Junk Miles Read online

  “Jake is my boyfriend,” I reminded Saxon.

  His eyes were a little wild when he looked at me. “That first day of school,” he said slowly, forcing me to remember back to that day, “you met me first, right?”

  “Yes.” I made sure my voice was pointed and deliberate. I had to keep my footing. Saxon’s logic could get winding, and I didn’t need to get lost in it.

  “You and I felt something for each other, didn’t we?” He pushed his food aside and looked hard at me. I felt that same can’t-put-my-finger-on-it something that I felt the minute I first saw him.

  “You also felt something for Kelsie.” I tried to dismantle the whole thing as quickly as I could. It was too close, too confusing to talk about so openly. “You were going on a date with her.”

  “One date, Brenna,” he protested, his voice a growl. “One innocent date, and God it pisses me off to even have to say that like you need some damn evidence. You and I could have had something that day, but you thought I was with someone else.” He rushed on before I could dive in and argue. “No. That’s not even accurate. You and I had something together that day, and we still do. You and Jake are together over a technicality of time.”

  “That’s not true.” I wrung my hands frantically and kept my voice hushed. I wished this conversation had never started because there was no escaping it. We were on a tiny plane high over the Atlantic. “I knew Jake was the one. I knew it from the minute I met him.”

  Saxon’s face contorted a dozen different ways before he settled on a resigned grimace. “You knew the minute you met Jake that he was the safe one. He was the one who wouldn’t challenge you or test you.”

  “That’s not true. Anyway, I don’t want to be challenged. I want to be loved,” I said unsteadily.

  In the cool, dry air of that interior, Saxon leaned over until he was so close to my body we should have been touching, but we weren’t. There was a fractional amount of space between us, and he kept that separation with total concentration. “You deserve to be challenged and loved. I would do that for you. And then you could care about me.” His words were torn and harsh, pulled from somewhere deep and hurt.

  Our lips were so close, they could have brushed. I thought about what it would have been like, to kiss him. To kiss Saxon’s mouth. I had done it before, months before, but since that first time, I had always stopped myself. Because of Jake.

  Jake. I loved him. And I would never hurt him.

  But something about Saxon tugged at me. I wanted to be closer to him, to know who he was under the façade we both kept up. I wanted both of us to relax and let down our shields. I wanted to know who he really was, without all of the complications.

  And I wanted to reach out and make whatever hurt disappear for him. I wanted to be whatever amazing, awesome healing power he imagined me to be. But I felt cornered and manipulated and confused, so I turned my head away. “I’m going to sleep, Saxon,” I said abruptly over my shoulder, forcing the whole taxing conversation to grind to a halt. “I don’t feel like talking about this anymore. Don’t bother me.”

  I could feel his eyes on me, feel the tense clench of his muscles as he held himself so close to me but not as close as we both wanted, no matter how stupid it was to want it. He didn’t want this to end. He knew he had me thinking things, considering things, and he wanted to keep weaving his spell, but I couldn’t let him. He already sapped me of so much energy, and I’d only been near him for a few short hours. Finally, he pulled back and leaned in his seat, and after a long, long time, he fell asleep. I felt shaky and angry, but I was able to sleep, too.

  Chapter Five

  And then we woke up in France, and there was enough going on that I could keep my mind away from Saxon for a while. It was nice to have to worry about finding my bags, loading into a van with Mom and the other parents and kids, getting settled in the rooms they had us set up in. We were spread out in the city, but most of us were in dorm-type university rooms that the students weren’t in since it was winter break. There were lots of cool, bright common areas with little kitchenettes and sitting rooms, and small, single rooms set up with a narrow twin bed, a desk and a little closet. It would have been a little dreary, except for the fact that there was Paris, right outside my window.

  And even though Jake and Saxon were still always warring somewhere in the back of my head, I got caught up in the reality of being there, in Paris. It was night when we landed, and everyone felt kind of jittery and chattery. A bunch of people wanted to go out and eat, but Mom had a really strict anti-jetlag system and she was sticking to it.

