God, I hate hearing his name come out of her mouth. I hate that he hurt her. I hate all of it.
“So you wore Baxter’s jersey because you wanted to pick an argument?” I ask, finally acknowledging the elephant in the room, and I turn out of the line, picking a random empty parking spot.
When I turn to look at her, Alondra’s smiling.
“So you do know what I’m wearing,” she says, looking awfully pleased with herself.
If only she knew how aware I am of her all the time.
“Al, I’m not going to treat you differently. Did you look at me differently after I told you about my dad?” I ask, and Alondra shakes her head. “Then why would I treat you differently?”
She relaxes, and I find myself wanting to reach out to take her hand. “Thanks,” Al says, giving me a small smile.
Don’t make it weird, Jack.
“Would it make you feel better if I offered to kiss you?” I tease, trying to lighten the mood.
“Can you make it better than a two?” she asks, tilting her head up in a challenge, and if I weren’t so damn grateful to see her attitude, I’d be offended. Our kiss was a fucking ten out of ten, and saying it’s anything less is a lie. If it makes her feel better, though, she can lie to me because I know the truth.
“Whoa, what happened to the three you gave me?”
Alondra grins and laughs, twisting a long, dark curl around her finger, and I’m utterly entranced. “I guess kissing you really wasn’t very memorable. Threes are for winners.”
“Oh, shut up. Three out of ten is still for losers, and I promise, I’m not a loser,” I say, unbuckling my seatbelt and to face her entirely, despite the small space.
“Prove it,” she dares, and I raise an eyebrow, trying to figure out if I heard her right.
It’s so tempting to tangle my fingers in Alondra’s dark curls and lean in while I decide how I want to kiss her.
All I know is I don’t think one kiss would be enough, and it’s not fair for me to want that when I can’t offer her everything she deserves. Al said herself she believes there’s a right person for everyone, and I’m not anyone’s right person. I don’t know how to be.
The next person she picks should be someone who can make her happy.
Alondra leans closer to me, her glimmering eyes dropping to land on my mouth, but I don’t want her to dare me to kiss her because I helped her feel safe earlier.
I didn’t want to be right.
I clear my throat, drawing her attention back up. “If I kissed you right now like I think you’re asking me to, you’d freak out about us going back to normal even more than you already are,” I say, wishing for a moment we were different people so everything weren’t so complicated.
“Yeah, probably,” Al says, angling herself away from me, and I think I’ve fucked up more than I would have if I had kissed her just now. “Looks like the traffic has slowed down a bit. We should go back to the house.”
“Can I say something first without you hating me for suggesting it?” I blurt out, and Alondra looks down at her lap, avoiding my gaze. Fuck, maybe I shouldn’t say anything.
“I guess.”
“I know I’m probably overstepping, but I think you should consider telling your dad about Bradley.”
I know it’s a lot to ask of Alondra, but I want to believe if he knew, he wouldn’t let her think she has to earn his love.
“Why? It’s over,” she says, turning to look out the window. This was a bad idea. I shouldn’t have said anything.
“Because I think he might be able to help, but it’s just a thought. You don’t have to say anything to anyone if you don’t want to,” I say, trying to salvage the conversation.
She’s not alone. I know we haven’t been friends for long, but I’m in her corner.
“Please don’t tell him,” she whispers.
“Al, I wouldn’t do that. Trust me, I’m very careful to keep my friendship with you and your dad as my coach separate. It’s likechurch and state—you don’t mix them together,” I say, and she shifts again in her seat, glancing in my direction.
