Page 63 of Dirty Like Brody
“We can work it out. Maybe you can take a distance course or put college off a year. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, Jessa. You can’t just passitup.”
“I’ve committed to Europe,” she said. “I’m going for thesummer.”
“I think that’s amistake.”
“So you’vetoldme.”
Shit. I was always saying the wrong thing when it cametoher.
“What I mean is, modeling isn’t your only option. I know they’ve offered you a contract to do the Europe thing, but we can get you a better deal. Withtheband—”
“I know myoptions.”
But she didn’t. She didn’t knowallheroptions.
“If you want to do something else, Jessa, I’ll manage you,” I told her. I’d never brought it up before, but I was getting fucking desperate. It was pretty much the last card I had to play. The only thing I had left to offer her. “If you want to do a solo thing. If you really don’t want to be a part of Dirty, we can do something else. You’ve got thetalent—”
“I’m going to Europe,” she said. “And then I’ve got college. I’m not goingontour.”
“But we could cut a demo for you. The kinds of contacts we’re making… the world is opening right up for us. You have no idea. I know we can make it happenforyou.”
“I don’t want it to happen,”shesaid.
Jesus, the girl wasstubborn.
Every way I’d tried to come at it, she just shot it down. She shotmedown.
I stared at her, still staring out the window. “You know, I never would’ve kissed you if I knew you wouldn’t be able to stand meafterward.”
She looked over for the first time, blinking atme. “What?”
“Last night. I never would’ve kissed you back, if it meant you weren’t gonna be able to look atmenow.”
“I am looking at you now,” she said, holdingmygaze.
Yeah, she was. Fuckingfinally.
How long were we gonna keep doing this fucking dance? Play this stupidchildishgame?
We weren’t children anymore. And I sure as fuck wasn’tplaying.
“Why the fuck aren’tyoumine?”
“Isn’t Christy yours?” she said, her voice light, but it was a fake kind of light, with a whole lot of heavybehindit.
“Christy isChristy.”
“What doesthatmean?”
“It means I’m not in love withChristy.”
She just stared at me. She didn’t say a thing, but her eyes were starting toshine.
“You remember that weekend we went surfing up in Tofino a few years ago? When Dylan’s vanbrokedown?”
“I remember,” shewhispered.
“We all got drunk around the campfire, yeah? And you and Jesse got in an argument over who knew more classic rock. He said he did because he could play the songs on guitar and you said you did because you knew all the words. And someone dared you to sing ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ and you did all the parts, and I laughed so fucking hard I almost fell in the fire. But you dove in and saved me, somehow, and you burned that hole in the ass of your jeans. I thought I was gonna break a rib laughing. I was sore thenextday.”
