“It’s nothin’, okay? I’m attending detention and grounded. I’m taking the punishment for the trouble I caused. Can we drop it?”
“Don’t start avoiding your problems like your—” Daddy stopped himself, but we heard what he didn’t say.Like Momma. Sometimes, and only sometimes, they managed to stop themselves from bad-mouthing each other. At this point, why bother?
But his words got me thinking.
Was I avoiding shit? Hell, I was for sure avoiding a lot about Sasha, but was this fight between Jack and me some unfinished business that needed hammering out? Or was it all hopeless like the relationship between my parents?
Cara helped with cleaning the table and putting away leftovers while Daddy quietly dismissed himself to his office. Then, with nothing left to do, I sat in the shadowed living room, slumping into the overstuffed sofa, and tried to arrange my thoughts enough to figure them out.
Why couldn’t I end things with Sasha? She deserved someone who wanted to be at her side. Sasha shouldn’t have to put up with my indifference half the time and my distraction the other half. Was I more like Daddy than I wanted to admit? Coasting with my head in the sand until she broke up with me or cheated?
Dreading to face that potential fact, I changed gears.
What exactly did I hate about Jack Rutledge?
Jack wasn’t really a dick to anyone but me. In fact, he hardly talked at all. He sat all broody in class or when I saw him in the hall. Everyone gave him space as if he might bite their headsoff if they didn’t, but I’d never seen him actually snap at our classmates.
The tips of his brown bangs skimmed his lashes while he kept his head lowered, avoiding eye contact with anyone but Ty. So often, I thought about brushing his hair back, just to see his full face. Even with his pale skin, he was dark. An aura I kinda liked. Sort of mysterious, I supposed.
And why the fuck was I thinking all this shit when I was supposed to figure out my hate? The fact remained, when Jack opened his mouth, guaranteed, I wouldn’t like what came out of it.
Thursday’sdetentionwaswithour chemistry teacher, not Mr. Hitchcock, thankfully. However, he had the same idea as Ms. Haney. Not only were we side by side, but we were also at the same lab table. No brace of metal to keep me from stretching my leg toward him or Jack sliding his fingers across the cold, smooth surface toward me.
On the bright side—and hell yeah, I was a fucking bright-side kinda person—it made it very easy to mess with each other, which seemed to be the only way we could communicate.
“Rumor says the football team is planning something,” Jack whispered. The raspy sound barely reached me, even as close as we were. Mr. Matthews was a younger guy and had his earbuds in. Whether he listened to anything, who knew, but he didn’t glance at either of us when Jack spoke.
Eyes on the seemingly unconcerned detention monitor, I whispered, “Yeah, to win the game tomorrow.”
“A prank, dumbshit. They’re planning another prank.”
Nick promised he’d have a sit-down with the players during practice this week and get them to stop this nonsense betweenour two teams. There were no guarantees on that front since this had evolved into a bunch of squabbles between students that would need to be settled, but I hoped he could guilt them into it by using me as the martyr. I took on the punishment for the team this time so everyone had this chance to get their acts together.
Something like that anyway.
If this shit went on when football season ended, I wondered if the school would care to go light on the retribution. Detention might not hurt my chances at MIT, but suspension probably would.
“We’re tryin’, okay? I can’t force people to stop, but most of us don’t want to get in trouble.”
When he didn’t immediately reply, even with a doubt-filled huff, I glanced his way. Jack sat frozen, expression blank. He had blue eyes too, but his were so different. Fringed in black lashes, they had a golden-brown center near the pupil.
“There a problem?” Mr. Matthews asked.
We startled and dropped our gazes, mumbling, “No, sir,” as we did.
How long had we stared at each other?Whyhad we stared at each other?
Just when I figured he wouldn’t respond after getting caught, Jack whispered, “Doesn’t seem so. Maybe you don’t have plans after high school besides getting some girl pregnant and working on a farm, but I do. So stop fucking up my future.” He somehow shouted the last part without being any louder at all, but it was what he said before that that tripped me up.
Get some girl pregnant?
I shook my head, not planning on responding more than that, but the jumble of thoughts rolled on.
Sasha.
I’d had a break from her this week, and I kinda liked it. I’d never wanted a girlfriend, but then she was, and I supposed I hadn’t hated it. I hadn’t really liked it either, though. Get her pregnant? Not likely.
Sasha was the sensible choice of a girlfriend. Her friends were dating football players. She was pretty and always around, but was that all there was to choosing a girlfriend? She was around? I snorted and shook my head again. Man, if I told her I liked her becauseshe was around, she’d probably slap the shit out of me, and I might even deserve it, I wasn’t sure.
