Giving Away by Lola King

CHAPTER 15

‘It’s you and me, there’s nothing like this

Miss Americana and The Heartbreak Prince’

Miss Americana and The Heartbreak Prince – Taylor Swift

Jamie

Two hours. That’s how long I’ve been waiting at the police station with Luke by my side. He finally got through to Emily, waking her from her drunken sleep, so she could bring me some clothes. She must be on her way now. We still haven’t heard from Jake or Nathan, both in custody.

“How’s Chris?” I ask. My voice is so quiet and raw from the lack of sleep and from screaming.

Luke sends him a quick text and the response comes straight away.

“Still at the ER, still waiting to be seen. Don’t worry, he’s tough. It wouldn’t be the first time he loses a tooth in a fight. In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s the same one every time.”

I appreciate his attempt at a joke, but I can’t get myself to even smile. Not when Jake is in there. Not after they found his gun on him.

“Look,” he puts a hand on my knee in a friendly gesture. “It’s not my place to tell you all of Jake’s life but I can sure as hell tell you about all the stupid shit we did together. He fires up at the slightest spark, so do I. We got in fights countless times over meaningless shit. Chris is always there to support our dumb choices even when we’re in the wrong. The three of us have lost teeth, got concussed, and know that shitty cell they put you into to sober up like it’s our vacation home. And don’t get me started on the times we got Rose out of shit she put herself in. The number of times we waited for her to be let out. It’s going to be fine, Jamie.”

“Was he carrying a gun all those times?” My cold statement forces him to retreat as he runs his hand through his bright blond hair, over his face, and rubs his eyes.

“No. No, he didn’t.” He pauses while thinking of all the outcomes possible.

I’m guessing this is what he does because he looks like how I feel, and I’ve been running through every possibility on how this could end.

Most of them lead me to Jake being in juvie. How is that fair? How can he live a fair life when it started with his parents leaving him behind? When he grew up in the foster system. When he got taken in by organized crime and was forced to follow their lifestyle. When he got a chance at a better life only for his shitty past to catch up with him. None of this is fair. None of this should have happened, even less because of me.

“This is Stoneview. It’s all about reputation. Everyone loves Jake. Mayor Simmons secretly wishes she could adopt him. And you know who loves him above all? Judge Joly. Emily’s mom. You know her, I know her, Jake knows her. There is no way in hell Jake is going away for carrying a stupid gun.”

I don’t know if I agree but his words do give me a glimmer of hope.

The glass door to the police station opens and Rose enters. She’s still wearing her long black silk dress from the ball. Only it’s creased, her white sneakers are now dirty from the party and she’s wearing a dark grey sweater on top of the dress. I don’t even wonder who it belongs to, especially when Sam enters right after her.

“Fuck,” Luke whispers. “Good thing Chris isn’t here. See? It all works out,” he jokes.

I wonder where he finds this optimism. I guess it’s just who he is. When Rose and Sam reach us, he stays slightly behind her, not willing to participate in any conversation with us.

“None of them are out?” she asks, surprised.

She puts her purse on a seat next to Luke and puts her hands in the pocket of the sweater.

“Nope. It’s only been like what–”

“Two hours and twenty minutes,” I cut off Luke.

“We’ve spent entire nights in there,” Luke insists, and I know he’s trying to get Rose on board to reassure me.

Rose runs her hands through her hair and she and Sam share a look. She’s worried. Rose White is concerned and there is nothing that scares me more.

“Yeah, but we were drunk or coked up. Neither of them is.” Her naturally hoarse voice hits me. Her statement is like an ocean wave: You don’t expect it to hit hard but the force always surprises you.

There’s a long silence. Even Luke can’t find anything to comfort us because she’s right; Jake didn’t have time to drink more at Cal’s and he wasn’t even tipsy in the car. Nathan was clearly sober.

“Rose,” a voice calls out. We all turn to a young police officer. I’ve never seen him before. He never worked under my dad. He and Rose seem to know each other though.

“Hey, Craig,” she says as she walks to him.

I’m the only one noticing Sam shifting from his phone to shooting daggers at Craig, but this is the least of my concerns right now.

