Six years later . . .
Present time.
✿♡ JAZZLENE ♡✿
I sat silently at the bus stop shelter, clutching my phone, debating whether I should call my brother, Zane, to come get me. Tears streamed down my face, and my body shivered from the cold because I was drenched. Not from rain—there wasn't any.
It's just that I was wearing a two-piece swimsuit, soaked, with only a T-shirt over it because my friends and I had a get-together. Camille, Violet, Leigh, and I had this tradition of bonding after exams to unwind from the stress. We checked into a lesser-known hotel and resort, preferring places less frequented by people because Camille, being a famous actress, couldn't be exposed to the public.
The four of us were dressed and already in the swimming pool when I noticed someone nearby. The pool was surrounded by tall plants, about waist-high, but through a gap, I saw Dominic. my boyfriend, and here's the worst part: he was flirting with someone I never imagined he'd go for. Guess what and who?
A GUY. Yeah!
The way they held hands made it clear they weren't just friends or acquaintances. There was something between them! It was undeniable from the way they looked at and smiled at each other.
I was hurt. So hurt. My whole body felt weak, and I couldn't handle it. I climbed out of the pool and made an excuse to my friends, saying I felt sick and wanted to go home. They were worried at first and wanted to accompany me to our room, but I insisted on going alone. I needed to cry alone.
I grabbed my phone from the sun lounge and managed to leave without further insistence from them. But on my way to our room, I heard someone call my name.
"Jazzlene?"
When I looked back, I froze. It was him—Dominic, the shameless jerk, with the guy he was with earlier, who was about his age. I glanced at their intertwined hands, and they quickly let go when Dominic noticed.
"Babe—"
"Don't babe me!" I yelled, cutting him off. I was already crying. My body trembled with anger. "You're disgusting, Dom! All this time, you were just pretending to be straight?!" My tears flowed freely. It would have been less painful if he had cheated with a girl, but it hurt more because it was a guy. Why? What was lacking in me? I have breasts and a vagina! This guy doesn't! So, why?!
"Babe, I... I..." he stammered. He stepped closer, trying to reach for my hand, but I pulled away and slapped him hard.
I saw my palm's imprint on his cheek. Before he could speak, I grabbed the white T-shirt hanging on his shoulder and ran away, out of the hotel.
As I ran, I draped the T-shirt over my two-piece swimsuit. I was barefoot and didn't know where to go. But one thing was certain: I couldn't go back to our room. If my friends saw me crying, World War Four would definitely start.
So now, I'm stuck here at the bus stop.
I mentally scrolled through my limited options. First, no buses passed this place on weekends. No taxis either. Second, even if one showed up, I didn't have my wallet. It was in the room. Third, if I took a taxi looking like this, I might end up in danger. My legs were exposed, and my wet T-shirt clung to my body, making me vulnerable.
I had one option left—one I really didn't want to take—but beggars couldn't be choosers, right? So, I pulled up the contact in my phone, said a silent prayer, and pressed the call button.
One ring.
Two rings.
Three rings.
Still no answer.
Bro, answer the phone!
I wasn't sure which would be worse: being in danger here or facing my brother's wrath when he found out what happened and my stupidity in choosing boyfriends. He would probably punch me in the face this time. But I'd deal with that later.
"Hey. What's wrong?"
I sighed in relief when he finally answered. "What's wrong? What makes you think something is wrong?"
He snorted. "Because you called me. You never call unless you've done something stupid or you're near death."
True. I rarely called him. We preferred texting or chatting when necessary or in emergencies. Sometimes, if I was too lazy to type, I'd send a voice message. We didn't need to text often since we lived under the same roof with our parents.
"My dear brother . . ." I started, not knowing how to continue. He knew Dominic. I introduced him six months ago when Dominic started courting me. Zane didn't like him. He said there was something off about Dominic. He was sure Dominic would do something stupid, but I didn't listen. I told him he was being judgmental. Now, I guess he was right. "I'll tell you later. For now, can you pick me up? I'm stranded, and I need your help."
"Stranded? What? Where? What stupid thing did you do now, Jazz?" He sounded pissed, and I rolled my eyes. This was how we were as siblings. We were used to calling each other "stupid" or "idiot" or saying, "you're so stupid," or, "you did something stupid again." That's how close we were.
"I didn't do anything." My voice weakened with sadness. I wanted to say Dominic was the one who did something stupid, but I was too hurt to talk about it.
"Where are you?" I heard laughter from men on the other line and recognized some of the voices. It seemed he was with his friends. Wasn't he home?
I sighed deeply before telling him where I was, followed by him saying, "I can't pick you up. David took my car with Gerald to pick up Henry. Just stay there, someone will be there in a minute. We'll talk about your stupidity when you get home."
"What stupidity—hey! Zane!" I couldn't finish because he hung up. I was already sad and hurt, and now he made me feel worse. Did he have to call me stupid now?
But I couldn't blame him. He knew what happened with Vince and my ex-best friend Jenna. He was furious, not just at me but especially at my ex and my enabler friends. While Mom and Dad comforted me, he scolded me. He even warned me not to communicate with Sheena and Abigail, which is why I haven't heard from them since. I only know they're graduating like me but at a different school. Even my ex-boyfriend Vince, I have no news about except that he broke up with Jenna. Serves them right.
And the reason Zane found out about it back then was because his icy friend snitched on me. Adam. That's why I couldn't blame Zane for being strict and overprotective. He always said, "You're twenty-one, but you act like a four-year-old!"
But one reason he was overprotective was because I was his only sibling. Our supposed youngest sibling didn't survive as a baby. She was born prematurely and didn't make it. Maybe if she had survived, we would be closer, especially since she would have been a girl. I'd have had someone to talk girl stuff with.
My brother Zane and I were opposites, despite being close. We disagreed on many things. I wasn't unpopular per se, but I avoided the limelight and preferred a small group of close friends rather than a large group of acquaintances. My brother Zane loved attention. He was the life of the party. Without him, his group was lifeless. He was also the male version of a gossip. Why? Because with so many girlfriends, he gathered a lot of news, which he shared with his friends.
Speaking of friends . . . wait.
He said he can't pick me up. David took his car with Gerald to pick up Henry. But he said, someone, which he referred as 'he' will be here in a minute. Who's the "he" coming to get me? David and Gerald were with Henry. There were five of them. That means . . .
I bowed my head as the bright headlights of a car blinded me. When my eyes adjusted, I slumped with relief.
Good news? I recognized the dark red Lamborghini pulling up. It belonged to one of Zane's friends, so I knew I'd be rescued and taken home.
Bad news? The person driving was the last one I wanted or expected to pick me up.
Adam Meadows.
The cold and arrogant guy I kissed six years ago.