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Part
One “Jacey? Would you turn on the pumpkin patch sprinklers on your way out?” Mandy Whittaker asked. Jacey rolled her eyes and exhaling an irritated sigh said, “Yes, Mother.” Slipping on her shoes, Jacey picked up her backpack and headed out the kitchen door. “And do it with the right attitude,” her mother called after her. “If you want to make any money off those pumpkins, you better take care of them.”
“I know, I know,” Jacey mumbled, twisting the outside faucet handle. She smiled as she watched the sprinklers sputter then bloom. If her last count of the pumpkins was correct, at three bucks a pop, she’d have a good one-hundred and fifty dollars to her name by the time Halloween was over. Pumpkins were just about Jacey's favorite thing. She loved to watch the small pumpkin sprouts break through the rich, dark soil in spring. Once the vines began running willy-nilly in the patch, she then loved to carefully wander in their midst, searching for the bright yellow-orange blossoms…the promise of the rich orange treasure to come at harvest time and the anticipation of earning a wad of cash from their sale was sheer bonus, for in the end…it was all about the joy of the patch and the harvest. Homecoming was two weeks after Halloween, and Jacey was hoping the money from the pumpkin sales would be enough to buy a dress, just in case someone asked her to go. She knew chances were slim to none nobody would ask her—a lowly sophomore. Still, she had her secret dreams and just in case a miracle did occur, Jacey wanted to be certain she had the means to purchase the white sequin-drenched formal she’d seen at the mall. Jacey looked up into the clear blue of an early October sky and sighed with contentment. Closing her eyes she inhaled deeply the warm scent of burning leaves, reveling in the feel of the cool breeze on her cheeks. “Come on, Jacey!” Scott called as he ran out the back door of the house next to Jacey’s. “You’ll make us late!” Jacey opened her eyes and, as usual, the very sight of Scott caused her heart to leap wildly in her chest. “Me?” she giggled. “What’re you talking about? I’ve been ready for hours!” "Yeah, right," he said, shoving the last bite of toast into his mouth as he pulled his football jersey on over his head. He opened the driver's side door of the beat-up, old, red pickup he called, 'Cherry,' and tossed in his backpack. "Come on, sugar-britches," he said, rushing to the passenger's side of the pickup and opening the door for Jacey. Jacey
paused for a moment yet, still mesmerized by the mere sight of him.
Scott Pendleton—brown hair, blue eyes and gorgeous!
Far beyond cute, Scott was absolutely thoroughly handsome!
The handsomest boy at As with every moment Jacey was in Scott's presence, she silently wished she was older…eighteen instead of just sixteen. She wished she was prettier, a better match for the best catch at Ridge. Her smile faded a moment as she suddenly became desperately aware of herself…desperately aware of her unworthiness to even dream of such a boy. Yet dream of him she did, just like every other girl at their school. "Come on Pumpkin-Patch-Polly," Scott said, taking Jacey's backpack and tossing it in the pickup next to his. "I can't get another tardy this week or Coach will have my head." "Sorry," Jacey said, smiling at him as she climbed into the pickup. Scott returned her smile and closed the door, rushing to the driver's side and climbing in himself. "Let's go," Scott said, smiling at her. He turned the key in the ignition and the truck rumbled to life, as did the pickup's sound system speakers. Jacey smiled as John Cougar Mellencamp's gravel-voice rocked, Jack and Diane. One of the many things Scott and Jacey held in common was their love for vintage music. Scott swore the 1980's saw the best music ever recorded and Jacey insisted Elvis Presley and Donny Osmond were the best singers ever born. Scott backed out of the driveway and paused, changing Mellencamp's lyrics slightly as he sang, "Scottie's gonna be a football star…" Winking at Jacey he added, "Trap Jacey in the backseat...of Scottie's car." With a smile and another wink, he threw the pickup into first, holding the clutch to smoke some rubber. He popped the clutch however when Mrs. Pendleton appeared at the Pendleton's front door wagging an index finger at her son. Rolling down her window, Jacey called, "Bye, Mrs. Pendleton!" Scott's mother smiled and waved at her as Scott shifted the pickup into second. "You coming to the game tonight, Jace?" Scott asked as they drove. "Don’t I always come to your games?" Jacey said, smiling at her handsome friend. Scott smiled in return, laid his right arm along the back of the seat and affectionately squeezed Jacey's shoulder. As always, his touch caused Jacey's breath to catch, her skin to tingle. "In fact," Jacey said, pensively placing an index finger to her chin as she looked at him. "I can't remember a time before I was always coming to your games." "Liar," Scott said, smiling. "I didn't start football 'til Junior High." "I know," Jacey giggled. Jacey remembered very well the day sports had replaced her as Scott's favorite pastime. Growing up next door to each other, Jacey couldn't remember a time when Scott wasn't a part of her every day life. As children they'd run through the sprinklers, ridden bikes, played with matches and just about every other thing they could think of. Fast and best friends, Scott and Jacey had been nearly inseparable until the day Scott started Junior High, leaving Jacey still in Elementary School. Yet although Scott had left early childhood behind, he never quit being Jacey's best friend. Most of the free time he did have, especially in summers, he spent with Jacey. At least, until Scott entered the eighth grade and discovered that, not only did his guy friends offer the lure of mischief and masculine adventure, girls had gotten a lot more interesting, too. And therein began the misery of Jacey's own life. Jacey Whittaker had loved Scott Pendleton for as long as she could remember. Loved him first as a friend, then as a heroine loved a hero and then…then along about the time Scott discovered other girls, Jacey had begun to love him as the boy of her dreams. For five long years, Jacey had secreted the type of feelings she held for Scott, as well as the depth of them. And as Scott had begun to mature, to grow more handsome, more charming and charismatic, other girls had begun to notice him, too. Before
