Page 134 of A Perfect Fit

The beer burns my throat as I chug half the bottle down.

Did Mom cheat on Dad because he wasn’t good enough for her?

Fuck. The reason doesn’t matter. Mom was a cheater. That’s all.

And Andrew—how can he even face me at work and act as though everything were normal? He deserves a fucking Oscar for his performance.

“Never thought I’d see Jackson Carter day drinking.”

I immediately recognize the obnoxious voice of the person who’s sliding into the seat next to me and don’t bother looking at him. “Fuck off, Oliver.”

“What happened to you?” he prods. “You don’t look good.”

I take another swig of my beer, ignoring him. Aside from my mom and Andrew, he’s the last person I want to see right now.

“Did Isabelle finally dump you?”

Something in my stomach drops, and my beer freezes midair. That thought scares me more than anything.

“Isabelle and I are going strong,” I say. “Stop trying to stir shit.”

Oliver snickers. “If she sees you like this, maybe she’ll think twice.”

I finally jerk my head around to face him. “What the fuck is your problem, Morrison?” I say through clenched teeth.

“You,” Oliver hisses. “You had everything. You were student council president, speech and debate captain, captain of everything. Always top of the class, all the teachers loved you, everyone wanted to be your friend. Even Isabelle would talk about you, when she was my girlfriend.”

I stare at him in disbelief before a humorless laugh drips from my mouth. “You’re pathetic, Oliver.”

Oliver sneers, “No, you’re the pathetic one. You don’t know what it’s like to go out and chase your dreams because you had everything handed to you on a silver platter. You’d be nothing without your dad.”

Something akin to a heavy rock settles in the center of my chest. This time, I have nothing to say to him because he’s right.

A smirk pulls Oliver’s lips as he stands. “Maybe I don’t deserve Isabelle, but you sure don’t either.”

My body freezes. That possibility scares me more than anything. What if he’s right?

I reach for my beer again when Oliver leaves, my heart pounding.

Soon, one drink turns into two, then three. I’m not sure how much time passes. Maybe half an hour. Maybe an hour or five. Or maybe I’ve been sitting here my whole life.

“He’s over there!”

I turn around at the familiar voice, making out a murky image of Aaron and Isabelle racing toward me. Or maybe I’m only hallucinating.

“Oh my God, Jackson,” Isabelle breathes, standing beside me.

“Baby?” I slur. “Is that really you?”

She cups my face, and I lean into the warmth of her palm.

“It’s me,” she says, her voice sounding strained. “I’m here.”

“Let’s get you home,” Aaron adds. “Can you walk?”

Letting out a grunt, I stand and take a few unsteady steps ahead.

Aaron slings an arm around me, helping me with my balance. “Take it easy.”