Chapter Seventeen

Malina

I was digging through my locker when I felt someone come up behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and did this kind of melty thing that I wasn’t entirely proud of and probably couldn’t quite hide. How had I ignored my feelings for Jackson? How did I let girl after girl kiss him without realizing that I was the one who should be kissing him?

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey.”

“Can I…” He hesitated. “Can I kiss you?”

The fact that awkwardness was radiating off him in waves was kind of cute. Instead of answering, I leaned in and kissed him. Goose bumps immediately formed on my skin for reasons that had nothing to do with the temperature of the school hallway. The kiss might not have been a surprise or out of anger, but it still felt right. The awkwardness melted away when his lips pressed against mine, soft and sure. He tasted sweet, like mint toothpaste and everything that was good in the world.

When we pulled apart, I smiled. “Are you going to ask my permission every time you want to kiss me?”

“Sorry,” he said, looking down at the ground. “It’s different. Between us. You know? Because—”

“I know this is a little weird,” I said, “but I’ll save you the trouble. The answer will always be ‘yes.’”

He smiled and leaned in to kiss me again, this time without asking.

A sudden voice behind us made both of us jump and pull apart.

“What the fuck am I looking at? My eyes! My eyes!”

Relief washed over me when I realized who it was. “Izzy,” I said, exasperated. “Why would you do that?”

She was wearing leggings, a hugely oversize sweater, and the biggest shit-eating grin I’d ever seen on her face.

“Because I can,” she said.

“Nice,” Jackson said with an eye roll.

Izzy stood to her full height and turned to Jackson, arms folded across her chest. “You. What exactly are your intentions with my best friend?”

“To make her fall in love with me, knock her up, give her an STD, and then break her heart,” he deadpanned.

“Jackson,” I said, poking his side. “Don’t.”

Izzy held up two fists. “I will beat you up.”

“I believe you,” he said. Then he put an arm around my shoulders. “But you won’t need to, because my intentions are exactly the opposite of everything I just said. Except maybe the ‘love’ thing.”

Even though we were far from saying we loved each other, even hearing him say the word made my heart swell with hope for the future. I leaned into him. It felt so nice being at Jackson’s side. It felt nice belonging at Jackson’s side.

“Good,” Izzy said. Then she grinned. “It’s about damn time, you two.”

“Sorry, but we were busy being friends,” I said.

Izzy rolled her eyes. “You and I both know a guy and a girl can’t be friends unless one or more is gay.”

“Hey, we were just friends since elementary school,” Jackson said.

“Yeah, and look at you now. Sucking face. Burning my retinas.”

“What,” Jackson said, “you mean like this?”

He used one finger to tip my chin up. I let my eyes fall shut right before he kissed me, soft and sweet and making me wonder again why we’d waited all those years to do this.

“Come on,” Izzy said with a moan. “Get a room.”

Jackson smiled against my lips before pulling away. He was still smiling when I opened my eyes and looked up at him.

“Sorry, Iz,” I said. “It’s his fault.”

“I know it is, and I don’t forgive him. But I do get to leave because I have an appointment with Mrs. Braxton. That woman gave me a B+ on my last Shakespeare paper.”

I grabbed the last book I would need out of my locker and closed the door. “A B+ is good, isn’t it?”

“No. It’s scholarship season. A B+ is terrible.”

Jackson leaned against my closed locker door. “Wait, I’m in that class with you. Aren’t you the one who bragged that you didn’t even read Hamlet?”

Izzy scuffed one foot against the floor. “Well, yes, but that doesn’t matter. I did some damn good writing in that paper. Should have been an A- at least. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck,” I said. As she walked away, I said, “And read the book next time.”

She didn’t even bother turning around as she waved me off. Sometimes the girl was too smart for her own good.

I leaned against the locker next to Jackson. He intertwined my fingers with his. One of our classmates shot us a dirty look as she walked by. My stomach flipped. I couldn’t remember the girl’s name, but I did remember that Jackson had dated her. Was that the end of last year or the beginning of this year? It might have been the first dirty look I’d gotten from one of Jackson’s exes, but I knew it wouldn’t be the last. It was something I was going to have to deal with.

He toyed with the new bracelet on my wrist. “This is pretty,” he said. “Very Hawaiian.”

“Isn’t it great? Tutu weaved it for me.”

“She’s amazing.”

“She definitely is.” I toyed with the bracelet for another second before letting my arm drop. “So, what are you doing tonight?” I asked. “Want to hang out? I think we need to go on a date where we don’t yell terrible things at each other.”

He laughed. “We do. Unfortunately, it’s a Terrible Trio night.”

