Every disaster in my life started with the letter J.

First, there was Joey. A nice boy with not-so-nice love language. After I explained to my mom how I got chewing gum in my hair, she said Joey wasn't worth it, and I nodded in agreement watching her cut off my pigtails.

Then there was Jared. An aspiring rock star who dreamed of making it big and conquering the world with his songs and bad boy looks. The world resisted his charm, but Ivy Madden didn't. Neither did my virginity. I was seventeen; it's not like he had to try really hard to impress me. Some sweet words and a few songs were enough. Eventually, Jared decided bigger things were waiting for him, and he was too young to settle down. My naïve heart broke, and I stayed away from guys. 

Until Jackson, who was currently moving between my legs.

“Ivy.” He groaned, rolling onto his back, his chest rising and falling fast. 

I looked at him in disbelief. That was it? What about me?

Jackson didn't seem to notice how far from satisfied I was. He slid both hands through his dark hair and yawned, sitting up. “I'll be back.”

Sadly, I knew what he'd do next—he'd go to the bathroom, then return, put on the TV, and ask me if I wanted pizza. It was hard to believe we'd been dating for just a few months—sometimes it felt as if we'd been together for way longer. So long the relationship became predictable.

Boring, Ivy. It was boring.

But here's the thing—boring wasn't necessarily bad. At least I knew what to expect. He wouldn't dump me like Jared because that'd mean being spontaneous, which wasn't Jackson's thing. 

I pulled the sheet up to my chin and lay still, my gaze wandering around Jackson's room. He shared the house with his three friends, but they were often out, and we had way more privacy than in my apartment. The interior designer in me cringed at the bright orange walls, but now I was kind of used to them, like I was used to bad sex. 

“Ivy,” Jackson said, exiting the bathroom. “I forgot to ask you. Are you on a pill?”

“You know I'm not. Why?”

“Nothing.” He rubbed his face with his palms. “Pizza?”

My phone vibrated on the desk. “Hand me my phone, please,” I said, sitting. Jackson tossed it onto the bed and grabbed the TV remote. 

I unlocked the screen. A text was waiting for me, and relief swathed me when I saw who sent it. 

Ava: Hi there! Jim and the band guys are asking if you and Isla would like to go to the club with us tonight. Jackson can come, too. It'd be great to meet him.

Ava and Isla were my childhood friends. We met in primary school and had been inseparable since. Life was way more hectic now, though, and we didn't go out as often as before.

Ava's invitation was just what I needed. Not only because she was dating the frontman of Rebellious Hearts, the band every girl my age loved, but because it'd been forever since I had some fun.

“Jackson,” I said, resting my phone on the mattress beside me. “Ava is asking if we want to go to the club with her and the band guys.”

Jackson paused the movie he started watching and looked at me over his shoulder. “When?”

“Today,” I said. “Well, tonight.”

“I was going to study with the guys.”

I sighed. “It's Saturday. Can't you guys study tomorrow? I wanted to finally introduce you to the girls.”

Jackson stood and walked to the bed. He was already dressed in sweats and a hoodie, and I was still naked, unfair as it was.

“I don't wanna go, Ivy,” he said, sitting next to me. “I don't know those band guys.”

He couldn't be serious. “Don't you want to meet them?” I asked. “You know who they are, right?”

Jackson shrugged. “Yeah, so what? You can fangirl without me. I'd be out of place there.”

“I didn't think you were shy.”

“Seriously,  go without me. I'll meet your friends some other time. I've got lots to do,” he said, ignoring the sarcasm in my last remark. 

“Fine,” I muttered under my breath. “Whatever.”

Jackson leaned in and pecked my cheek. “Cool. Have you changed your mind about pizza?”

“I think I'll go home,” I said. “I need to get ready for tonight.”

“Have fun.”

I tossed the sheet aside, rose from the bed, and picked up my clothes scattered on the floor. “I will.”

That was my plan—I'd go, meet the band guys, dance, and act like any twenty-year-old girl. That Jackson couldn't go with me didn't mean I'd sulk all day. I knew better than to be sad because of a guy for longer than an hour.

My phone vibrated again. Ava must’ve gotten impatient, or perhaps Isla thought I couldn't make up my mind and was texting to convince me. I glanced at Jackson who gave the TV his undivided attention and blew out a long breath.

If things didn't change, Jackson would be another addition to the disaster list.

Welcome to the story of Jay and Ivy! I'm happy to see you in another book of mine. This story will be updated once a week, and I really hope you like it💜