I push to standing, my chair scraping loudly against the tile floor. “Be right back.” I’m in the bedroom with the door shut in two seconds.
“Hello.” I’m afraid I’ve just missed Dana, and my finger hovers over the disconnect button when I hear her voice and sink to the edge of the bed in relief.
“J.J.?”
“Yeah. It’s me. Sorry I took so long to get to the phone.”
“That’s okay.” Dana clears her throat, and I cross my fingers.
“What’s up? Do you need me down at the set?”
“No, that’s not it. Listen.” She sighs, and a little thread of doubt starts weaving its way through my stomach. “We’re going to have to let you go.”
“What? Why?” My head is hot, and my vision goes fuzzy.
“You lied about your age. You gave us a fake ID, J.J.”
I open my mouth to deny it, but I can’t. Because I did exactly what she said.
“Look, didn’t you know that all you needed was a letter of consent from your parents?” She’s being nice to me. Nicer than I deserve. But what good will it do to tell her my parents wouldn’t have signed it?
“Yeah.”
“Well, I’m sorry, but I can’t do anything about it at this point. We really like you, and I wish you the best, okay?”
“Thanks,” I manage, but it’s weak, and the tears are already spilling down my cheeks. I close the phone and drop it to my lap.
There’s a knock at the bedroom door. “Jill?” Jenna cracks the door open and peeks her head in. When she sees my face, she rushes over to me. “What’s wrong? What happened?” She glances down at the phone with a furrowed brow. “Who were you talking to?”
“Nobody,” I answer on a sob, and she pulls me into her arms and starts stroking my back.
“It’ll be okay. Just tell me what’s wrong.”
“Jill?” Milo’s voice comes from a few feet away, and I can hear the worry in his tone. Without thinking, I pull from Jenna’s arms and stumble over to him where I throw my arms around his waist and bury my face in his neck. He doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around me and pull me in tight, making shushing noises and running his hand over my hair in a soothing rhythm.
I hardly even notice the sound of the door closing and Milo walking me over to the bed. He sits us down and draws me away by my upper arms so he can see my face. I know I’m a mess, but I don’t care.
“What happened?”
“Th-the-they fired me.” A new round of tears starts, and I swipe at my eyes with my knuckles.
“Shit.” He reaches up and strokes my hair again, and I want to sink into him and pretend this day never happened.
“They found out my real age.”
Milo’s nostrils flare, and it’s just like him to get pissed off on my behalf.
I try a shrug and a sad laugh. “It’s my own fault. I’m the one who lied in the first place.” My fingers attempt to smooth down his collar where my tears—and probably a good amount of snot—have soaked it.
“It’s my fault,” Milo says.
My eyes shoot up to his face, and my mouth opens to refute it, but his neck is stiff and his jaw is clenched tight, and there’s something in his eyes I know I’ve seen before. It’s regret. It’s the same look he had on the pier when he called me a kid and said he was only hanging out with me because he was bored.
“Wh-what?” I don’t want to believe him.
He drops his hand from my hair to the bed. “It’s my fault. I told Noah and Tyler you were sixteen.”
I stand so fast black spots float in my vision and have to grip the duvet so I don’t fall over. “What? Why would you do that?”
He stands too, and my head tilts up so I can watch his eyes as my vision clears. I expect the regret to still be there, for him to tell me that he and the guys were just shooting the shit and it slipped out by mistake. That he’s sorry. But the regret is gone, and sharp anger is in its place.
I’ve seen this expression before too. But only once. It was outside the corner store when he glared at me like I was scum and called me an entitled rich girl. I can see right through him and into his darkness as I watch his eyes get harder and his lips curl around his next words. “I had to.”
I let go of the bed and back up a step. He had to? That doesn’t make any sense. Those words and this expression can’t be coming from the Milo I know. But maybe I never knew him after all.
“Get out.” I try to make my words ice, but a tremor gives me away.
“No,” he says and takes a step forward. “I need to—”
“Get out!” This time it’s a scream, and I can see him freeze through a new haze of tears. I turn and race from the bedroom to the front hall, needing to increase the distance between me and this stranger before I go completely insane.
I hear Jenna and my mom call my name, and I glance over my shoulder to see Milo coming down the hall. He loses his balance and glances off the entry table, sending a figure of a pelican crashing to the tile. My mom shouts in surprise, and Jenna dashes forward, but I’m out the door, intent on getting as far as possible from the boy who just broke my heart.
Gripping the railing tight, I make my way down the stairs without falling and sprint out to the sidewalk. I have no idea where I’m going, and I don’t care.
“Jill!” Milo’s voice echoes behind me.
“Go away!” I yell, running even faster, my sandals slapping the sidewalk. I’m hoping his leg slows him down enough for me to duck down a side street and lose him, but he’s been getting stronger and stronger, and I can hear him still chasing me. I cross the street, not bothering to check for traffic, but my side is cramping and my lungs are burning by the time I reach the opposite sidewalk. The tears keep coming, and I’m so tired. I stop at a lamp post and lean my forehead against it, gasping for air.
“Jill. Wait.” Milo’s words come out on deep gasps of his own.
I lift my head and look over to see him standing in the middle of the street, a good twenty feet away with his hands raised in surrender. My arms go limp at my sides.
“Why? Why would tell them, Milo?”
I watch as his hands curl into fists. “Because they were assholes!” His voice bellows into the air, and a few random people on the sidewalks turn our way. We’re making a scene, but it doesn’t matter. I’ve had enough.
I laugh, but it’s more maniacal and devastated than funny. “Seriously? This again?” My teeth grip the inside of my lip and I pin him with a glare. “How many times are you going to beat this dead horse, Milo? Just because they’re not Bran, and they didn’t grow up here, and, okay, they have money and boats, doesn’t make them assholes!”
His head is shaking hard before I’m even done. “You’re just going to have to trust me on this one. You’re better off without them.”
I can’t believe him! “Trust you?” Another crazy laugh slips out. “You ruined my big break just because you decided they were assholes, and you want me to trust you? Are you listening to yourself?”
“I know what I’m talking about Jill. I’ve dealt with these kinds of pricks before.”