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Chapter EIGHT

In the cool, cloudy evening, I'm making peanut butter cracker sandwiches and listening to the radio when I hear a motorcycle outside. It's Rick, of course, and for a long minute I wonder if I can just pretend I'm not here. I shut off the radio and sit down in the kitchen with my crackers. He can't see me here-the window is too high.

"Jess!" he calls, banging on the screen door hard enough that I'm worried he might break it. It's just an old wooden door, and I've had to reattach the screen in a couple of places already.

Still, I really don't want to talk to him.

I eat another cracker. He bangs on the door, yells my name again. "Come on, babe! I just want to talk to you. What kind of person breaks up in a text?"

We broke up last night, I think, but he's not going to go away. With a sigh, I pick up another peanut butter cracker sandwich and open the door.

"What?" I stand in the doorway to block him from coming in.

"Babe!" He looks so happy and so sad at the same time that it makes me feel terrible. His eyes are shining, almost like he's been crying. "Let me come in and let's talk."

"I don't want to talk, Rick. I'm tired of this drama all the time. I'm tired of breaking up and getting back together." I take a breath. "I'm tired of the bars, and spending all of our time with the band and drinking and partying. I don't want to do that anymore."

He lunges forward to grab my hand. "That's fine, babe. I'll do whatever you want. I'll quit the band if you want."

"Stop calling me babe!" I snap.

"Jess, then. Come on."

"Don't be crazy, Rick. You love the band and everything that goes along with it. You should find somebody else who loves it, too."

"I don't want anybody else!" His dark eyes are pleading, and I notice there are circles underneath them. There are whiskers showing on his chin, like he hasn't shaved. "You're the only one I want." His fingers tighten. "I'm really sorry about last night!"

"It's too late." I extract my hand. "Go home, Rick."

He leaps on the step and grabs me. "No! I love you." He knocks me off balance, and I stumble off the step, twisting my ankle. I have to grab him to keep from falling on my face, and it makes me mad, but before I can get free, he's kissing my face, my neck, tangling his hands in my hair.

"Stop it!" I break free, pushing him away. "Leave me alone!" I wipe his spit off my face, pull strands of hair away from where they stick to my neck. "It's over."

"Babe! Come on! You can't be serious!"

"Go." I back up, reaching for the screen door.

A car is rolling down the alley, and we both look over as it stops by my driveway. "Everything ok?"

I'm shocked and thrilled and worried to see that it's Tyler in his sleek black car. I glance at Rick. Give Tyler a shaky nod. "It's fine."

"I brought your library books back." He looks at me, then at Rick, who has a nasty expression on his face. "You left them in my car."

Oh, this is not good.

"Are you fuckin' my girl, man?" Rick flies toward the car, yanking at the door handle, and before I can tell what's really happening, Tyler is out and Rick is pummeling him like a crazy man. I fly over, grabbing at the back of Rick's shirt.

"Rick, stop it. He just gave me a ride."

But Tyler has already swung a punch of his own, and it's no rich boy swing-there's power behind it. When fist connects with jaw, there's a hollow rattle, and Rick goes flying sideways into a reddish puddle.