Page 130 of Dirty Like Me
For the first time in over a week, maybeweeks, I felt like I was doing the right thing. I was taking control of my life. I was honoring Katie and what Katie needed. Thanks to Brody, I now knew what Jesse wanted, though I still had no idea what he wanted withme. That just didn’t matter anymore. Because it was time for me to grab my life by the balls.
I was going to show Jesse Mayes how much I loved him.
And if he got what he set out to get when he first asked me to come on tour, and he still wanted me by his side, I would know he loved me back.
I just had to get Jessa to come home.
I didn’t know how I was going to do it, but since Jessewasa guy, and Brody said he didn’t like to talk about his pain, I figured I could safely assume that he’d probably never actuallytoldhis sister how worried he was about her. And Jessa and I seemed to have rapport. I mean, we table danced for fuck’s sake. Some good old-fashioned girl talk could probably go a long way.
My gusto lasted all the way to L.A. and most of the way through my perfectly enjoyable dinner with Jesse’s sister. The dinner I was about to ruin, though that part was kind of inevitable.
Somewhere in the middle of dessert, it sputtered to an awkward death over the raspberry sorbet, during my clumsy explanation about why I was here. When I eventually ran out of words, Jessa Mayes just stared at me.
And stared some more.
“You mean, you flew heretoday? Just to see me?”
She sat across from me, tall and poised, her broad shoulders at an angle, one eyebrow cocked in a disbelieving look. She was just as beautiful as I remembered, but that thing I’d noticed the last time we met was more pronounced today; that flatness in her eyes, that lack of a spark.
I tried again, awkwardly, to explain what Jesse had told me. All except the suicide part.
It had all seemed so earnest when he’d said it, and so clear when I’d gone over it in my head. But coming out of my mouth, it just sounded wrong.
“I just thought maybe I could help. You know, to explain…”
“And you flew here? Today?” Jessa seemed stuck on that one detail more than any other.
And I just kept trying to steer her back to the point. “Well, he’s worried about you. I don’t know if he’s come right out and told you that, or if he ever would. But he is worried. And I think he has reasons for that. If that’s not overstepping for me to say so.”
Jessa set down her spoon, like she’d lost what was left of her appetite. “I didn’t know he felt that way.”
“He does.”
“I’m sorry for that.” She waved down the waiter. “I think we’re done here,” she told him, and I got a sick, desperate feeling in my gut.
The waiter cleared away our dishes, but I held fast to my wine glass. I took a swig, then took a leap.
“Why do you feel dirty?”
Jessa was touching up her plum-red lipstick in a gold compact. She paused and gazed at me across the candles. “Pardon me?”
It was hard to imagine the woman seated across from me feeling that way; the way the lyrics sounded. But…
“Dirty Like Me. You wrote it, right?”
Jessa looked surprised. She sat back in her chair, closing her compact with a snap and stuffing the makeup back in her purse. She held my gaze, but I could feel the wall going up. I was losing her, fast.
“I did,” she said. “The lyrics, anyway. Jesse and Seth wrote the music.”
“So why do you feel dirty? That’s what the song’s about, right?”
Jessa glanced around the room, then returned her gaze to me. “Is that what it’s about?” she said. I really couldn’t get a lock on her. Was she upset? Indifferent?
“I think so. That… and, I think, feeling beautiful. And powerful. And scared. And small. To tell you the truth, I just thought it was a raunchy rock song. But the first time I really listened to the words, it fucking gutted me.”
She looked like she could almost smile at that, but she didn’t. “Most people just think it’s sexy.”
“Sure. If by sexy you mean devastating, annihilating, soul-fucking-obliterating…”
