The Consequence of Loving Colton
“I had so many good ideas. I earmarked the pages.” Grandma continued to talk as Max led her away from Reid, who was very much alive, but I’m sure he was second-guessing that decision.
Once we reached the bottom of the tree, more guests had piled into the front yard a good distance from where we were.
“Go get ready, man.” Reid shrugged away from me. “I’ll turn on the twinkle lights so the effect is perfect.”
“I feel like if I leave you, she’ll find you,” I said, hesitating between wanting to get ready and wanting to protect the poor guy’s virtue.
“I’ll be fine.” Reid nodded, his eyes watery. “I’m doing this for you, you know.”
I reached for his arm. “And if she finds you . . .”
“If I perish . . .” he whispered, closing his eyes, “I perish.”
“Good man.”
With a firm nod, he pulled me in for a hug and walked off toward the outlet.
CHAPTER FORTY
MILO
“This is a really pretty dress.” I turned around in front of the mirror and couldn’t help but smile as the sweetheart neckline seemed to make my boobs look bigger. The entire bodice was see-through white lace except for a few strips of material around the front where my very perky boobs were pushed together, creating more cleavage than I’d ever seen in my entire life. The bottom of the dress billowed down to my feet, with a small section drawn up over my leg like a slit. It was the dress I would have chosen had I been given an unlimited amount of money. It was also the type of dress a girl wore for a wedding—not a vow renewal. Mom had said it was just something she’d picked up for the wedding “just in case.” The receipt had today’s date on it, which made me wonder, but I wasn’t going to say no to something so pretty.
I was going to enjoy it.
“You look beautiful.” Jenna fastened more bobby pins into the back of my low bun and pulled some pieces of hair forward, laying them softly against my face. “Perfect.” She sniffled.
“Are you crying?”
“No.” She sniffled again and looked away. “Just have mascara in my eye.”
“Look, Jenna.” I put my hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry about . . .” Wait, I’d never actually done anything to her, I’d just thought those nasty things. “I’m sorry for having a bad attitude, it’s just I saw you with Colt and I assumed—”
Okay, she was full-on crying now. Her shoulders shook as she cried into her hands.
“Um, Jenna?”
“He doesn’t even recognize me!”
“Colton?”
“Jason!” she wailed. “He doesn’t even remember!”
“Remember . . . your face?” I offered, patting her on the back. “Or did something happen?”
She flushed and looked down at the floor.
“Jenna?”
“He slept with me.”
Well, crap. I opened my mouth, but really, I couldn’t think of anything to say that would make her tears stop flowing or get her to forgive my jackass of a brother. On second thought . . . “I can give him another black eye if you want?”
Jenna laughed. “Yeah, well, he deserves it.”
“Are you sure he doesn’t remember? I mean, I know we’re talking about the same Jason who had a Spiderman lunch box throughout eighth grade, but . . .”
“Don’t you think he would have said something?” Jenna looked up at me, her green eyes blurred with tears. “I mean, it’s not like we kissed and that was it.”
“Were you drunk?” I blurted.
“No!” She bit down on her lip. “Well, okay, I wasn’t, but he may have been slightly . . . inebriated.”
“Jenna, he’s a man. He’s also an ass. He’s an ass and a man.” I sighed. “You can’t really expect him to remember things if he’s drunk. That’s like letting a dog loose in a park, hiding a piece of meat, and expecting him to come back to you rather than eating the meat. He’s gonna find the meat, he’s gonna eat it, then he’s going to get tired, go to the bathroom, and take a nap.”
She shook her head. “What?”
“Never mind.” Clearly my analogies only worked on Max and Colt. Either that or I was hanging out with Max too much.
Ah, yes. It was the Max effect. Suddenly explaining serious life situations by way of Finding Nemo and crapping dogs seemed like an intelligent idea. Damn Max.
“Look.” I held her hands. “Would it help if I talked to him?”
“No!” Jenna’s eyes widened with terror. “Don’t you dare say a word! Swear to me—”
“It may help.”
Her eyes narrowed. “No offense, Milo, but I would never use your name and the word help in the same story, let alone the same paragraph or sentence, you get the picture?”
“Harsh.”
“Sometimes the truth is.” She smiled through her tears.
“You girls ready?” Mom busted through the doorway, hands on hips and a few red marks on her arms.
“Mom, what happened?”
“Ants.” She said it like a curse word. “Everywhere. Apparently our tree is infested.”
“Right,” I said slowly. “But how did they get on you?”
“Jason,” she said in that same irritated voice. “He has them in his pants.”