It’s hard to hear their conversation, Rose is leaning against the reception counter and exchanging whatever secrets she has with ‘Craig’.

It becomes impossible to hear when the door opens again to Emily. She hurries to me and takes me in her arms straight away.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I was so drunk I just took a taxi and crashed as soon as I got home. Are you okay?” She pulls away, holding me at arm’s length, and checks me out from head to toe.

“I’m fine,” I reply. “We’re still waiting to hear anything.”

I’m fine. What a lie. I’m so far from fine. I’m on a speedboat towards the end of the world and fine is the land getting further and further out of view, and Emily can see it clearly.

“Right. Here, I brought you some clothes, you should go get changed.”

She’s wearing leggings and a long sweater under her expensive coat and I hope she brought me leggings too because I feel awfully naked under this dress. Probably because I am. I grab the backpack and make my way to the bathroom.

When I come back in one of Emily’s fluffy cashmere sweaters and her Lululemon leggings, Sam and Craig are in a heated conversation and Rose is next to them. Her eyes go from one to the other like she’s following a tennis game, but her face has paled.

I only catch a glimpse of their conversation but I’m too tired to try and comprehend why Sam is fuming at him.

“I don’t give a shit, Miller. Get him out of there.”

I haven’t often heard him speak but his accent somewhat makes everything he says harsher like you don’t have a choice but to listen.

“I get what you’re saying. But you can’t give me what I need, the only way I can do that is by calling–”

“Find another way, you twat.”

By the time I’ve reached my friends, Sam is talking in hush voices with Rose only. They seem to agree on something. He squeezes her shoulders reassuringly and drops a peck on her forehead as a goodbye before heading out. She walks back to all of us and crosses her arms across her chest.

“You guys should go,” she says to Luke. “Chris is still at Silver Falls’ ER. He’s going to be there all night. You should stay with him.”

I’m not sure if she’s talking to the three of us or just Luke and Emily but she’s crazy if she thinks I’ll leave before Jake gets out.

“You’re right. Come on, Em, I’ll drop you home.”

Luke gets up from his seat at the same time as Emily. She gives me a tight hug and promises to call tomorrow. Luke gives Rose a hug. “Call me when you hear anything.”

An hour later, the clock keeps ticking and Rose and I are still sitting in our exact same seats. While I keep my eyes on the clock, she keeps fidgeting, squirming on her seat, her foot tapping the floor. Every time I glance at her, she’s looking at the officer she called Craig and biting her thumb.

“What is happening? We’ve been waiting for hours,” I finally say.

Rose doesn’t reply. She keeps eyeing the only police officer at the counter. Further behind him, there are other officers on night duty.

“Rose,” I push. “What’s happening? What did you talk about with that officer?”

I know she’s not one to share but this is a different situation. Jake is going to jail. That’s all my brain says on repeat.

“Nothing,” she mumbles, her foot still tapping.

Why does she have to be so secretive when people talk to her? Like she holds the world’s biggest secrets.

“Do you know him? Can he help us?” I ask.

I hate when people make you beg for information. They’re usually seeking attention, withholding information in the hope of themselves being the topic of the conversation and it usually turns out that their information is useless. Rose isn’t like that though, she’s always the center of attention. She just wants to be left alone. And I have a feeling the information she’s withholding isn’t exactly useless.

“Help us get Jake out of being caught with a gun? I don’t think so.”

I roll my eyes at her sarcasm.

“No. Help us know what’s going on in there?”

“They’re being questioned,” she replies as if that was the most obvious thing.

It seems like there are only two kinds of conversations with Rose when you’re not her inner circle. Either she’s hitting on you or you’re bothering her by addressing yourself to her.

We fall back into a heavy silence until I can’t take the anxiety emanating from her anymore.

“Fuck, just tell me what you guys talked about,” I whisper-shout.

“Shit, Goody, you just swore.”

Really? That’s the only thing she notices? I swear all the time in my head, I just try to refrain myself in public. My dad was always so adamant about it.

“Because I’m so anxious and your stress is making me even more anxious.”

She stays silent for a few more seconds as if hesitating to tell me the truth.

