A Love Letter to Whiskey Read online

  Jamie just grinned.

  “You’re so weird,” I said, getting in the last word on my feelings about the stupid pact.

  “Yeah, but you love me anyway.” He winked, stealing the Vitamin Water from the space between us and draining the last of it before leaning back on his hands again.

  I didn’t think too long about the fact that he’d said I loved him, or the possibility that he might be right. I didn’t think about the pact or what would happen in twelve years, because Jamie was leaving, and I was staying.

  Mom grounded me for the first month of that summer and I had to pay to replace the carpets, but I didn’t even care. It was worth it to have that first shot of Whiskey, to eat breakfast burritos on the beach and make stupid promises we wouldn’t keep.

  That was supposed to be the last night I saw Jamie Shaw.

  I let him go, just like I was supposed to, and I did my best to never think about him again. Not that summer when I saw him around town, not that fall when he left for California and I stayed behind, not even when I applied to Alder University knowing it was in the same city as the University of California San Diego. I avoided looking at his social media, too. Eventually, as senior year kicked into gear and my focus became my own graduation, I really did start to let him go.

  But as fate would have it, that wasn’t my last night with Jamie Shaw.

  Not even close.

  THE THING ABOUT WHISKEY is that the longer it sits in the barrel, the more it changes — and it never stops. Whiskey aged for two years is different from whiskey aged for ten, and no matter what year you decide to throw the towel in and pour up a glass, you can’t go wrong. Whiskey at a ripe age, young and full of character, is buzz-worthy. But whiskey aged, even just a little bit? Pure bliss.

  And don’t let the fact that some of the alcohol evaporates over time fool you, because when you taste that aged whiskey, it’ll burn just as deliciously as it did when it was young.

  I was strolling the rows of tables lining the student union walkway at Alder University in San Diego, taking fliers from a few of them, passing by others, when the barrel cracked open.

  “Hi!” the blonde seated behind the Campus Housing table said excitedly. “Are you picking up your housing information?”

  I did my best impression of Ryan Atwood from The OC, channeling the lip tuck and eyebrow raise of indifference. I was in California, after all. “Indeed I am.”

  “Great!” she answered too quickly, clapping her hands together. “Last name?”

  “Kennedy.”

  She went to work searching through the various envelopes lined up on her table and I bounced on my heels, enjoying the warmth of the sun mixed with the cool breeze. It was the last week of August, a normally hellish time in South Florida, but the weather was still mild in San Diego. Sun bright, a few white clouds floating by, breeze rolling in off the coast. It couldn’t be more than eighty degrees and I smiled at the feel of the light air, the humidity so much less stifling than that of Florida. I was officially in my new home for the next four years, and I knew immediately that I’d made the right choice choosing Alder.

  Alder University was a small, private campus, but a prestigious one. Tucked between the heart of San Diego and Imperial Beach and stocked with a plethora of options for undecided undergrads, it was the perfect college for me. I smiled again, hiking the same Jansport I’d used all through high school up higher on my back just as the perky blonde snapped her fingers.

  “Ah! Found it!” She plucked the folder out, checking its contents before looking back up to me. “Brecks, right?”

  My smile immediately fell with her question, along with my mood. I somehow forced a tight smile, but before I could even nod, another voice boomed my answer from behind me.

  “It’s B,” he said. His voice was smooth, oak infused and deeper than I remembered. I turned, words stuck in my throat, eyes wide as I drank him in. Every single inch of him, from his worn sneakers and basketball shorts to the soaked Alder t-shirt he wore, sticking to the defined ridges of his abdomen. My eyes trailed up over the faint stubble on his neck and jaw before they found honey whiskey pools. He slid up beside me then, crooked smile in place as he held my stare. “Just B.”

  Time stopped in that moment, and I couldn’t keep my eyes from tracing his features — his new, shorter hair, his biceps that had filled out considerably since the last time I’d seen them propping him up on the beach in Florida, the few inches he’d grown. His aura was different, cockier, more sure. I wish I could tell you I’d been smoother than the first time I’d met him on that running trail, but the truth was I couldn’t have been more obvious in my eye-assault, and he noticed, because when my eyes found his face again, he just cocked one brow and widened his grin.

