Twenty-Nine

Jasper

Taking chances, you can either make it or break it. Most teenagers are risk-takers. We’re supposed to make ninety percent of our bad choices before we graduate college and then get married. After that, all the fun and games turn into responsibilities and expectations.

I’ve watched it happen to my brother. Before he had a kid, he did as he pleased and got into his fair share of trouble. Bad decisions were as routine as going to work, and he didn’t seem to care. Until Lydia came along. Until his girlfriend panicked and left. She wasn’t ready for that kind of responsibility, and she left the baby with my brother, who had never changed a diaper in his life.

Because of his bad choices, I grew up. I became the guy who watched from afar and didn’t care what the rest of the crowd was doing. I paid attention to the invisible girl who was so lonely and afraid, she never looked up from the floor. She sat in class and pretended the teachers couldn’t see her even though they watched her with sadness in their eyes.

I waited for my moment, that one little glimpse she’d give me, and then I stepped in. I didn’t think she’d ever look at me, but when it happened, I felt it through every inch of my body. Turns out, I had been merely existing, too, and I was finally ready to start living.

With that one look from Winnie, my world went from routine, regular, and boring to exciting. Thinking about her spiked my heart rate. Seeing her almost made me have a heart attack. And, when we spoke, that was like forever bottled up in a jar. I knew it would only last for a short time, and that once the jar was opened, the moments we’d shared would evaporate into thin air. I thought that we could bottle up more moments and then release them together.

I wanted all of Winnie.

Until she came along, I had been afraid of relationships. I saw the hell my dad had put my mom through and decided I’d focus on a career instead. It was the only way not to get hurt. But life threw me a curveball, and when I least expected it, I caught feelings for the invisible girl.

Barely anyone else noticed when she walked by. They could brush against her or practically run her down, but they only saw a shadow of a person. Not me. I saw Winnie for her beauty, her light, her darkness, and I didn’t care about the demons she kept locked up inside. I had those, too.

Winnie wasn’t a project or a challenge to conquer; she was worth all the effort in the world. And that shy girl who was scary as hell to approach became my comfort zone.

“Jasper,” she mumbles against my mouth. It’s a mix between a groan and a plea to stop.

I back up and let her catch her breath. Mine’s lodged in my stomach, and my chest heaves as I stare at her. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, dazed but hopefully less confused than she was a couple of minutes ago. Because that kiss was everything. I didn’t plan it. It just felt right in the moment, and I don’t want to question it.

Winnie does though. “What was that for?” she asks with a shaky voice.

“That was a long time coming. Don’t you think?”

I can tell the moment she comes crashing down from the high of that kiss. The reality of what just happened sets in, and panic erupts. She tries to step around me, and I anticipate her move and block her from leaving.

“Please don’t run,” I tell her. “Talk to me.”

“I can’t.”

“Just say something. Anything.”

“I have to go.”

Touching her will probably make it worse. She hates being touched without warning. For some reason, she’s been okay with me. If anyone else had just kissed her the way I did, she’d be in the middle of a full-blown panic attack.

“Breathe, Winnie,” I tell her as I place my hands on her shoulders and wait for her to look me in the eyes.

At first, they dart everywhere, and when she runs out of things to look at, I get those stormy eyes back.

“I’ll let you leave, I promise. Just think about it. Before you run away and forget about this place, think about that kiss. Think about us.”

A tiny nod is all she can give me, and I don’t expect anything more. That was hard enough for her.

“I’ll call you,” she says. “When I can talk.”

She won’t. Winnie’s not good at initiating conversation. I’ll have to track her down and most likely coerce her to have another conversation. It’ll be awkward and somewhat forced, but I’ll do it because she deserves it. Because nobody’s ever taken the time to show her how much she matters—except Trey.

“I need you, Winnie. Just remember that. Wherever you’re going, imagine me with you.”

Her hand’s shaking when she reaches for the door again. I stay out of her way and let her feel the knob in her palm. It’s enough to steady her arm, and then she twists her wrist and throws it open. She’s in such a hurry to get to where she’s going—or maybe just to get away from me—that she jumps down the stairs and runs across the street.

As much as I want to follow her, I don’t. If I’ve learned anything about Winnie, it’s that chasing her does more harm than good. My face is the perfect example.