“I don’t think Jake’s gonna get out. Nate will because no one is going to fucking sue him for beating the shit out of Jake. But gun possession, Jamie…They won’t let him out until he’s tried unless someone pays for his bail and I doubt anyone’s going to do that.”

“W-what does that mean? What about after he’s tried?”

I already know the answer because I’m not stupid, but my brain refuses to accept the truth.

She looks at me with a hard face and takes her time to look around before her gaze falls back on mine again. When she finally says something. It’s factual as if she’s a lawyer going over a problem with her client. She’s detached from what she tells me because her brain works faster than anyone else’s.

The first thing I did when I became president of the student council was to check Rose’s GPA. It’s wrong but I’m a curious girl and I needed to know if she was that genius everyone believes she is. 4.8, that’s how much of a genius she is. She doesn’t even try. She didn’t even want to take AP classes, the school insisted so they could bring up their average GPA.

For every minute she spends on her work, I have to spend an hour, and right now, her brain has already worked everything out.

“You’re a smart girl, Jamie. You know what happens. He’s tried, goes to juvie and they spit him back into the system if he’s not eighteen by the time he comes out.”

I can’t even take in the fact that Rose White complimented me because reality falls on me like a cold shower. My brain just won’t process that this is a likely possibility. I know she’s already thought of it, but I ask anyway.

“It doesn’t happen every time. He could get off with a warning or some community service maybe?”

“Sure,” she nods, and I can sense the lie.

She’s hiding something from me. I mean, she always hides things but this one looks like something I should know.

“Oh my Gosh, he’s got previous convictions, doesn’t he? He’s had warnings already.”

“Not my place to talk about,” she says in a voice that doesn’t leave any place for debate.

“The Murrays, they can help. Can’t they? They’ll at least pay for bail,” I try.

She scratches the back of her head then eyes at the police officer again. “Yeah…let’s hope.”

Why? Why just hope? They’ve been taking care of them for three years. Why wouldn’t they pay bail? It’s not like they don’t have the money.

She tells me I’m smart but clearly not enough for her to share everything she knows or why she’s cutting the conversation short. She knows there’s no hope she just can’t be bothered to discuss the details with me.

I want to ask more questions but she’s not acknowledging me anymore. She’s watching Craig picking up his cell to type in a number.

“Fucking asshole,” she mutters as she gets up. “Craig, hold on!”

This time I don’t want to wait for her to explain. I follow her to the counter because I know she’s too focused on him to worry if I’m overhearing her or not.

“Wait, please wait,” she says, not meaning that ‘please’ one bit but knowing men in power do love girls begging them to listen.

She tries to grab the phone from him, but he takes a step back.

“I’m still waiting for our foster parents to get back to me. Just wait. They’ll have the bail money for sure, there’s no need to call him.”

Craig looks at her with a sorry face, he doesn’t look so happy himself. He stops dialing and puts the phone down. “I’ll wait another thirty minutes.”

“Really?” Her tone turns manipulative as I can see that look in her eyes. The same she uses to get out of trouble at school or when she tries to get out of a red card during a lacrosse game. “It’s three am. Do you really want to wake him up at this time? It’s a forty-minute drive from D.C. You wake him up now, that’s his whole night ruined–”

“Rose, I’m going to have to call him for Nathan anyway,” he cuts her off.

Her jaw ticks and the dead stare she throws his way is anything but reassuring.

“As I said, thirty minutes,” he concludes.

She throws her head back in a groan before walking back to her seat.

I observe officer Miller for a few more seconds. He’s young, young enough that my dad would have never met him. His bushy black single brow raises in question as he looks at me. The uniform doesn’t suit him, there’s something not reassuring about him although he seemed to retreat when Samuel was talking to him. I turn around and walk back to my seat.

“What was that about?” I ask as soon as I’ve settled next to Rose again.

“Huh?” she looks at me like she completely forgot I was even in the room.

“You and this…this officer. Craig. Rose, give me something. What is all of this about?”

Her eyes lock with mine and the plethora of emotions is almost making me dizzy. There is a storm raging in her deep blue eyes. A fight of titans between fear and pride, confidence and uncertainty. She wants to win a battle she’s doomed to lose and she’s fighting herself to not ask for help. Why would she not? Is the Whites’ pride really that damn stubborn?