  “You cut your hair,” I finally breathed, my body rejoining the world in a whoosh. It was like all the sounds of students and the birds in the California trees found me all at once, attacking my senses along with the brightness of the sun through my cheap sunglasses.

  Jamie chuckled, lifting his hand to just barely touch my face. “And you got a nose ring.”

  I smiled, still staring at him, still not listening to the blonde behind the table who was trying to give me important information about my new dorm room. Luckily, Jamie was listening, and he reached over to take the envelope and keys from her. He winked, at her, not at me, and that’s when I finally looked at her again.

  “Good to see you, Jamie. How have you been?” she asked, too eagerly, and I eyed her up and down slowly. Big blonde hair, 80’s-style curls, with bright blue eyes and skin tan enough to make me think it might be fake. She wasn’t as pretty as Jenna, but she had similar features, which made me turn to Jamie to study his reaction with her.

  “Oh you know, same old same. I think I got this,” he said, holding up the envelope in his hands. “Take care, Melanie.”

  Melanie all but swooned as we walked away from the table, and I fought hard not to roll my eyes. “I take it you two know each other?” I asked, nodding back to where she was still staring at him.

  He shrugged. “You could say that.”

  And the urge won over.

  I let my eyes roll, and Jamie laughed, hard and solid, the sound booming. Then, he stopped, eyed me, and opened his arms wide. “Come here.”

  “Ew,” I said quickly, shaking my head and walking forward. “You’re sweatier than two rats fucking in a gym sock.”

  “Oh come on,” he teased from behind me. “It’s just a little perspiration.” And then, I was off my feet and in the air, back pressed against the damp fabric covering his chest as he spun me around. I squealed, laughing and flailing until he put me down.

  “Why are you so sweaty? And why are you here?”

  “I just finished playing basketball out at the courts. And I go to school here. Which, I guess that makes two of us now,” he added, holding up the envelope from Campus Housing. I snatched it from his grip and flipped through the contents, holding out my hand for him to drop my keys into as my mind raced.

  “I didn’t know you went here.”

  “Sure,” he said. “It’s okay that you’re stalking me, B. Maybe I kind of like it.”

  “You wish,” I replied, nose still in the papers. “Seriously though, you were supposed to be at UC. What happened?” My fingers filtered through the folder as I waited for him to respond. There was information about my Resident Assistant and various activities planned for the semester as well as safety protocols. I was one of the few freshmen lucky enough to land a dorm room where I had my own room, but shared a kitchen and bathroom space with three other girls. I’d met one of them at orientation earlier that summer, but the others I’d only looked up on social media, so I was anxious to meet them.

  “Remember my uncle I told you about? The one who had connections at a university in California?” I nodded, and he grinned, opening his arms to gesture to the campus around us. “You’re looking at the same university my dad and uncle graduated from, both with their
degrees in Accounting. At first, my application was waitlisted, but my uncle knows a few of the guys on the Admissions Board, and he worked some magic.”

  “And now here you are,” I said, peeking up at him.

  His grin widened. “Here I am.”

  I shook my head, dropping my eyes to the housing packet again while my stomach did backflips. Jamie Shaw went to the same college as me. I didn’t know whether to feel lucky or cursed, and the ache in my chest wasn’t helping me decide. I’d avoided him since that night on the beach, letting him go, letting the idea of him go. He was Jenna’s, and then he was gone — end of story.

  Except now, it wasn’t.

  “So, you made it to California after all.”

  I looked up then, catching Jamie’s amused eyes with my own. “I guess I did.”

  Though so much had changed about Jamie, one thing that hadn’t was the way he stared at me — that expectant way, like he knew something I’d yet to figure out. I shifted under his gaze, suddenly hot, and was just about to ask how he liked it at Alder when I was picked up from behind for the second time.

