We're Not Related Anymore...

Rushed Plans

Jacob: Present Day

When I get to the house, I'm glad to find everyone out. Mom's at work and the girls are staying with friends (How they are able to have mutual friends while being so different never fails to astound me). I start packing my bag, trying to understand my own actions.

What possessed me to drink so much? Fuck, it makes this all so much harder. But the truth is, even though I want to do this, to see Maddie and clear the air, there's a part of me that's so nervous that I can barely function. It's the same nervousness that had me drinking beer after beer trying to steel myself to get to this point. 

The fact that she never even sent me a text back worries me. If she can barely send me a message, how will she react when I show up at her work? Will she feel ambushed?

I don't even know where she lives for God's sake. All I have is a worn piece of paper Tessa gave me several weeks ago. On it, she scribbled Maddie's number and the place she works at. It's a restaurant called Allesandro's. I google it once my bag is packed with whatever things I can find. What do you pack for a trip like this? I don't even know how long I'm staying.

I swing my bag over my shoulder, running down the stairs when I see the front door open. It's my mom. I was hoping I could leave without running into anyone. I was going to send a message on the family group chat with some excuse. 

"Are you going somewhere?" She asks when she spies the duffel bag I've got on my shoulder. 

"I thought you were at work?" My mom didn't agree with all the people who told her to take some more time before getting back to work. She says keeping busy keeps her mind off things.  "And yes, I have an interview in L.A. Super important. Life changing," I say, walking the last few steps between us. 

"Why didn't you tell me before? How long will you be gone?" She asks, looking around me as if the house has the answers she needs.

"It just came up. It depends on how well things go. Listen, I have to sort things out at the garage but I probably won't see you until I get back."

"Jacob, you can't just leave like this. I need more information," she says, setting down her briefcase on the floor. 

"Do you want me to stay?" I ask, wondering if this has something to do with Keegan's passing. Maybe she doesn't want to be left alone in the house. 

"No," she says, sighing. "I'm just... taken aback. But you can go. Just let me know when you are safely there. When's the flight?" 

"It's in two hours," I say. That's what you get when you book flights when you're drunk as shit. 

"But L.A.?" She repeats dubiously and I know exactly where her mind is going. It's why I didn't tell her the truth. 

Something in my gut has been telling me to keep this visit to see Maddie quiet. Ever since I found out it was Betty who outed our relationship in the first place, I've been looking around at the people closest to me. How many other people in my life tried to sabotage what I have with Maddie? Because, let's be honest, there was no one that approved. 

"Yes, L.A." I enunciate the word before I go over to give her a kiss on the cheek. "Please call me if you need anything. I'll come right home if you do." 

Even though she still looks like she's suffering from whiplash, her eyes soften at my words. 

"I hope your interview goes well," she tells me as I head to the front door. 

"I do too. Tell the girls I said goodbye."

I get a taxi to take me to the airport. The ride there and the wait in the airport is excruciating. I'm hungover as fuck and every small sound sets my teeth on edge. But to top it all off, my anxiety has turned up to one hundred. I'm now second-guessing my every move. The only thing that gets me on that plane is my dad's words from yesterday. She doesn't have to take me back, she just has to let me be a part of her life.