Falling For My Fake Valentine

Chapter Three

It was pitch black in the closet. I held my breath for ten long seconds, waiting for someone to open the door and expose me. I imagined people pointing and laughing, like a high-school horror story. How had this become my life? The past seventeen years had been the opposite of dramatic. I lived an unremarkable life.

When no one came for me, I exhaled, feeling around the darkness for somewhere to sit. My fingers brushed mop handles, a broom, a shelf filled with cleaning products and then something soft and warm. I fondled the object, as though my hand were in a mystery box and I was trying to describe the object.

“I kind of wanted to be alone.”

The voice, coming out of the darkness, made me jump. Like a horror movie jump-scare. I stifled a scream, leaping back against the shelf. Bottles tipped, clattering noisily and I almost swore. I didn’t like swearing. I always felt it was indicative of someone who didn’t possess other words to adequately articulate themselves – but in that moment, it almost slipped out.

The blue light of a cell phone came on, illuminating the closet with angles and shadows. Even in the disorientating glow, I recognised those cheekbones, those glacier eyes. “Jax.” I so wasn’t in the mood for another tit-for-tat confrontation with my science partner. I rarely outsmarted him in a verbal battle of wits, and tonight I stood no chance of rendering him speechless. “What are you doing in here?”

He stared at me, under-lit by the blue hue. “You make it sound so ridiculous but you’re hiding in here, too.” A black eyebrow arched – really arched, almost like a caricature.

“I need to be alone.” I folded my arms again, around myself, like a hug. The cold of the winter night had seeped through my clothes, through my nervousness, deep into my bones. I bit my tongue, to stop the rattling chatter of my teeth.

“I heard the commotion,” said Jax, his voice soft. I had never known him to show sympathy. Like the arctic hue of his eyes, he was cold and uncompassionate. “Brandon was a cheating scumbag? I can’t say I’m shocked.” He found a folded foot stool, opened it and sat down.

I studied the sharp lines of his face, accentuated by the cell phone light. “Why?” I asked, dreading the answer. I was already feeling humiliated.

Jax shrugged. “Brandon isn’t known for being a one girl kind of guy,” he explained. “What have you done to your hair, Bossy?”

I made a noise, like a frustrated toddler. A sort of garumph sound in my throat. “Stop calling me that!” I snapped.

“I’m not saying you look bad,” Jax replied, narrowing his eyes. “Just different. You look nice.”

“Well,” I said slowly, “thank you for validating me, Jax. My life has meaning once more.” And yet I was very aware of my hypocrisy – because I quite liked that he thought I looked nice. Which was as uninspiring as a compliment could possibly be, wasn’t it? Nice was not outstanding, or extraordinary. Nice girls weren’t stunning girls. No, they were reasonably pleasing. Not offensive. Jax telling me I looked nice was tantamount to saying I wasn’t quite ugly.

“Why do you do that?” he asked.

I refocused my gaze, through the dim light. “What?”

“Drift off somewhere – as though everything must be analysed.”

I found another footstool and perched on the narrow seat. I wrapped my arms around my knees, listening quietly to the party through the utility closet door. “I guess I’m just in my own head a lot.” Hadn’t Kady said something similar, just an hour ago? Was I a chronic spacer?

“You’re doing it again.”

“Sorry!” I shook my head, fixing my gaze steadfastly on Jax Lamont. “It’s a coping mechanism; if I think about unimportant nonsense, I don’t have to recall my own humiliation, right? I don’t have to contemplate what compelled me to think Brandon actually liked me. I’m just another notch, right?”

Jax’s eyes widened, his jaw tightening. “You slept with Brandon?”

“What? No! I mean metaphorically.” My cheeks flamed. “I’m just another girl to check off his list.” An unexpected wash of tears filled my eyes, causing me to blink. I gave absent consideration to my mascara, liberally applied in three coats by Kady. Sniffing, I shook it off. I wasn’t going to cry in front of Jax.

“Are you all right?”

