Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 44725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 224(@200wpm)___ 179(@250wpm)___ 149(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 224(@200wpm)___ 179(@250wpm)___ 149(@300wpm)
“Yes,” I reply, ignoring the tight ball in my belly.
It’s been there for three days—the length of time since Jaxson sent me the text saying any man would be lucky to have me. Giddy feelings fluttered through me when I read his message. It was the closest he’s come to saying he’s attracted to me, but there was nothing in response when I sent him the text-bait of “really?”
I keep waiting, wondering if he’s going to text back. I even sent him some of my chapters, which was extremely nerve-wracking, but he hasn’t emailed either.
“Hmm,” Natasha says.
“Hmm? What’s hmm about that?”
Natasha raises an eyebrow. “You’ve read that page about ten times. I’ve been watching you, and you keep moving your sticky notes. You seem off.”
Natasha’s my closest friend. We went to high school together and stayed in the city for college, doing the same course. We take a few different modules, but much of our education overlaps. I don’t want to lie to her, but how can I tell the truth?
“You’re good at keeping secrets,” I state as a fact, not a question.
Natasha’s the only one who knows about my theory of Mom and Jaxson.
She nods slowly. “Yeah…”
“If I tell you something, you have to promise never to say anything.”
It’s just us in this corner of the library, but I keep my voice low. It’s not that I’m worried about the librarian telling us to shut up, though this librarian is fierce.
No, it’s the idea of somebody overhearing, of learning…
About what? A few texts and then getting blanked?
“Anything you say goes to the grave with me,” Natasha says.
“Jeez, that’s a bit extreme.”
She grins. “I don’t like half measures. So, what is it? Lay it on me.”
I grip the desk and lean back. “Do you think we can get some fresh air?”
“Whoa,” Natasha says as we walk through a nearby park together.
The sun is shining, sprinklers are firing on the green, and other students are walking by with stacks of books and heavy bags.
“Yeah,” I mutter.
“I thought you killed your crush?” she asks.
She’s very death-heavy today.
“I did,” I reply. “I stopped googling him years ago. Sure, I thought about him occasionally, but that’s it.”
“From what you’ve told me, this definitely sounds like flirting.”
“Really?” I ask.
“Talking about your ages, him telling you any man would be lucky to have you, talking about kissing…”
We stop at the bench near a pond, sitting and watching the ducks glide across the surface.
“But that doesn’t mean he’s flirting. Maybe he’s just trying to be nice.”
“Why is he texting you at all, Zoey? I get helping you with the Axel situation, but texting you late at night?”
“He’s a good man, though.”
“What does that mean?”
“He wouldn’t hit on his dead best friend’s daughter. That’s what it means, and he’s Mom’s ex.”
“You think he’s your mom’s ex? You haven’t gotten the full story.”
“Well, I’m not going to interrogate her about it.”
We sit quietly for a while, then I say, “I didn’t mean to snap, Nat. I’m sorry.”
She touches my arm softly. “Don’t be. I get it. You know what I think you should do?” She grins. “Show up at his place in a sexy outfit, watch him carefully, and then you’ll know. But wait. Don’t watch his eyes. Watch his—”
“Okay, okay,” I say, laughing before she can get explicit. “There’s no way I could do that. I’d melt with embarrassment.”
“He’d die too when all his blood circulation—”
“Please, enough.” My laughter has a somehow sad tinge to it, perhaps because I know, deep down, Jaxson would never react how I want him to. “Anyway, he hasn’t texted me back. Clearly, this is the end of whatever we were starting, and that’s probably for the best.”
“If he and your mom were together, but you still haven’t found that out for sure.”
“Every time I ask her, she freaks. She hates me for bringing it up.”
“Come on. That’s a little harsh.”
“Okay, maybe not hates, but she really doesn’t like it. She resents it and wishes I’d pretend it never happened. Why would she react like that if there was no truth to it?”
“I don’t know,” Natasha says quietly, “but we should probably head back unless we want to miss class.”
She’s right, and we walk back together. I try to focus for the rest of the day, aiming my attention at the lecturer and the old classic books, but my mind is a hostage to Jaxson. I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket several times, even if it doesn’t.
During the drive home, I think about what Natasha said about the chance that Mom and Jaxson were never an item, but that could be wishful thinking slapping me across the face. Let’s say Mom and Jaxson weren’t together—and that’s the mother of all ifs—it doesn’t mean he’d want me. He was still Dad’s best friend.