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“That’s his business if he wants to?—”
“It’s not. It’s your future. It’s your business. His job is to shut his mouth and support?—”
“You’re still doing it! Right now! It blows my mind how incredibly rude you are. I sort of thought it was cool at first, like, ‘Oh wow, look at this girl who’ll speak her mind and say whatever she wants,’ but it’s not cool, Jade. Not every thought that comes to your mind needs to be said out?—”
“If you don’t like it, then don’t invite me places. If I embarrass you, don’t fucking hang out with me. I am who I am, and I’m not going to apologize.”
At this point, the distance we’ve created is pointless, because our volume gets louder with every sentence. Ian’s eyes dart to the group and then back to me. His neck is covered in red splotches, and he looks on the verge of tears. When I glanceover at the tailgate, though, mostly everyone is making a very pointed effort not to look at us, except for Jessie. We make brief eye contact and she starts to walk over. I meet her partway, and she holds me gently by the arms. My phone starts to buzz in my pocket, but through my jeans I click the side button to silence the vibrations without checking to see who’s calling.
Whoever it is can wait.
“Mac’s friends texted, so we’re going to head to the game. Are you coming? You can sit with us? Save me from the sportsball?” she whispers quickly.
I give her a weak smile and shake my head. “I think I’m going to call it a night.”
Jessie pulls me into a hug. I hug her back, feeling all the fight in me leave.
“Love you,” she says, planting a kiss on my cheek and running back to Mac. They wave to Ian and take off toward the stadium.
Most of the tent and the tailgate is put away now. Ian’s dad and his friends are cleaning up, chatting with a few of the people walking toward the game and handing out the extra water bottles they have.
I walk back to Ian, keeping about an arm’s length of distance between us. My phone starts to buzz again, and again, I ignore it.
“I like who you are, Jade,” Ian says, softer now. He steps closer to me, unfolding his arms and stuffing his hands in his pockets. “But I don’t have to like how you behaved today.”
I step closer to him, teeth clenched. The fight I thought had left me rushes back all at once. “I am not your girlfriend, and I don’t have tobehaveany particular way. Not around you, not around your parents, not around anyone.”
“Okay, Jade,” Ian says, shaking his head and putting his hands up. “I’m not gonna fight with you.”
“I’m not trying to fight with you,” I say. “You have this idealized version of me in your head, and that’s the girl you brought to the tailgate today. But I’m not her. I want you to see who I am, not who you want me to be.”
Ian is shaking his head and pinching his lips together. His neck is starting to splotch again, and his shoulders are practically touching his ears.
“You know what? Let’s just . . .” He puts his hands in the air like he’s surrendering. “I’m going to the game with my dad. I will . . . see you later. At rehearsal next week or something.”
He walks back to rejoin his dad, and I turn to leave too, but my phone is buzzing again.
Who the fuck is calling me this incessantly?
Fumbling to get it out of my pocket, and dropping it once it’s actually out, I eventually see a second too late that my mom called. That my mom has called four times. That I have about fifteen unread messages from her.
There’s a floating feeling in my stomach, like someone tossed it into the ocean and it’s about to sink to the bottom.
I don’t have to read a single text to know why she called and what her messages will say.
In slow motion, I turn back to Ian, who’s laughing and smiling with his dad.
My heart cracks open and falls into my stomach as I open my text messages.
Jade.
Jade please pick up.
Can you please call me??
Jade????
Rob left.
