Twenty-Eight

Winnie

Ace’s couch was lumpy, and one of Lydia’s toys poked me in the ribs during the night. It was lodged in between the cushions, and I was too afraid to see what it might be until I couldn’t take it anymore. The doll was missing an arm, and I chucked it across the room toward the toy bin.

Eventually, I stopped thinking about Trey and fell asleep. Knowing he wasn’t across town, that he was just a few trailers away, was killing me. The first night out of foster care, and there I was, sleeping on a couch, while the man I wanted was so close. But, if I had snuck out of Ace’s trailer and into Trey’s, I would have broken my promise. I told Trey I could handle being on my own last night, and going to him would have made me look like a liar.

Ace wanders into the living room, scratching the back of his head and messing his hair up even more than it already is. If I were with Trey, he’d have woken up shirtless, and he’d already have coffee in his hand. I love kissing his warm lips after he takes a sip.

“You okay?” Ace asks.

I’m staring. “I’m good,” I tell him.

“How’d you sleep?”

“Fine.”

Another glance over his shoulder, and then his head’s in the fridge. It’s nearly noon, and my stomach’s so empty, I can’t tell if I’m nauseous or just hungry. But I won’t be able to eat until I figure out how to make tonight happen.

“I worked on updating the website last night. You’re on the schedule.”

“Did you use my real name?”

“No,” he says with a laugh. “I’m not stupid, Winnie.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that you were. I’m just nervous I’ll get stopped before I get started.”

He scrambles some eggs and dumps some cereal in a bowl. “I have you listed as a special guest. No picture. So, whoever shows up will have no idea who they’re even looking for. Just something different and enticing.”

“You think that’s enough to bring people in?”

“We’ve done it once before, and it worked.”

“Who was it?”

“She was only there a week. Needed some fast cash, like you, and then she took off. I haven’t heard from her since. I can make it even better this time.”

I’m Ace’s project, the first item on his to-do list. I heard him up most of the night, tapping away on his keyboard in the bedroom. I figured it had to do with me, and I wasn’t sure if his efforts made me feel good or cheap. Dollar signs are good, but what if I can’t go through with it? I want this more than anything—to show the world that Winnie Dawes is capable of making it on her own—but I always thought I’d do that someplace else. Maybe college and getting a degree or having my own clothing line someday. I didn’t think my claim to fame would be at the hands of Ace and The Whip.

“I’m sure it’ll be great,” I tell him, not wanting to seem ungrateful for the opportunity he’s giving me.

He could have just as easily kicked me out of his office and told me I was crazy. I’d have had to go back to Trey last night and either begged him to let me stay or went back to Sunshine Place to go wherever Cindy and the social worker felt was best.

“You’re quiet, Winnie. Are you having second thoughts? I can shut this down before it goes any further.”

I never had any first thoughts, if there was such a thing. Dancing was never at the forefront of my mind, only the money.

“I don’t want to be Tess; that’s all.”

Ace sets his spatula down and turns the stove off. Then, he sits next to me on the couch, and I wait for him to touch me. He doesn’t—thankfully.

“Tess danced for the attention,” he tells me. “She got up there, so everyone would watch her. The money bought her drugs, but it wasn’t her motivator, believe it or not. After your dad died, she was lost, like you were. But that’s the only thing you have in common.”

Tess had the ability to be a total bitch to people yet still make them care. Because no good human wants to watch another crash and burn, and even though Ace runs a shady operation sometimes, he’s still a good person.

“You felt bad for her. I get it.”

“Yes, and no,” he says. “She made me a lot of money because the wilder she was when she danced and worked the bar, the more attention she got. She was lonely, masking her pain with the drugs and then begging for attention with her body. She didn’t know how to get it any other way.”

“Do you think she was ever faithful to my dad?”

“Maybe at first. But she wasn’t well, Winnie. Addicts never are. I should have fired her a million times, but as long as she was at The Whip, she was alive. She had a reason to get up in the morning, and it was less time she was at home with you. But, if I had known how it would end up, I would have done it differently. I should have called someone and got you out of there.”

“You didn’t know, Ace. Sure, Tess hated me. Nobody knew she’d shoot me though.”

“I’m glad she’s in jail, Winnie. She needed to break the cycle.”

“I’m glad, too.”

Dad’s death changed us both. Tess got worse, and I cut more. What would he think of me now? I pray it’s too cloudy for him to see me from heaven because, if he knew I was following in Tess’s footsteps, dancing in her spot in the lineup, he’d roll over in his grave.

I’m sorry, Daddy.

“Let’s go to the club, and we’ll get you set up. You don’t have to make your final choice until tonight. No pressure.”