  “You can go if you want, sweetie,” she said around a yawn. “Just stay close to the group.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I’d rather get some rest and be ready for tomorrow.” I didn’t even acknowledge whether or not Saxon was going. My life was always simplest when I was far away from him, and that included his proximity to my head. Especially considering thoughts of kissing him flipped stubbornly through my head, no matter how hard I tried to push them away for the entire second half of our flight.

  “This is going to be so fun,” Mom said, and I could hear that little twinge of weird guilt in her voice. I liked her mean and in-command best. I didn’t know how to handle my mom when she wasn’t being sure and controlling.

  I just wanted to get away from all that was unknown and warped. I felt so off-balance it was making my stomach queasy. I squeezed her hand. “It already is, Mom. This is amazing. Once we sleep off this jetlag, this is going to be fantastic.” I gave a little fake yawn that turned into a real one just like I hoped it would.

  Mom kissed me hard and went to her room.

  Even though the rooms were only about seven feet wide and a little claustrophobic, they each had one huge window at their far end, and they were private. That made them perfect. I went to my bag and zipped it open, then pulled out my phone. It was still fully charged, and I knew that it had updated international. I hadn’t asked Mom and Thorsten if I could update it. I did it on my own, and hoped they wouldn’t mind the change in price, since it wasn’t much. In the end, I just needed to be able to contact Jake, and I didn’t want an argument or a lecture. And the time difference was enough that I would always be able to call him in as much privacy as there was available.

  The phone rang a few times, and I had a sinking feeling that I had messed up and wouldn’t be able to talk to Jake at all while I was gone. Then I heard the connection click through.

  “Brenna!” His voice rang out so good and happy it was like sinking into a hot bath; I relaxed instantly.

  “Hey, Jake.” I took out my clothes and started hanging them on the hangers someone had (wonderfully) left in the closet. “It’s really good to hear your voice.”

  “Same here.” I could hear yells and an engine in the background.

  “Where are you?” I asked.

  “Leaving work. It was really cold here. How about there?”

  “Not Jersey cold, but it’s chilly.” I didn’t really want to call Jake and talk about the weather. It aggravated me the same way Saxon’s intensely gripping talk had. I didn’t want too much, I didn’t want too little. I was unsatisfied, something that wasn’t very common or comfortable for me.

  “I don’t want to talk about the weather with you,” he said, and I smiled sadly at his perfection as a boyfriend and my inability to appreciate him. “It’s a little weird for me that you’re in Paris, and I’m back here in Sussex County. I want you to do this…I just feel left out. I’m not whining,” he rushed to add.

  “You are whining a little.” I plopped down on the thin mattress of the bed. “But I forgive you. I’m feeling a little whiny, too.”

  “Is it jetlag?” His sympathy made me feel loved and safe.

  And I realized that I had to tell him. I couldn’t spend nearly two weeks in Paris with his once-best-friend and now-arch-enemy without saying something about it. But I didn’t really want to. I rationalized that if Jake was in my situation, I wou
ld want to know. That didn’t really help. But I knew from experience with Jake that any lie I told or truth I withheld would just get bigger and bigger until it buried me under an avalanche of my own guilt.

  “No, Jake. I have to tell you something. This trip isn’t just for me and my mother. It was for all of the local professors and any family they wanted to bring, so…”

  “Oh shit,” Jake interrupted. “Saxon is there.” His tone was flat and harsh.

  “How did you know?” Shock had me sitting straight up on the bed.

  “I didn’t know for sure, but Lylee is a professor, and what else would you be so nervous to tell me?” Jake cleared his throat. “Saxon’s traveled a lot. They used to do these trips when we were younger, back when we were friends.”

  “Oh.” Jake only seemed reasonably upset about this, not freaking-out upset, and I felt a little relief that it wasn’t going to be a big deal.

  “Did he bother you at all?” Jake said each word carefully.

  Now it was time to lie a little. I needed to lie the kind of lie that doesn’t hurt the other person and makes life easier all around. It’s not quite a white lie. Maybe it would be safest to call it a gray lie.

