Jessica

Back in my car, I refresh the Snap map and see that Jake’s avatar is no longer in Cherish Heights. He’s deep in the woods. I call him again, and this time he answers, his breath panting. “Jessica?”

“Where are you? What are you doing?”

His footsteps are quick and noisy, the wind whistles on his end of the call. “Some shit went down at Brendon’s,” he says. “His mom called the police and I took off.”

“You’re running from the police? Seriously, Jake, that’s—”

“They’re going to put me in jail, Jess!” Jake’s footsteps slow until he comes to a halt. He’s winded and takes a moment to catch his breath. “You think I’m stupid, don’t you?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Emotion throttles his voice. “But it’s true. I’m running through the woods in fucking flip-flops and I don’t know where to go. I keep getting in trouble, and I really, really don’t want to go to jail.” He starts to cry. “If I hurt Tegan, I’ll turn myself in, I swear, but I—I don’t believe I did. I just want someone to tell me the fucking truth about that party.” His voice cracks.

I start my car. “Don’t move. I’m coming to get you.”

Jake sucks in his breath. “Stay home, Jess. I don’t want you getting in trouble too.”

“Already on my way.” I drive out of my neighborhood and accelerate, switching Jake to speaker. “You’re close to the river, so meet me at the old rope swing, okay?”

“Jess—”

“Just be there.” I end the call.

Fifteen minutes later, I pull off the main road and park beneath a massive oak, hoping the tree will shield my car’s presence in case the police drive by. Stumbling over rocks in my ankle boots, I find the hidden trail that leads to the rope swing, our summer hangout from middle school.

The trail curves through the redwoods toward the river. Here the air is thick and heavy and warm, unusual for the coast. Fresh rain clouds roil overhead, and the crescent moon shines between them, creating silver streams. As I descend toward Jake and the rope swing, my broken heart beats a little faster, a little stronger.

Discovering that Marcus is hiding out, not dead or on vacation or anything, has changed everything. What if Jake has been innocent all along—of everything except the cheating, of course?

It was easy to suspect him at first. He had Tegan’s phone, and he said Tegan and her friends would pay for what they did. But Jake can’t bake muffins without screwing them up. If there was a category for “Most Likely to Get Framed for Murder” or “Most Gullible” in the yearbook, Jake would win. Maybe someone is setting him up, and that someone is probably Marcus.

The idea that I’ve misread Jake makes me question everything else about him, and about us. By the time I reach the rope swing, tears threaten to cascade down my cheeks, because the truth is, I haven’t been totally honest with him.

“Jessica!” he calls.

I don’t see Jake at first, but there he is, standing by the water’s edge, hunched like a fugitive. Filthy mulch, webs, and stringy redwood tree bark cling to his clothing. His cheeks are flushed, and his half-lidded gaze burns into mine. The only time his body is still is when he’s looking at me.

I grow anxious the closer I get to him. Jake’s knuckles are raw and crusted with blood, and his face is swollen and bruised, but I’m not afraid. I’m worried. If he’s innocent, then he’s been fighting and skipping school and running from the cops because he’s scared, not guilty. If he’s innocent, then he’s been putting up with false accusations and public humiliation without support from anyone, including me. If he’s innocent, it explains why he’s been so terrified, erratic, and desperate. How is this suddenly so clear?

He watches my face, his eyes glowing hotter. Right then the clouds darken and thunder booms. Warm rain spits from the sky, splattering our shoulders, and as the water drips down Jake’s face and darkens his shirt, he strides across the shoreline until we’re inches apart. I touch his rough, bruised face with my fingertips, and my throat closes. “Are you okay?”

He licks his lips. “I am now.”

“My parents would kill me if they knew I was here.”

He steps closer, and I feel the heat radiating from his wet skin. “I think they’d kill me, not you.” His forehead crinkles when he smiles, but his eyes remain focused, piercing me, scattering my thoughts.

The world shrinks as it fills with the sound of our breathing. The way his wet shirt clings to his muscles makes my heart beat faster. I slide my fingertips across his flat stomach and then slip them beneath his T-shirt, where his skin is hot and damp.

“Jess,” he whispers, his voice shuddering.

I miss him, I want him, and while I don’t totally forgive him, the last of my reserve crumbles. “Come here,” I whisper.

He blinks, and then swoops me into his arms. My stomach twirls and I block out all we’ve been through as he wraps my legs around his waist.