Jacey had entered Certainly Scott never let on anything had changed. He still came over to Jacey's house to hang out, still asked her to do stuff with him, still drove her to school every morning. What was different was Jacey. Her feelings had changed and Scott seemed none the wiser. Jacey wanted it that way. Actually, what she wanted was for Scott to feel the same way about her that she did him, but she knew such a dream was impossible. The hardest part of it all was watching Scott date other girls. He'd never had a serious or steady girlfriend, but Jacey knew one day he would and she dreaded it, had nightmares about it, and cried a river of tears in anticipation of it. Still, what was to be done except endure? More than once the thought of confessing her feelings for him had run through her mind, but Jacey had quickly squelched it, determining it was better to have Scott as a friend than not at all. Yet it remained difficult, watching him with other girls. Watching him drive off with one in his pickup on warm summer evenings…knowing he was with another girl. Each time he left for a date, Jacey's mind was on fire with jealousy, disappointment and heartache. Still, she never let him know it. She wanted Scott to be happy, to enjoy his life. She just wished she were the part of his life making him happy. "Look," Scott said, jerking Jacey's thoughts back to the moment at hand. "I brought this for you. It's spirit day, you know." "What?" Jacey asked as Scott began rummaging around in his backpack with one hand. "Well," he said, still rummaging. "I know you don't think you look good in maroon and gold…but you've gotta wear the school colors on game day, Jace," he said. Awkwardly he pulled a maroon and gold football jersey out of his backpack and handed to Jacey. "There you go. Throw that on over your clothes," he said. "Your jersey?" Jacey asked as she stared at the jersey in her hands. Her heart began to hammer madly at the thought of wearing Scott's jersey. "It's an old one," he said, smiling at her. "There's a little tear at the bottom somewhere…but I figure you can tuck it in." Jacey held the jersey up, starring in disbelief at the gold number sixteen printed on the maroon base. "You can have it," Scott said. "Mom made me clean out my closet and I figured you could use it on spirit days and then for whatever else after that." Jacey glanced at him, hoping he didn't notice the way her hands trembled as she held the jersey. "Go ahead!" he laughed. "Throw it on! Let's see what a sexy angel you are wearing my football jersey." He smiled at her and winked and she glared at him. "You're never going to let me forget that are you?" Jacey asked. Scott knew full well to what she was referring. After all, he'd teased her about it forever…ever since, at the age of nine, Jacey had snuck into the very back of her mother's closet and absconded her mother's pretty 'angel dress,' donning it as her angel costume in the Christmas pageant program at church. The 'angel dress,' had proved to be quite the talk of the congregations, as well as proving to humiliate Jacey's mother nearly beyond recovery. The white, gossamer negligee which hung in the back of her mother's closet had seemed so beautiful to Jacey's innocent and naive eyes. Long, flowing, white chiffon with white feathers at the sleeves and hem…the perfect angel costume. Yet Jacey had sensed enough about the 'angel dress' being special that she hadn't asked her mother's permission to borrow it. She'd simply hidden it in her little duffle bag and snuck it to the church. When the time came for Jacey to make her appearance in the pageant, she stepped onto the stage donning the beautiful 'angel dress,' and causing a ripple of laughter to wash over the audience. "I don't think anyone should forget that, Jace," Scott chuckled. Jacey blushed at the memory of her mother explaining that the gossamer gown was not an 'angel dress,' but rather a nightgown Jacey's father had given her on their anniversary. Scott, being two years older than Jacey, was already a little wiser to the ways of the world and had dubbed Jacey, 'sexy angel,' because of her loveable innocence in the matter. Still, Jacey loved the pet name. Of all the pet names Scott had bestowed upon her over the years, "sexy angel," was her favorite—even if it did border on questionable when heard out of context. "Throw the jersey on, Jace," Scott said. "Show some school spirit!" Jacey giggled and shook her head. Scott was a die-hard school spirit advocate. She guessed seeing everyone wearing the school colors helped to buoy up his confidence before a game. In reality, for the fabulous player he was, Scott struggled with self-confidence. For the beautiful, adorable, funny boy he was, Scott struggled with self-esteem. Perhaps it was the rocky marriage his parents displayed, perhaps it was just a streak of humility or lack of typical teenage ego, but whatever the reason, Scott was a humble boy and the fact only served to enhance his charm. "Maroon washes me out," Jacey told him as she obeyed and slipped the jersey over her head. "Nothing washes you out, Jace," he told her. "Oh,
my heck! It's huge!"