I already know I’ll go through with it. Ace has my word, and I won’t take it back. That’s not what adults do.

The front door opens without so much as a knock or a ring of the bell. Jasper walks inside and tosses his book bag on the floor. He looks up, and his eyes collide with mine. His stare is so cold, I pull the blanket up to my chin and sink as low as I can beneath it.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he says with a laugh that’s neither funny nor intoxicating, like his usually are.

“This isn’t what it looks like,” Ace tells him.

“Then, what is it? Because it looks to me like you spent the night with Winnie.”

These are the last few hours of being the Winnie Jasper thought he was in love with. Tonight, I’ll transform into a girl Jasper wouldn’t give the time of day to.

I’ve had plenty of practice with transforming into someone else. Every day of my life, I wake up and act like I’m okay with who I am and where I came from. I pretend that I’m not ashamed that my father overdosed or that his pathetic wife despised me so much that she shot me.

I swore, life would be different after the bullet was removed from my body. The counselors spent hours with me, trying to get my mind to a safer place. We talked about goals and intentions, and they helped me build plans for the future.

We talked about the days after graduation and a life full of exciting opportunities. They believed in me. But, as soon as they walked away, I went back to bleeding inside. The scars blistered through my skin until I was so full of shame and defeat, I stopped believing better existed. Their plans weren’t for me. They were for them—to make them feel better about everything I wasn’t saying. All the abuse and neglect. All the parts of my story I’d left out because they were too heavy to say out loud.

Nancy, the social worker, and the counselors didn’t hear the stories about being forced to try alcohol when I was ten or giving a blow job at twelve. They didn’t understand what it was like to see white powder on a mirror when you were six and then wondering why you couldn’t have any when it made your parents and their friends so happy. Or what it was like to go to bed with an extra layer of clothes on just because it put more time between you and a stranger. Time for them to get caught when they had to struggle to get it off.

I’m nothing more than a hoarder of truths. And, now, I’m about to shed those layers and tell some of the biggest lies of my life. That I want to do this. That I’m okay. And that I’ll make it to the other side without another scar on my body.

“He didn’t touch me, Jasper. Not that it’s any of your business.”

Jasper closes his eyes and then opens them. His bruise isn’t quite as black, and there’s a little bit of green around the purple edges. “We need to talk, Winnie.”

“Is that why you came here?”

“No,” he says. “How was I supposed to know you were on my brother’s couch?”

“I don’t know. You tell me. You’re the one who knows every move I make. And even the ones I don’t.”

Ace stands up and says, “I’ll be in the shower.”

I can’t blame him for wanting out of this conversation. Jasper’s intense, and I’m not giving him much room to breathe. Not after what he did to Trey’s trailer and at school.

“I didn’t start that rumor, Winnie. I’d never do that to you.”

“You’re such a liar. Dray told me it was you.”

Jasper shakes his head. “Since when is his word gold and mine shit? We were best friends. I stayed by your side the entire time you were in the hospital. Then, you moved into the foster home, and Alex took my place. Everything changed, just like that.”

“That’s not true.”

It is true.

I was never trying to replace Jasper. Dray just lived with me. He understood what my world was like. He felt pain like mine, and I’d never met anyone else who was struggling like that.

I’m about to tell him I’m sorry, but I stop myself. I’m done apologizing for situations and reactions that weren’t my fault. Whether I changed or he did, he still did unforgiveable things to me and Trey. Jasper knew what would hurt the worst, and that’s why he did it.

Ace grabs his keys off the counter and looks at me. “Take your time, Winnie. I’ll talk to you later. Jasper, lock up when you’re done.”

He’s being vague for my sake, and I’m thankful. I need to get out of here and get to The Whip. I’m going to need every second of time between now and when I go onstage to get myself together. There’s the outfit, the wig, the music. All of it has to be perfect, or I’ll crash and burn. But I’ll do that anyway if I get caught before that.

“I have to shower,” I tell Jasper. “And then I have to get going.”

“There are a couple of things I need to say.”

“What’s it matter?”

Nothing that comes out of his mouth will change my mind about what I want or where I plan to go. I’m done with all things high school, and that includes my friendship with Jasper. He hurt me. He ruined us. He doesn’t deserve my forgiveness. Still, I stand here and wait for him to say something else. I give him time he hasn’t earned and a chance to explain himself.

Jasper glances at the duffel bag, full of what little I own, and then back to me. He knows its significance and the importance of it being here and not at Sunshine Place. “Because I have this feeling you won’t be in Carillon much longer.”