“Why didn’t you want to call the cops, Rose?”

For a second, I truly believe she’s going to tell me. Here and now, she’s going to open up to me so I can help, so we can sort this out together. So we can stay side by side, sharing our mutual love for Jake.

But she doesn’t.

“I need a fucking smoke,” she drops.

Of course she doesn’t. Because why would she open up to her twin’s brand-new girlfriend that insisted on hiding their relationship until tonight when she never even opened up to Rachel, whom she’s presumably in love with.

She grabs a pack of cigarettes out of her purse, throws the bag back on her seat, and storms out of the station, her silk dress wrapping around her long legs.

I look around in a sigh. My body is exhausted, but my mind is working overtime. What if Jake goes to juvie? His whole future will be compromised. He’s smart enough to get into an Ivy League college, he codes better than a professional. The potential he has at finally getting the life he deserves could be destroyed by a stupid fight. Over what? Pride? Resentment for his brother? Me? I would never forgive myself. Why did I engage with Nathan? Why didn’t I keep walking? I should have just kept walking.

Another half-hour of Rose fidgeting and checking her phone next to me, of me asking officer Craig Miller if there is any news and being told the same response: they’re being interrogated. Another half-hour. 4 am. Both I and Rose have sunk deep into our seats. Craig looks at the time, shakes his head, and walks over to us. Well, to Rose exactly.

“Anything?” he asks.

“Yes, Craig, I got ahold of them an hour ago, but I just love spending my nights here, so I didn’t say anything.”

He shakes his head again. His hands are in his uniform pants, but I can still make out that he’s moving his fingers in an anxious gesture.

“I waited a whole hour. I’m calling.” He sounds like he would rather jump from the silver falls than make this call.

“Sam is right, you’re so fucking weak,” she seethes.

He doesn’t say anything and just goes back behind his counter as Rose tries her best to kill him with her look. She doesn’t insist though, resolved.

“Who is he calling?” I try again. Maybe after the tenth time she’ll give in.

“No one,” she growls.

“Would they be able to help?”

She watches Craig pick up his phone and disappear to the back where we can’t see him anymore. She lets out a loud sarcastic cackle as she gets up from her seat.

“Yeah actually. They’ll help.” She grabs her pack of cigarettes again but this time her hands are shaking as she pulls out a cigarette and puts it in her mouth. She throws the empty pack on the seat. “No need for bail, no trial. The whole thing will just disappear,” she continues as she grabs her lighter. “Poof, like that.” She waves her hands in the air to imitate something disappearing by magic and a second later she’s out again, this time slamming the door hard enough to make me jump in my seat.

I can’t figure out if she was being sarcastic or not. Surely that’s impossible. To make it all go away? Yet, I can’t help but hope it’s true.

When she comes back in, the anger seems to have passed. She’s resigned but has a somber look on her face.

“How long ago did he make that call?” she asks me.

I check my watch for the millionth time tonight and look back up.

“About twenty minutes.”

“You should go.” I’m not quite sure I heard her right because surely, she can’t be telling me to leave.

“What?” I have to ask.

She can’t be serious. Does she not realize that I would wait a whole week if that’s what it took to see Jake? I’d stop eating and drinking, I’d sleep on the floor of this station. I’d throw myself in this interrogation room if it meant he would be out.

“Jake will be fine. But you should really go, Jamie.”

“I’m not going anywhere. If-when he gets out, I want to be here.”

She thinks for a second and seems to think it’s not worth the fight. “Whatever,” she mutters as she sits back down, her spine straighter this time.

She’s not even glancing at Craig anymore. She’s just looking at her hands, pressing them together on her knees as if trying to stop them from trembling.

Every now and then she takes deep shaky breaths and the anxiety pouring out of her is telling me nothing good is about to come.

“How long now?” she asks in a quiet, quivering voice that’s making everything in me tighten in fear.

“Fo-forty minutes or so,” I stutter. I’m scared, I’m genuinely scared of what’s about to happen because there is nothing but fright coming from her behavior.

