buzz of chatter, which had faded when Jack first appeared, now returned at double the volume. Nick caught scraps of it.
“Is that Jack Cooper?”
“I thought he was shooting that new movie? Oh my God, he looks amazing. I could just eat him with a spoon.”
“Why didn’t they tell us he was coming? I wouldn’t have brought a date!”
Jesus, it was just like actual high school. All the girls going crazy over Jack Cooper and forgetting about everyone else. Why should the reunion be any different?
Jack opened one wine-soaked eye and accepted the paper towel that Maria was pushing at him. He wiped his eyes and blinked at the scene around him. Half the guests at the reunion were within a three-yard radius. They were pressing toward him, elbowing each other so they could get closer. It wasn’t every day that a real movie star came to Everton, especially one who used to be a classmate.
“Hi, everyone,” Jack said with a sheepish wave.
Nick turned and shoved his way through the gathering crowd. He couldn't let Peyton just run off alone when she was so upset. But the atrium was empty, its polished floor revealing nothing. He pushed open the double doors that led to the parking lot, but saw no sign of her there, or in his Jeep.
Heading back to the gymnasium, he fired off a text to her. Are you okay?
She didn’t answer. Maybe she needed some space, or maybe the building was playing its usual tricks with messaging speed. Maybe she wanted that wine all to herself.
When he got back to the reunion, the crowd of adoring fans still surrounded Jack. His former nemesis caught his eye and mouthed, help.
Nick folded his arms across his chest and scowled at Jack Cooper. What had Jack ever done to earn his help? All they’d done was fight from the moment Jack had saddled him with the worst nickname known to man.
“You have some nerve, showing up out of the blue like this,” Maria was saying. She’d never been impressed with Jack the way everyone else was. “You never RSVP’d, and that’s just rude.”
“Sorry. It was a last-minute decision,” he told her as he blotted more drops of wine off his neck. “Might be regretting it about now.”
“No! We’re glad you came!” A woman who might have been Julie from the yearbook committee tugged at his arm. “And of course he couldn’t RSVP, Maria. Then the paparazzi would have known and he would have been mobbed.”
Nick glanced at the ring of faces that had formed around them and snorted. The paparazzi had nothing on a high school reunion. Jack would have been better off with a posse of photographers.
“Okay, everyone, give the man some space,” Maria called. “I’m sure Jack will want to catch up with each and every one of you for a long personal chat, right, Jack?”
Jack winced, then smiled gamely. “Sure thing. It’s great to be back. Can’t wait to talk to everyone. First I have to get cleaned up, though.” Again, he looked at Nick. Please, he mouthed.
What the hell? Couldn’t the guy clean wine off his face without a bodyguard? Shrugging, Nick gave in. He slung an arm around Jack’s shoulders—noting with satisfaction that he was still a half-inch taller than Jack—and shepherded him through the crowd, into the atrium.
Still no sign of Peyton and her wine bottle.
“Let’s go to the teachers’ lounge. More privacy there,” he told Jack.
“Works for me. Jesus, I had no idea what I was getting into.”
Nick refrained from commenting on that remark, which seemed completely absurd to him. Didn’t Jack know he was a movie star? The one and only celebrity Everton High had ever produced, besides that one dude who’d competed on the The Price is Right once.
In the lounge, Nick showed Jack to the bathroom and collected a wad of paper towels for him. Jack stripped off his t-shirt, which Nick took as a cue to shut the door with a hard thunk. He’d seen Jack’s shirtless torso on that aftershave ad, which was more than enough for him.
“Thanks, man,” Jack called through the door.
Nick muttered a grudging, “Sure,” and opened the fridge where the teachers kept their lunches and energy drinks. It contained nothing that belonged to him. Did he dare swipe one of Janine’s Go-Gurts? The biology teacher had been flirting with him nonstop.
Maybe he should ask her out. God knew nothing was going to happen with Peyton—not now, anyway. Not now that Jack was back.
“Do you happen to have any spare shirts out there?” Jack called.
“No, but Beth always leaves her apron here. She teaches Home Ec.”
“I’ll take it.”
Nick grinned fiercely and snagged Beth’s apron, which was made from a flour sack and said, “I make cupcakes, what’s your superpower?” He shoved it past the door for Jack to grab.
“Nice,” Jack said, laughing. “I want to meet this Beth. Have you tried her cupcakes?”