she exclaimed as she awkwardly struggled in the pickup to pull the
jersey on completely. "Almost
to my knees!" "You are too into this, Scottie," she told him. "I look like an idiot." "You look adorable," he told her, smiling. "There'll be lots of girls wearing jersey's today. It's spirit…" "Spirit day. I know," Jacey interrupted with a giggle. Jacey smoothed the jersey over her lap, momentarily blissful as the scent of Scott's cologne filled her lungs. "Um…when's the last time you washed this, babe?" she asked. Her skin was alive, tingling with goose-bumps at the thought of wearing something which had once been worn against Scott's body. "I
don't know," Scott said, shrugging his shoulders.
"I know I didn't wear it in a game though.
We got our "And…and I've always wondered," Jacey said then. "Why sixteen? Did they just assign you guys your numbers? Or did you choose it?" "I've been wearing sixteen for four years, Jace," Scott said. "You just now noticed?" Jacey shrugged and said, "Oh, I knew your number was sixteen, dumby. I just…I just never thought to ask if there's a reason." "There's a reason," Scott said. Jacey frowned when he neglected to explain the reason to her, however. "What's the reason?" she asked. "It's a secret," he whispered. "I could tell you…but then I'd have to kill you." Jacey rolled her eyes, smiling at his completely predictable, completely cliché response. "You're a brat," she told him, blushing with pride as they drove into the school parking lot. She didn’t even mind the hateful look some girls gave her as they drove past. Being with Scott was worth all the hateful looks in the world. "Come on, Scottie," she said as he turned the pickup into a parking space. "Just tell me. Why did you choose sixteen as your number?" Scott put the shift in first and turned off the ignition. Smiling he turned to her and said, "Figure it out. Sixteen candles, sweet sixteen…" "Sweet sixteen and never been kissed!" Jacey exclaimed, her eyes widening. "You were sixteen before you ever kissed anyone?" "Ppfff!" Scott exclaimed, frowning and feigning offense. "Be serious. I chose the number when I was a freshman…long before I was sixteen." Jacey smiled and wrinkled her nose at him even though her heart had began to ache over the knowledge Scott had kissed other girls. Oh, he'd never really told her he had…but she knew. She knew. "I will tell you this, sexy jersey girl," he continued, "You're somewhat on the right track to guessing." "And so…" Jacey said, sighing. "Scott Pendleton remains a mystery." Scott
chuckled and opened his door, stepping out of his truck and into the
world of "You betcha," he said smiling. He hurried around the pickup and opened Jacey's door for her. As she climbed down he said, "I gotta run. I gotta talk to Coach before class. You gotta ride home for today?" he asked, reaching past Jacey to retrieve his backpack form the seat. "Yeah. Kerry said she'd take me home," Jacey answered. "If you'd let me teach you to drive a stick…you could take the truck home and just bring it back to me when you come for the game," he said. "I know, I know," Jacey said. Scott had been trying to talk her into letting him teach her to drive his truck ever since she'd gotten her drivers license two months before. "This weekend, Jace," he said, firmly. "You're learning this weekend." Jacey smiled delighted at the prospect of spending time with him. "Okay. Okay. I'll do it." "Good deal," he said, smiling down at her. He ran a hand over her shoulder and down her arm, sending goose-bumps traveling down her arm following the route of his touch. "Have a good day. All right?" he said as he turned to leave. "You, too," she said. Scott looked back at her, smiled and waved as Liz Robertson hurried over to him. Jacey waved back at him, her smile fading however as she watched Liz take hold of Scott's arm. She watched, as Scott laughed at something Liz said. Her ears felt hot and her stomach churned with miserable jealousy. She knew Liz had asked Scott out, that he had said yes and that they had plans together for the next evening. It's why Jacey had accepted Chris Santore's offer to take her out the same night. Knowing she had to try and let go of her dreams of owning Scott, Jacey had decided to begin dating herself. Up until then, she hadn't. Not caring a wit for any other boy, save Scott, Jacey had done little one-on-one socializing with other boys, but the reality was fast falling over her Scott would someday find someone to love. Jacey knew if she didn't try to find someone to love second best…she'd be miserable forever over not having Scott. Still, having to endure watching other girls smile with, flirt with and go on dates with Scott only continued to become more difficult to deal with. Not easier. She watched Scott walk toward the gym for a moment longer before turning and heading to her own class. Yet as she walked, she allowed pride to lift her spirits a bit. Pride in the looks the other girls gave her as she passed them wearing Scott's old jersey. By now everyone in the school knew Scott and Jacey were just neighbors, friends of convenience. But Jacey knew there was always just a bit of doubt in their minds. Especially on days like this—days when Jacey was able to display some sort of connection with Scott other girls couldn't. As some girls glared at Jacey, others smiled and giggled, giving her a thumbs-up, delighted and showing their support of Jacey's one-upping the snotty girls who all thought they were good enough to snag Scott Pendleton. Yet throughout the day, Jacey felt melancholy, blue and