Mismatch - By Nana Malone Page 0,75
outsider was the way to stand out. Then I got older and liked my misfit crowd. I sorta didn't need the trappings anymore.”
“No reason you can’t have the crowd without the trappings. And hate to break it to you, but with that body and that pale blond hair, you stand out no matter what you do. You didn’t need all this other stuff.”
“Yeah, I know.” She shrugged. “I met Eli, and I sort of wanted him to see me. Like me without all this stuff on me, ya know. Just me.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Boisterous male voices echoed down the halls and then abruptly halted. Through her tears, Jessica saw Jason and Nick both wearing horrified expressions and Aaron who surprisingly had a look of murder and concern on his face. Hmm, well go figure, he didn't hate her after all.
Izzy waved them away. “Nothing to see here, fellas. Take yourselves on into the game room or courts, we're having a girls’ moment. Any minute, we're going to start singing jingles from tampon commercials.”
If the tears hadn’t done them in that certainly did. They all fled.
“You know how to clear a room.”
“My bad ass bestie taught me that.”
“Not feeling so bad ass right about now.”
“Well, honey, if you love him, then I don’t see any reason you shouldn’t be with him. But you guys need to have a couple of conversations about what you’re comfortable with and what you’re not comfortable with.”
“But he has to work, Iz. I don't want to get in the way of that.”
“Dude, have you ever considered being his model? I mean come on. That resolves the problem if he continues to do these, erm, uh, exhibitions.”
Jessica frowned. No, she'd never considered being his model. “I guess it never crossed my mind.”
“Because you were so focused on running.”
“But I love him, why would I run?”
“Because, by your own admission, you've never been in love. That shit is frightening. You remember how bad I nearly fucked it up.”
Thinking back to how Izzy hadn’t told Jason she was pregnant at first and almost lost Nick to his crazy bio mom, Jessica shuddered. “Is this how it always happens?”
“Don't know. Only really been in love once. I feel for anyone going through it.”
“It sucks.”
“Hear, hear, sister. Now, what are you going to do about getting your man back?”
***
Before going to find Eli, Jessica made a stop at her mother’s. She regretted the decision the moment Michael answered the door.
After the awkward pleasantries, she opted to address him head on. “You know, maybe I can’t get rid of you. But the thing you'll have to understand is you can’t get rid of me. I’m her daughter. Plus I'm in control of the finances. I hope Mom mentioned that.”
Michael’s face grew redder and redder, and she was sure he'd explode. “I love your mother.”
“So I keep hearing. The funny thing I’m learning about love is that you’d be willing to give it up if it meant making the other person happy in the long run.”
“Jessica, is that you darling?”
Jessica scowled at Michael and followed the sound of her mother's voice into the kitchen. “Yeah, it's me, Mom.”
“You’re not out there fighting with Michael again, are you? I really want you two to try and get along.”
Jessica hated waiting for Eli's friends to find something to pin on the guy. That could take months and months and months. “No, Mom, that's actually why I’m here.”
Her mother's brows went up. “Oh?”
“I wanted to apologize.”
Her mother frowned.
“For being a brat. For acting out when Daddy died. For making your life hell.”
“My life was a lot of things, baby girl, but it was never hell.” She cocked her head. “What prompted this?”
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately.”
“When you're protecting something you love, it's understandable if you get a little unreasonable.”
“So you’re not mad? I promise—I don’t like Michael, and I don’t trust him, but you’re grown and can make your own decisions.”
She beamed. “Oh, baby, you mean that?”
Jessica nodded. The chirping birds of her phone had her looking toward the living room. “Sorry, Mom, let me grab that.”
She jogged out, only to see that it was Izzy calling. She’d call her back after dinner with her mother. Michael was still in the living room in front of the television, and he was wiping his glasses. She studied him hard. How could she have been so wrong about him? He hadn’t tipped a single card. “You know, Michael, do you know anyone who drives an Oldsmobile?”
He