  Mid-air, I knew exactly who it was who had me pressed against them as they spun me around, and it almost killed me that for the past ten minutes since I’d run into Jamie, I hadn’t thought about that person once.

  Because you see, I didn’t expect to see Jamie at Alder, but I was expecting to run into someone that day.

  My boyfriend.

  “Oh my God, I almost forgot how beautiful you are,” Ethan said when he dropped me back to the ground. He immediately dipped me back, pressing his lips hard to mine as a blush crept up on my cheeks. He stood me back up, hands framing my face, before Jamie cleared his throat.

  Ethan perked up at that, tucking me into his side and smiling wide at Jamie. “And I see you met my roommate!”

  I blanched at that, my eyes wide while Jamie’s were shielded beneath bent brows.

  “Jamie is your roommate?” I squeaked.

  “Yeah,” he answered, pointing his finger between the two of us. “Y’all know each other?”

  Jamie’s eyes hadn’t left mine, but they’d changed, grown cooler in tone somehow. “We went to high school together,” he clipped.

  I swallowed, studying Jamie’s face, wondering why he suddenly looked ready to kill something. “Yeah. He dated my best friend back in the day.”

  “Huh!” Ethan mused, grin still in place. “What a small world!”

  Jamie’s nose flared, his eyes bouncing between Ethan and me before they stuck hard on where our hands had laced together. “I was just heading back to the dorm to shower. I’ll see you later, Ethan.”

  “Later, bro.”

  Jamie glanced at me one last time before jogging off, leaving me stunned to silence beside his roommate.

  My boyfriend.

  Jesus.

  “Let’s get you moved in, babe,” he said, kissing my hair as he steered us away from the union.

  I had driven a tiny U-Haul truck here, convincing my mom that I wanted to do the trip by myself. It took almost a week with how often I stopped, but it was a nice road trip to do alone. It gave me time to think about the next chapter in my life, and I was excited to start writing it.

  I pointed the U-Haul out to Ethan when we reached the parking lot near my dorms. He got to work, talking to me the entire time about everything he couldn’t wait to show me as I tried to stay focused and present. The truth was, I could only think about one thing. One person. The boy I wasn’t supposed to ever see again.

  I would never admit it, but even then, I was already itching for another taste.

  JAMIE DID A PRETTY GOOD job of ignoring me after that.

  I’d see him around campus sometimes, usually with his arm around a curvy blonde, which I’d learned quickly was his “type.” But whenever we’d find ourselves in the same place, whether it be his and Ethan’s dorm or a neutral space on campus, he somehow found an excuse to leave as soon as I showed up. We’d spent a total of maybe three minutes together since that first day on campus, and I was convinced he hated me.

  But I didn’t know why.

  The most obvious answer would be that he didn’t like that I was dating his roommate. But again, I found myself asking why? He’d dated my best friend in high school and I’d been nothing but supportive. Did he not like Ethan? Was he upset that I was a link to his past life in Florida, suddenly showing up to cramp his style? Was he upset I didn’t tell him before I got here? We hadn’t talked since that last day on the beach after his graduation, and I’d just met Ethan over the summer. I didn’t know Jamie even went to Alder, let alone that he was Ethan’s roommate, and it wasn’t even like Ethan had much time to tell him, seeing as how he was in Florida for the summer while Jamie had stayed at Alder.

  I worried myself sick with questions for a few days after our first encounter before worry turned to anger. This was Jamie, the boy I used to ride around town with, the boy who called me his best friend. And suddenly he was the world’s biggest prick. He’d gone from smiling and joking with me on that first day to avoiding me completely, save for the glares he would occasionally throw my direction on his way out when I’d be hanging out in his and Ethan’s dorm room. It was maddening.

  Whatever. He wanted to ignore me? Fine. I would ignore him right back.

  I was studying for my first sociology test about a month after school started when Jenna called. I smiled at the screen on my phone, flopping back on my bed to take a break and talk to my best friend who was an entire country away.

  “I miss you!” she squealed as soon as the line connected.

  “I miss you, too! How’s New York?”