“Right,” she swallows thickly. “Right. Okay.” She lets out a long breath as if trying to control her fear but it’s not working. None of what she’s doing is working. “You got a…um…a hair tie or something?” she asks, struggling to focus on her words.

I frown but quickly give her the hair tie around my wrist.

This is strange. Not the strangest thing that’s happened tonight but I couldn’t even count the times Rose and I fought on the field because she wouldn’t tie her hair up when she played or trained. ‘I fucking hate ponytails, don’t make me punch you, Goody.’, ‘If my hair is up my fan club will lose their shit’. I can’t count the excuses.

I have never seen her with her hair up. Even after all the times I’ve stayed over at her house.

Rose White.

She doesn’t try to, but she’s always perfect. Snap any moment of her day and it could be the cover of a magazine, and her hair is part of that. Her long, thick, and curvy inky hair are part of who she is.

“Th-thanks,” she mumbles as she grabs the hair tie from me. She scratches her throat, almost like she’s embarrassed that I caught her stuttering on a word.

“Rose?” I make an attempt to check on her even if it might backfire. “Are you okay?”

She chuckles quietly and smiles at me. “‘Course. I’m fine.”

Her smile almost seems real, but I know it isn’t. It isn’t because she and Jake could be the same person. They have the same dimples on their cheeks. When they both show, in the middle of their cheeks, their smile is genuine. When there’s only one, low, at the corner of their mouths, it’s the fake bullshit they put on for everyone who doesn’t know them.

Do I insist? Do I leave it? She doesn’t owe me any explanations. She starts pulling all her hair up and ties it in a high ponytail. It’s long and thick, like mine. She looks the same…but different. Everything right now about her is different. I see Rose and hear Rose but it’s like another girl is moving her body and saying her words.

“Rose, you’re being…weird?” Why am I asking her as if she would reply ‘Yes Jamie, dead on. I am not acting like myself at all.’

I don’t have time to think of it anymore. The door to the station opens and two men in black suits come in. They look like some sort of celebrity bodyguard, with their black ties and serious faces.

One of them steps sideways from the door and the other holds it open for a third man coming in. He’s wearing a grey fitted suit on an average body. Not too tall but not small, not big but just fit. He doesn’t look old enough to be my dad but much older than me still. His skin is tanned like Rose and Jake. That golden Mediterranean tan. His hair is the same as them as well, jet black, only his are peppered with bits of grey hair just above the ears.

His eyes land on us and a satisfied smirk forms on his face. I’m the only one who sees it because Rose is still facing me. Her eyes squeeze shut at the sound of the door closing. Everything is complete silence except for his leather expensive-looking shoes now hitting the floor as he makes his way toward us. She reopens her eyes and is looking directly at me.

“Jamie,” she whispers so quietly I’m not even sure I heard her. “Do me a favor. When Jake and Nate get out. Tell them I’m in Washington D.C. You got it?”

“Wh–”

“Keep that for me,” she cuts me off as she hands me her phone.

She gives me a sad smile and for the first time ever it looks like the most honest smile in the world. There’s no fake happiness in it, no fake innocence, no manipulation just…the truth.

A shape appears right behind Rose and I look up as the man in grey and one of the guards settle right behind her. The other one is still standing by the door, keeping an eye on the outside.

She slowly gets up, plasters a horrific artificial bright smile on her face, and turns around.

“Rose,” the man says in a relieved sigh. “My beautiful flower.”

He puts a hand on her waist and the other grabs the back of her head, right above her neck, as he brings her into a hug, pushing her head against his shoulder. Her arms, however, stay straight by her side.

“Mi sei mancato tanto. So so much.” His hand on the back of her head tightens and my eyes fall on a mark on her neck.

In thick letters, ‘M.B.’ are scarred just below her hairline, like it’s been burnt into her skin. My whole body shivers and I can feel my brows furrowing as things start to add up in my head.

M. B.

M. B.

Like Mateo Bianco.

The realization creeps up on me and it takes me three attempts to swallow the knot in my throat.

“Me too,” she replies when he lets her go. “Can we,” she scratches her throat, “can we just get this over with? I’ve been here for hours, I’m exhausted.”

