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Jase: Howd the presentation go?
“Guitar boy?” Nora squeals, her mouth dropping as her eyes pop open seeing my screen.
A blush heats my face. “He’s helping me out.”
“Helping you out?” Nora echoes like it’s synonymous to sharing spaghetti like Lady and the Tramp. “Girl, you better spill!”
“Shouldn’t you go back to work?”
“I can be late.”
I groan, then tell her everything from my and Jase’s deal to us exchanging Instagrams. I’m blushing too hard. Since I’ve been preoccupied with the competition, and I don’t think anything exciting will happen with Jase, I haven’t told Nora about me and him. There’s nothing romantic about tutoring or practicing presentations, right?
“Oh!” Nora sings loud enough for a few people to glance our way. “Study buddies!”
“In the cleanest sense, yes.”
“He’s messaging you.”
“He just wants to know.”
“Because he cares!”
“Nora!” Marcos peeps his head from the kitchen, giving her a you-should-be-working look.
“Okay, okay, I’m on it.” Nora makes her way back to the kitchen, not without swiveling back to me and raising her eyebrows in that hubba hubba way again. I shoot her a glare, then reply to Jase.
Me: Could’ve been better
It barely takes him a second to reply.
Jase: Better how?
The strange part is that I tell him all the details, cringing when I explain how I bumped into the projector. Why I share a play-by-play of all my humiliating moments to a cute and cool guy, I’m not sure. It just spills out, and I can’t stop myself from typing. Again, he responds in a second.
Jase: Yikes sounds scary
Me: It was
I reread his message, just three words, yet they encapsulate everything I feel about my disaster of a presentation. Right when I think our conversation ends at my text, Jase replies again.
Jase: Its done now. You can leave it behind and try again next week
It sounds easy coming from him. Move on and look forward to the future. If only I could actually do that myself.
Me: And do better too
Chapter Fifteen
Dirt clouds around my ankles, the grass blades rustling beneath my feet, as I cross through Serenity Park. I grip my camera bag’s handle, which burns my palm and fingers with heat degreed over one hundred. Every step I’m encompassed by trees, their branches quilled with leaves, the sun highlighting their green hues. I cross through the jungled maze, earthy tones filling my peripherals, and when the briny smell of lake wafts into my nose, I know I’m near the designated location. Marcos and Gavin shared their first kiss at this lake, so Marcos suggested I meet them here.
Upon making my way out, I see Gavin pacing back and forth in front of the lake. On the opposite side, a few families play around, their children running and laughing together. But Gavin’s eyes are glued to the ground, frowning at the grass like it’s scolding him.
“Hey, Gavin,” I say when I reach him. “What’s up?”
“Hey, Emilyn,” he replies, pasting a wavy smile on his face. “I’m good, how about you?”
“Is everything okay?” I have a flash of his face, fear flitting across it, when Marcos joked about being part-time models in NorCal yesterday at Jimenez’s.