  “No,” I said simply. And I said the most comforting thing I could think to say. “There are a lot of other kids on the trip, so I’ll probably hardly see him.”

  “Good.” Jake sounded decisive, like he was determined to make the situation ‘good’ even if it kind of sucked. He wasn’t a complete angel, and I didn’t really expect it. From his perspective, Saxon was all bad. Jake tended to be much more black-and-white about things than I was, and Saxon was definitely all black in his book.

  “I’m excited to explore our street tomorrow.” I got off the bed and went to my window so I could peer at the sloped tin roofs and the cobblestoned streets below.

  “Hey, I have a surprise for you.” Jake sounded excited. “Can you log onto your Facebook page?”

  “I can.” Jake’s enthusiasm spread to me. I plugged my adapter into the wall and flipped my laptop on. The dorms got WiFi access, so logging in was quick. “Okay, what now?”

  “Check out my page, under the pictures.”

  He had changed his profile picture from one of him standing against his dirt bike to one of the two of us that my friend Kelsie had taken at a Folly show. I liked that he was advertising our togetherness. Jake’s shady past with girls coupled with his seeming irresistibility to the female gender made him really susceptible to flirting, especially cyber flirting. His entire comment section was clogged with girls sending him ridiculous glittery lips and cyber kisses and sexy e-cards and bumper stickers. It made me cringe whenever I went on his page.

  I ignored the new kiss invites and ‘Just thinking of u!’ messages surrounded by blinking hearts and clicked on his picture link.

  There was an album entitled “Brenna Is Gone  !”.

  I laughed. “I like your little sad face.”

  “Don’t toy with my emotions, woman.” I could hear his smile.

  I saw the first picture. It was the sun rising over the lake behind his house, the black branches of the trees dripping with rain.

  “I like the first picture.” It was very dreary and damp looking, but that was the reality of winter in New Jersey.

  “It’s like everything’s crying because you’re gone,” he explained.

  “I get it.” It was so adorably metaphoric, I couldn’t keep the giggle down. “Even sadder than your little sad face.”

  “Are you mocking me, evil girl? I put a lot of thought into this. I guess I’m going to throw out your homemade valentine and the love poems I wrote.”

  “Did you really make that stuff?” Even though it was cheesy, I was dying with curiosity to see what Jake would make and write for me.

  “No. But I might have if you didn’t tease my attempts,” he pouted cutely. After a second, he added, “And I still might.”

  The second picture was my bike, leaned against the garage.

  “Oh no! I forgot to put it in!” I imagined my poor bike rusting away as Thorsten lounged in his underwear, oblivious of my oversight.

  “I put it in. I stopped by to drop off some apple tarts to Thorsten and saw it sitting there.”

  “Well, now that I know the whole story, that picture doesn’t make me sad.” I sighed with relief, happy that I could depend on Jake, even across the ocean. “And it’s sweet that you brought over apple tarts. If we ever broke up, Thorsten would never talk to me again.”

  “Better keep me around, then.” His voice had a tinge of worry in it, but I ignored that.

  I clicked on the third picture. It was Thorsten, smiling with a box of apple tarts in his hand.

  I laughed out loud. “That’s excellent! Mom will love it. Jake, this is really awesome. I didn’t even know you like to take pictures.”

  “I wanted to keep in touch with you, but I’m not a really good writer, so I thought I’d take some pictures. Like to show how I’m missing you.” He laughed self-consciously.

  “I love it.” I did. It was the perfect gesture. “I’ll put some of Paris up for you tomorrow. Remember, I’m in a different time zone.”

  “I have my watch set.” He sighed. “And it’s late in Paris. You should probably get some rest.”

  “I guess.” My heart sank a little. I just didn’t want to be alone, and I didn’t want to get off the phone with Jake. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too. And I miss you already.” His voice fell by a few octaves. “I can’t wait until you get home.”

  “Bye, Jake.”

  “Buona notte.” It sounded for a minute like he had put his Italian cousin on the phone.

  “Jake!” Would this boy ever cease to amaze me?