Oh, for Christ’s sake. Did Jack flirt with every woman he came across? “What are you doing here, Jack? Last I heard, you were hitting it big in Hollywood.”
Jack emerged from the bathroom, shirtless, tying on the apron. “I need to talk to you.”
Nick lifted his eyebrows. What the hell did Jack Cooper have to say to him? “You came back to Everton to talk? To me?”
“Not just you, but I guess you’re first. I’m adjusting to circumstances. Can we sit? Is there anything to drink back here? I tried wringing out my shirt, but I only got about a teaspoon of alcohol out of it.”
Nick grinned reluctantly. Honestly, it was hard to resist Jack’s charm, even for him, his arch-rival. “We can’t have alcohol back here. How do you feel about Go-Gurt?”
Jack slumped into one of the armchairs. “I guess that’s about how this day is going. Bring on the Go-Gurt. Thanks.”
Nick grabbed one from the fridge and tossed it to Jack, then came back and sat on the couch opposite him. “Okay, enough fooling around. What’s this all about? Why are you here? What do you want to talk to me about?”
“Peyton.”
Nick tensed. “Peyton? I don’t think she wants to talk to you.”
“Yeah. I got that.” Jack swiped the back of his hand across his forehead. “I didn’t know she was still so pissed at me.”
Nick didn’t know what to say to that. Seriously, Jack didn’t know he’d crushed her heart when he left? “You walked out on her right before her speech.”
“I know, but we weren’t…I mean, we never even slept together. It’s not like we were…” He shrugged. “Look, this is between me and Peyton. I’m trying to make amends. You’ve heard of the twelve-step program? It’s like that. I’m on kind of a redemption tour. I’m trying to make things right with all the women I’ve hurt.”
“How long is that list?” Nick asked dryly.
“Not as long as you obviously think.” A sharp look from Jack’s bright blue eyes caught him off guard. “I’m pretty straight up in my relationships. I don’t lie, I don’t mislead. But there are a few things I do feel bad about, and what happened with Peyton is one of them.”
“So write her a letter. Why’d you have to ambush her at a reunion?”
“Where’s the catharsis in a letter?”
“Catharsis?”
“It’s a term in drama. It means the release of deep emotion.”
Nick dug his hands into his hair. “I know what catharsis is,” he growled. “I teach here, you know.”
“Seriously? Right on, dude.” He leaned forward for a fist bump. “You always were the smartest one around, you and Peyton. And you’re friends now, right? You’re here together, I saw you come in. You can talk to her. Get her to meet with me. Tell her she can throw more wine at me if she wants. Hey—I bet that was cathartic right there. Maybe now she’ll want to talk, now that she got that out of her system. It’s up to you, man.”
“Why would I do anything for you? We were arch-enemies, remember?”
Jack shot him a blinding smile, the same smile that had beamed from page six of People’s Sexiest Man edition last year. “Only because I envied you.”
“Excuse me?” This whole conversation was starting to blow his mind. “Don’t you have that backwards?”
“Can’t comment on that, since I’m not you. But think about it. You always got better grades and you were a fucking killer athlete. I could play, but you were better. All I had was Drama Club.”
“And girls.”
“And girls,” Jack agreed with an easy grin. “Which I’m not complaining about. I’m just saying, my parents were always on my ass to be more like you. So yeah, I was jealous.” He opened the tube of Go-Gurt. “I really wish I had some tequila to pour in here.”
Nick nearly gagged at the idea of tequila and yogurt combined. Must be some new Hollywood club drink.
“So, how about it?”
Just then, Nick’s phone beeped. It was a text from Peyton, finally answering him. I’m fine. Tragic news tho. The wine is gone. Oh hey—great reunion. Thanks for bringing me. A string of emojis followed. A cocktail glass, a dancing girl, a middle finger.
He snorted and texted back. Where r u?
Scene of the crime, she told him.
Ha. The auditorium backstage area. Bingo. “I’ll talk to her,” he told Jack. “But no guarantees.”
“All I can ask. Oh, one more thing. I don’t have much time. Wardrobe fitting tomorrow.”
Nick ground his back teeth together. “You’re a jackass, you know that?”
Jack gave him a wounded look as he sucked on his Go-Gurt. “I’m trying to do better. This is about personal growth. And catharsis for Peyton. Let’s keep our eyes on the prize here.”
“Whatever. I’ll find her and talk to her, but after that you’re on your own.”