Our lips meet, and we kiss as if it’s the first time, eyes closed, lips eager, tongues exploring. Goose bumps spread across my skin as Jake holds me tight. Our bodies fit together like they always have, and when I squeeze him back, he smiles against my cheek. I didn’t expect us to fit together as if we’ve never been apart, but we do, and now I don’t want to stop. “Let’s go to the shed,” I say, surprised at the huskiness in my voice.

The shed is a small abandoned building that middle schoolers have fixed into a hangout. It’s stocked with camping chairs, a card table, curtains and pillows, coolers, graffiti on the old wood walls, and a large window seat that fits two. There’s usually only one reason for a couple to hang out in the shed, but Jake appears confused.

“Let’s go to the shed together,” I clarify.

He laughs, and a happy smile erupts across his face. “I’ll go anywhere with you, Mrs. Healy.” I startle at the nickname, but let it go for now.

Taking his hand, I lead him farther down the path. When we arrive at the shed, he kicks open the door and carries me inside like a bride. After setting me down, he pulls off his dirty sweatshirt, turns it inside out, and lays the clean side on the window seat like a blanket.

“Give me your jacket.” I remove my coat, and he spreads that out too, making a clean bed. He turns on his phone flashlight and sets it on the table, gently lighting the room, and then he turns to me. “Are you sure you want to do this, Jess? What’s changed?”

I kiss him. “Don’t talk.” After trailing my fingers down his stomach, I tug on his belt loop, pulling him closer and smiling at the combination of joy and concern on his face.

“I don’t have a rubber,” he says.

“We can do other stuff.” I kiss him harder.

A soft moan rumbles through his chest, and my body starts to hum. I pull his shirt over his head and balk at what I see, more bruises across his ribs and stomach. “Jake?”

“Shhh, I’m fine.” He covers my lips in kisses and starts to remove my top, but I stop him and do it myself. He watches, his pulse thrumming as my sweater hits the floor. I’m not wearing a bra, and our eyes meet over our naked chests.

His hands sweep down my back as he squeezes me against him. I open my eyes, see that his are closed. He’s lost in me, lost with me. This—I’ve missed this! Kissing Jake is still like riding a rocket—body floating, heart thudding, breath gone.

The rest of our clothing slides off like water, and we’re skin to skin, his cheeks blazing, my body humming. Our feelings swirl like fairy dust, rising, rising. As the rain showers the earth outside, the rest of the world disappears.

Afterward we cuddle together and listen to the rain pelt the thin roof. Jake traces patterns over my bare skin until I get cold and pull on my warm fuzzy sweater. “Tell me what happened at Brendon’s?”

“We had a chat,” he says vaguely, rubbing his chewed-up knuckles. “But he didn’t tell me anything new. I’m so tired, Jess. Nothing’s made sense since the party.”

I tell him the news I’ve been holding in—that I found Marcus. “He’s been hiding in a cave, Jake, our cave.”

His head snaps up. “Whoa, whoa, how did this happen?”

I tell him the whole story, except the part about deleting my texts with Tegan. No one needs to know about that. “Marcus didn’t recognize me, but I called the hotline and turned him in. The police said at the press conference he’s a person of interest. Once they have him, they can question him. He did something wrong, Jake, or he wouldn’t be hiding.”

“I guess. Are you sure he didn’t recognize you?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about that. Listen. Shawna told you everyone is lying, right? Well, would she have said that to you if you were one of the liars? I think it was a warning; she was trying to help you. I don’t think you did anything to Tegan.”

“Really?” A grin breaks out across his face, followed by a frown. “Why did I have her phone, then? The simplest explanation is that I did it.”

“The law of parsimony?”

“The law of what?” He rubs his tired, swollen eyes, and I reach for his hand but then think better of it. I don’t want Jake to confuse sex with getting back together, especially after the Mrs. Healy comment. Instead I touch him with words. “The simplest explanation is that you can’t remember because you didn’t do it. I believe in you, Jake.”

He exhales as if dropping a huge weight, and then leans back, arms behind his head. “That’s all I needed to hear, Jess. I can survive anything. I can survive the zombie apocalypse, as long as I have you.”

I smile and look away, my body still cooling from our encounter. He does think we’re back together, and I get how he misread this, but how do I fix it without crushing him? I’m not ready for more. I want to forgive him for cheating on me, but I haven’t yet. I owe him the truth, though; I owe him more than that, actually. “Jake, I have something to tell you.”

He grins. “Yes, beautiful?”

A strange voice shouts from the woods, interrupting us, “This is the Crystal Cove Police Department. Identify yourselves and come out with your hands on your heads!”