I Never Promised You A Rose Garden

Jared's P.O.V.

Jesse. How the hell could she be with Jesse? She’d never even met the guy before, and then she shows up to the party and not an hour later she’s curled up to him and they’re kissing.

I left the party in a huff, not wanting to lash out and let anybody know what was going on with me. It’s not like I had a right to be mad, we weren’t dating, but… shit, really? What was so wrong with me?

I drove back to the house, went up to my room and slammed the door shut before flopping into my bed. I needed to do something, but I didn’t know what. I knew I liked her, and while I’d told myself over and over again that she probably didn’t like me as anything more than a friend I couldn’t make it not hurt.

When I’d asked her to talk I was sure I’d finally get a chance to explain and get things back to normal, but then those two girls threw themselves at me. I still hated that, but I didn’t know how to make them leave without being a total douchebag to them. Of course, Kassidy being the polite person she was, told me I should just go dance. It wasn’t too bad at first, until the blonde chick tried to stick her tongue down my throat. I’d pushed her away as politely as I could, and made a quick exit for the front porch where I knew a few of the guys would be. Right after I came inside I saw her with Jesse, and my heart had sunk down again, because I knew I wouldn’t get to talk to her.

My cell rang, startling me as I’d been laying there for a good ten or twenty minutes. I thought about just turning it off and ignoring the call, but when I saw it was my brother I figured I better answer.

“Hi Marc,” I answered.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked, obviously noticing something in my voice. I heard him banging around, and wondered what he was doing up this late; it was probably ridiculously early in New York.

“Girl problems,” I sighed, and heard him chuckle a little.

“What did we tell you? Take a Tylenol and drink some tea and your cramps will go away,” I could hear the smirk on his face.

“Goddamnit Marc! That’s not what I’m talking about it and you know it!” I growled at him, and his chuckle was gone.

“Jesus, calm down… I didn’t realize it was something this serious,”

“Yeah well, if you didn’t always make fun of me maybe I would have had a chance to say something,” I grumped.

“Okay, okay; what happened? Tell me,” Marc said, and I heard the weird squeak his couch made when he sat on it.

“Well, there’s this girl, Kass, and we’re really good friends,” I started, only to be cut off.

“It’s that girl? The one Eric and Tanya and mom and dad met?”

“Yeah, her,”

“Okay, this makes so much more sense now!”

“MARC!”

“Sorry! Continue,” he said, a little impatient with me. I told him a little bit about her and how much we hung out, that sort of thing. And then managed to choke out about my idiotic attempt to kiss her.

“Jesus Jared; I thought we taught you better than that,” he sighed. I huffed, not wanting to hear about how stupid I was. If I’d wanted that I could’ve called up Jordan.

“I know, okay! It was stupid! I get it! If I wanted to be made fun of I would’ve ignored you and called Jordan,” I snapped at him, and heard him sigh again. I wondered why he was quiet for so long. I began to get nervous, wondering what had made him so quiet.

“Are you still there?” I asked quietly.

“Yeah, yeah I’m still here. Okay… so is that why you’re so upset? I thought you were going out to a party tonight?”

“Well, Eric invited her and her friend tonight, so that we might be able to talk. We didn’t get to, and then the next I know she’s cuddled up on the couch with Jesse and they were kissing,” I mumbled.

“Oh… dude that sucks,” he blurted, making me groan. I knew I should’ve talked to Eric about this, he was always way better at this kind of stuff.

“No shit Sherlock,”

“Sorry. I don’t know what to tell you Jay, I really don’t. If you really care about her you’ve gotta let her know,” he told me, and I sighed, running a hand through my hair.

“And how am I supposed to do that when my teammate is involved?” I asked.

“That I’m not sure. Ask him about it – if he knows you’re kind of there first maybe he’ll back off,” he suggested.

“Okay, thanks Marc. By the way, what the hell are you doing up?”

“Just got back from Philadelphia when you called, which, uh, reminds me, I need to get my ass to bed; I’m whipped,” he yawned, and we said goodnight and hung up.

I rolled onto my back and stared at my ceiling, trying to think. How was I going to let her know how I felt without getting emotionally steamrolled or made fun of or rejected?