was just so pathetic. She let guys use her. She made them the center of her life; she gave up her own dreams and ambitions…and for what?
So that they could walk away when they got bored?
I had a sudden flash of the way Jax had all but run out the door after that epic kiss. The way he’d avoided me in the halls on Friday. Of the weird one-word responses to my texts this weekend…
I swallowed a thick lump as I reached for the hairspray. I held my chin high, because there was no way I’d let my mom see how much her words had hit home.
I’d never let her see that she was right.
But more than anything…I’d never become her.
I’d go tonight. I’d enjoy the hell out of my first real date. I’d take as many kisses as I could and store away each and every memory.
One week. I’d give myself one week and then I’d end it…
I’d walk away before he ever could.
13
Rose
It was with weary resignation that I followed Jax to his car and got in, making a production out of turning on my phone and texting Hannah to see if I could crash at her place.
She didn’t reply right away and I ran out of things to do on my phone.
When I looked up we were heading down the winding road in silence. I recognized the song that we were listening to. “So…” I shifted so I was half facing him, which put even more distance between us and allowed me to breathe.
He wasn’t a huge guy, but he took up the space around him. He had presence.
Back when I was a kid I’d been a munchkin in a regional performance of Wizard of Oz. My director was the first person who taught me about presence—who had it, who didn’t, how to create it.
Some people, like me, learned it. We studied it. We watched famous people and emulated them at every turn.
People like Jax…
I narrowed my eyes as I studied him. It probably came naturally to him. He took it for granted like he did the chiseled jaw and the dark, brooding eyes.
Jerk.
He glanced over at me with arched brows. “So…” he repeated when I failed to say anything more.
“Do you always drive around listening to your own band’s demo album?” I asked as mildly as possible. It still came out sounding snide.
“Ah,” he said. “So you recognize it.”
I frowned because…shoot. I’d forgotten that I’d pretended that I’d never heard of them. I lifted one shoulder. “You just told me all about your band, remember?” I feigned a rude yawn. “You told me all about it.”
His expression was one of amusement and shock. “Because you asked.”
“Uh huh.”
He shot me a look. “But that doesn’t explain how you recognized the song.”
I met his stare evenly until he had to look back to the road. “Tell me, Rose Parson. What else have you lied about?”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed. He had some nerve accusing me of being the liar here. “Good question,” I said, lounging back against the window behind me. “You first.”
He gave his head a little shake. “I don’t get it. I really don’t. One minute you’re all sweet and giggly, and the next you’re…” He waved a hand toward me. “This.”
I kept silent.
He shot me a sidelong look. “Which one is the real Rose, hmm?”
I ignored that as well. He wouldn’t know the real Rose if she slapped him upside the head. I turned my head to face the road.
“Are you, like…a compulsive liar or something? Is that it?” he asked.
I inhaled quickly and it made a hissing sound. “I could ask you the same,” I said.
I felt his gaze on the side of my face. “Did I do something? Because last I remember, we were having fun.”
I scoffed. Fun. Right. Sure he was fun to flirt with, but not when the entire time he was talking I had to keep reminding myself that none of it was real. That he was just using me.
“Is anything with you real?” The frustration in his voice had me tensing, glancing over at him.
He was frowning at the road like it had just insulted him, his hands clenching the wheel so tightly his knuckles were white.
I was pissing him off.
Well, good. Get used to it. It had been a mistake to try and play his game, and I had every intention of telling him that.
“Is this why you’re such a good actress?” he said. “Because you just