Page 14 of Mic Drop (Passionate Beats #3)
Once we’re airborne, Ashley brings my drink and I retreat into my thoughts. About Faith, and how she’s accepting her fate, however awful it is. About Jenna, and how she’s letting go of the things she can’t control. Plus, accepting the expertise of UC’s PR team.
I pull out the new cell and text Luke about having the PR team help Jenna. Gotta love traveling by private jet, where telephone restrictions don’t exist.
In the silence, it hits me full force. I’m going to be a husband. More to the point, Jenna’s husband. I somehow managed to get this amazing woman to fall in love with me. By saying yes, she’s agreed to stay with me forever. Something no one else has ever done for me.
My phone pings with an incoming text.
JENNA
I love you with my whole heart. I cannot wait to be your wife.
What we have is forever. I let this truth sink into my soul. Yes. We’re the forever I’ve never had.
Right back at you.
I take another sip of my Manhattan, calming as it slides down my throat. I need to figure out how much time I can spend in Aroostook, especially with her mother’s condition. The ping of another text interrupts my planning.
LUKE
Of course, although they’re busy with the whole new Lissa interview. Have you seen it? Any ideas about how to combat what she said?
I didn’t see it. Jenna told me about it, though.
Here, I’ll send you the link.
Once it arrives, I watch Lissa spew even more lies. Fuck. What on earth did I ever see in her? Although now she’s much more plastic than in high school. She always was concerned with her appearance, making sure to have the latest haircuts and doing her makeup to align with the latest trend.
She was smart enough not to put out that we actually went to the prom together. Saying we did something private means there were no photos. Damnit.
What if she gets her high school friends to corroborate her lies? I was such a loner back then, the only friend I had was Curtiss. The double-timer who stole Lissa from me to go to the senior prom. Love how she didn’t mention that fact in her interview.
There must be a way to refute her story. Five minutes later I’m still stewing when I get another text from Luke.
A Curtiss Fanone reached out to me via socials. I was about to set him loose but he said he can refute what Lissa’s saying. Do you know this guy? How do you want me to respond?
I unclick the seatbelt and walk to the other side of the aircraft. What should I do? I itch to reach out to Jenna, but she has enough to deal with. Curtiss told Luke he knows Lissa’s lying? Should I trust him? It’s not like I have more options. Or any.
Did he give you his number ?
A second later, Luke texts it to me. I stare at the digits for a long while, debating what I should do next. Aside from my mother, he’s the only other person I can think of who knew the truth back then. Mom’s never going to help me. Can I trust he will? Probably not, but who knows?
On an inhale, I sit and FaceTime the number. Might as well get the visual as well as the voice. Curtiss picks up, squinting into the camera. “Hello? Bennett, is that you?”
His voice is deeper than I remember, but he was only eighteen the last time we spoke.
He’s lost most of his previously full, blond head of hair.
From what the camera picks up, he’s no longer the same fit guy he was back in high school, either.
He now wears the glasses I ditched to become a rock star.
“Hey. Yes, it’s me. Heard you wanted to talk?”
“Damn. You’ve aged well. I’ve seen your videos and concert clips, of course, but you look a bit different from high school.”
No use lying. “So do you.”
He lets out a nervous laugh. “Yeah, well, I left tennis behind years ago.” He rubs his balding head. “Together with most of my hair.”
How should I respond to this? I decide to get him to talk about Lissa. “So, my manager told me you wanted to discuss Lissa.” Can’t help it. Her name comes out like a curse.
He changes the camera angle. “Listen, I’ve been seeing her everywhere talking about how you two were high school sweethearts. Which isn’t a lie.”
One point for her. “That’s the only truth she’s been spewing.”
“Agreed.”
I sit up. Is there any way this man I don’t recognize could help me out? After what he did back in high school, his track record sucks. Still, he owes me one. Or twenty. “I’m listening.”