rather lonely. Perhaps it was the faint scent of Scott's all-too-familiar cologne filling her senses. Perhaps it was the constant reminder on a game day that Scott was a senior, close to graduation, close to leaving for college, close to leaving Jacey heartbroken and alone. Even the yearbook staff taking pictures of Scott and Jacey in their matching jerseys at lunch did little to lift her spirits for Jacey was beginning to worriedly anticipate losing Scott. Not that she'd ever owned him. Not since he'd started Junior High and discovered guy friends and girls, anyway. But his leaving was inevitable. Jacey had helped Scott decide on which colleges to apply to. Scott would leave. He would and Jacey knew she would never recover. d Scott watched Jacey enter the stadium. He smiled, pleased at the way his old football jersey completely enveloped her. He shook his head, amazed she could possibly think she didn't look good in maroon. Jacey Wittacker looked good in anything! His eyes narrowed as he studied her for a moment, the perfect curve of her smile, the youthful flash in her hazel eyes, the way the softness of her brown, highlighted hair moved as she turned her head. The football jersey hid the perfect, very womanly shape of her figure…the one drawback to her wearing it. Yet, he could deal with that fact for one evening. He raised both his arms and waved at her, smiling when she waved back, cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted, "We love you, Scottie!" He chuckled and snapped his chinstrap into place, but as he turned to watch the coach giving the team a final go-over of the play, his mind lingered on Jacey. Time was short. He felt it slipping away. He'd be leaving in less than a year. Had he waited long enough? Had he waited too long? "Pendleton!" the coach shouted. "Get your head in the game!" "Yes, Coach," Scott said. However, in that moment, in the moment before he put his mind on the game, Scott Pendleton made a decision. He'd waited long enough. He'd waited until sixteen. And sixteen had arrived. Yep. He'd waited long enough and the waiting was over. ~*~ "How was the game?" Mandy Whittaker asked as Jacey entered through the kitchen door. "We won!" Jacey told her, forcing a smile. "Good!" her mother said. "Did Scott do well?" "Scott always does well, Mom. Three touchdowns tonight," Jacey said. "Everybody went to Drake's Drive-in after the game. The team was pretty pumped about the win." "Didn't you want to go?" Mandy asked. "You could've called and we would've let you stay out." "I know," Jacey said. "But…but I'm just sort of tired. Just felt like coming home." Mandy Whittaker's eyes narrowed as she looked at her daughter. It was heartbreaking having to watch Jacey go through the pain of unrequited love. Fact was Mandy suspected the love Jacey felt for Scott wasn't as unrequited as Jacey thought. Mandy also suspected Scott was biding his time for some reason…waiting. Waiting for Jacey to grow up a bit. Still, Jacey's misery had become more and more apparent. Not to everyone perhaps, but to Mandy it was painfully obvious. First love was a mean dog. No one ever completely got over it. But Mandy knew it was part of life, a part of life everyone had to endure…even her precious daughter. "Scott give you his jersey?" Mandy asked, stating the obvious. "Yeah," Jacey said, tugging at the hem. "He said I needed to show my school spirit." "Looks to me like he wanted to show the school something," Mandy said, winking at her daughter. "Nothing shows ownership like a football jersey." "Don't I only wish," Jacey said, giggling. Jacey's mom had always had a knack for giving Jacey hope. However false it may have been, hope was always preferable to no hope. "It's only ten," Mandy said. "Are you going to bed already?" "Naw," Jacey sighed, kicking off her shoes. "Just thought I'd hang out a while….maybe read." "Okay, sweetie," Mandy said, kissing Jacey lovingly on the cheek. "Sleep tight." "Thanks, Mom. Good night," Jacey said, returning her mother's kiss. Once in her room, Jacey melted. Tears filled her eyes. She felt defeated, tired and alone. She needed a good cry, but felt too tired to deal with one. A shower, some peanut butter and a chocolate bar would have to do the trick instead. Jacey opened the top drawer of her vanity and took out the small jar of peanut butter hidden there, noting she was down to two chocolate bars. Enough to get her through the melancholy of one night perhaps, but she would have to remember to put chocolate bars on the grocery list under the fridge magnet next time she went downstairs. Unwrapping one of the chocolate bars she broke a corner from it and opened the peanut butter jar. Plunging in the bit of chocolate, she withdrew it heaping with the delicious sticky mess, stuffing it in her mouth as she pushed 'play' on her CD player and began to undress. In the serene isolation of Jacey's bedroom, Donny Osmond was thirteen again and crooning, "I'm Your Puppet." Jacey stepped into the shower and after a warm refreshing rinse, Jacey did feel much better. She put on her underwear monogrammed, "Monday," even though it was Friday and just to make herself more emotionally miserable, she pulled Scott's jersey on as a nightgown. After
another corner of chocolate blobbed in peanut butter, Jacey dried her
hair. Humming softly to
herself, she programmed the CD player to repeat Donny's version of, Too