“Terrible Trio” was the name Jackson had given to the marathon hockey nights where the guys started with off-ice conditioning, took a break for food and a boring team meeting, and then went to on-ice practice. They didn’t happen often, but he wasn’t a fan of them when they did.

“What time will you be done?” I asked.

“Nine,” he said. “But honestly, by the time I shower and eat, I’ll be ready to collapse for the night.” He squeezed my hand. “Sorry.”

My heart sank. I hoped my disappointment didn’t show on my face. “That’s fine,” I said, forcing myself to believe the words. “I have a ton of homework and scholarship work to do anyway.”

“What are you doing tomorrow night?” he asked. “I have practice, but it only goes until seven.”

I consulted my mental calendar. “I have a STEM meeting that starts at seven,” I said.

He grinned a little. “You know, I think we’re going to be really good at this ‘dating’ thing.”

I elbowed him playfully in the ribs. “Stop. We’ll be great. We can go out this weekend, right?” I’d planned to spend all weekend working, and I had my scholarship interview, but surely I’d be able to find a couple of hours to spend with Jackson. I’d make a couple of hours to spend with Jackson.

“Yeah,” he said. “I have a home game Friday night. Will you be there?”

“Sure,” I said. At the beginning of the season, it wasn’t much fun to go to Jackson’s games. They’d lost over and over again, mostly due to Pierce’s struggles. But he’d turned around whatever the problem was, and they were on a winning streak. Hopefully I wouldn’t have to watch this game from between my fingers.

“Good. Because I need you in the stands to cheer me on. And we’ll find a time to go on a real date. I promise.”

“I believe you,” I said.

Then he grinned at me. Just stood there and grinned.

A self-conscious feeling made me run my tongue along my teeth, as if I’d missed a giant piece of spinach when I brushed them this morning. “What?”

“This,” he said, with a little shake of his head.

“What?” I asked again, still not getting it.

“You. Me. This.” He leaned down and kissed me, short but sweet. “I’m happy. Are you happy?”

If the way the force of gravity suddenly seemed a lot less than normal wasn’t happiness, I didn’t know what was. “Very,” I said, and kissed him again.

“Remember, juniors and seniors, you can enter one project into the scholarship competition. However, a win in one of the categories does not guarantee a scholarship win, and a scholarship win does not guarantee a win in one of the categories.” Mr. Palmer was one of those teachers who made you appreciate natural speaking voices—ones with inflection, animation, enthusiasm—simply because he didn’t have any of those things. As the STEM coordinator, he was definitely part of the T, which meant he spent more time with technology than he did with other people. That was saying something, considering he spent much of his time interacting with students.

“Any questions about the scholarship part of the competition?”

I raised my hand.

Mr. Palmer nodded at me. “Yes…Miss…”

It wasn’t any surprise that, even though this was my fourth year involved in the STEM program, Mr. Palmer couldn’t remember my name. It definitely wasn’t personal. The guy couldn’t remember to trim his nose or ear hairs, let alone remember any of our names. Though I wasn’t in any of his classes, I assumed he gave everyone an A simply because he couldn’t tell students apart.

“It’s more of a general question,” I said. “Is that okay?”

He motioned for me to continue.

“Do our projects have to be completely finalized by next week?”

“Yes. You may still make minor tweaks up until the day of the competition, but the vast majority of the project must be complete so we can determine which projects will be selected in each category.”

I wasn’t so much worried about the “will my project be selected” thing. My project could fit into many different categories, and seniors’ projects tended to be the first picks. Plus, my project should be impressive. If I could get it working. That was the part that had me worried.

Ever since that first, accidental kiss, I’d been spending too much time thinking about Jackson. Wasting hours that I really should have spent working on the project. Working on scholarship applications. I’d read an article recently that broke down different jobs and loans and found that without scholarships, most people were financially better off not going to college than going and being unable to pay loans. The job with my dad’s car company? It would barely be enough to pay off loans. Barely. But at least I’d have one foot in the door. Most college graduates didn’t even have that.

“Miss…?” Mr. Palmer said, interrupting my thoughts.

I jolted. The meeting was over. Most of my classmates were gone, and the last few were packing up their things.

“Sorry,” I said, immediately closing my notebook and shoving it into my bag.

“It’s okay,” Mr. Palmer said. He studied me. “Are you still working on the scientifically accurate light-reflecting solar system controlled by the app?”

Go figure. The guy couldn’t remember my one syllable last name, but he could remember exactly what I’d been working on for the last year. “Yes,” I said.

His face lit up. “Good. I can’t wait to see it.”

Yeah, I thought.

You and me both.