Chapter 27 Grayce

“You and Jaxon went to a movie the other night?” Shawn asked. I looked up from my textbook, startled by the tone of his voice.
“Should I find it creepy that you know that?” I asked.
“I just find it a bit … weird,” he said and took a seat across from me.
“I find you a bit weird, too, but that’s old news,” I said. Shawn didn’t seem to find the humor in my joke.
“Even more bizarre was to find his face on the paper's front page holding an inappropriate inflatable of a woman’s genital in the air.”
“It was for the Women’s Rights ma—”
“I know what it was for,” Shawn said, cutting me off. “I don’t know why a guy like Jaxon Tate is advocating women’s rights when he just so happens to be the biggest sleazebag in our school.”
“Don’t do that,” I said. “You don’t know him like I do, Shawn. He’s different.”
“Different from what? Different from every other football jerk who has a penis for a brain and finds enjoyment in belittling other people?”
“He’s been nothing but decent to you,” I said. “You should show him the same respect.”
“He’s playing you,” Shawn snapped. He leaned forward, narrowing his eyes. “And you’re falling for him, so you can’t see what’s right in front of you.”
“I’m not falling for him. I know this is a strange concept to you, but it turns out I can have friends who aren’t you and Alex.”
“He’s not your friend, Grayce,” Shawn said. He was irritated now, his tone merely a hiss. “You’ll soon find that a guy like Jaxon Tate doesn’t change for the better. By then, you’ll be in too deep.”
“Enough.” I slammed my textbook shut and shoved the newspaper back at him. “You need to back off, Shawn, because recently, it’s been you lacking in the friend department.”
“Fine.” He raised his hands in the air and shrugged. Instead of sticking around to complain about it some more, he stood up and shrugged. “Just know people are starting to talk about you two . . . and it’s nothing good.”
Before I could respond to that, Shawn walked away, shoulders hunched like they always were. I watched him go, wondering why I cared so much what he and everyone else thought of my friendship with Jaxon Tate.
The library was quiet on this slow afternoon, the perfect place to get away and take some time for me. I’d always loved the library; it was a haven for me, a place of serenity and peace. Lately, I felt like I needed these moments alone more than ever.
As I scanned the shelves for sources for one of my classes, I heard a familiar voice on the other side of the many shelves of books. Jaxon, whose voice was undeniably loud and demanding, was in the middle of saying something to someone else. Much to my dismay, I perked up at once, and I was about to say hello when I heard my name roll off someone else's tongue. I stopped where I was, caught my breath, and then tip-toed down the aisle until I found a gap between the books. Sure enough, Jaxon and his idiot friend Tyler were deep in conversation, oblivious to anyone or anything around them.
“Grayce is a weirdo,” Tyler was saying. “She barely ever talks, and I’m pretty sure she’s a virgin.”
“Maybe you should try it sometime,” Jaxon said jokingly.
“I’m serious, bro,” Tyler pressed. “Enough is enough. People are starting to think that something is happening between the two of you.”
“Nothing is going on,” Jaxon said. His tone was defensive, and I found my palms going clammy. “I wouldn’t date Grayce Harrison if someone put a gun to my head.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear,” Tyler said, and the sound of them high-fiving made my stomach twist with the nauseating feeling of a crazy amusement park ride. I pressed myself against the wall of books, closing my eyes, trying to get my shit together before someone spotted me. Jaxon and Tyler were still deep in conversation, but I wasn’t listening. My heart was racing, blood roaring in my ears as I walked numbly back to my table and gathered my things. As I sneaked out of the library and headed home, Jaxon’s comment still rang in my ears.
I didn’t know why I was so surprised by the conversation that had just taken place. I should have expected he felt that way. I wasn’t his type, and he wasn’t mine. That had been clear from the beginning. So why did I care so much? Why was my skin flushed and my hands tingling? Why was my heart still beating loudly against my chest, and why did it seem to physically hurt above all?
Once I arrived home, I went straight to the freezer for the bottle of vodka that Alex kept tucked away for emergencies. I wasn’t in the mood to go to the bar. Tonight was a drinking-alone kind of night, and despite how much I hated myself—and Jaxon—at that moment, I wanted to drink it all away, no matter how petty that was. Alex wasn’t even at work. She was off on a date with that Kate girl from the party, so I was by myself. Fortunately, that was how I liked it. That’s how I’d always enjoyed it, and it was because I was best by myself. Always.
After grabbing a single shot glass from the cupboard, I sat on the couch with the liquor bottle tucked under one arm, trying not to notice how similar this was to a sad country-western song. Our cozy little home was quiet, but for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel at peace in it. All I could do as I sat and filled my little shot glass was wonder what was happening and why it was affecting my self-worth. Old Grayce wouldn’t care what a guy like Jaxon Tate thought of her. She would have marched up to the table and slapped him over the head, but this new Grayce slinked off like a coward as some guy’s hurtful words rang in her head. I’d only ever felt this feeling once before—the sensation of betrayal, distrust, and vehement hatred. Only one other man in my life had ever made me feel that way, and that had been my father.
I was six shots in when my phone rang. I looked at it, expecting Alex, but it wasn’t Alex. It was Jaxon. I didn’t know if it was the buzzing in my head from the alcohol or just the fact that I needed to scream at him, but I answered when I should have let it go.
“What do you want?”
“A yacht in the Bahamas and a hot fudge sundae,” Jaxon answered. “Why, what do you want?” I didn’t answer him. I couldn’t even crack a smile. Fury was burning in my chest, threatening to spill out at any moment, and just hearing his voice made me take another shot.
“How’s Tyler?” I asked. “I don’t hear about him much anymore.”
“Tyler is okay, I guess,” Jaxon said. He sounded puzzled, trying to figure out why I gave a flying fuck how his douchebag best friend was. “Are you okay? You sound different.”
“Do I?” I took another shot. I couldn’t even feel the sting as the liquor coated my throat. Even as drunk as I was, I could still hear how slurred my words were as I spoke them.
“Are you at the bar?” Jaxon asked. “Drinking?”
“I’m not at the bar, but I am drinking.”
“Where are you? I could use a drink, too.”
“I’m sure you could.” I had to resist the overwhelming urge to invite him over so that I could bloody his nose.
“Grayce?” Jaxon said. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything is fine,” I said. I closed my eyes, trying to ward off the dizziness that enveloped me suddenly.
“You don’t sound fine,” he said. “Where are you?”
“Hey, Jaxon?”
“What?”
“Don’t ever talk to me again.”