Chapter 6
Dinner was awkward, and Mom seemed to be the only one oblivious to it as she rambled on.
No, she wasn’t asking about my first day of school or if I fit in. She was talking about the nails she got done and the amazing new friend she made today-because, of course, her social life was more important than mine.
The mother I knew and hated three months ago was back, and a dark, ugly part of me wished she had been in that car accident with Dad.
“Jemaya, are you listening?” Mom snapped her long fingers in front of my face.
I glared at her. Hard.
“What?” I snapped.
She gasped, her expression morphing into one of exaggerated offense.
“Jemaya, are you good?”
Jake’s voice was softer, closer. His presence beside me sent a
fresh wave of frustration surging through my chest.
How could he act so calm after seeing my body? After ignoring me like I was nothing?
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Chapter 6
Dinner was awkward, and Mom seemed to be the only one oblivious to it as she rambled on.
No, she wasn’t asking about my first day of school or if I fit in. She was talking about the nails she got done and the amazing new friend she made today-because, of course, her social life was more important than mine.
The mother I knew and hated three months ago was back, and a dark, ugly part of me wished she had been in that car accident with Dad.
“Jemaya, are you listening?” Mom snapped her long fingers in front of my face.
I glared at her. Hard.
“What?” I snapped.
She gasped, her expression morphing into one of exaggerated offense.
“Jemaya, are you good?”
Jake’s voice was softer, closer. His presence beside me sent a fresh wave of frustration surging through my chest.
How could he act so calm after seeing my body? After ignoring me like I was nothing?
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Didn’t he think I was attractive enough? Was I really not good enough for him?
My lips quivered, and I bit my lower lip, pushing my chair back.
“Nothing. I’m full.”
I stood, turning away before my emotions could betray me.
The scrape of a chair followed mine.
“She’s such a waste. You shouldn’t go after her-you’re spoiling her,” Mom said dismissively.
Her words cut deep, but I didn’t stop. I kept walking, my pulse roaring in my ears.
Jake’s footsteps followed. Silent. Intentional.
I didn’t stop until I reached my room, but just as I placed my hand on the doorknob, his voice stopped me cold.
“Jemaya, what’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong? Did you mean to ask what ‘isn’t’ wrong?” Turning around, I scoffed and rested on my door.
“You’ve been acting a little off since… and just now in the dining room. You barely ate and just got up and left like that. Your mom was really worried,” he said, a crease in his eyebrows, and the way he towered over me was increasingly distracting, but I wouldn’t waver.
“That woman is worried about me or about the nails she just got? And what about you, are you worried about me?” My gaze raised to meet his.
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A sharp gasp escaped my throat as he stepped closer with barely any distance between us.
“What do you think, Schätzchen?” The sudden tension and new language made me feel both confused and entranced, but I wasn’t about to lose this round.
“I don’t know, you don’t even…”
“How about we go inside and talk?” His hand came behind me as he turned the knob, making our bodies touch until I stumbled backward into my room. Even then, he was quick to catch me by my waist, like we were in a waltz.
“I… I don’t…”
“You don’t want me to come in, or…?” He asked as he drew
closer.
I shook my head faster than my mind could process his words. “Oh, you want me to come in so we can talk about this little attitude of yours?” he asked, as if reading my eyes, and I nodded.
“Brav, Schätzchen,” again. That strange language, but his actions were so seamless as he closed the door behind him
and even locked it.
He locked it! My heart skipped two beats and did a
somersault, but he let go right at that moment, and his face hardened in all seriousness again.
Like that, my opportunity to ask for the meaning of those words was missed.
“So tell me, Jemaya, why the attitude?” The way his tone
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suddenly turned cold was so sudden, and it made me wonder if all of what happened this afternoon in this room meant nothing to him.
He had seen me, stared at me, made my heart jump, only for him to get up and, without turning around, tell me to stop acting indecently.
Miraculously, I was still a virgin at 18, but he’d indirectly called me a slut because of one mistake.
He’d left me hanging. No compliments, nothing. Did he hate that my areola were too big or did he hate how dark they were? He must prefer the punk ones, like the model, or else he wouldn’t have turned around and walked out without offering a compliment.
“Attitude?” I wanted to scoff, but my voice came out weaker as I turned around and walked toward my mirror, feeling so close to tears. “I’m sorry about the attitude, Mr. Jake, I just couldn’t listen to any of that girly bullshit my mom was talking about, all right?”
“I just couldn’t bear the thought that she was happy again and had returned to ignoring me. I couldn’t bear to see that all our shared trauma was nothing to my mom, and I was just
another house member to her.” I turned around and realized that he was by my side.
How did he get here so fast and so silently? I swallowed hard as my heart thumped, but I couldn’t look away from his gaze— not when they looked like they wanted to cry for me.
Why did he look like he understood me?
I didn’t want that! I didn’t want to rely on him too much, yet I
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found myself sobbing in his chest for the second time today as he pulled me into a hug.
“It’s okay, I’m here for you now,” he said as his hand combed through my long hair.
Long from not getting a trim or any form of grooming in the past 5 months.
“She didn’t even ask me how my day was? She…” I sniffled and sobbed nonstop for another ten minutes before he said,
“How about we play a game?”
That was so random and out of nowhere, but it had me intrigued nonetheless.
“What game?” My voice came out muffled as my face was still buried in his chest.
“20 questions,” he pulled me from his chest with a very cheerful expression on his face.
My brows furrowed even more as I’d never heard of such a game.
“So basically, we don’t have time until evenings like this or on weekends to get to know each other because of my work and your school, but if we play a game where we ask each other random questions, we get to know each other more, and you’ Il realize, Jemaya,” he called my name so endearingly that I hiccuped, “that I really want to get to know and love you.”
“You do?”
“Yes, as a stepfather and stepdaughter, of course,” he added as if to prove a point, and I nodded. Another hiccup.