I couldn’t speak – and then when I did, I verbally vomited all over him. “No, not really. I reached senior year at Sugar Grove without scandal. I’ve always been the sensible one – never drew attention to myself. I mean, who would look twice at well-behaved Abigail Kilbride? Even my name sounds like the moniker of an eighty year old woman. Then in my last year before college, I fall for the most unsuitable jerk in the whole school. Way to go out with  a bang, right? Now my perfect record will be forever ruined by one night at a stupid party when I confronted Brandon in the garden. They’ll gossip about me for years. ‘Who did she think she was?’ they’ll ask in disbelief—”

“Abbie—”

“And of course, it’s probably going to have long term psychological damage, isn’t it? Because I’m just the kind of l-o-o-o-ser who would ended up with a screw loose over a pathetic guy who didn’t even like me anyway. I mean what was I thinking? He obviously had no interest in me, but I was so happy to have caught his eye that I ignored all the warning signs, didn’t I?” I stood up, pacing the tiny closet like a caged animal.

“Abbie—”

“All the time I thought people were envying me, but it was pity, wasn’t it? How stupid is Abigail Kilbride to think Brandon wants her? He was my first boyfriend and he’ll probably be my last – because who wants to be with a girl who watches stars and stares morosely into space? Furthermore, who would want a girl who actually uses morosely in a sentence?”

“Abbie – oh heck!” Jax stood, wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me against him – hard! I gasped, my surprise muffled by his lips pressing against mine. Our kiss was tense, and then it wasn’t. Our mouths moved together, perfectly, as if in sync. His fingers moved up my back, over my shoulder and into the backcombed nest of my hair. He caressed my scalp and a tremor ran through me, all the way from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. The  first tremor was like the rumblings of a volcanic eruption – for the second wave was pure, intense heat that ignited every nerve ending in my whole body.

And then just like that, it was over. Jax stepped back, his bright blue eyes searching mine. “You really do ramble on,” he said, a wry smile tugging at his – as I just discovered – very talented lips.

My own lips throbbed. I stared at him with eyes like a tawny owl, wondering if I had dreamed the whole thing. “What was that?” I asked, my voice brittle, as if I had exhausted my vocal chords with my long winded rant.

“That was me shutting you up,” said Jax, clearing his throat. He tugged on the collar of the smart navy shirt he wore.

“Was it strictly necessary?” I asked, feigning outrage. I didn’t want him to think he could just grab and kiss girls whenever he wanted.

“I felt it was. You were giving me a headache.” He rubbed his temples to emphasise his point. “You’re so wordy.” He snapped his hand open and closed like a yakking jaw, and I made a noise of indignation. “Anyway, you seemed to like it.”

I wanted to contradict him – oh, I so wanted to put the arrogant jerk in his place – but he was right. More than anything in a long time, I had liked kissing Jax Lamont. Of all the surprising things that had happened to me lately, this was perhaps the most shocking of all. “You’re no better than Brandon,” I whispered.

“I beg your pardon?”

“What about Delaney?” I snapped. I was angry that I had somehow become Kaycee by kissing someone else’s boyfriend.

“Who?” His brow furrowed.

“Delaney,” I repeated, slowly, in case he really was as stupid as I feared. “Your girlfriend.”

Just as slowly, Jax replied, “I don’t have a girlfriend, though.” His eyes were as intense as sharp glass. “Do you mean Delaney Irwin, from Rochester Prep?” I nodded, picturing the uniform wearing demi-goddess that everyone said he was dating. “Holy heck, I thought that rumour died out months ago. I’ve never even met her.” He made a face. “Where do the rumours even come from?”

Relief washed over me, followed by a strange type of longing. I let out a deep breath, wondering how long we’d been holed up in Alex Withers’ utility closet. Outside, the music seemed louder than ever. Kady was probably searching high and low for me, worried out of her mind in case I was roaming around Sugar Grove in the dark, a heartbroken mess.

“I have to go,” I said. It seemed like an anticlimactic ending to the whole thing.

Jax nodded once. “See ya, Bossy.”

“Jax,” I warned. “You’ve already overstepped your boundaries by kissing me—”

The closet door swung open and Kady stood on the other side, her face panicked. Her relief was replaced with shock when she took in the sight of us, and absorbed the words she overheard. Her eyes flickered between me and Jax, back and forth like the pendulum on a clock. When she spoke, she was angry. “I’ve been really worried, Abbie. This is so uncool.” She spun on her heel, storming off.