Young. "That should do it," she said to herself as the music began. "They try to tell us we're too young," she sang with Donny. "Too young to really be in love." Jacey smiled, grateful her mother had been a die-hard Donny Osmond fan as a teenager, for he indeed had a beautiful voice as a boy not to mention as an adult. She was glad her mom had continued to listen to her old Donny Osmond music when Jacey was little, glad her mom listened to his newer material, too. She was thankful her mom had introduced her to such a talented vocalist. Both Donny and Elvis gave Jacey the venue's to either really wallow in melancholy or dream the happiest daydreams. She loved the smooth, perfection of Donny's voice, the sultry southern warmth of Elvis' and often wondered if she hadn't been born a couple of decades too late. Another bite of chocolate and peanut butter, Donny singing Puppy Love, repeated a few times and Jacey found her spirits began to lift somewhat. She tried not to think of Scott, tried not to imagine him at Drake's, girls dripping from his elbows. It hurt to think of it and Jacey was tired. "Come in," she said as she heard a knock on her bedroom door. Expecting to see her mother enter, Jacey gasped as she turned to see Scott open the bedroom door and step into her private domain. Not that he hadn't been in her room before, but this night was different. This night it was her sanctuary, her hiding place. Not to mention she had no make-up on and still wore his football jersey. "Hey, sugar-britches," Scott said, smiling at her as he studied her from head to toe. "Whatcha doin'?" "Getting read for bed," she told him, blushing crimson. "What are you doing here? Didn’t you go to Drake's?" Scott shrugged and picked up the peanut butter jar, dipping his index finger into it, popping his finger into his mouth next. "I went for a while…but you never showed up," he said. Jacey shook her head at him and handed him a piece of chocolate bar. "Oh, so you came home just because of me?" she teased, although her heart raced with the hope he might actually be serious. He dipped the chocolate in the peanut butter and nodded as he ate it. "Yeah," he said. "Oh, right!" Jacey exclaimed. Her heart was beating furiously and she suddenly had the desire to drop to her knees before Scott and beg him to love her. "You're eating all my peanut butter," she teased, taking the jar away from him and setting it back on the vanity. “I don’t want you going out with Chris Santore, Jacey,” he stated unexpectedly. “What?" Jacey asked, rather astonished at the force of the statement. "Why not?” she said, picking up a bottle of fruit-scented lotion from the vanity and squeezing a dollop in one hand. "He’s your friend. You told me yourself he’s a nice guy.” Jacey sat down at her dressing table, as she smoothed the lotion over her arms, grimacing as she looked at her reflection. Inside her mind was going crazy with reasons why Scott would not want her going out with Chris. Was he jealous? She shook her head at the preposterous notion. Sure. Scott Pendleton jealous of another guy? And where Jacey was concerned? Right. Most likely Scott thought Chris was what was commonly known as a, "man-hoochie," meaning he liked to make-out with every girl he could get his hands on. Jacey smiled, touched Scott would take the time to look out for her…even if it wasn't for his own reasons. “Yeah….but…I just don’t think you should," he told her "Who’s this?” he asked, momentarily distracted by the song playing on the CD player. “This isn’t Donny Osmond, is it? Again?” He smiled and shook his head. “You know you’re the only sixteen-year-old girl on the face of the earth who…” “Do not dis Donny, Scott,” Jacey scolded, shaking her hairbrush at him. “Do not dis one of the greatest voices on the face of the earth.” Scott smiled and Jacey knew he was trying not to laugh. He knew how seriously she took her favorite singer. “And yet…because I love you…” she said standing and going to the CD player. “But mostly because I love Donny and will not have him mocked…” She pressed stop on the CD player, opened it, removing the CD and replacing it with another. “I’ll change the CD for you.” Jacey returned to her seat at the dressing table and began brushing her hair. Scott smiled, sighed and rolled his eyes as Elvis’ singing, Love Me, wafted from the CD player. “No eye-rolling, Scott,” Jacey said, looking at him from the mirror and shaking her hair brush in his direction. “Don’t you mock my Elvis either.” “I suppose you set it on repeat, too,” he chuckled. “Of course,” she admitted. She was nervous, trembling. Something was different. Jacey had spent years in Scott's presence, yet with each passing day it seemed he unsettled her, delighted her, more and more. She was quickly reaching the point of losing control and melting into a mess, confessing her love for him, her heartache at not owning his. She straightened in her chair and tried to appear unaffected as he continued, “Anyway, I don’t think you should go out with Chris tomorrow night.” “Give me a good reason,” Jacey told him. “I don’t think you should go out with Liz Robertson tomorrow night either…but…but…” Scott frowned and asked, “What do you mean? Why do you think I shouldn’t go out with Liz?” Jacey looked at him from the mirror reflection and Scott saw something pass over her face—something which gave him hope. What he read in her expression…was it concern, jealousy, hurt? He couldn’t quite make it out, but whatever it was, it gave him hope and the courage to continue on the path he'd decided to take. “Because…because…she’s not right for you,” Jacey told him finally. It took every ounce of courage for her to say what she thought of Liz. Would he be angry with her? “Not right for