This isn’t the time or place for this conversation. Although there’s never going to be a time I want to tell Jasper my plans. He lost the right to be involved in my life, and I won’t give it back to him.

“I really need to shower and get out of here.”

“I’ll wait.”

I don’t want him to wait, especially now that it’s just the two of us. If Trey finds out we’re here alone, he’ll lose his mind. But what choice do I have? I can’t push Jasper out of his brother’s home and then slam the door in his face.

Can I?

You always have a choice, Winnie.

Today isn’t about choices. It’s about plans.

“Actually, I’m just gonna get going. I’ll shower later.”

There’s a full working bathroom in Ace’s office. I’ll use it when I get there.

“I’ll walk you home then.”

“I want you to leave, Jasper. Just leave me alone, and let me go on with my life. You did enough,” I tell him.

He watches me fold the blanket and set the pillow on top of it. My heart races because he won’t take his eyes off me, and I’ve never yelled at him like that. I’ve never purposely hurt anyone’s feelings, and knowing how bad it hurts to be shut out and pushed aside, guilt starts to flood back into my veins. The same guilt that’s drowned me until I cut my skin open and let it bleed back out.

“Take a shower. Do whatever you need to do. I’ll leave you alone.” Jasper opens the front door and turns the lock on the knob.

“Wait,” I blurt out. “Will you stay until I’m finished?”

The cloud over Jasper’s head lifts, and his eyes trace every inch of my face.

“This doesn’t mean anything. I don’t forgive you.”

“But you don’t want to be alone. You’re still scared, and deep down, you still trust me, Winnie. I know you do. I see it in your eyes. There’s no fear, just sadness.”

It’s true. Despite the rumor and ruining what little I had left of my life, Jasper doesn’t scare me the way Jax or one of his friends would. Maybe it’s his connection to Ace or the fact that he’s here, trying to make things right—nobody ever wants to make it right with me—but I’m not afraid. As much as I need to get away from Jasper, I need him to stay, too.

“I’m sad because you disappointed me,” I tell him. “The one person who I never expected to let me down did.”

“I didn’t,” he whispers. “I didn’t.”

“I have to shower.”

Jasper doesn’t move or say another word. He just lets me go inside the bathroom and watches as I close and lock the door behind me. I take the fastest shower I can even though I want to stand under the hot water for hours, and then I dress and throw my wet hair in a knot on top of my head. When I open the door, he’s leaning against the doorframe, messing with his phone.

It reminds me of the dead one in my bag, so I dig it out and hand it back to him.

“Keep it,” he says.

“It doesn’t work.”

“I was late with the bill. It’s working again.”

He presses a button on his, and my phone lights up in my hand. As much as I want the safety of having it in my pocket, I can’t keep it. It wouldn’t be right, and Trey already said he’d replace it.

“You shouldn’t be spending your money on me, Jasper. You need it.”

“You need it more than I do. Especially if you’re not going back to school.”

I’m not talking to him about my plans, so I tuck the phone back in my bag and take a step toward the door. Jasper’s fingers wrap around the knob before mine, and I wait for him to open the door. He pauses, says nothing, and then drops his hand.

He turns toward me and slides his hand up my arm until his palm cradles my cheek. I wait for words. They still don’t come. Instead of the conversation he so badly wanted, he crashes his lips against mine. I try to push him away, but he grabs my face in both hands and holds on to me so tightly, I can’t turn my head or move.

My hands ball into fists, and I punch his back with all my might until his demanding kisses become less forceful, and I find myself hitting him less. Eventually, the struggle ends, and I find myself kissing him back. It confuses me so much, tears pool in my eyes. I blink once, and they fall onto Jasper’s face and then mine.

Jasper hesitates, but I don’t stop. I kiss him again and again to figure out if what I’m feeling is meant for him or Trey. Because they’re both running through my mind right now. I love Trey. I miss Jasper. And I don’t know what this kiss will mean once we stop.

I can’t do this. It’s wrong.

But how can kissing Trey feel so right when it’s against the law and kissing Jasper be wrong? I don’t understand. Why can’t I want Jasper the way I want Trey?

Because he doesn’t have my whole heart. There’s less history. Less need and want and desire. Less everything.

Jasper’s my safety net. He’s always been that for me, and kissing him only messes that up. We can’t be together. We’ll never be together.

I want Trey.

I’m positive.

But, if I love Trey, then why do Jasper’s lips feel so good on mine?

Why aren’t I pulling away as his hands roam up and down my back?

I can’t stop.

And I have no idea why I don’t want to.

Fear.

That’s what this is about.

Fear has me both paralyzed and intoxicated.