  She huffed. “The city is amazing, the school work sucks, and the weather I haven’t decided on yet. How about you? How are classes? How’s Ethan?”

  “Classes aren’t bad, and Ethan is amazing. He’s been really busy with Student Government, but I see him almost every night and he’s been showing me a lot of the campus.”

  “You guys boning a lot?”

  “Oh my God, Jenna.” I rolled over, fingers tracing the lines of my pale-yellow comforter. My dorm room was small, but it had a door that separated me from my roommates, which was all I really needed in life. I had minimal decorations, my laptop the only thing that sat on my desk other than a photo of Jenna and me, and I had two motivational posters on the wall. The biggest embellishments were my throw pillows, yellow and white, and my lime green surfboard that leaned against the inside of my closet, begging to be used.

  “What? You lost your v-card this summer, B. I’m finally allowed to ask you about your sex life and I’m taking every opportunity to do so.”

  I rolled my eyes. “We’re boning a consistent amount, doctor, and I’m taking my birth control. Can we move on to something else now?”

  Jenna laughed. “Fine. If you were wondering about me, I haven’t hooked up with anyone yet, but I have my eyes on a few prospects.”

  “Thanks for the update, scout.”

  “So what else is new?”

  Jenna was attending New York University, on the literal opposite side of the country from me, and the more we talked about professors and campus dining, the more I missed her. It was the first time we’d been apart since we were toddlers, and I was still having a hard time building a friendship with my roommates. I had three of them, one a volleyball player here on scholarship from Virginia, one an animal-rights’ activist from northern California, and the other a soft-spoken Christian from Kansas. None of us had found much common ground to walk on yet, but I was trying to be hopeful.

  “When can I come visit you? I miss the beach already,” Jenna said with a longing sigh.

  “My twin bed is yours to cuddle in anytime you want it.”

  “I’m serious, I’m going to just pop up on your doorstep one day.”

  I smiled. “And it’d be the best day ever.”

  After our phone call, I shot off an email to Mom with details on how classes were going. Our schedul
es hardly ever lined up enough for phone calls, but we had been emailing pretty steadily. Interestingly enough, our relationship had grown stronger during my last year of high school. Part of that might have been me disconnecting my father from my life completely while the other part was likely from me finally forgiving her for my name. I wasn’t ready to embrace it again just yet, but after many late-night talks, I understood her motives. My mom had been a young, scared teenager when I was placed in her arms. And though I was born out of a tragedy, she found beauty in me, and she’d given up so much for me to chase my dreams.

  I earned a few scholarships that helped get me to California, but I had still fallen short of what I needed. That was, until I found out Mom had been saving for my college fund religiously since I was born. Dad didn’t have anything to offer me, other than a pat on the back at graduation, and I hadn’t spoken to him since.

  It hurt letting go of my dad, because for so long I’d lived in that space in-between, where I wasn’t sure how to feel about him or what he did to my mom. But even in that space, we’d grown apart, and I didn’t want the good memories I had with my dad to be replaced by awkward, tension-filled ones. So, I decided after graduation to just let him go. He’d only called once since then and I ignored it. Maybe we could reconnect later, but right now, I was content focusing on me for a while.

  I’d just picked up my flashcards again when my bedroom door swung open.

  “Ethan’s here,” Marie said without looking up from her phone. She was the animal-rights’ activist and the one I thought I’d get along with the easiest. I mean, I was getting a minor in Women’s Studies, embracing my feminist side, and she was trying to save kittens. We were a match made in heaven, right? Except she hadn’t said more than thirteen words to me. Including the two she’d just used to introduce my boyfriend.

  “Hey, beautiful,” he crooned as he let himself into my room, closing the door behind him.

  I smiled as he leaned down to kiss me, running my hands up his arms to hook around his neck. Ethan was strong, built, not much taller than me but so solid. His skin was the same as my mom’s, dark and smooth, and he had full lips that I loved to kiss. He also had what I liked to call a “News Anchor Smile”, blinding white, almost too wide and genuine for comfort.