me? I’m eighteen years old, Jacey. What makes you think I'm looking for whoever’s right for me? At…at this age…we're just having fun. Right?” he said. “Well…well, I’m just having fun, too, and you said Chris was a nice guy,” she stammered. She wondered if she should turn and face him; tell him how she felt about him. Tell him she didn't want to go out with Chris, that she only wanted him…only wanted Scott Pendleton. “He is a nice guy,” Scott admitted. “It’s just that…he’s a guy.” “And what do you mean by that? Do you think I don’t know about guys?” Jacey said, continuing to brush her hair. Her hands trembled and she hoped he didn’t notice. “I…I…think you think you know about guys,” Scott admitted. Jacey saw him glance over to her bed, piled high with nearly every stuffed animal Scott had ever given her over the years. Even, and she watched him grin when he saw it, the raggedy old rabbit he'd given her when she turned five. She'd drug the rabbit everywhere and used to chew on one ear. “I hope you’ve washed this thing a few times,” he said, reaching out and picking up the well-worn bunny. “Remember how you used to wipe your nose on it and…” “Be quiet!” Jacey said, fairly leaping from her chair and snatching the bunny from his hands. “I can handle myself with Chris, Scott,” she said as she lovingly placed the bunny back on her bed. “You don’t need to worry about it.” She paused and her eyes widened. “Unless there’s something you haven’t told me about him. Scott smiled. He loved when Jacey’s imagination began to run away with her. Her eyes would always widen with the anticipation of what horrors she might learn. He loved the way her hair fell down around her shoulders, the radiance that shone in her face even at end of the day. He loved the way she looked wearing his beat-up old football jersey. He wondered what it would feel like to hold her next to him when she was wearing it. He swallowed hard and blinked away the dramatic emotions he was feeling toward Jacey. He’d always adored her, loved her…but over the past six or eight months, his feelings toward her had begun to change. Furthermore, he wasn’t certain how to deal with the change. Elvis crooning about sultry, pleading romance didn’t help either. “There ain’t nothing to tell,” he managed finally. “He’s a good guy…I guess.” Oh, how Jacey wished Scott’s concern about her going out with Chris sprung from jealousy! Oh, how she wished he’d take her in his arms and say, “I want you for myself…that’s why I don’t want you going out with Chris Santore.” But she knew her dreams of Scott Pendleton were only that, dreams. “Just don’t let him kiss you,” Scott added, reaching out and putting one hand at her waist. Jacey put her hand on his shoulder as he took her other hand in his free one. His feet moved slowly as he began to dance with her. Jacey smiled, she loved the feel of his hand at her waist, and she had always loved dancing with Scott. Ever since their mothers had signed them up for ballroom dance classes five summers before, Jacey had loved dancing with Scott. Of course, they were both teenagers now and it wasn't long before he drew her hand to rest with his against his chest, pulling her against him and swaying slightly side to side. Scott winked at her and she smiled when he said, "Just don't let him kiss you." Jacey couldn't stifle a giggle, delighted he seemed to care who she kissed. “Don’t you kiss girls on the first date?” she asked, though the thought of Scott kissing another girl made her want to scream and burst into tears. “That’s not what I’m talking about,” Scott said. “Treat me like a fool, treat me mean and cruel…but love me,” he sang with Elvis as they danced. Suddenly, Jacey felt as if she might pass out. Her heart was hammering far too hard in her chest, her skin felt hot and her eyes threatened to fill with tears. Though he hid it, Scott had a fabulous singing voice…and his hand at her waist, his nearness, the low light of the room, his singing her favorite Elvis song…all of it was combining to perfectly break Jacey’s heart. “Wring my faithful heart, tear it all apart…but love me,” he continued. Jacey tried not to stare at his mouth as he sang, tried not to wish he would be the first boy to kiss her…tried not to wish he would be the last. “Come on,” she breathed, desperate to distract herself. “You’re putting up a double standard here. Are you going try and tell me that…that you’re not going to try and kiss Liz tomorrow night?” She glanced down, not wanting him to see the excess moisture gathering in her eyes at the thought. “That’s my point, Jacey,” Scott said. “Just because I’m going out with her, doesn’t mean…” “Well, just because I’m going out with Chris…doesn’t mean…” she stammered, but Scott had pulled her closer, flush with his body as they danced, until she was completely enfolded in his arms. He’d grown so much over the past two years. The top of Jacey’s head barely reached his chin now and suddenly she began to feel intimidated by his height, frightened somehow and very, very vulnerable. “I’m just asking you not to let him kiss you,” he said. She looked up to him, expecting to see his familiar teasing expression. The familiar expression of mischief was not on his face however and she was even more undone. His eyes had narrowed, his jaw was set firm and his mouth was tight, his expression that of irritation. “Okay,” she sheepishly agreed. “But—but why not? If I like him and we have a good time…” “Would it be your first kiss, Jacey?” he asked, unexpectedly. Jacey was caught completely unprepared. She didn’t want to appear