“Of course, of course,” he says waving a hand in the air. “We need to get you to bed.”

The way he says this sends a chill down my spine. His voice is warm but there’s an underlying tone hinting that it’s all just fake. A tone saying the warmth in his voice instantly disappears if things don’t go his way.

He didn’t even notice me. I watch as they both walk to the counter, a hand still on the small of her back. Her posture is so stiff I’m surprised she hasn’t snapped in two already. I can’t take my eyes off that scar. Who would do that? Just brand someone like that? And why her? I know for certain that Jake’s only mark on his skin is that tattoo he shares with Sam, Nathan, and Rose.

Talking about that stupid gang tattoo. The man I’m assuming is Mateo unconsciously plays with strands of Rose’s ponytail as he signs some paperwork. On his right hand is that exact X tattoo they all have. That makes things pretty clear now.

He talks to Craig, who’s trying to make himself small, and finally, he gestures at the man in a suit next to him. The man grabs something from the inside pocket of his jacket and throws a wad of bills on the counter.

All in all, it must have lasted five minutes. The longest minutes of my life. The five minutes that felt like hours as I slowly realized who the man was, as I watched his hands in Rose’s hair and on her back, as I realized she was going to leave with him. Certainly not by choice, but she was leaving with him.

Five minutes where I re-ran the whole night in my head: her fear of someone calling the cops, her begging Craig not to call ‘him’, her anger, her resignation, her terror. Five minutes where I recall Jake telling me how horrible it had been at Bianco’s without ever getting into it. Five minutes of debating myself horribly: Do I do something? Say something? Will she let me? Will she be mad?

Five minutes where I remembered how this whole situation started and came to the same awful conclusion: it’s my fault.

When they both turn around, he finally notices me. Grey, steel eyes run through my whole body, sending chills of disgust all over my skin. He locks his gaze with mine and I raise my chin, doing my best to throw him my darkest look. Only, I know that for someone my size and appearance, that does absolutely nothing.

He finally lets go of Rose and walks toward me. As he approaches, I stand up and cross my arms over my chest, grateful for the heels I’m still wearing that give me extra height. Rose’s eyes widen behind Bianco and she shakes her head ‘no’ at me. As if warning me to not piss him off. Warning me to not go against him.

How? How can she be like this and just let this slide? She hurries to follow him and stands beside him.

“Now, who might be this little thing?” he asks.

Rose’s face turns to stone. “I don’t know, some bitch Jake is fucking at the moment,” she says. “I can’t remember her name.”

My heart drops in my stomach as Bianco laughs at her cruel words.

What is she doing?

“Right. If that’s it, then let’s go.”

Rose turns to him completely. “Are we not waiting for them? They’ll be out in no time now, surely.”

I can see she already knows the answer before she asks but she’s throwing her last hopes into this. “Per favore Mateo, cinque minuti.”

Her Italian sounds so real my mouth drops open in shock. For a second I’m wondering if she’s even American, if she was born in Italy maybe, before I remember that we don’t know. Not even her.

The man that I now know for sure is Bianco simply smiles at her, his voice silky smooth. “Don’t be ridiculous. They managed to get themselves in this mess on their own. They can find their way home on their own too.”

“Pero–”

“Speaking Italian to please me won’t bring out my good side, Rose,” he grounds. “I know your little manipulative methods by now.”

And there it is, the real voice. The coldness that just seeped from his mouth as he scolded her like a disobedient girl keeps both of us quiet.

“Now,” he says in a mellow tone again. “I think I’ve been nice enough to get them out of trouble. Don’t you think?”

She nods but I can see how tensed her jaw is, how her muscles tighten below her ears.

“Great. So, let’s go then.”

He smiles a goodbye at me and puts a hand on her neck, but she took her first step towards the door before he even touched her skin.

She’s leaving. She’s leaving with him like it was the plan all along. She didn’t ask him, he didn’t tell her to, she just knows. She said to not get the cops involved because she knew. She knew the minute we called them, one of the cops on Bianco’s payroll would get him involved.

She walks out the door without even as much as a glance back and I fear for her life.