  “I got a good Italian CD set out of the library.” He sounded very pleased with himself.

  “You go to the library?” There was so much about Jake I didn’t know.

  “I’m a man of great mystery. Get some rest, Bren.”

  We clicked off, and I found myself still surprised that he had gone to the library on his own and gotten a CD to start learning Italian. He really was shockingly full of surprises.

  I set up my laptop and was listening to the mix Jake made me when I saw a piece of paper poking under the door of my room. I opened the door and Saxon was bent over, his face turned up in surprise.

  “I thought you were sleeping.” The look on his face told me he was glad that I wasn’t. Saxon didn’t bother to stand up. He balanced on the balls of his feet like he had meant for me to see him crouched over when I opened the door. I crossed my arms and leaned against the doorway, refusing to ask him in.

  “I thought about it, but I guess I got a second wind. I was just putting my stuff away.”

  “Let me help,” he offered.

  “Help me put away my clothes?” I raised my eyebrow. “Why would I need help with that?”

  “Your bras and panties might need organizing. Friend.” His smile was infectious.

  “No thanks.” I stepped back.

  “The moon is almost full tonight.” Saxon stuck his hand out as I tried to close the door. “Let’s go roam Paris.”

  “It’s probably freezing.” I looked over my shoulder at the bleak, gray sky outside, getting darker by the minute. I could already see the almost-round moon shining palely.

  He narrowed his eyes at me. “It’s cold,” he allowed. “I never pegged you for a wuss, Blix.”

  I looked down at him and considered pushing him over and shutting the door in his face. “Because I don’t want to run around a city in the dead of night with some doofus?”

  “You want to.” He rolled from the balls of his feet to his knees and grabbed at the edge of my shirt. “C’mon. You’ll love it.”

  “I don’t know…” I glanced nervously at Mom’s door.

  “We’ll leave a note. We’ll take our cell phones. I’ll buy you something to eat.” He grabbed my hand and pulled at me, begging shamelessly.

>   It made me laugh. It was so unlike the Saxon I knew back home, it didn’t even seem like it could be the same guy. And he was promising me food. How could I say no? “Okay. Let me write a note to Mom.” I was a little nervous, but Mom would understand. She and Thorsten had always encouraged me to go and explore on my own in Denmark. They felt like Europe was this really safe, fun place, so I tried to rationalize that they would want me to go out with Saxon.

  Alone. At night. In a city we didn’t know.

  He stood close, and I closed my eyes against the tingly feeling of need that reverberated through me. Thoughts of kissing him went through my head again, no matter how hard I tried to push them away. He dipped his head so close, we might have kissed. I might have let him kiss me, but he was the one who pulled back.

  “Grab a jacket.” He sounded completely relaxed, but his hand was clamped in a tight fist at his side.

  My breath ripped in and out of my lungs too fast, and I felt the clash of guilt, desire, confusion, and worry echo in my brain. Part of me wanted to tell him that I’d changed my mind, but that would be like confessing that there was something wrong. It would mean facing the awful, strangling feelings that tangled through me, and I was all for denial instead.

  “No problem.” I shrugged like my heart wasn’t a train wreck. “Let me grab one.” I groped through my clothes for longer than necessary, trying to get my equilibrium back.

  We crept down the steps quietly, snuck out the door and were outside in the cold city air. My heart pounded in my chest as we walked away from the dorm. I grabbed Saxon’s arm without really thinking. He draped it over my shoulders casually, and we walked down the wide sidewalk with our bodies pressed close together. I knew what a mistake it was, knew it was pushing my already shaky limits, but something in me couldn’t stop it. I needed to prove to myself that I was in control of all of this.

  Saxon was the kind of guy who never, ever looked like he was lost or late or rushed. He always gave off this impression that he was exactly where he wanted to be, when he wanted to be, because that was the only place on earth that held any appeal to him. We walked along the street and he was so confident, I followed him without a second thought. I didn’t even pay attention to signs and landmarks the way I usually would. If he didn’t know where he was going, he was doing such a good job of faking it that I didn’t question him.