foolish and naïve in front of him, but she didn’t see a good reason to lie to her best friend either. “Um…um…yeah,” she admitted. Scott sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. He seemed simultaneously relieved and rattled. “Then don’t let him kiss you,” he rather ordered. “But…why not?” she asked. Jacey had no intention of letting Chris Santore kiss her, yet Scott's interest in the matter had far more than merely peaked her interest. Her heart hammered, her body tingled from his touch as she ventured “Somebody’s going to kiss me first someday. At least, I hope someone will.” “Yeah,” he said. “Me.” Jacey stopped breathing, her arms and legs bursting into goose-bumps, the butterflies in her stomach suddenly multiplying a hundred fold. “Scott…you’re teasing me and I don’t think it’s very funny,” she said. Surely he was teasing her. Surely he did not mean it. Yet, every fiber of her being hoped he did. “I’m not teasing,” he mumbled, taking her face in his hands. Jacey was surprised at the way her mouth suddenly grew hot and began to water. She couldn’t tear her gaze from his perfect face, held her breath again when his thumbs traveled over her lips. “Don’t let him kiss you, Jacey,” he whispered. “Don’t ever let anybody kiss you…anybody but me.” Jacey’s heart beat with such force in her chest it was nearly painful, she felt like crying, laughing, sobbing all at the same time. Tears gathered in her eyes as she looked up at him. Could he really be serious? Was he telling her, he cared for her? Cared for her as more than just a childhood friend? "R…really?" Jacey stammered. It couldn't be! It was the fabric of every one of Jacey's dreams…Scott's adoration, his love. "Really," Scott whispered, as he gazed down at her, his thumb caressing her cheek. "Nobody? Ever?" she asked, unable to believe what was happening. She smiled as a tear escaped her eyes and trickled over her cheek and teased, “Not even Donny?” Scott chuckled and shook his head. “He’s married,” he said. Jacey nodded and breathed a giggle, saying, “Not even Elvis?” “The king is dead, sexy angel,” he said, brushing her other cheek with the back of his hand. “Just you then?” she asked in a disbelieving whisper. “Just me,” he told her. Jacey couldn’t stop more tears from escaping her eyes and traveling over her cheek as she whispered, “Okay, then.” “Okay, then,” Scott whispered. "And now that it's understood…" he whispered as, for the very first time, Scott kissed her. A young lifetime of waiting ended, every ‘Kissing Scott Pendleton Dream,’ Jacey ever had was realized in that moment. The feel of his lips pressed to hers, the way his hands held her face, the scent of his cologne—faint at the end of the day, his soft whiskers on her cheek. All of it was magically, dream-born and perfect. Carefully his arms wrapped around her body pulling her tightly against him and she let her hands be lost in the softness of his hair. It was plain he’d had more experience than she had, for he knew how to lead her into returning his kiss and her shy, novitiate manner soon gave way to a budding confidence. This was Scott, after all—her dream boy who owned her heart, as well as her best friend—starting running-back on the varsity football team, voted best looking by the senior class perhaps—but her best friend all the same. She’d loved him for as long as she could remember and now, somehow she’d managed to capture his attention in the way she’d only dreamed of. “Treat me like a fool, treat me mean and cruel,” Scott sang in a whisper against her lips as Jacey’s favorite Elvis song began anew. He kissed her again, then whispered, “But love me,” when the phrase repeated. Jacey felt another tear escape her eye, travel down her cheek and mingle with their kiss. “If you ever go, darlin’, I’ll be, oh, so lonely,” they whispered in unison to the song, their lips still touching. "Beggin' on my knees…all I ask is please, please love me." "I…I love you, Jace," Scott whispered and Jacey gasped with emotion as his mouth took her own in a driven, yet careful kiss. He kissed her over and over, each time the passion between them heightening. After several minutes he broke the seal of their lips and said, "I've…I've been waiting a long, long time for this." "You've been waiting a long time?" she exclaimed in a whisper. "I've been waiting my entire life!" "Really?" he asked, taking her face between his hands and smiling at her. Jacey felt ridiculous having melted into a mess of tears and emotion. She wiped at the tears on her cheeks, embarrassed at the outburst. "Yes, really," she told him, her breath catching in her throat. He smiled, brushing more tears from her cheeks with his thumbs before pulling her tightly against him. He still swayed slightly in rhythm with the music, and her tears renewed as he sang, "All I ask is please, please love me." "I do," Jacey whispered. "I've always loved you. I…I really can't remember a time when I didn't." "I…I was afraid you'd…you'd tell me to take a hike," he mumbled. "What?" Jacey exclaimed looking up at him. "You've…you've got to be kidding me." He smiled and shook his head as he moved a strand of hair from her face. "Nope…been sweating it out since I was…about fourteen." "What? You're still kidding me," Jacey told him. "Nope," he told her. "My first day of high school football practice…four years ago. Coach asked me what jersey number I wanted…and I knew. I knew I'd wait until you were sixteen…let you grow up, maybe reach an age where your parents might approve of us…you know…dating. I decided that day four years ago…I'd