Curtiss moves around again. “I know she didn’t go to the junior prom with you because she went with me to the senior prom, and not due to her self-described money issues. ”
Gotta give him props. At least he didn’t walk away from the truth. “Yes. You asked her out, knowing we were a couple.” I can’t keep my animus from years ago at bay. “Some best friend you turned out to be.”
“I know it was a shitty thing for me to do. She was your girl, but I was the king of the tennis team back then and wanted a beautiful lady on my arm. Lissa was the prettiest one I knew. Even though she was yours, I couldn’t help myself.
I figured, if she agreed to go with me, you two weren’t meant to be. ”
Can’t argue with this logic, considering I just asked Jenna—not Lissa—to be my wife. “Guess that’s one way of looking at it.” I run my finger around the rim of my glass.
“I tried to call you about it several times, but you never returned my calls.”
I scowl. “I wasn’t interested in talking.” Then. “Get on with your story.”
“Fine. I went to the senior prom with Lissa. We hung out. She fed me some line about not wanting to have sex until marriage.”
At least she told him the same thing as me. “Told you.”
“You did. I figured after I graduated, you and I would work things out. But your father—” He trails off.
No need to relive this part of my life. “Yeah.”
“And you went underground. I actually drove to the funeral but couldn’t bring myself to go inside.”
My hand fists. How do I respond to this? “It’s all a blur anyway.” Why did I let him off the hook?
“Then you were working at the amusement park. The next thing I heard, you were dropping out of high school to join a band. I was off to college on a tennis scholarship. Our lives went in different directions.”
Enough memory lane shit. “How does Lissa play into this, Curtiss?” I deserve props for not adding a hiss to the end of his name. Or hers.
He pushes his glasses up his nose. “After your father died, Lissa came to me. All weepy. Said she didn’t know how to help you. Felt she let you down by going to the prom with me.”
My fingers strum on the armrest. When he doesn’t continue, I prompt, “And?”
“Well, she needed comfort. So did I. We, we had sex.” It’s as if Río did a rimshot to punctuate his admission. “Throughout the summer, we were together. When I came home on college break, it continued.”
“Bully for you. Hope she was worth it.”
“I didn’t tell you this for any other reason than context. You know how Lissa was, always concerned about her appearance and stuff. After you took off with the band, she dove in deeper. Adding hair extensions. Going for plastic surgery on her nose.”
“I noticed something was different with her face, but I missed the nose job. She must’ve had some good surgeon.”
“Yes, he was good.” He takes off his glasses, revealing tiny lines around his eyes. “About this time, she decided she wanted to become an influencer. Untamed Coaster was an unknown, and I think she was trying to show you what you were missing.”
I huff. “Just what I needed. Another crazy in my life.”
Curtiss doesn’t respond to my comment, although he acknowledges it with a nod. “She met with a bunch of modeling agents trying to break into the business. All of them told her she had to drop at least ten pounds.”
I frown. For all her faults, Lissa never had an extra ounce of fat on her body. “From where?”
“That’s what I told her. She ignored me, though, and started taking diet pills. Laxatives. Anything so she could shed the imaginary pounds.”
Ashley comes by and takes my glass. Wordlessly, she asks if I want a second, but I shake my head. I need all my wits about me now. “Go on.”
“Well, throughout it all, we continued to have sex during my college breaks. I can’t be sure, but I think she also dated other guys in high school.”
More to myself than to him, I say, “Lovely.”
“Yeah. I was getting ready to break things off with her when she told me she was pregnant.”
I sit straight up. She was pregnant? “There was a baby? It was yours? The one she’s been telling the world was mine?”
“I can’t be sure. I believe the baby was mine.”
“What happened? Did she also have the miscarriage she’s claiming?”
“She did.” He pauses. “I’m convinced it was from the diet pills she was taking. Her body was super-thin at this point, and whatever hormones the pills put in her body couldn’t have helped.”
I take in everything he’s telling me. He was the father. Her obsession over her body contributed to her miscarriage. Still, it’s his word against hers. Unless. “Do you have any proof of this?”
He looks straight at the camera. “That’s what prompted me to reach out to you.”