weekend? So much evidence keeps popping up, I can’t track it all.”
“I wasn’t on my phone much yesterday. I was busy cleaning up after our party. You are all a bunch of messy motherfuckers.” Jackson laughs. I glare. “And then I went to dinner with my dad, which was a total fiasco. He called me insubordinate—I don’t even know what the hell that means—and that I give my mother endless shit. Gave me a big old lecture, forced me to promise I would do better, I agreed, and that asshole still took my phone away from me. I’m phoneless.” Told me if I was such a big man who wouldn’t listen to reason, then maybe I could pay for my own phone. The bastard.
Jackson rolls his eyes. “Parents suck,” he says, as he starts swiping on his phone, going in and out of apps. He turns his phone in my direction and shows me a story that’s been screen recorded with me sitting in the background, getting that lap dance from Josie.
“Are you the one who screen recorded this?” I ask him. It seems like such a girl thing to do.
“Nope.”
“Why are you showing it to me? What’s it got to do with me and Ava?” I’m irritated just watching it. You can tell by my expression I’m drunk as hell and barely staying upright. Josie is really working it, but for the most part, I look pretty bored. Or ready to pass out.
“I heard Ava saw that video and lost her damn mind,” Jackson says.
I shake my head, thoroughly confused. “Where are you hearing this stuff?”
“I have sources,” he says ominously. “Now. Then there’s this.” He shows me a photo. It’s taken from a distance, like across the football field, and you can see me and Ava on the sidelines, my arms wrapped tightly around her, her head pressed against my chest. Her comforting me after that colossal loss. My heart fucking aches just looking at it, because we were different then. Before her brother said all that shit and made me come for him.
Well, I could’ve controlled my impulses, but at that moment, it felt so goddamn right to kick his ass, I went on pure instinct.
“Where did you find this? Who’s seen this photo?” I ask.
“Not sure. It was posted on someone’s Snap story and then taken down within the hour.” Jackson sends me a pointed look. “There are spies everywhere. And there are people watching you and Ava. Very closely, especially now.”
We’re sitting with a few other friends, including Brenden who’s ready to spring away from the table at any given moment the second he sees Kayla enter the quad. God knows where she’s at. Jackson and I are sitting at the end of the table, a little distance between us and the rest of the group. I glance around to see if anyone’s listening to our conversation, then lower my voice. “Ava and I aren’t even together right now. Like I told you—”
“Yeah, yeah you’re on a break,” Jackson says, waving a hand. “What the hell ever. You guys are so done.”
I sit up straighter. “No, we’re not.”
“You totally are. The fact that you don’t have your phone right now? Makes it worse,” he says firmly. “You can’t even communicate with her. Your ship has sailed. It’s over.”
“Jackson, shut the fuck up. Go…sing a song for one of your groupies,” I mutter. I reach into the chip bag only to come up empty, which pisses me off further. I crumple the bag and toss it right at Jackson’s smug face.
“What the hell is wrong with you? You can usually come up with some pretty good shit to say. Right now, you’re weak. Like a baby kitten.” Jackson grabs the crumpled bag and throws it back at me. I bat it away with my hand before it hits my face. “Grow some balls, man. If anyone asks you about Ava, tell them to fuck the hell right off. And if you still want her, forget this ‘we’re on a break’ bullshit. Go to her and tell her how you feel.”
Nope. Can’t do it. I might’ve been weak as a baby kitten when I sent her that text Saturday night, but that was a slip. A drunken mishap when I was overcome with jealousy over seeing her with that Wyatt douche.
If I went to her and told her how I felt, I’d probably push her against the wall and kiss the shit out of her. Maybe even