“Can I go to the bathroom first? I’m, well, I’m on my period.” I try to fake embarrassment, but he’s not buying it. I’ve never been a very convincing liar and I’m wishing more than anything I’d worked on the skill. “And I really have to pee,” I add.
He rolls his eyes and follows me to the bathroom, and it takes a moment before I realize he’s planning to stand there while I go. I didn’t really have a plan, I guess I thought I might be able to text someone, but just then there’s a knock at the door, and Clayton immediately covers my mouth with his hand before I even think to yell.
The next sixty seconds happen so fast, I have no time to react. Someone tries to open the door but is blocked by the dead bolt. Clayton’s hand tightens around my mouth and I’m not only unable to speak, but I’m also having difficulty breathing. I don’t think he realizes he’s covering my nostrils, too. I attempt to claw at his hands but he squeezes a huge arm around my own, and I’m stuck in place, trying desperately to move my head back and forth to communicate that I can’t breathe, but Clayton’s focused on the door. There’s a loud crash, and suddenly his hands are off of me, and I gasp for air.
Clayton darts for someone and I’m blinking through blurry eyes. There’s a guy standing there, mouth agape, wearing a Marriott polo shirt, and he’s watching something. In slow motion, I turn to see Clayton pinning Jace to the ground, but in the next moment Clayton’s crashed into the television, and Jace is over him.
Their movements are violent and furious and I just stand there, in some sort of shock, unable to speak or react, for who knows how long, before uniformed officers are there, breaking them up. When they start to put Jace in handcuffs, I snap out of it.
“No! No, he’s the one who saved me,” I blurt out, but no one’s listening. A strong arm goes around me, and there’s Frankie, the biggest person in the room, holding onto me.
“Shhh… Pepper, we’ll get this worked out, okay? Don’t worry.”
The guy in the polo shirt and Frankie talk to the three officers, and the room feels much too crowded, like we might not all get enough oxygen if someone doesn’t step out. Clayton’s gaze burns through me but I refuse to look at him. What is he thinking now? How could I have been so blind about him? I’m starting to shake, knowing he’s watching me, and even though he’s handcuffed and restrained by an officer, I don’t want to be anywhere near him, and I push away from Frankie until I’m alone in the hallway, sucking in air in giant gulps.
When I finally look up, I realize there are a couple of people poking their heads out of the hotel rooms curiously, wanting to see the show. I’m tempted to run and hide because I don’t want these strangers using my life, the horror that just happened, almost happened, as a juicy story to tell to their friends. I don’t want them to see Jace and recognize him and say things about him that aren’t true. But then he comes out of the room, looks at me and wraps me in his arms and none of it matters anymore.
At my urging, Jace plays in his last collegiate home game only a couple of hours later. We’re asked a lot of questions by the Brockton police until Detective Marshall shows up and asks all of the same questions again. Clayton must have been escorted out when I was in Jace’s arms, because I didn’t see him again. I actually went to the game with my housemates, and though they got a short rundown on what happened, we cheered and acted almost normal. I didn’t take my eyes off Jace the whole game, somehow afraid he’d disappear if I did.
But I’ve got him alone now, finally, and we’re lying on our backs on my bed at Shadow Lane.
“You can get rid of the air mattress at purple house,” I tell him. We’re both staring at the ceiling, which makes it easier to talk. Otherwise I’d just crawl into him and forget about the important words I need to say.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, I was going to tell you that before any of that happened today. After my run, I guess I had an epiphany. And then, when I was alone in the hotel room with Clayton, I had another one.”
He reaches for my hand. “You’ve had quite a day, huh? Tell me about your epiphanies.”
“This summer, you said something about fear, and you were right. At races, when I hit that point where it’s really hard, I haven’t been pushing through it like I used to.”
“But you did today, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, and it was awesome. I don’t know, it isn’t the same thing with us, but it just seems like it’s time to stop hesitating and asking the ‘what-ifs.’ There’s always a chance that something will happen, it always seems to with us, but I want to go for it anyway.”
“Are the ‘what-ifs’ about me? Do you think I’ll hurt you again?”
“That brings me to my other epiphany,” I say, turning to face him now. “See, I’ve always had this weird feeling about Clayton. He made me uneasy and I couldn’t pinpoint why, but I didn’t trust him. He’d never done anything specifically to me that would cause me to be wary of him. At least, nothing I was aware of. But it was just this feeling.”
Jace’s hand is squeezing mine hard, and I realize I need to get to the point to put him out of his misery. “And with you, it’s somehow the opposite. My gut feelings for you are good ones, and I get all happy when I’m with you even though I know I shouldn’t. Even though you’ve given me a lot of reasons not to trust you, I can’t help but trust you anyway.”
“You trust me?”
“Of course I do. Can’t you see that?”
“But you’ve been different with me. Not as open. And with Veronica – you believed her, didn’t you? Until Clayton told you he set it up.”
“No, I don’t think I ever believed her, Jace. And I’ve tried to keep you at a distance because I was afraid you’d hurt me, but I’ve always trusted you.”
“That doesn’t make sense. You’re saying you didn’t trust me not to hurt you.”
“Okay, yeah, maybe that part is right, but I trust you in every other way.”
Jace closes his eyes briefly, and he looks anguished, but I don’t understand why. Aren’t I delivering good news, the news he’s been hoping to hear?
“What will it take for you to trust me in every way?”
“I don’t know. Time, I guess. I suppose I’ve still been angry with you, and I think I’m letting that go, too, especially now that I think I actually want to let it go. It’s been a little bit of a protective armor, maybe, keeping me safe from you.” We both chuckle at that for some reason.
“You thought anger would protect you from me?” he teases, but I won’t let us get off track. I’ve got a point to make.
“What I’m saying is that I want to get there. It won’t happen right away, but it will eventually, and I’m willing to work through it. I don’t think we can go back to where we were before Annie left, but maybe if we work through it we’ll get to an even better place someday.”
And that’s enough for now, apparently, because Jace decides we’ve had enough talking for the night, and I’m right there with him.