wait 'til you were sixteen…then I'd take my shot." Jacey could only stare at him, stunned into blissful silence. He smiled and held her away from him a moment studying the jersey she wore. "I started varsity my freshman year, you know." "I…I know," Jacey managed. "Well…this is the jersey Coach gave me that day. The day I decided, you were gonna be mine," he said. Jacey stood awe struck, gazing up into the deep blue of his eyes, the perfect pretty-boy masculinity of his face. Scott Pendleton was a dream and in that moment, Jacey's dreams had all come true. "Scott!" Jacey exclaimed throwing her arms around his neck as he lifted her, spinning her around. "I love you so much! I thought you would only ever be a dream to me." "So…so you're good with it then?" Scott asked, kissing the top of her head as he put her down. "You're good with me for…everything? Homecoming even?" Jacey smiled. "Homecoming?" she giggled. "Of course," he said, smiling at her. "Let's get those pumpkins sold so you can get that sexy angel dress at the mall you've been wanting." Jacey smiled as she placed her palm against Scott's cheek. Many were the nights she'd laid in bed of late, dreaming of wearing the white sequin dress at the mall for Scott and only Scott. Scott smiled and turned his face to kiss her palm. Putting her arms around his neck, she stood on the tips of her toes and kissed him softly on the lips. Instantly his arms were around her, his body leading hers to sway with his. "I would beg and steal…just to feel…you're heart beating close to mine," he sang with Elvis a moment before he kissed her again. Jacey knew there could never be anything in life that would ever match those moments, those wonderful moments when Scott had first kissed her, told her he loved her and why he'd chosen the number sixteen as his varsity football number. “Your mom is gonna kill me…if I don’t leave now…please love me,” Scott sang, deviating from the original lyrics as he took her hands in his and kissed her once more. He smiled at her, took the woven leather bracelet off his wrist, the bracelet all the starting varsity football players wore, and slipped it onto hers. Another tear traveled down Jacey’s face for she knew the significance of the gift. Varsity players only gave their team bracelets to their steady girlfriends. “You want it?” he asked, frowning. Could he really think there would be any chance she would refuse it? “Of course,” she told him. “I’ve always wanted it.” “Good. Then I’ll explain to Liz why I won’t be picking her up tomorrow night and you explain to Chris why he won’t be picking you up tomorrow night,” he said. “Okay,” Jacey said, brushing a tear from her face and smiling at Scott. He leaned forward and kissed her quickly on the mouth. “And there’s more where that came from, sexy angel,” he said with a wink before leaving closing the door behind him as he left. Jacey stood in her room, Elvis still singing, Love Me, unable to move for several moments. Could it have all really happened? Had she really won Scott? Would she wake up in the morning to find it had all be just a beautiful dream? But when Scott kissed her as he held his pickup door open for her the next morning, Jacey smiled. It was real! Scott Pendleton, was hers. Scott took Jacey's hand and led her up the bleachers. As they sat together holding hands and watching the junior varsity football game, Scott would periodically draw Jacey's hand up to his mouth and kiss the back of it tenderly. "So your good with me then?" he asked, smiling at her. Jacey placed one hand on his cheek and said, "I've always been good with you, Scott Pendleton. Just…just love me." Scott
winked at her then, bent and kissed her tenderly on the lips and
whispered, "You bet, baby."
Chapter
One Sitting up in bed, Jacey Whittacker wiped the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hands. Wincing at the ache in her heart renewed by the painful, dreamed memory, she took a deep breath, tossed the covers aside and got out of bed. "What's up, Jacey?" Nora groggily asked, raising on one elbow. "Nothing, girl," Jacey lied. "Just a bad dream. Go back to sleep. It's only seven." "You getting up for good?" Nora asked, laying back down and fluffing her pillow. "I've got class at eight and Prof Johnson will dock my grade if I'm late again," Jacey said. "It's days like this when I wonder how anyone ever goes to college beyond a bachelor's," Nora grumbled. "You said it," Jacey said as she shut the bathroom door. Burying her face in her hands for a moment, Jacey tried to dispel the vision of Scott Pendleton dominating her thoughts. Brushing more tears from her cheeks she frowned at her reflection in the mirror and whispered, "Jacey…get a grip." It had been four years since she'd last seen Scott. Four years since he'd said good-bye and left. Four years since the worst day of Jacey's life. Four years and Jacey still marveled at how her heart ached whenever she thought of Scott. Marveled at how her mouth still watered for want of his kiss. Watered not for want of a kiss, for she'd been kissed since her relationship with Scott had ended, but watered for want of Scott's kiss. Closing her eyes she could almost feel his arms around, almost sense the scent of his cologne, almost taste his mouth as her body, mind and soul ached with residual heartbreak. Although her dreams of Scott were far less frequent than they'd once been…each one hurt as deeply as the last. Especially the ones which manifest perfectly vivid memories like the one she'd just had.
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